His lips on her neck felt amazing. It made her flesh prickle and tingle and cause everything on her body to be on high alert. Every nerve waited for his touch and the feeling was maddening.
She couldn’t wait anymore.
But before she could begin her plan of attack, he moved his hand that had been splayed against the door beside her, and he slid it up so that he palmed her breast in his hand. Yes, it was through the fabric of her blouse, but that just led to the anticipation, the part Heather loved the most. She let out a heavy sigh against his lips that were now touching hers again.
And, as much as she loved the buildup, she didn’t want to wait any longer—couldn’t wait another second. She brought her fingers to the front of his jeans and played with the button until she had the two sides apart, and then she grabbed the tongue of his zipper between her thumb and finger to drag it down.
He was calm, cool, and collected, and she felt like she was going to explode. How was he able to keep his shit together when she felt like she was ready to completely lose hers? Zipper down, she reached her hand inside, because she needed him. She wriggled her hand inside the tight space created by the fit of the denim, relishing the feel of his hardness against her palm. She rubbed against him through his underwear, eliciting a moan from his mouth into hers.
Maybe he wasn’t as together as she’d thought. Perfect. But she wanted to be sure. She sucked on his bottom lip and then breathed, “You got a condom, stud?”
He grinned and that was when she noticed the tiniest of dimples. Oh, weren’t those irresistible? And those tiny gashes in his cheeks gave Heather that feeling of déjà vu once more…like she recognized this guy from somewhere. A past life, maybe. “I do,” he whispered, “but are you ready?”
She gauged her level of readiness by the feeling of wetness between her legs and she was primed and past the point of no return. “Yeah.”
She let go of his cock to begin working on the zipper of her own jeans when he lifted his finger to the small space in between their noses and wiggled his index finger back and forth. He teased, tsking his tongue and grinning. “Let me do the honors.” She smiled and tongued one of her molars. She loved the balls on this guy and couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with someone so confident and sure of himself. That was a bigger turn on than anything else this guy had to offer. So she smiled back, a bit of a defiant feel in the grin, as if to challenge him to dare her to tell him no. But she lifted her hands and held them up, palms out, next to her breasts as if to say hands off. “That’s more like it.” He cocked an eyebrow and she thought her skin was going to catch on fire when she felt his fingers grabbing the waistband of her jeans so that he could undo the button. The grin melted off her face, replaced by the furious desire buried deep inside her, and she swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth in anticipation. He had to see the need in her eyes as he brought his lips to hers and touched them softly as she sucked down another deep breath, but her focus remained locked firmly on his fingers.
There went the zipper…followed by his hands pulling them down and then his fingers hooking her panties and dragging them down her goosepimpled flesh. He kissed her chin again, moving back to her neck, and then she knew she was on the verge of orgasm already. Her heart rate, her breathing, her sensitivity to touch all told her it would happen within minutes.
She could hear loud voices in the hallway behind the closed door that her back was leaning against. If the people had been there earlier, she hadn’t noticed them because a little of the noise from the bar had wafted back to that area, but it was generally quieter, especially tucked away in this little room. Hearing people nearby made her more excited and desperate, because they needed to finish.
She hadn’t realized she’d opened her eyes until she saw him looking at her. Maybe he too was wondering if they should proceed. She wrapped a hand in the back of his hair, gripping it tightly, and said, “Fuck me hard and fuck me fast, and don’t stop till you’re done.” She didn’t mean for it to come out in a growl and certainly not like a demand, but it had nonetheless. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to affect him negatively, because he smirked and then pulled out his wallet. He had a condom on in seconds and she spread as much as she could, still halfway in her jeans, but she wanted him—all of him—and now wasn’t soon enough.
He slid inside her and it felt perfect. At that moment, she imagined in her mind what a junkie must feel like, having gone without her drug for days and then, having it right there in plain sight, going through the motions—prepping the injection, finding the vein, pulling the liquid into the needle—was delicious torment. Finally feeling the rush her body had been building up for, waiting for…that was a feeling that nothing else on the planet could duplicate.
The chemicals that orgasm released—that was what she’d been waiting for. She knew she could experience much the same ones if she were to exercise past a certain point or skydive or anything like that, but right now she was building to that moment the best way she knew how. That there was an element of danger, no matter how mild, only added to it. Knowing that the strangers in the hall could break in at any minute only heightened her anticipation.
Ah, there it was, and she couldn’t help but vocalize her pleasure. He said, “You like that?”
“Yeah.” She dug her nails in his back, but he was still wearing his t-shirt, so she knew anything he felt was muted. She wished now that she had pulled his shirt off, but they seemed to have made the decision to keep as many clothes on as possible—just in case—because they might have to leave in a hurry. Once or twice she’d been interrupted while engaging in an encounter not unlike this one, and few aches felt as painful as the agony of sex interrupted—especially when she’d been that fucking close to letting go.
But there was no way she could be stopped now. She sucked down a deep breath as she teetered on the precipice and could feel that she was right fucking there. One more breath and…
“Oh, God.” Those were the last words she spoke as her vocalizations turned instead to heavy moans and her legs clenched against his hips. He kept driving into her, creating wave upon wave of supreme satisfaction, but—more than that—she reached that high she’d been craving. How long it lasted would be up to him and her body’s cooperation, but he wasn’t stopping and somewhere in the coherent part of her brain, she felt gratitude.
Her groans had dissipated into a series of single-syllabic consonant sounds, mostly mmms. She was winding down naturally when he shouted himself, letting go as well, and his mouth clamped down on the side of her neck as if to quiet himself.
The voices in the hall died down, apparently not needing in the room where Heather and her temporary lover were. Not that it mattered now. She’d accomplished what she needed to. She felt a calmness wash over her and she felt, for the moment, centered and at peace with the universe, just as she always did after climax. Her breathing was beginning to slow and her mind was beginning to focus, but now its attention was on more than just all the stress she felt. What she’d come to the bar for—alcohol to quiet her nerves—she’d instead found in this man and the amazing sex he’d offered.
Wow.
Part of her thought too bad that she’d never see him again, but this was nothing new. The rational part of her was not only glad but relieved that they’d part forever, because the afterwards were always awkward.
Yep. Sure enough. He couldn’t resist. As he withdrew, he said, “Now can I get your phone number, Angelica?”
In spite of her emotions and her overwhelming need to get out of there immediately, she grinned while zipping up her jeans. She touched his chin with her finger. “And risk reducing this beautiful earth-shattering moment into a desperate attempt at a relationship? Not on your life.”
The look in his eyes was beyond priceless. She kissed him on the cheek and picked her purse up off the floor, cracking the door open, surveying the landscape, and then walking out before she actually decided to give him her number.
&nbs
p; Yeah…because that would be a supreme fucking mistake.
Chapter Two
KIEFER STEELE NEEDED a few moments to compose himself, but he’d already been away from his group for too long. He took a deep breath, trying to bring himself back to reality and then shook his head. He might have laughed, but what had just happened was no laughing matter.
He practically stumbled back toward the crowd and spotted his buddies around a pool table. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to tell them about what had just happened, because even though it was unusual for him, it wasn’t anything foreign to them and, well…they really wouldn’t understand. He felt confused and alone now but he also felt incredible. He really didn’t know the last time a woman had made him feel that good.
He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere. He felt like he’d seen her before. There was just something about her…and it was gonna bug him until he figured out why she seemed so familiar. The name Angelica didn’t ring a bell at all, though. Her deep blue eyes felt like a pair he’d gazed into before.
Add to that the fact that he had some serious alcohol in him—it wasn’t helping one bit. He felt a little fuzzy, a little unreal. And, as he got closer to the pool table, the cute cocktail waitress who’d been hitting on him earlier approached him with another shot of tequila. She might have had a chance with him half an hour ago…but not now. He took the shot and fished out his wallet. She grinned at him. “On the house.”
“Thanks, but at least let me give you a tip.”
She winked. “I’d rather have your autograph.”
Ah, so she did know who he was. That other girl…the one who’d called herself Angelica…if she knew who he was, she hadn’t shown it. That was part of what was such a turn on too—she seemed to be into him, but not because he was the frontman for Shock Treatment. He flashed a rock star smile at the cocktail waitress. This could be delicate. He’d signed enough tits in the last year to know signing a body part was always a possibility. It had been pretty cool at first—all manner of hot women flashing him, asking him—fucking begging him—to grab their tits so he could put his John Hancock on them. Nowadays it was almost blasé. A shame, too, because he’d always considered himself a breast man. He was going to play it cool, though. “I can do that.”
“Oh, thank you! Let me go get something to write with.” She turned around and worked her way back through the crowd. She really was cute, but Kiefer’s mind was still wrapped around the last fifteen minutes and the unbelievably hot blonde, the mysterious woman who’d rocked his world. And yeah…the cocktail waitress had said something to write with, which probably meant she already had a surface in mind.
He turned around, ready to head toward the pool table again. Just as he got there, the waitress caught up and touched him on the arm. She handed him a blue ballpoint pen and a piece of paper. “Could you make it out to Cheryl, please?”
He nodded. “C or S?”
Her smile grew. “C.”
He leaned over the empty table beside them and wrote what he usually wrote on most autographs. “Cheryl—Keep Rockin’.” And then the scribble of his name that—if you concentrated hard enough—you could maybe figure out said Kiefer Steele. He handed the paper and pen back to her. “There ya go.”
She blushed. Yeah, he definitely would have gone for her under normal circumstances. “Thank you so much.” He was going to turn around but then he could tell she was working up to something. He was trying to prepare himself to give her a gentle no. She swallowed and said, “Are you planning to be here in Winchester for long?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “No. I’m just here for a few days visiting a friend.”
“It has to be J. C., right?” Yeah…Johnny was a local legend. Kiefer just kept smiling and nodded. “I figured. Well…if you get bored, stop in here again. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thanks…” Oh, shit. He almost called her Crystal but caught himself. “Thanks, Cheryl. I appreciate that. We’re seriously nothing without our fans.” Another line he gave a lot. God, he sounded so lame to himself.
But she seemed to either not notice or not care. “You guys are awesome.” She giggled. “Guess I better get back to work, but…uh…you need anything, please let me know.”
He smiled again and said, “Thanks.” Then he turned around, ready to join his friends and bandmates at the pool table. Holy Christ, how much had he had to drink earlier? That last triple shot of tequila felt like it was gonna do him in. No…it was the tequila mixed with the vigorous sex he’d had with that gorgeous girl who was going to be stuck in his head for weeks. He was spent.
As he turned back to the pool table, he wondered why the cute waitress hadn’t hit on Mickey or Sage. Well, maybe she had. He knew the girls went gaga over them as well. Females still went nuts over Johnny too, even knowing he had a serious squeeze these days. Johnny was about thirty now, but Kiefer knew Sage and Mickey were about his age…twenty-four or twenty-five. Johnny was a legend in the music business, and they were all damned lucky he’d decided to take them under his wing. They were all hungry, but Johnny was like a mentor as well.
Sage was tapping on the edge of the pool table, and Kiefer knew without even asking that his friend was drumming out the beat to a song. Mickey was setting up a shot and, as Kiefer approached, Sage looked up at him. He just nodded his chin at first, but then his eyes lit up. “Shit.” He looked over at Mickey, pounding on the green felt. “Dude…check out this pussy.”
Mickey looked up from the pool cue. “What the fuck, man? You destroyed my shot.”
“So what? Check out our man over here, Mick. Tell me if you see what I see.”
Mickey continuing looking up, frustration wrinkling his brow. But then his expression softened and he moved his eyes to Sage. “Naw…”
“Yeah. That cute little blonde waitress who’s been following you around?”
Kiefer could only imagine what he looked like but he wasn’t going to give them what they wanted. “What? No. She wanted an autograph and I gave it to her.”
Sage started laughing. “Yeah, I’ll bet you gave it to her, all right.”
Kiefer found his sense of humor wasn’t with him…not at all. In fact, he felt himself getting a little pissed. “I didn’t touch her, all right?”
“Sensitive,” Sage said, standing up straight. “So what the fuck is the grin all about?”
Kiefer felt his brow furrow. “What grin?”
Mickey finally made the shot and glanced up after the cue ball did its job, knocking a stripe into the corner pocket. “He’s right, man. You look like the Cheshire Cat.”
“He looks like he ate the Cheshire Cat…”
Kiefer let out the air in his lungs through his nose. He wasn’t going to be able to pass it off anymore. “Okay, okay…I met this woman, all right?”
“Duh.”
“But…I felt like I already knew her.”
Mickey waved at Sage, indicating it was his bandmate’s turn. “And that’s making you look like that? Just ‘cause you thought you knew her? C’mon, man…you’re holding out.”
Sage pointed the pool cue in his hand at his friend, shaking his head to the side to force the dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, you’re holding out. Cough it up.”
Kiefer shrugged. He knew his friends really wouldn’t give a shit what had happened, but he somehow felt that the time he’d shared with that woman had somehow been sacred. He had to put on his rock star face and pretend. So he shrugged again and smirked. “Yeah, okay, so I just got laid. You happy?”
Mickey started laughing and Sage focused on the table, eyeing the balls. “Fuck, yeah, I’m happy. Jesus. Took you long enough to spit it out.”
Kiefer tried not to roll his eyes. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You been in this band for how long, man, and you’re just now starting to act like a frontman. Fuck all comers and don’t look back.” Kiefer stifled the urge to shake his head and argue. Mickey
moved over to him and slapped him on the back. “That’s my boy.” Kiefer couldn’t hold back any longer and started to talk, but Mickey interrupted him. “Look. I know you take up the offer of pussy sometimes too, but it’s only on tour and it’s not as much as you could—or should. Seriously, it’s nice to see you let loose, man. Now you can make it through this week-long love fest.”
Sage made his shot and then looked up. “So what the fuck are we doing up here anyway? I know it’s J. C.’s idea of a retreat…”
Mickey shook his head. “He’s gonna move here, but we’re scoping it out as a possible recording studio in the future. J. C.’s willing to sink all the money he needs to into it, but he wants a place where we can chill and create without pressure from the bigwigs.”
Kiefer nodded. He’d never say it, but it was only a good idea in theory. He loved these guys and survived with them on tour. Creating music, though? Nights away from these guys were the only thing that stopped him from killing them.
He reminded himself that this week was not about music. It was a vacation…and he already knew he was going to have to find an excuse to come back to this bar once or twice to see if he could run into the woman who called herself Angelica again. Only this time, she wouldn’t be able to run away before she told him more about herself…and where the hell he knew her from.
Chapter Three
HEATHER ONLY MANAGED to find the cabin thanks to the Google Maps app on her phone. If she’d had to rely on an old-fashioned paper map or, hell, even Katie’s directions, she would have been lost, never to be found again until the spring thaw.
One thing Heather had to admit—it was beautiful up here. She’d never been to Winchester. She’d been to other places in the same area, places like Cripple Creek and Woodland Park, but Winchester was just as beautiful, probably more so. The trees were tall and green, the skies so blue that the white of the clouds stood out. And once she got out of town, she loved how all the homes were spread so far apart that she could appreciate all the loveliness nature had to offer.
Seal All Exits (Tangled Web #3) Page 2