The Next Move

by Lauren Gallagher

  Through the delirium, some vague memory of Chris’s migraine flickered through her mind, and she bit back a scream, suddenly worried he might still be sensitive to sound.

  Can I scream? Can I scream? Biting her lip, she moaned.

  His tongue and fingers dared her to even try to stay quiet.

  "Oh God, Chris…" Her fingers tangled in his hair as each gentle flutter of his tongue lifted her hips off the bed. "Oh my God, oh my God…" He didn’t flinch at all at the sound of her voice. In fact, every moan and whimper made him intensify his efforts, circling her clit faster, beckoning against her G-spot, until she couldn’t remember why she’d even thought to hold back.

  "Oh, fuck, I’m coming!"

  He didn’t stop until she begged him to, and a second later, he was over her, kissing her deeply with the sweetness of her pussy on his tongue. As he kissed her, she pushed his silk boxers over his hips, and he groaned as she stroked his cock.

  "I want to be inside you now," he said. He kicked his boxers off and reached for the bedside table, rifling around in the drawer until he found what he was looking for.

  "Obviously you’ve recovered?" she said as he rolled the condom on.

  He laughed, lowering himself over her. "I have." He kissed her. "And now I’m going to make up for last night."

  She bit her lip as his cock teased her pussy. "I think you already have."

  "Nope, not yet." He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he pushed into her. "Haven’t even started."

  Whimpering softly, she said, "Then what was…" Her voice caught. "What was everything you just did?"

  "That," he said, withdrawing slowly. "Was just because I can’t get enough of the way you taste."

  She tried to speak, but he thrust into her, knocking the air out of her lungs.

  "This," he whispered through clenched teeth, pulling out and slamming into her again and again. "Is for last night."

  Nineteen

  "Are you waiting for someone?"

  Kat turned around and instantly recognized Paul from his online photo. He actually looks like his photo. That’s a plus. She smiled. "You must be Paul."

  His uncertain expression immediately shifted to a warm smile as he shook her hand. "Then that answers my next question." He cleared his throat and gestured at the restaurant’s packed lobby. "Listen, I was thinking, this place is awfully crowded tonight, but there’s a Thai restaurant up the street…"

  Kat’s heart skipped. "I love Thai food."

  "You do?"

  "Absolutely. Let’s go." As they walked down the street, making small talk along the way, Kat couldn’t help but grin at her good luck. Attractive? On-time? Likes Thai food?

  Oh yes, tonight looks very promising.

  ~ * ~

  "Emily?"

  The blonde turned around and smiled. "You must be Chris."

  He returned the smile. "I am." And this evening already looks promising. Before he’d gotten her attention, he’d checked her out. Just as she was in the photos she’d sent him, she was petite but curvy, and very sexy. He liked her smile even better in person than in pictures.

  She glanced at the hostess’s podium. "There was a wait for tables, so I put us on the list. Should be another fifteen minutes or so."

  He gestured dismissively. "No need to worry about

  that."

  She cocked her head.

  To the hostess, he said, "We have a reservation for two. Under Bailey."

  The hostess looked at the reservation list and nodded. "Your table is ready, Mr. Bailey. Right this way."

  He exchanged a quick glance with Emily. The lift of her eyebrows and the way the corner of her mouth pulled up told him he’d just scored a few points for planning ahead. Good God, am I the last man on the planet that knows how to make reservations?

  ~ * ~

  "Damn, this place is crowded too," Paul said as they walked into the Thai restaurant.

  Kat scowled, glancing around the dimly lit and ostentatiously decorated place. It looked like a few people were waiting for tables, but the strong smells of curry, peppers, and coconut oil made her mouth water.

  "I don’t mind waiting," she said.

  He shrugged. "Works for me. I’m not in a hurry." He put their names on the list as Kat found a seat on one of the bright blue faux leather benches beneath a richly colored painting of a temple. A moment later, Paul joined her, draping his arm across the back of the bench, but not actually touching her.

  "They said it’ll be ten or fifteen," he said. "You sure you don’t mind waiting?"

  She glanced around the restaurant, then at his arm behind her on the bench. Thai food with a man who wasn’t afraid to make a subtle, but unmistakable first move, yet wasn’t pushy?

  "No, I don’t mind waiting."

  ~ * ~

  "So you said in your e-mail that you’ve been single for a while?" Emily said, swirling her wine slowly before taking a sip. Her gaze subtly shifted to his hand and he wondered if she was checking for an imprint or tan line on his left ring finger.

  "I haven’t had a girlfriend in a year or so." Chris closed his menu and put his hands over it, laying his left hand over his right and watching as she, just as he suspected, gave it a surreptitious look. "But I’ve never been married."

  "I’m surprised," she said, smiling. "I can’t imagine a guy like you staying single this long."

  He laughed and shrugged. "Just haven’t found the right girl."

  At that, her posture and expression both relaxed a bit, and her mouth pulled into a smile that suggested approval. "So you’re not one of those guys that’s afraid of commitment?"

  Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

  He cleared his throat. "Afraid of it? No. But, I’m not one to rush into it either." He sipped his wine. "What about you?"

  Setting her wine glass down, she took a breath. "Oh, I’ve been married. Have I ever…"

  ~ * ~

  The waitress came up to the table to take their orders, and Kat barely suppressed a sigh of relief at the interruption. From the moment she’d agreed to stay instead of finding a less-crowded restaurant elsewhere, Paul had graced her with endless tales about his thrilling travels to some of the more exotic parts of the world. At first, it was interesting. She always loved hearing about places she’d never been, but Paul, she’d discovered, possessed an extraordinary ability to turn any story into a chest-puffing, feather-ruffling brag about what he had done to single handedly make it the most exciting event ever. Somehow she doubted he was the first person in the world to pose in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa and make it look like he was holding it up, but he seemed rather proud of it.

  "Can I take your order?" the waitress asked.

  "Khao khluk kapi," Paul said. He might have impressed her with his ability to flawlessly pronounce the name of a Thai dish except that he shot her a look that said, "Isn’t that impressive?” which immediately cancelled out that effect. What a shame that someone so attractive killed it by being so full of himself.

  You’re off the menu for boyfriend potential, but you might still get a one night stand out of me if you lick your lips like that again.

  "How many stars?" The waitress asked as she scribbled it on her notepad.

  "One, please." He gave Kat another grin. She had a feeling he was reining back the spice on his meal in case she didn’t like spicy food. Nothing killed an evening faster than kissing someone who’d just eaten something extra spicy.

  "And you, ma’am?"

  Kat handed the waitress her menu. "I’ll just have the Pad Thai. Four star, please."

  "You know, make mine four star, too," Paul said. Just as I suspected. Even someone as desperate to show off as Paul wasn’t stupid enough to risk burning his date’s mouth when he kissed her. But now that she’d turned up the heat, so did he. Which meant he was planning to kiss her.

  You’re still in the game, Paul, just don’t talk me to sleep before my food gets here.

  "Four star?" Paul said when the wa
itress had gone. "Brave woman."

  "I prefer my Thai food hot." And as a bonus, it’ll probably be more exciting than my present company.

  "Ever tried five star?"

  She grimaced. "I’m not that brave."

  He laughed. "You know, when I was in Thailand a few years ago…"

  As he launched into another soliloquy about his worldly travels, Kat gritted her teeth and forced herself to smile through the boredom. Maybe I should have ordered five star…

  ~ * ~

  "So that’s why I finally decided to divorce him, and it’s just been messy as hell ever since." Emily gestured with her wine glass—was it her third or fourth?—and nearly hit the waitress as she walked by.

  Chris swallowed hard. So far, he’d learned that she’d been engaged three times and married once. In between comments about her exes’ immaturity, lack of commitment, and fear of settling down, she cast him pointed looks that suggested that her earlier question about fearing commitment was not entirely in jest.

  Why did he always attract the women who were newly single and bitter? Something told him that if he kept seeing Emily, the hints about engagement rings would start before the sun went down on their third date. She’s not a gold digger, she’s a damned rock hound.

  "…and when his mother found out we were divorcing?" Emily rolled her eyes, gesturing wildly with her wine glass again. "Lord, I didn’t think a cell phone could hold that many voice messages. I mean, she went crazy." She shook her head. "But that’s not the worst of it…"

  Wouldn’t it be easier to just stay home with Kat and forget all of this bullshit?

  Silently, he pleaded with his phone to vibrate. It would give him an excuse to duck out of this conversation for a moment, but with any luck, it would be Kat. Why do I even bother making plans on Friday nights?

  "Unfortunately the judge gave us joint custody, but hey, that means I get every other weekend, so I can go out."

  Oh God. Kat, please, save me.

  ~ * ~

  "…but fortunately, I knew some guys there from when I was stationed in the area, so they hooked us up. Got us private tours of some of the palaces and temples in the region."

  "Sounds very nice," Kat said. She took another bite of her pad Thai, but even the four star spice couldn’t quite take the sting out of her boredom. Her cell phone stayed still and silent in her pocket in spite of repeated pleas for it to vibrate.

  Chris, if you call me right now, I will give you the fuck of your life just for getting me out of this.

  ~ * ~

  On their way out of the restaurant, Emily stumbled. Chris put his arm around her waist to steady her. "You know, maybe I should call you a cab," he said.

  "No, no, I’m fine. It’s these damned heels." She gestured at her shoes.

  You also drank three times as much as I did. "No, really, I don’t think you should drive. Here, I’ll pay for it."

  "You don’t have to do that," she slurred.

  "Do you want me to drive you home?" He held onto her a little tighter as another step didn’t land quite as well as she probably thought it would.

  "You can drive me home," she said, a playful lilt in her

  voice.

  "Why don’t I do that, then?" he said, smiling as he led her to his car. She wasn’t incoherent, but she was definitely too drunk to drive. She’d sobered up a little since before dinner, when she’d managed to draw the attention of half the restaurant during a long diatribe about her ex-husband’s courtroom antics. Chris wasn’t entirely sure where the alcohol stopped and the crazy started.

  After he’d eased her into the passenger seat, he went around to the driver’s side, pausing to check his cell phone for missed calls.

  None.

  He was tempted to send Kat a text message. It was after nine, but still plenty early enough to get together with her if she was available.

  If she was available.

  And if she is, she’ll call. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and got in the car.

  ~ * ~

  "I really had a good time tonight," Paul said as they stopped beside Kat’s car.

  "Me too," she said, hoping she didn’t seem too excited about the fact that their date was over.

  "Maybe we can get together again?"

  Dream on. "I, um, my schedule’s a bit packed this week, but I’ll e-mail you."

  He smiled. "Sounds good." He put his hand on her waist. "I’d definitely like to see you again."

  "Like I said, shoot me an e-mail."

  "I will." He tilted his head and leaned in to kiss her.

  She returned his kiss, which sent pleasant shudders through her, but she couldn’t be sure if the tingling in her mouth was from the kiss itself, or the fact that they’d both had four-star Thai food. Either way, at least that kiss was one redeeming feature of the evening.

  After a moment, she gently pulled away and whispered, "I should really go."

  His hand stayed on her waist, but he didn’t try to pull her back to him. "If you want to, we could go back to my place."

  Oh, Paul, my darling. You lost your shot at a one night

  stand after you spent fifteen minutes telling me about finding someone’s dropped contact lens in the gardens of Versailles.

  "I really shouldn’t," she said. "I’ve got an early morning tomorrow."

  "Okay then," he said, kissing her lightly. "I’ll e-mail you."

  "Good night," she said.

  "Good night." He walked away as she got into her car. Alone, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, cursing under her breath when there were no missed calls. She hoped Chris was having an enjoyable evening, but at the same time, she hoped his date was a bust.

  Whatever she’s doing for you tonight, I promise you I’ll do it better.

  ~ * ~

  "Careful, careful!" Chris steadied Emily as they made it up the last few steps to her apartment. He kept his hand on her arm even after they arrived at her door, making sure she stayed upright.

  "Thanks for the ride home," she said, grinning as she fished her keys out of her purse. "If you want to stay, I don’t have my kids tonight, so—"

  He put his hand up and shook his head. "Much as I’d love to…" In the same way I’d love to beat my head repeatedly against the wall. "I really shouldn’t."

  Her shoulders sagged and lips twisted into a disappointed frown. "Are you sure?"

  He nodded. "Maybe another time." He instantly regretted it when her eyes lit up.

  "So you’ll call me?" she said.

  Not in this lifetime. "I’ve got your number." Didn’t say I’d use it, but I have it.

  Evidently satisfied with his answer, she opened her front door. "Okay. Good night, Chris."

  "Good night, Emily." He kissed her on the cheek, but before he could pull away, she put her arms around him and kissed him full-on. In spite of himself, his breath caught, and it wasn’t just surprise. Her lips were gentle but insistent, and against his will and better judgment, his arms went around her waist and he let her tongue separate his lips. Oh hell, you had to be a good kisser, didn’t you?

  ~ * ~

  On her way home, Kat glanced at her phone a few dozen times. Call him? Don’t call him?

  She chewed her lip. It wasn’t as if he’d ever told her not to call. Quite the contrary. He knew as well as she did that dates often meant booty calls. If he didn’t want to hear from her, his cell phone would likely be turned off.

  But what if she called and he was with someone else? Even if he didn’t get her call until the next morning, how humiliating would that be? "I was in bed with someone else. Sorry your night didn’t turn out so well."

  She groaned aloud. No, she’d wait to see if he called.

  ~ * ~

  When Chris finally freed himself from Emily’s kiss, his good sense came back to him and he remembered why they were at her door in the first place. Holding her shoulders gently—partly to keep her from kissing him again, partly to keep himself from kissing her—he said,
"I really have to go."

  She smiled, licking her lips. "You’ll call me?"

  "I have your number."

  And Kat, you have mine. Use it. Please, for the love of God, use it.

  ~ * ~

  Keying into her apartment, the first thing Kat noticed was the clock over the television. It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but every passing minute made disappointment tug a little harder at her gut. He wouldn’t call after eleven. He’d either assume she was still out, or that she’d gone to bed.

  Or, he’d gone to bed.

  With someone else.

  "Fuck," she muttered.

  ~ * ~

  It was ten fifteen when Chris pulled into his driveway, and still she hadn’t called. Of course, the phone worked both ways, but he was not without his stubborn pride. It was one thing to call when he knew she was home for the evening and say his date didn’t work out. It was another thing entirely to call and say, "My date’s a bust, care for a shag? Oh, you’re with someone else. Sorry to interrupt. Have fun!"

  He rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath as he walked into the house. Glancing at the clock, he dropped onto the couch. If he didn’t hear from her by eleven, he’d assume she wasn’t available.

  ~ * ~

  Around ten thirty, Kat couldn’t take it anymore. She was horny, wound up, and needed Chris. Picking her phone up off the table, she found the speed dial for his number, but hesitated.

  ~ * ~

  "Fuck it," Chris said as the clock hit ten thirty. He flipped his phone open, pulled up her number, and, with his thumb over the "send" key, paused.

  What if she’s still out?

  ~ * ~

  What if he’s with another woman?

  ~ * ~

  What if she left her phone on and I interrupt?

  ~ * ~

  What if the woman gets upset?

  ~ * ~

  He put his phone down. If she’s free, she’ll call.

  ~ * ~

  Sighing, she put her phone on the table. If he’s free, he’ll call.

  ~ * ~

  At ten forty-five, he headed up to get ready for bed. "Whoever you are," he said into the silence. "You are one lucky bastard tonight."