“It’s an acquired taste,” Wade said. “It helps to start off slow and easy.”
She harrumphed. “I’ll have to take you at your word.”
The hand running slow circles over her back crawled up to her neck. He twisted his fingers around the hair at her nape, then gently tugged, encouraging her to tip her head back to look at him. Her lingering embarrassment faded as she watched him take a sip from the jar, then slowly lower his mouth to hers.
Without hesitation, she opened to him as his lips pressed against hers. His tongue made a slow, languorous sweep of the inside of her mouth, allowing the liquid to spill into her mouth and seep down her throat. She prepared herself for the hellfire and damnation, but the small amount didn’t burn at all. This time, she actually tasted sweet apples rather than gasoline—or what she suspected gasoline would taste like—and she could understand a little better why they drank the stuff.
Wade, however, was far more potent and overwhelming than the moonshine, and as he continued to deepen the kiss and sweep his tongue across hers in a slow, leisurely fashion, she melted from the inside out. The moonshine created a flash fire, capable of destroying her. This was a slow, simmering heat that drew her in and left her desperate for more. She sighed and relaxed so deeply she would’ve slipped off his lap if he hadn’t been holding on to her.
His kiss had been filled with more passion and care than any of her previous lovers had shown during the pinnacle of sex, and she was hooked.
“Better?” he asked, his voice deeper and huskier than normal.
“Infinitely.” She imagined her eyes were glassy orbs as she tried to open her weighted lids to focus on him. She rolled her head to the side, wondering if his friends were staring at the show she and Wade were putting on, but all she found was the roaring fire. “Where’d everyone go?”
“They left a few minutes ago. I think they were afraid you’d throw up, and they wanted to give you privacy. If it’d been me, they’d have had their phones out, taking video for YouTube. They must really like you.”
Warmth and pleasure at having been so easily accepted by his friends filled her, but she’d had enough of them for one night. She wanted to be alone with Wade for a while, and she prayed this relaxed feeling stuck with her long enough to get home so she could make her move. She pressed her hand to the side of his face, holding his gaze steady, and asked, “Will you take me home now?”
Chapter Nine
On the ride home, Callie grew more and more lethargic as the moonshine’s dizzying buzz dissolved into a warm hum in her chest and belly, and her arms and legs turned into lead weights. Jen’s car was still in the parking lot, and Callie was sure the throaty rumble of Wade’s truck sounded like an alarm in Tiffany’s condo, but she didn’t care if they watched or not. It would require more energy than she could produce to climb down from the seat, and she didn’t even pretend to want to get down by herself as Wade opened the door. She twisted in her seat, rested her hands his shoulders, and enjoyed being in his arms for the second it took her feet to hit the ground.
As they crossed the parking lot and began climbing the steps, her fatigue was crushed by a wave of sexual desire and nervous anticipation. By the time she reached the door, she was dizzy with excitement and her hand trembled so badly she couldn’t get her key into the lock.
After several failed attempts, Wade took matters into his own hands. Literally. He stepped up behind her, pressed his front to her back, and wrapped his fingers over hers. The contact was so delicious she forgot all about the lock. Nothing mattered except leaning back against him to gain more contact, and a deep moan escaped her throat as Wade’s heat and essence wrapped around her like a set of strong, steady arms. She still felt some lingering effects of the moonshine, but the alcohol was nothing compared to the intoxicating effects of Wade’s body pressed against hers.
She must’ve swayed in place—hallelujah—because he wrapped his free arm around her waist and drew her solidly against him while twisting their wrists to victoriously open the door. She didn’t want to break contact, but there was only so much they could do standing on the stoop—especially with nosey neighbors—and oh-so-many more possibilities awaiting them on the other side of the soon-to-be-closed-again door. She whimpered with regret as she took the necessary step forward into her condo, and he followed her lead and released her.
After dropping her purse and keys onto the coffee table, she was surprised to turn and find him still standing in the doorway, forearm braced on the casing above his head, forehead resting on his arm.
“Why are you standing there? Come in.”
His breath was slow and deliberate, his smile sad. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? Why?” She had zero practice seducing men, but she’d watched Jen approximately two million times over the years. Hopefully, she’d picked up a little something along the way. Putting an extra swing in her step, she worked to infuse a sexy vibe to her walk and crossed the foyer to stop in front of him. “It’s an excellent idea.”
“You’re awfully cute when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m happy.”
When his grin widened, she dropped back, thought over her options, then tried a more direct approach. Stepping close enough to run her hands down the middle of his chest, she said, “Seriously, I’m not drunk. The buzz faded on the way home and now I’m just relaxed. At least, I was.”
Her gaze settled on the erratic pulse pounding in his neck, then slid down the center of his chest, over his stomach, to his belt. “Now that we’re alone, I’m not quite as relaxed as I am nervous and excited.” She tried to make eye contact but chickened out and ended up staring at his full and tempting lips. “Very excited.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, then muttered something about being hot-blooded and coldhearted, but definitely not Superman, along with a few other garbled expletives. After a moment, he pressed his lips together, opened his eyes, and stepped into the foyer.
Her heart jumped and the nervous jitters spiked as the door shut behind him with a solid clunk. She wasn’t sure what to do with him now that she had him inside, but before he changed his mind and reversed course, she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the living room.
It had been a long time since she’d been to the bathroom, and while she feared him running away while she took care of business, nature was screaming too loudly to ignore. “I have to run to the bathroom.” She stepped in front of him and studied his face, trying to get a clear read on his thoughts. “You won’t escape while I’m gone, will you?”
His eyebrow rose. “Escape?”
She nodded and gripped the front panels of his flannel shirt. “You don’t seem entirely convinced this is where you want to be, so I’m afraid I’ll come out and find you gone.”
His expression softened and he worked his head around in a circle. “I don’t think being here is a good idea, but there’s nowhere else I want to be.”
Gee, talk about a pile of mixed signals. It was like a back-handed compliment one was never sure how to take. They were both consenting adults, and even a novice like her detected the four-alarm fire raging between them. So why the reservations?
Rather than spend more time trying to figure out the problem, she was going to focus on the solution. He’d at least agreed to stick around, so she’d just have to convince him he was in the right place… as soon as she finished in the restroom.
“I have an assortment of drinks in the fridge. Help yourself to anything that looks good, and I’ll be right back.”
She hadn’t been to church since she was a little girl, but she found herself saying a prayer of thanks when she returned to find him seated on the couch, arms stretched out along the back, legs kicked out in front and crossed at the ankles.
He was the sexiest man she’d ever encountered, the potency made even stronger and more dangerous by his easy confidence. He was totally at ease, while she felt like a cat that h
ad been rolling around in a field of catnip all day. Her eyes and thoughts bounced here, there, and everywhere, trying to figure out the best place to sit.
The chairs across from the sofa were too far away and would knock out any chance for more of those spontaneous kisses or snuggling and cuddling. If she sat next to him, he’d have to turn sideways to look at her and that would quickly get awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. She bit down on the inside of her lip as her gaze settled on his lap. She’d grown comfortable sitting on him at the campground, so why not go with what worked?
She planted a knee on one side of him, straddled his legs, then settled onto his thighs.
His eyes danced with humor as he tilted his head to the side and grinned at her. “Comfy?”
“No. Not yet.” She scooted around, trying to find a soft spot on a man who was all hard muscle. “I’m trying to find a soft spot.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth and gripped her waist, stilling her. “Sweetheart, there isn’t going to be a soft spot if you keep wiggling your ass around like that.”
She froze and a gust of heat swept through her. Without conscious thought, her gaze dropped to his lap, and she sucked in a breath as the proof of his words appeared beneath the thick denim fly of his jeans.
His raw masculinity and deeply primal nature melted her ultra-conservative shell, allowing her to be more aggressive than ever before. Her hands burned with the need to touch him, so she started with something relatively safe and familiar—his chest. As she made broad sweeping strokes across the soft cotton fabric of his T-shirt, the heat radiating from him seeped into her palms and turned to lava in her veins.
Even though he wasn’t making any moves of his own, she quickly realized that didn’t mean he was less involved. The rapid rise and fall of his chest and the way his nostrils occasionally flared showed his struggle to control his breathing and possibly even himself.
His reaction bolstered her confidence, so she continued her exploration, going up to his collarbone, then down to his pecs. When her fingers swept across the rigid peak of his nipple, he sucked in a sharp breath and stilled completely.
Unsure if the reaction was positive or negative, she ran a quick body scan, searching for clues. The fluttering heartbeat in his neck along with the rapid-fire rise and fall of his chest seemed encouraging, so she lifted her gaze to his face. The hot, searing hunger flowing from his eyes scorched her and stole her breath.
That look, right there, filled with blazing intensity and desire for her, was something she’d longed to see all of her adult life but had begun to fear she’d never experience.
The carnal longing pouring from him fed her hunger and drove her to continue her exploration. She’d never taken the time—or been given the opportunity—to study a man like this before, and she was fascinated by the breadth of his chest and the sharp ridges and hard lines of his shoulders. There wasn’t enough space between them to allow her to move lower, so she braced a hand against him and slid back to the edge of his knees.
Her fingers bumped across the ridges of his ribs and abs until she ran into the cool edge of his belt buckle. His relaxed-fit jeans were no longer relaxed, and adrenaline zinged through her at seeing how strongly she affected him.
She wanted to continue, but this was well beyond her comfort zone, and fear and insecurity crept in, stealing her confidence and slowing her progress. She paused with her hand on his belt buckle and flipped her gaze to his, silently seeking permission to continue.
Her stomach lurched and nausea rose to her throat as she studied his expression. He had his head cocked to the side, looking at her through hooded lashes, but something in his expression told her to be prepared.
Rejection loomed on the horizon.
*
As Callie rested her hand on his belt and flipped her doe eyes up to meet his, Wade thought his head would split in half from the tug-of-war going on in his mind. He was so turned on the slightest touch would set him off. Which, of course, meant his body was eager to proceed and urged him to undo the buckle himself to save time.
But the tiny part of his mind that remained in control was screaming to stop the insanity. He’d been over this a hundred times. He knew all the reasons this was a bad idea, and none of them had changed since he walked through her door.
Yet as Callie ran her hands over him in careful, measured strokes, one by one, the reasons wilted and died a slow, meaningless death.
While yellow caution lights flashed in his head and he tried to decide if he should hit the brakes and come to a screeching halt or stomp on the gas and go, she apparently decided it was better to ask forgiveness than permission. She suddenly gave a swift tug on the end of his leather belt and the clasp popped free of the latch.
“Be careful, baby.” He sounded like he’d gargled with nails, further proof of how juiced he was. After several unsuccessful attempts at clearing it, he started again. “Things are going to get messy, and soon, if you keep going.”
Rather than discouraging her, the warning fueled her determination. “I want to watch you…” She licked her lips and swallowed, then dipped her head and tried again. “I’ve imagined how you would look… I want to get messy.”
Her innocence, while a little disconcerting for someone who was used to women as free and easy about sex as him, was also one hell of a turn-on. The combination of holy-shit-she’s-too-good-for-me and I’ve-gotta-have-her-now thrashed around in his head like an out-of-control blender and left him confused and angry and sweating profusely.
He wanted her so badly he couldn’t see straight, but his conscience forced him to make sure she wasn’t wasted and acting under the influence. “Callie, are you sure about this? You’re not still drunk, are you?”
She locked gazes with him, and the staggering desire mixed with something deeper and more emotional than pure lust should’ve cooled him off like a blast of cold water. But rather than pull away, he allowed himself to be drawn into the warm depths of her soul. For the first time in over a year, the warmth of a strong, personal connection seeped into his bones and chest and the edges of his ice-cold heart began to melt.
“I’m not drunk. I’m lucid and know exactly what I’m doing.” She cut off the words and twisted her mouth to the side. “Okay, that’s an exaggeration. I’m way out of my league with you and know very little about”—she hesitated and her eyes bounced around—“this stuff. But I’m fully cognizant of my actions.” She dipped her gaze and quietly added, “Please don’t stop me.”
Boom. Battle over; war lost. He would probably chew himself a new asshole in the morning for having been so weak, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how far she intended to take things tonight, but it didn’t matter to him. His throttle was stuck wide open and he was along for the ride with no safety measures in place—except for the condoms he always carried in his wallet.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply as she took his non-answer as a yes, finished unhooking his belt, and went to work on the button of his jeans. He was too far gone to stop, but with his hand over hers, he gave her a final warning. “Be absolutely certain, because when you undo that button and zipper, you’re going to get more than you bargained for.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “My, aren’t you humble?”
He choked on a laugh and shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I go commando, so once you undo that button and zipper… it’s all yours.”
She looked up and blinked. “Commando?”
Again, her innocence should’ve doused the flames, but knowing very few men had been privileged enough to be with Callie had him ready to melt the fuck down. Heaven help him, he loved being one of the honored few and would do everything in his power to make sure she didn’t regret her decision to allow him in. “I don’t wear underwear.”
Her mouth slipped open and her head fell forward as she snapped her gaze to his lap. She drew in a ragged breath and whispered, “Ever?”
His lip
s twitched with amusement as he shook his head, something she failed to see since her eyes weren’t looking anywhere near his face. “Nope. Never.”
She gulped and slowly lifted her gaze to his. “So… all those times I’ve watched you walk around a job site, or seen you in the office… or when you helped me move furniture on Monday… you’ve been…” She swallowed again. “Nothing under your jeans?”
Well, well, well. That little reveal had his chest swelling with all kinds of happy. “You watch me walk around jobs?”
“Uh…” Pink tinged her neck and crawled up to her cheeks as she shifted her gaze to the cushion next to him. After a moment, her embarrassment faded and resolution took over. Recapturing his gaze, she kicked her chin up a notch and said, “Yeah, actually, I have.”
She might be sheltered and innocent, but she was also brave and determined. He loved how once she made her mind up about something, she went for it, whether it was stealing his moonshine or seducing him.
Her sweet honesty was perfect.
Slowly, feeling every bump and dip of her rib cage, he slid his palms up her sides, over her shoulders, and around to the back of her neck. Drawing her to him, he leaned forward to meet her halfway and nipped at her lip. “Yes, when you watch me walk around at work, I’m naked under my jeans.” He captured her lip again with his teeth, then soothed the sting with a slow slide of his tongue before angling his head to take her mouth in a deep, deep kiss. Pulling back for a breath, he added, “And the next time you see me, you won’t have to imagine what’s underneath. You’ll have firsthand knowledge.”
She stared like a deer frozen by headlights, dazed and unblinking. He was a bastard for setting her up like that, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew every time he passed her in the office or saw her working on a job, she’d think about him in a way that was totally inappropriate for co-workers… just as he would her.
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