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Wild About Her Wingman

Page 9

by Robin Bielman


  “So you really did those things?”

  “I really did those things.” He tugged on his shirt collar as though he was uncomfortable.

  Erin’s heart raced, jacked up at the thought of Troy holding his own with her out on some remote climb or hang gliding off a steep mountain terrace. “Then I don’t understand,” she half whispered. She didn’t know him at all.

  His eyes softened. “Some things take me longer to share than others.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She found herself leaning closer to him, seeking his warmth, wanting him to know that she appreciated learning more about him.

  “Suffice it to say, Miss Watters, that I know all about freestyle.”

  The way he said “freestyle” had her toes curling. Like he wasn’t only talking about some outdoor sport, but something indoors with bodies naked and slick with the best kind of adrenaline rush.

  She jolted back. She had to stop extrapolating nonsense and hearing only the sexiness in his voice.

  “Sorry about that,” Michael said. He brushed her arm as he took the spot next to her. “So listen, I need to go, but I was hoping I could get your number.”

  “Oh, uh…” She glanced at Troy. With his face turned away she couldn’t see his eyes or expression, and it bugged her. “Sure.”

  Because she liked Michael.

  But she feared she liked Troy more.

  Chapter Six

  Oliver had given Troy crap all week about Erin and it pissed him off. The guy kept arguing that the first time Erin met Michael didn’t count because she hadn’t given him her phone number. Which was true. Michael had also done something to piss her off and make her want to leave. A tidbit Troy didn’t share. But she’d done a one-eighty at the bowling alley and Troy wanted the credit and the win—before he saw Erin again and shared more about a past he no longer embraced. He’d heard the awe in her voice when he confirmed climbing Monument and bungee jumping. She’d been impressed, and that had fueled his desire to own up when he usually kept quiet.

  He chose to ignore the part of him that had listened to Michael talk about a recent climb and wanted to best him.

  Given the killer week he’d had with work and family obligations, he’d yet to get confirmation on Erin’s status with the guy, but he felt pretty confident they’d connected again.

  Because one more trip to the supermarket might do him in. Forget the produce aisle, he’d been propositioned in the refrigerated section with reference to the sausages. He was never eating a hot dog again.

  Tonight’s big-screen college football game at the Crown & Anchor promised to relieve some stress. He parked his truck and strode into the pub on Shane’s heels. “Hey, dude.”

  “Hey man,” Shane said, turning around and slapping him on the back. “Heard you guys had quite the week.”

  “Yeah.” His squad had been called to Portland to help first responders with a series of chemical explosions at an environmental services facility. Due to the nature of the chemicals and number of buildings affected, the fires had taken longer than expected to control and the area was evacuated. There had been several injuries, but no fatalities.

  “Come on. First round’s on me.”

  “Sounds good.” Troy scanned the very busy bar as he followed Shane. The smell of fried food wafted in the air and the football commentators’ voices on the televisions mixed with the loud conversations.

  He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping to find a certain blue-eyed brunette at the pub tonight. But spotting her sitting alone at a table near the dartboards was like a gift from the gods.

  “I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” Troy said to Shane.

  Shane noted where Troy was looking, laughed, and flicked his chin in good-bye, heading toward the booths on the far right side of the restaurant.

  Erin’s head was down and it wasn’t until he got a little closer that he noticed she was reading something on her phone.

  “Pretty girl like you should never be left alone at a table in a…” She lifted her chin and a pair of incredible bright-blue eyes hit him like he’d found long-lost buried treasure. He’d been about to say “table in a bar” but he realized Erin should never be left alone anywhere.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi. You waiting for someone?”

  “I was. He just canceled on me.” She dropped the phone into her lap.

  “Anyone I know?” Troy sat.

  “Yes, actually. Michael.”

  “You guys dating?” His pulse picked up.

  “No. He’s canceled twice and to be honest, I’m over it. We’ve talked on the phone and he’s put me on hold because his other phone was ringing. He’s one of those.”

  “Those?”

  “Cares more about this little device”—she lifted her cell—“than anything else.” And then she dropped it into her bag like she couldn’t care less.

  “That’s too bad.” Not really.

  “Yeah, sorry. I guess you haven’t beat Oliver yet.” She pursed her pretty pink lips. “So what brings you here later than usual?”

  He was late? “Had a fire to put out.”

  “Seriously?” She leaned closer.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Smelling you.”

  As she angled toward him he got a glimpse down her gray V-neck sweater. He took in her smooth skin, the black lace outlining her cleavage, the tiny freckle in the center of the hollow. He gulped. Feeling her warm breath on his neck, desire hit him with hot sensation. He wanted to dip his head and press featherlight kisses there. Wanted to breathe her in. Put his hand under her short skirt and inch his fingers up her thigh until her legs opened wider and—

  “You’re full of shit,” she said, pressing away.

  Come back.

  “You don’t smell the least bit like smoke. Was it something with Amelia?”

  The question shocked him, given that she wasn’t exactly comfortable with his niece. He glanced at her hand. Looked like her finger was completely healed now. That day at her condo, they’d eaten chicken nuggets and told knock-knock jokes and Amelia had squealed with excitement when Rover had scurried back into the house. But Erin had always kept herself just a little bit distant, like maybe she was worried about saying or doing the wrong thing.

  “Yeah, actually. She wanted me to color with her so I took a few extra minutes.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He wasn’t sure if she meant his actions in general were sweet or if taking time for his niece was sweet. He suspected there were probably a dozen other things Erin would rather do than color with a four-year-old, but she had brought up Amelia, not him.

  She simply shook her head. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.” For more than food.

  “Great. Order me the fish and chips when Kagan comes by? I’ll be right back.”

  Erin moved across the pub toward the restrooms and at least five guys took notice. Troy did, too. The high-heeled black boots she wore stopped just above the knee and left a nice expanse of smooth, golden skin between them and her short skirt. Her gait wasn’t pretty, but sexy in that way that said she had no idea how hot she was. And tonight her chestnut hair fell in loose waves a little less messy than usual.

  She’d dressed for a date with Michael and here he was. His lucky ass having landed in the seat before someone else’s.

  “Hi, Troy,” Kagan said, stopping at the table, a small pad of paper in her hand. “Don’t tell me that guy canceled on Erin again.”

  “I guess he did.”

  “His loss.”

  “It definitely is.”

  Kagan’s lips twitched and it looked like she was trying to hold back a smile.

  “I mean, everyone knows Erin’s a great girl, right?” He squirmed in his seat.

  “Right. And you want to win your wager with Oliver.”

  “Damn straight I do.” He ran a hand along his jaw. “I need to put that guy in his place.”

>   Meaning the supermarket. For two glorious months.

  She tilted her head and studied him. “So are you staying to eat? Can I get you guys something?”

  “Yeah, two fish and chips please.”

  “You got it. Anything to—” She glanced over her shoulder at some guy yelling a few obscenities. “So I guess the rivalry between the Ducks and Oregon State has brought out everyone’s not-so-nice side.” She turned her head back. “Want anything to drink besides water?”

  He noticed Erin didn’t have anything extra. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Yes, you are,” she mumbled.

  “Pardon?” Had she just said yes, you are?

  She just smiled and strode away, hip bumping Erin as they passed each other.

  “What’s up?” Erin asked, sitting back down. “You look a little flustered.”

  What was up was after only a second back in her presence, he wanted to bump her hip and a couple of other places, too.

  “I think Oregon State just scored,” he said, forcing his attention to the game and hoping he wasn’t too far off base.

  She smirked, but didn’t turn to check out his claim. “I like the Ducks better too, but I bet Luke they’d lose this week.” Then she bent to take a drink of water, her lips wrapping around the straw in the glass, her lashes reaching her brows as she kept her focus on him.

  Blood rushed to points south as he watched her suck on her straw.

  “So, uh—” His cell chirped a text message. Given how Erin felt about the tiny device, he ignored it. Then thought better of it. It could be his sister or mom. He looked at the screen and cleared his throat. He read it again, surprised he’d just gotten that kind of text.

  “What is it?” she said, curiosity in her voice. “You’re blushing.”

  He made a face. “No, I’m not.” He glanced back down at the phone in his hand.

  Erin scooted her chair around until they bumped knees and she could lean in and see what he was staring at. She wrapped her hand around his and read the text message.

  “No way. You just got sexted!”

  “I can see that.”

  “There’s no name, just a number. You don’t recognize it?”

  “No. Whoever it is, she’s sexted the wrong person.”

  “So she’s not an old girlfriend or something?”

  “No.”

  Erin tilted her head, her nose mere inches from his. She seemed to consider every feature on his face before turning back to the text.

  Baby, I can’t wait to blindfold you and do things until you beg me to stop, it said.

  Erin bounced in her seat and wrangled the phone from his grasp. “Let’s sext her back.” Her fingers got to work. That was totally okay with him, since he was very curious about what she’d say back. She showed him the message.

  I am so hot for you right now. Wait until I turn the tables and get you on your knees.

  He nodded and tried not to think about Erin on her knees. She pressed send.

  A reply came immediately.

  Oh, baby, please tell me I can touch myself while I wait for you.

  Erin giggled and texted right back. Do it. Take your fingers and put them where you know I like best.

  Was it getting warm in here? He put a finger under his shirt collar and pulled it away from his neck. Erin wiggled closer as they huddled together to wait for the next response. She smelled like some exotic flower and he had probably his twentieth flash of her on his bed, hungry for him. Craving his touch. Wanting him to do things to her over and over again. He got uncomfortable behind his zipper.

  Oh baby, it feels so good, but I need you. Now. Want to see what I’m doing?

  “Okay,” he said adamantly. “Time to tell her she’s got the wrong number.”

  “Party pooper,” she said.

  Would she have seriously looked at an X-rated picture with him? Shit. His arousal took on new proportions and he needed to cool the hell off before he hauled her somewhere private.

  Sorry sweetie. Wrong number. Have fun with yourself. She put the phone down and looked up at him.

  Very slowly the corners of her mouth lifted, her eyes sparkled, and she fell into a laugh that made her whole body shake. He couldn’t help but join her.

  Another text arrived. They looked at each other quizzically, then glanced at the phone.

  “Oh my God! Gross!” she said.

  Troy shut his eyes. “Aw, man.”

  “My eyeballs are having convulsions.” She pushed the phone away.

  Their mystery texter wasn’t a she at all, but a he. And he’d decided to send a picture anyway with a very unfriendly two-word caption that started with the letter F and ended with “you.”

  Erin giggled. “I can’t believe he sent a picture anyway.”

  “Guy has balls,” Troy said.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes widened, and then she went into full-blown hysterics, laughing so hard she had to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  “That was flipping funny,” she said when she’d calmed down. “He sure does.”

  Troy’s grin grew. And he’d remember the way it felt all the way into next week. Hearing Erin laugh, watching certain parts of her jiggle, feeling her shake against him, it all overwhelmed him in the best possible way. He struggled to keep his hands to himself.

  “So, was that your first time?” she asked.

  “First time?”

  “Sexting.”

  “I never kiss and tell.”

  “That means you have.” She scooted over, but still remained close enough for his hand to— “Which also means you’ve had a girlfriend.”

  He rubbed his jaw, not ready for this conversation yet. He’d planned to tell her about Jamie tomorrow during their exposure therapy session. “Says the girl who didn’t hesitate to sext back.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve pretty much done it all.”

  “Really?” He tried to sound uninterested, but failed.

  “Yep. Handcuffs can be especially fun.”

  “Yes, they can.” He kept eye contact, and at her disarming smile found himself smiling right back. Ball’s in your court.

  She propped her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. “Tell me about it.”

  The sounds in the bar disappeared, air molecules stopped circulating, and Troy’s body wanted to show Erin all about it.

  “I don’t—”

  “Kiss and tell. I know. Tell me how you’ll use them on your next girlfriend.” Her voice a little breathy, she leaned forward.

  Challenge accepted.

  “Okay. I’d start by laying her down on my bed and undressing her. Slowly. Carefully. So she wiggled and stretched and soft pants escaped her lips. My hands would be all over her. My mouth, too. When she wore nothing but the blue scrap of lace between her legs, I’d take her wrists and cuff her hands to my bedpost.”

  Erin squirmed. Ever so slightly, but enough to fuel his interest to continue. They were stuck on each other’s gazes, an invisible snare neither wanted to break free of.

  “Then my lips would start at the spot just below her ear, work their way down her neck, and glide across her collarbone. I’d kiss down her body until she arched her back, telling me she wanted more.” He fisted his hands to keep from touching Erin. Took a breath to give her time to say she’d heard enough, but she didn’t. Her pupils dilated, her lips parted. Holy hell. “I’d be so caught up in the scent of her, the softness of her skin, her sexy whimpers, that my body would ache to—”

  “Ahem.” An arm reached between them and dropped a plate on the table. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Erin blinked in quick succession before looking up at Kagan. “No,” she said, breathless, and looking so damn beautiful and responsive to his words that he almost let out a groan. Color filled her cheeks, her lips were still parted, her gaze hot.

  “Uh-huh,” Kagan said, putting the other plate down next.

  “Thanks,” he managed to get out.


  Kagan looked back and forth between them, smiled, and left. What was with her tonight?

  He and Erin didn’t say much for a while after that. The intimate vibe cooled quickly, as if they both realized how foolish they were being. He ate. They watched the game. Somehow they got to talking about movies, which led to romantic comedies, which led to her being shocked that he hadn’t seen Love Actually and her insistence that he watch it with her tonight.

  A half hour later he sat on her couch waiting for her to change before they started the movie. Rover was curled up on his lap, giving his hands something to do and his mind something to focus on besides Erin. How old is he? Are cats or dogs more popular as pets? Is there a point to whiskers? How high can Rover jump? Three feet? Five feet? How much does he sleep? Troy yawned, the hellish week catching up to him. Do cats sweat? Do they like people food the way dogs do?

  “Hey, want some popcorn while we watch?” Erin popped back into the room before moving into her small kitchen. She had on black yoga pants and a light-blue sweatshirt with a faded white heart in the middle. He blinked away the quick image of her in one of his sweatshirts and nothing else.

  “No thanks, I’m good.”

  She grabbed a bottle of beer and a bottle of water out of the fridge.

  “I’ll take a beer, too,” he said.

  “Really?” She made the switch.

  “It’s been a while and it sounds good.”

  She handed it over and plopped down on the couch beside him. Rover brushed against her before he took off for somewhere else in the house. She picked up the remote for the television and found the saved movie. She glanced at him. “I might have just watched this last week.” Her smile stilled his heart.

  And he dreamed about it when after another beer and about an hour into the film he fell asleep with Erin nestled next to him.

  …

  Erin lifted up the black felt pen from Troy’s very handsome face. Cat whiskers decorated his cheeks, the tip of his nose had a solid black circle, and triangles marked the corners of his forehead.

  He’d swiped at her a couple of times while she gently worked, but stayed completely passed out, two beers and exhaustion from a long week of work the culprit, she guessed.

 

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