Start Me Up

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Start Me Up Page 8

by Nicole Michaels


  “You better.” Callie smiled and said good-bye to Mike, who had waited patiently behind Anne, his fingers running lightly across her back and neck.

  Anne gave a small wave to Eric, who winked at her as he danced in the booth. She turned back to Mike, and he held his hand out to her once again. She grabbed it, pushing down the unsure thoughts that were bubbling to the surface of her mind.

  There was no mistaking that he wanted this—right? He’d come to her on the dance floor, and accused her of punishing him. Had she been punishing him? That hadn’t been her initial intent, but it had felt amazing to see the irritated look on his face. To know that seeing her with another man had made him feel a hint of jealousy. She wasn’t used to anyone showing possession of any sort, but it was arousing.

  Now here she was, following Mike as he waved to the burly bartender as they headed for the exit. Random thoughts pinged through her foggy brain, trying to make sense of the incredibly hot man leading her out the door. Did he come here often? What did he expect from her? Were they going to go all the way? Had she worn sexy underwear? Had he ever had sex with someone over thirty? The last one was doubtful.

  The main parking lot was behind Smokey’s, accessible by stairs. Anne breathed in the balmy night and without thinking gripped Mike’s hand as she considered how many drunk idiots had fallen down the wooden steps that led to the back lot. She was grateful that she’d chosen boots over heels.

  “I got ya,” he said, as they walked slowly and silently down the two flights.

  Once they hit gravel she attempted to loosen their connection but Mike wasn’t having it. He gave her hand a squeeze, keeping them close as they weaved through the cars toward the rear of the lot. His new-looking black Camaro was backed into its spot and slightly angled. It chirped as the alarm disarmed, the doors unlocked, and the engine simultaneously turned. Of course he would have a remote start.

  “So you’re one of those guys, huh? I hate crooked parkers,” she said with a hand on her hip.

  He dropped her fingers and grabbed her waist, pulling her firmly against his body. “Hate is a strong word, Perfect.”

  “Maybe,” she said, embarrassed at how breathless she was. Every time he called her that name it gave her a little thrill, and also made her wonder why. She was nowhere near perfect, but hearing him say it made her want him to say it again and again. She melted into his arms and angled her head back as he nuzzled into her neck. The heat of his mouth blew against her skin and she gasped quietly as his tongue ran across her collarbone.

  “I don’t think you really hate me right now, do you?” His fingers skimmed down her side and cupped her ass through her dress. She shook her head, looking into his eyes before he leaned in again to press his lips just below her ear. Just when she thought she might die from the sensation of his tongue lightly touching her, he pulled away and patted his palm against her backside. “Let’s go.”

  Well. She could hardly voice offense at his treatment when the act had every nerve in her body humming.

  He pulled open the passenger door and she sat down, the taut leather seat gripping her hips on both sides and leaning her back as if she were in a race car. He shut the door and she took a deep breath. The cool air was already lowering the temperature. She watched as Mike entered the other side and settled in, messing with an illuminated screen on the dash and then finally grasping the stick shift between them. It was totally hot seeing him behind the wheel of such a sexy car.

  His eyes met hers and the corner of his mouth lifted in a naughty smirk as he put the gear shift into reverse and then pulled into the night. Even from the passenger seat Anne could feel the power of the car, engine low and rumbling as it vibrated through her body. She could have watched him driving all night, his long masculine fingers gripping the stick, his solid arms stretched out to palm the steering wheel. There wasn’t anything about his physique that didn’t melt her from the inside out.

  They approached the longest straightaway on the route to her house and he dropped into second gear, showing off and taking it faster than was legal in a residential area. When he swung into Anne’s driveway she giggled, the last shot of alcohol settling into her bloodstream.

  “Were you trying to share with me the thrill of the ride?” she said with a grin.

  He opened his door and put one foot onto the concrete before looking at her. “I’m about to share something with you … but that wasn’t even close to the thrill of this ride.” He shifted in the seat and leaned toward her. Apparently her body was now trained to respond because she instinctively met him halfway. His lips swiped at hers once, twice, and then he pulled back a little. They were still close as he whispered, “Get out of the car, Anne.”

  She slammed her lips shut and exited the vehicle. Stepping up to the garage door keypad, she spoke over her shoulder. “You’re kind of bossy tonight.”

  Anne began to type in her code—Claire’s birthday—when Mike’s body molded against the back of hers. Both of his hands settled on her hips as the door rumbled to life beside them.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve been thinking about you all week, and I don’t want to wait any longer to get my hands on you.” He swept her tousled hair to the side and placed his lips on her nape. The sensation was maddening, and her fingers latched onto the wood frame of the garage door. This man and his roaming mouth were dangerous.

  “Do you have a thing for my neck?” Anne asked as her body instinctively pushed back into his. He placed another wet openmouthed kiss on her ear, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through her torso and settling heavily between her thighs.

  He pushed his erection against her backside once more as he spoke. “I have a thing for all of you.”

  A chill ran through her and she moved aside, making him follow her into the house. The garage entrance was off the kitchen and she flipped on a light switch, filling the room with warmth and brightness. It was the best lighting they’d seen each other in all night.

  The harsh change of scenery brought her back to reality and with it the realization that it had taken less than a hot second for her to bring Mike back to her house to have sex. Because that was what this was about, right? All of their conversation had been about bodies and touching and rides. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she could look him in the eye.

  Club-Going-One-Night-Stander wasn’t the role Anne was accustomed to playing. She rarely allowed herself to become intoxicated, and she hadn’t had sex since her divorce. Now in her own home, surrounded by her real life, she was beginning to digest what was really happening and it was a little overwhelming. Maybe seeing her at Smokey’s made him think she was a different kind of girl. She’d sort of felt like a different girl, that was for sure. There was no way he would be calling her perfect after this.

  Unable to control her conflicting thoughts or her fidgeting, she grabbed the bag of coffee out of the cabinet and headed for the coffeemaker. Her feel-good drunkenness was waning in the bright light of her kitchen and forcing her to view this situation for what it was. A huge mistake.

  “Anne,” a warm, low voice said behind her. She stopped leveling a scoop of beans and straightened her back, but she didn’t turn and face him. He spoke again in a slightly amused yet soothing deep tone. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making coffee, sound good? I think I drank a little too much and this should probably help—” She was cut off when an arm reached around her and took the tablespoon from her fingers, dropping it in the sink and sending beans clinking against the porcelain.

  “I love coffee in the morning, but at night I like other things. And this night those things include you naked.” His sexy words and the way he brushed his fingertips along her shoulder sent bumps racing down her arm.

  She turned slowly, taking in the full effect of a well-lit Mike Everett. He was a beautiful sight with his square jaw and rugged features. His hair was a little too long on top and styled by running his fingers through it, and his deep-set blue eyes made her weak in the knees. It
was shocking to know that this handsome man was standing here, in her kitchen, wanting to touch her. She gave him an awkward half smile. All of this was just too good to possibly be true.

  “I feel like I’m losing you here, Anne,” he whispered as he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. It was so gentle and yet incredibly intimate.

  She relaxed a little. “I’m sorry. It’s only now that we’re here I just…” She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to change her mind, especially when her body wanted to attach itself to his and never let go. Seeing Mike naked would be the best thing in the whole world, but him seeing her naked sounded like the absolute worst form of torture. Why did her brain have to become active in moments like this? He didn’t wait for her to finish her thoughts. He stepped closer, his thighs pressing against her skirt.

  “I think you should stop thinking so hard, unless you don’t want me to touch you, right here.” His hand lifted to her jaw and cupped lightly. His fingers fanned out against her face, rough and callused. Good Lord, she loved the feel of them. “And here.”

  His opposite hand delved under her hair and behind her head, tipping her face up to him slowly. Her lips parted and she heard her own breath coming out in tiny puffs from deep in her chest. He was so close, in fact, that with every exhale she felt her breasts move against his chest.

  “Now I’m gonna kiss you. And then … I’m going to touch you everywhere.”

  She was definitely in trouble, because all of her internal battles over this situation instantly gave up the fight with those words from his soft lips. His eyes hadn’t left hers.

  “Tell me it’s okay, Anne.” His breath smelled faintly of beer, and it mixed with his cologne to create the most perfect man scent that had ever graced Anne’s kitchen. She nodded in surrender because she was a total goner. She needed to shut down those negative thoughts in her head because she wanted this more than anything.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  His lips closed over hers and took her mouth in a hot kiss. There was no testing and no gentleness; this was raw and unleashed passion. She gave it back, licking at him, nipping and biting just as he did to her. His hands roamed over her entire body, sending her nerves into a frenzy. When his tongue passed her lips, tangling with hers, all thoughts of stopping fled. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, until she felt like any second she’d internally combust. Her eyes fluttered and she ran her hands over his neck, his back; then finally she returned the gesture he was so fond of and grabbed his butt as she licked into his mouth. A low growl rose from his throat. She smiled against his lips.

  She could feel the return of his smile against her, their lips still touching, until he spoke. “You have a wicked mouth, Anne. Makes me wonder what else it can do.”

  Oh shit. The way he talked to her made her feel a little loopy; thank goodness she was resting against the cabinet. She pulled back to look into his eyes, their noses still brushing. She’d never been a dirty talker, never really been with one, either, but she wanted to try. “Maybe I’ll show you what my mouth can do … if you’re lucky.” Okay, that was lame.

  His eyes crinkled and his mouth went into a roguish lopsided grin. “That sounds promising, but you should know I’d never expect something I’m not willing to give.”

  With that he turned, led her around the island and pulled a chair out from the kitchen table before he spun them so that he was backing her up to the wooden surface. He pressed his face into her neck, placing small kisses on her skin, teasing her with his lips and his tongue. She let her head fall back as her fingers laced through his hair. Everything he did made her crazy with desire, more so than she’d ever been in her entire life. The way he spoke, kissed, touched.

  “Lie down,” he whispered against her neck.

  Anne’s eyes opened and she yanked her head up to stare into his face when she realized what he wanted. “What? On the table?”

  He patted the wooden surface behind her. “Lie down and rest your sexy cowgirl boots right here.” He patted a hand on his thigh.

  Anne was frozen. There was no way she could lie down and display herself like a buffet—not that the idea didn’t have her insides turning to hot liquid. “People eat there.”

  He chuckled and grabbed her around the waist. “You’re catching on.”

  She gasped, and her heart pounded at the vision in her mind. She wanted to do it—she wanted to feel his mouth on her—but paranoia and her extreme self-conscious nature were sabotaging her. Shit, she wished she had a bottle of wine to chug real quick.

  He leaned into her, forcing her legs to part so he could stand between them. A quick kiss landed on her lips as one hand found its way under her skirt. His warm fingers skimmed her upper thigh, across the front, and finally found their way to her center as he cupped her with his large hand. He really knew how to get his way. Every sensation was driving her mad.

  He kissed her again, their tongues fondling each other, and she felt her body being angled down until finally her shoulders hit cool wood. As soon as she was flat on the table Mike’s mouth began to work down her front while his free hand teased her nipple through the tight dress.

  Anne arched her back, pushing against his palms, and he rewarded her eagerness by drawing the bodice of her dress down until one breast came free. She had never, ever experienced anything like this.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Anne.” His mouth closed over a nipple, warm and wet, and he drew it slowly into his mouth, the suction matching the throbbing of her core, which she desperately wanted him to touch skin-to-skin and not just through the cotton of her underwear.

  As if she’d spoken the thought out loud, one finger angled perfectly above the right spot and applied a light pressure, making her moan. Mike lifted his body from hers, leaving her aching. She raised her head off the table and glanced toward her knees to see him sit down in the chair, his eyes half lidded meeting hers. His expression was predatory as he pushed her skirt up her thighs. Anne let her head fall back and clamped her eyes shut so as not to be blinded by the bright light over the table.

  Logic and that insecure side of herself still reeling from a broken marriage were telling her to stop him, cover herself, close her legs. In fact she must have been trying to do just that, because both of his hands grasped her inner thighs and held them firm as he spoke. “Let me see you, Anne.”

  * * *

  Mike applied a little more pressure and thankfully Anne let her legs fall open, revealing her black panties and pale inner thighs. The sight of which nearly undid him. He could tell this hadn’t been easy for her, offering herself up this intimately, and the fact that she’d done it for him was incredibly gratifying.

  His hands rested on her inner knees and he traced a finger up her smooth skin, along the cleft of her thigh, and enjoyed the tremor that radiated through her body. One fingertip teased her panty line up and down, and he felt her tense.

  “Oh God, Mike.” Her words came between short breaths.

  “You don’t need to be shy with me, Anne.” He stood up again and leaned over her, taking in her flushed cheeks and shut eyes. Her lips parted on a soft whimper as he ran his finger one more time up and down her damp panties. “Your body is telling me how much you like this.”

  “I do like it … I just…” she said in a small voice.

  Mike stopped instantly and jerked his hand away to settle on her thigh. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He wasn’t used to getting turned down at this point in the game, but despite what Katie said earlier in the week, he wasn’t an asshole. If Anne wasn’t into this, he’d stop.

  He hovered above her warm body, one arm propped on the table next to her waist. “Too far?”

  When she didn’t respond immediately, he began to ease off her, but she grabbed his arm. “No, I lied. I mean … I didn’t lie, but I do want this. Really bad, it’s just…”

  “Just what?” He gently smoothed her hair away from her face because he couldn’t seem to keep from to
uching her in any way she’d allow him to. Maybe things were happening too fast. Even if it didn’t happen tonight he knew he’d be willing to wait. Maybe he needed to slow down for her sake.

  “Are you sure you want it?” She asked. Her eyes looked wary at the words.

  He jerked his head back; a shocked laugh escaped his mouth. “You can’t be serious.” She raised her eyebrows and scrunched her nose. What the hell? “You are serious.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this. I’m a mom. I’m older than you. I feel a little slutty in this outfit, and you’re so…” A frustrated groan left Anne’s lips and she slapped her hands over her eyes. “Somebody shut me up.”

  “Done.” Mike leaned down and took Anne’s mouth with his, parting her lips with his tongue and fully possessing her. Not a word was leaving these lips. Anne was unsure of herself, but she’d fought that uncertainty with him time and time again now, at her daughter’s party and at his shop, and it was incredibly sexy. How did she not see that? She was gorgeous, and drove him crazy with how incredibly sexy she was. Mike would just have to prove it to her.

  “I’m not sure why you doubt how bad I want you, Anne.” He spoke as his kisses worked their way over her chest, pulling one nipple into his mouth while he freed the other breast with his fingers. Every inch of her skin was hot and ready for him to touch if only she would stop worrying. He stood up and tugged lightly on her arm and then situated her hand against his jeans right against his erection. “Do you feel this?”

  She nodded her head, lips parted, and heavy breaths lifting her naked chest up and down. She moved her fingers, grasping at his length as well as she was able to through the thick denim. The feel of her hands on him had him surging his hips forward, pushing against her palm. Lord, she had no idea what she was doing to him.

  He laid his hand over hers, applying pressure and guiding them together up and down. “This doesn’t see a mom, your age, or the outfit you call slutty and I call hot, and it doesn’t matter because all of those things make you Perfect. You are an incredibly sexy woman, who I know for a fact wants me while sprawled across her kitchen table.”

 

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