“Just save me some grief next time by allowing me to pick you up.” He winked, then took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles in an old-fashioned yet endearing gesture. “You look beautiful.”
Next time? Maureen’s heart hiccupped. “Thank you. I didn’t overdress for this business meeting?”
“I have a confession to make.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Tonight, your money is the furthest thing from my mind.”
She dipped her head and smiled shyly as he led her into the lounge. It wasn’t what she imagined. No neon beer signs or dance floor, just a solo pianist playing softly on a grand piano set near the center of the room. The space was broken by huge potted palm trees. There were plenty of tables where couples were sitting close, but groups of people simply stood holding their drinks and talking. She was relieved to find her dark blue jeans and long crocheted sweater fit in well with the other patrons.
He led her to a corner table. He didn’t remove his eyes from her until a waitress came to take their order.
They chatted over their drinks. There were few lulls in the conversation, and Maureen was beginning to feel like she’d known Nick for years. She was pleased to find that their opinions matched on current events and when talk turned to family, she discovered that he too was an only child.
“And how are your parents?” she asked.
“They’re gone, my mother almost ten years ago, and my father died just last summer.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. You’re very young to lose both parents.”
“I was born late in their lives. Sort of a surprise.”
The waitress returned with a new glass of whiskey for Nick, and another red wine for her. Maureen didn’t know when she’d drained her first glass, or when he had signaled for another, but they had been speaking for close to an hour.
“You’re very pretty,” he said in a low voice when they were again alone.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Is that how you sign all of your clients?”
“Only the very pretty ones. Do you really want to talk business?” The gleam in his eye spoke of much more pleasant things on his mind.
She leaned back in her chair, searching for an appropriate response when she caught sight of the man seated alone at the bar over Nick’s shoulder. The man had turned around on his stool and leaned against the decorative brass edge, eyeing her lasciviously. When his eyes moved from her legs, across her breasts and up to her eyes, his mouth tilted in what could only be naked lust. He raised his highball in salute, and winked.
She turned away, pushed her glasses back into place, and picked up her wine glass for a long drink.
Nick, apparently oblivious to the stares she’d encountered, was instead focused on her hands as they clutched the fragile stem of her glass. “Where did you go to college?”
Edging to one side, Maureen was able to block the other man’s view using Nick’s broad shoulders. She licked her lips. “I got my business degree from Washington State, but I took two years in Michigan.”
“Any idea what you’re going to do?”
“I want to—uh…I’m not sure.” She laughed quietly.
“You are sure. You just don’t want to tell me. What is it?” This man didn’t miss a thing.
She swiped at imaginary dust on the table top, and gathered her courage. “I want to open a flower shop. Silly isn’t it?”
“Not at all. As long as the world has men that need to apologize to women, we’ll need flower shops.”
She laughed, setting her drink down beside his. “I never thought about it that way.”
“So when are you going to get started?” He used one long tan finger to trace the tendons along the back of her hand. His touch sent a wave of heat up her arm. She watched that lone finger move along her hand, entranced by the sight of the contrast between his that looked so strong, and hers that looked frail by comparison. She realized then that she was holding her breath. She released it shakily.
“I—there are some things I need to take care of before I can even think about it.”
“What things?”
“Money things, college loans, taxes…” She tried to sound flippant, but she should have known better.
“Don’t tell me the IRS is after you?”
“Oh no. Not yet at least.” She knew her smile was crooked, but when she tried to adjust, it only made it worse. She took another sip of wine to cover.
“I know people, if you need help.” He continued stroking her hand.
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to talk business?”
“We can’t do what I want to do, so we might as well talk business.” He didn’t miss a beat.
All tension gone, she leaned closer to him and smiled. “And what exactly is it you want to do, Mr. Webster?”
“I want to kiss you.” Her smile faded a bit at his bold words, but she didn’t move away. “I want to taste you. I want to know what it’s like deep inside of you. I want to know how sweet you smell after you come undone in my bed.”
Oh my. Those few sentences sent her heart rate off the charts. “But…you don’t even know me.”
“I want to know you. I’d like to learn everything about you. Every secret you keep. You asked what I wanted to do, I was just being honest.” He looked like an honest man. His eyes never left hers.
“That’s very commendable,” she whispered. His words had sent her body into a spin. Her nipples stiffened, her sex moistened, and her vision blurred.
“Hm, yes. Well, now that we’ve covered all that I want to do, it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yes. Tell me what you want to do. Are you the type of woman who insists on three dates before a kiss and a wedding ring before sex, or do you take advice from the women you’ve been living with in your aunt’s home?”
That worked to smother any kindling fires he’d sparked only seconds ago. She pulled her hand away from his, and straightened in her chair. She tried to read the meaning in his eyes. His face was blank, other than the inquiring lift to his right eyebrow.
Surely it was an innocent question. Men here were just a little more forward than those she’d dated in school. He just had more courage.
Rather than meet his gaze, or answer his bold question, she sipped her wine and glanced around the lounge. The man who watched her earlier had been joined by another. They stood elbow to elbow, both their attentions glued to her as they spoke quietly to each other. She looked away, only to find another couple, a man with a woman, watching her just as intently, whispering just as covertly.
A quick check around the room proved her worst fears. Almost every eye in the room was trained on her, and those that weren’t had just been hastily diverted. Someone recognized her, and the news of who she was must have spread like wildfire while she had been concentrating on Nick Webster.
She folded her hands in her lap before looking up again. Nick was watching her, waiting, she supposed, for an answer to his question. The look in his eye wasn’t that different from the others in the room.
She felt sick.
Suddenly, the man who had been watching her from the bar began walking toward her, a predatory look in his eye. His buddy looked on, grinning. Maureen fumbled for her clutch on the chair beside her.
“Thank you for the drink,” she began, standing shakily, “I’ll call you once—”
“Don’t.” He grasped her elbow and stood also, his tall lean body only inches from hers. “Don’t run from me. I’m only being honest with you. I want to have you naked in my bed. Beneath me, screaming my name. It’s the truth, and I’m not going to apologize for that, but—” His thumb caressed her skin through the loosely crocheted sleeve. “I’d never hurt you. Or force you to do something you aren’t ready for.”
Maureen looked away from him only long enough to see that the man had stopped in his tracks. She relaxed only fractionally.
“I appreciate your honesty. I do, and I’m flattered, not offended. But I really
need to go.” She ended in a whisper.
“Why?” He hadn’t released her arm, and he stepped closer to her, close enough for their clothes to brush against each other. Close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body. “If it’s not what I said, why are you running?”
She lowered her gaze in embarrassment. “Everyone is looking at me.”
Nick took a moment to survey the lounge. Maureen curbed the impulse to bury her face in the front of his shirt.
“Can you blame them? You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, or didn’t you notice?”
Two long fingers tilted her chin up until she again met his gaze. Maureen smiled shyly; glad that he couldn’t see anything in their interest other than basic appreciation. “It makes me uncomfortable. I’d just like to leave. Please.”
He gave her a long intense look. Finally, he pulled out his wallet and laid a generous tip on the table. Without another word, he placed his hand proprietarily on the small of her back, and steered her toward the entrance. Maureen concentrated on keeping her head high as she walked through the doors, ignoring the leering and speculative glances.
Once outside, she tried to turn toward him, intending on a handshake and thanks again for the drink.
Nick though, didn’t stop to chat. He continued guiding her with his strong hand pressing against her spine, and his long strides led her around the corner of the establishment, in the same shadows where she’d watched him before. He took her by both arms, and backed her against the cool brick.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
She could smell his breath. Taste the moist puffs of air against her mouth. Her heart pounded in excitement. Such highhanded treatment should have made her livid, but instead it lit a fuse on a powder keg of desire. Looking into his appealing face, she couldn’t even remember the question.
“I thought you wanted to kiss me.”
And then he did. His firm mouth covered hers. She indulged in the scent of his spicy cologne, the feel of his warm lips. She parted hers, and boldly darted her tongue inside his mouth. Whiskey never tasted so damn good.
He pressed his body against the long line of hers, molding her against him. She reached around his back to clutch at the leather jacket. When that wasn’t enough, she slipped her hands beneath it to pull him closer.
His hands were busy, moving from the tangling strands of her hair, down her neck and around her back. The heat of his palms inflamed every inch they touched.
He moved his hips against hers, pressing her against the wall. She felt his cock, straining against his fly. He reached down to adjust, and she gave in to the wild impulse to cover his hand with hers.
He pulled his mouth away from hers to utter a harsh string of curses. “Jesus, Maureen.”
“Nick, touch me. Please…”
He was more than willing. His hand covered her breast without pause. She continued to massage him through the soft fabric of his pants, running her hand along his length.
She’d never touched a man with such intimacy. A niggling in the back of her mind told her that she shouldn’t be touching this man either. She’d only known him for a few hours.
But she was fascinated with him, tantalized by the girth and length of his erection. She slipped her hand lower to feel for his balls. She wanted to learn everything about this man.
He massaged her with supreme patience and skill. Her nipples peaked, begging for his attention. Through her two layers of clothing, he took one between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped at the sheer pleasure that one caress elicited.
Her exploration grew bolder with each quickening beat of her heart. Her pussy had swelled and drenched with anticipation. She ground her cleft against his rigidity, using her own hand to heighten the friction.
“If it weren’t for these damn clothes, I’d be fucking you right here, you know that right?”
“Yes. But—”
“I know.” He sighed heavily. “I know. I don’t want to take you here against a wall.” He pulled away just enough to look down at her hungrily. “Come home with me.”
She wanted to agree. She even opened her mouth to speak the words, when reality hit her.
“I can’t.”
“You can. You want to.”
“I do want to.” She pulled her hand from him. “But I can’t.”
He leaned against her again, breathing into her ear. “I’ve never been turned on this fast. It’s intense.”
“I know. For me too.” She grasped the lapels of his jacket. She knew she should extricate herself. She should be in her car, alone. She should be driving home. Instead she pulled him closer to her.
“I’ve got to touch you. I need to feel.” He deftly released the button on her jeans, then the zipper before his hand slipped beneath her jeans.
“Oh, God.” She shouldn’t allow this. In a public place. Mere weeks before she’d sell her virginity to the highest bidder. “We shouldn’t.”
“I’ve just got to…oh Jesus.” His fingers found her moist center. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, holding him still. He couldn’t. As much as she wanted to grind against his hand, she couldn’t. She had to think.
“Nick—”
“Baby, you’re so wet. You can’t deny you want me when you’re so fucking wet for me right now.” He moved his fingers as much as her grip would allow.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh. She loved the way this put-together conservative-looking man spoke so carnally.
He dipped a long finger a millimeter inside her. His uneven breath was hot in her ear. The muscles in her arms burned with the restraint she put on them. Everything base in her told her to let go, and let him bury his fingers inside her, but she held strong. He rolled her clit against his thumb. She thought her new acrylic nails might snap off with the pressure she used, and he would probably come out of this with ten crescent shaped scars, but she still had no strength of will to seriously tell him to stop. Each swipe of his fingers across her supersensitive folds sent a shiver of pleasure through her loins. Good lord, she touched herself on a regular basis, but it never felt like this. His fingers were so different from hers, and he rubbed her with lazy confidence. He took his time, touching, exploring, and teasing in a slow rhythmic pattern. His exhale came hot against her cheek, and she reveled in the hot whiskey-laced puffs of air, drawing his essence into her lungs with each shaky breath she took. When he changed tempo and swirled his thick finger across her entrance, her knees almost gave out beneath her. She should tell him to stop. She’d rather tell him never to stop, but either way, she didn’t trust her voice; she barely remembered to breathe. When he returned his attention to her erect clit, her body reacted, grasping for him. She succumbed to the overwhelming need to come, and sharply cried out.
He murmured in gratification when he felt her undulating contractions against the tip of his finger. “Christ, you’re so hot. That was so damn sexy.”
“What’s going on?” The shadows of three young men stood beneath the streetlight looking down the dark strip between the buildings where Maureen was flattened against the wall. Their arms were held away from their bodies, ready for a fight.
Maureen straightened, turning away from the voice to refasten her jeans.
“Everything’s fine,” Nick answered calmly.
“You okay lady? We heard a scream.”
“I…uh…saw a mouse.” She straightened her eyeglasses.
The men chuckled, and walked away. When she felt fairly composed, she raised her eyes to his.
“Come with me.”
“I can’t. We just met. I barely know you.” If she’d met him two weeks from now, she’d follow him to the ends of the earth. As it was, she couldn’t sacrifice her future, and that of her mother, on one night of pleasure.
“You just came in my hand, I think you know me.” He grinned, sweet and sexy and too damn enticing.
She needed to get out of here. Now. “I need time. Please.”
He studied her long and hard.
His mouth tightened, as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a warm embrace. With her head tucked beneath his chin, she felt him exhale long and deep.
“I understand. You’re right. I’ve never rushed a woman like this before. I’m sorry.” She allowed the comfort of his arms for only a moment. She pulled away, bending to retrieve her purse lying at their feet.
“I should go.”
“Can I call you?”
Maureen smiled. “I’d like that.”
* * * * *
He watched her walk away from him, enjoying the sauciness in her step. The jeans she wore fit her to perfection, and he realized that this was his first good look at her ass. His cock surged to an even harder state when he pictured that ass naked.
He drove home quickly, and tossed the keys to Carl when he burst through the front door.
“Are you hungry—?”
“No, Carl. Just tired.” And horny. He took the stairs to his room two at a time, stripped out of his clothes, then opened the window wide, hoping for a cool desert breeze to blow across his body. It didn’t, and his body smoldered.
He knew she was beautiful. He’d studied the newspaper picture long enough to memorize her face, but the picture was nothing compared to the real thing. He loved the way she lit up when laughing. He enjoyed watching her as she spoke, with her green eyes dancing in amusement or seriousness. Most of all, he loved the way those eyes grew glassy and dark when her pleasure overcame her. Lord, she was so quick to fire, and he hadn’t even been able to reach up inside her. But he knew why she stopped him.
If she wasn’t a virgin, she would have allowed that small penetration. She had gripped his wrist with more strength than he would have imagined she possessed.
He sat down in the easy chair near the window. He clenched his scalp with his fingers, and braced both elbows on his knees. So it was for real. He’d never been with a virgin. He didn’t know for sure if a man could feel the hymen tearing, or if it could even be torn by penetrating fingers, he’d never given it a thought. He glanced at his hands, looking for a sign of blood.
Olivia Brynn Collection Volume 1 Page 9