Her Shirtless Gentleman

by M. Q. Barber

  Lucas swiveled in the seat. “Finally, somebody else he can beat on. You know how many times I hadda watch his stupid dance?”

  “Sherwood, you made it.” Brian pushed off and slid toward them. “And you brought someone way prettier than this fella.” He jerked his thumb at Lucas. “He doesn’t appreciate the allure of the turkey dance.”

  Eleanora craned her head beside him, her brows furrowing. Introductions, right. With the bodily fluids flying around, she’d missed out on the full meet-and-greet at the bar.

  “Eleanora, meet Brian and Lucas.” He waved toward each in turn with a shoe-laden hand. “I promise, they’re nice guys when they aren’t hanging out on bar floors.” Better company than the girls she’d been spending her time with, he hoped. Relaxed, not making her prove something.

  “Oh! It’s nice to meet you.” Shoving her ball into the crook of her arm, she extended her other hand to Brian. “Sorry, I just, you look like brothers. I didn’t realize you were a couple.”

  Brian busted out laughing. “Please.” He wiped lane grease across his shirt and shook her hand. “Like I’d let this twerp near my junk.”

  “Ugh.” Lucas kicked the back of Brian’s knee. Sibling love tap. The kid would have to try harder to knock Bri off balance. “As if I’d wanna be near your scrawny old junk. I’m thrilled you moved your ass out before we had to share a bathroom.”

  “When I moved out, Mom was still wiping your stanky ass.” Brian shoved Lucas in the shoulder and, when the twerp tried to retaliate, wrapped him in a headlock. “Lucas is my baby brother, Eleanora. Emphasis on the baby.”

  Cringing, Nora shot a squinch-eyed prayer glance at the ceiling. She gained a toothy grin on the way down, her head shaking while Lucas drummed his brother’s elbow to no effect.

  Good. The need to put her at ease, let her enjoy herself, hit him fucking sledgehammer hard. Brian and Lucas wouldn’t poke at her for one conversational fumble. These clowns would keep the dating pressure off.

  “Rob said we were joining the pair on lane sixteen, so I thought he meant a double date.” Her gaze held shrewd speculation, and her pursed lips invited a kiss. Full, pink lips.

  “Yeah, a date with Heckle and Jeckle.” He dropped the shoes by her feet and grabbed the ball from her arms. Safer than picturing where he wanted her mouth. “They get too rowdy for you, you let me know, Eleanora. I’ll boot ’em off the lane.”

  “Oooo, Sherwood’s got it bad.” Brian let Lucas break free. “He’s gonna toss us aside for a lady.”

  Lucas snorted. “Would you blame him?”

  “You knuckleheads ready to start a new game or what?” He loaded up the carousel with his ball and Nora’s, basic black and neon orange. Alongside the alien green waiting and the ball return spitting out another in black, the place looked decked out for Halloween. “I’ve got me a ringer here, and she’s gonna put you both to shame.”

  “Big words, airman. Let’s see what you and the lady can do.”

  Tying her rental shoes, his girl ignored the teasing. Her smile as she ducked her head seemed genuine enough.

  Lucas’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and new player names jumped to the display. Ringer. Airman. Buttface. God.

  Rob slung himself into the seat beside Nora. Pressing his hip to hers, he bent down and slapped the bowling shoes on. Smooth, creamy skin ran from her ankles to the edge of her shorts. A road his tongue ached to travel, her honeysuckle scent goading him on. He’d been so damned mesmerized at the counter, resisting the urge only because he’d given his fingers permission to massage her calves.

  “Okay, Ringer, you’re up first.” Brian delivered an expectant drumroll. “Show us what you’ve got.”

  Her breasts dropped into his eyeline as she leaned forward. Jesus. Shirt-covered, but still. Round, firm, and the perfect packet size for his capacity. Christ himself hadn’t been so tempted.

  “You know I’m not a ringer,” she whispered. “I don’t know the first thing about bowling. What do I do? Tell me what to do, Rob.”

  Blood surging to his dick, he clamped down on a thrust. Way too early in the night for those thoughts. “I’m sorry, miss, but that’s—”

  “Classified.” She giggled.

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you situated first. Stance, steps, and release.” Release. An uncomfortably accurate word choice. “That’s all there is to it.”

  He lined her up a smidge off-center as he explained the guide arrows and the benefits of spin. Good excuse to touch her. Nudging her elbows and knees into alignment, he tucked her body into a compact pose ready to launch from a short runway. “Mind the fault line. It’ll buzz if you go over, so you wanna measure your paces first.”

  She gave the sequence a try without the ball, four steps, hips swaying and arm swinging. Twice more. “How’m I doing, coach?”

  “Beautiful. Let’s add the ball this time and see how she goes.” Grabbing the orange ball, he ignored the snicker behind him. He waited for her to get into position and handed over the ball. “That’s it. You want to cup the ball firm but gentle, too. Don’t push. Let the weight roll off your fingertips.”

  “Yeah, cup his balls gently,” Brian teased. “Fingertip precision. Rob needs delicate handling.”

  A snapping shutdown leapt to his tongue.

  Blushing, Eleanora glanced over her shoulder. “You seem to know a lot about how to handle Rob, Brian.” A flash of boldness lived in her eyes and her smile. “But I don’t hear anyone in here offering to cup yours.”

  Brian groaned, and a chair creaked. “You wound me, Maid Marian.”

  Eleanora’s smile gained an extra mile. The night seemed headed in the right direction. Squeezing her in his arms, he kissed her cheek.

  Lucas chortled. “Rob’s girlfriend scored off you, bro. You better up your game.”

  “Find me an unattached girl in here as pretty as Rob’s, and I’ll throw out my best pitch.”

  * * * *

  She picked up steam by the end of the eighth frame. Might’ve gotten the hang of bowling sooner if she didn’t spend ninety percent of her time checking out Rob.

  He strode up with confidence and cradled the ball in large, long-fingered hands. Captivating, the way his fingers disappeared and the heel of his hand bumped the surface. Stimulating. Every night, thanks to him. Like he’d turned her on and her fumbling kept missing the shutoff valve.

  A bottle of beer dripping with condensation thrust under her nose.

  “Here.” Lucas dropped onto the curving bench beside her. “I, uh, kinda owe you one. For—you know.”

  An apology round for the fiasco at the bar. Sweet kid, when he didn’t stink of vomit. Maybe Rob had put him up to apologizing, but his open baby face and hunched shoulders blasted embarrassed sincerity.

  “I think you owe her more than one.” Brian swiped the second bottle from his brother. “Nice to see you make the return trip without spilling your stomach.”

  “Shut up, bro, can’t you see I’m having a serious thing here?” Lucas flamed pink as she imagined she did a dozen times a day. More since she’d met Rob.

  “Look, Eleanora”—Lucas cleared his throat—“you’re like, real nice, and not super-old, and I’m sorry about ruining your night. So thanks for not bailing on Rob and for, you know, not being a bitch about the whole vomit thing.”

  She hadn’t missed much by skipping the dating scene until she’d hit her thirties. Stumbling incoherence passed for manners at twenty-one. Wait ’til a guy hit maturity, and the excitement and uncertainty grew more attractive.

  Standing at the ball return, palming the ball rocking into his hand, Rob winked at her.

  Exponentially more attractive. Two weeks old, and their fledgling relationship seemed certain to sprout wings.

  “The night turned out the best I’ve ever had at that meat market.” She twirled the bottle in her hand. He’d brought her out for a night with his friends like she belonged in the gang. “So don’t apologize.” Not hiding her l
ike a shameful secret, not hustling her in and out of his bed, but introducing her like someone who’d be sticking around. Not the impression she’d gotten from anyone else in the bar week after week. “But for God’s sake, don’t do it again.”

  “Don’t worry, E. Next time I spew, I’m aiming at my big brother. Unlike you, he deserves it.”

  “Maybe you oughta help him out.” Small clusters of bowlers crowded the pits from here to lane forty, and every hand without a ball held a beer. The families had packed up for the night long ago. “Some of these hot thirtysomethings must be single. Target one of them, and let Brian rescue her from your inexcusable youth.”

  “Yeah, it’s old fogeys night here.” Lucas ran a hand down the back of his hair. “Uhh, no offense. Just, you know, all the cool kids are at the drive-in getting fucked on Friday nights. Too many lights here.”

  “Jesus, Lucas.” Brian smacked his brother on the forehead. “Try not to swallow your feet while they’re crammed in your mouth.”

  “What? ’Cause I said ‘fuck’? E’s chill, she’s not like the rest of these mom-types.”

  What the hell. She’d bitten her tongue so often around David. With Rob, she wanted to loosen up. “Rob and I went to the drive-in last weekend.” She swigged her beer, calm as could be. “He knows how to show a girl a good time.”

  Bluster, mostly, and a spell of blushing, but the guys cracked up with catcalls and hoots. Fun, though not as gratifying as the heavy stare Rob had going. Heat and pressure pinned her back in her seat. Promised her a stupendous night, better than the last.

  Every drop of approval and desire in his eyes egged her on to new boldness. A woman she’d never been, but one she yearned to be.

  Rob sauntered off the lane toward them. The display above his head announced his spare. Up next, Brian bounced to his feet.

  “You dog.” Brian punched Rob’s shoulder in passing. “You didn’t tell us about the good bits.”

  “Sure I did.” He settled next to her and draped his arm around her shoulder. “I said I went out with the woman from the bar. Everything about that was good.”

  * * * *

  Nora fit right in. Eased up, enjoyed herself, teased Lucas like a kid brother by the end of the night. Not the sort of date he’d have picked for a short-term gal, but Nora he meant to keep.

  She didn’t act too good for bowling with the guys or demand attention and compliments all the time. Fact, she seemed happier not being the center of attention. Cuddled into his side, letting the conversation flow around her, she tossed out quips to wind Bri up and inspired Lucas to new heights of goofy kid antics.

  She understood how family worked. Doing the chicken dance out on the lane with Lucas when Brian choked on the turkey.

  He’d half-calculated the gas left in his truck and the five-hour drive to his folks’ place before reality asserted itself. Taking Nora to meet the family when he’d known her all of two weeks would spook the shit out of her. But damn if he didn’t want to. Give Mama a call and tell her she’d be setting an extra place at Christmas this year.

  They closed down the place, herded outside with the rest of the stragglers a tick past midnight. Time to take his girl home and put her to bed. His cock jumped at the suggestion, an eager volunteer making a desperate bid to wave around in his shorts.

  He walked her to her door, same as after their movie date. Kissed her goodnight and kept some distance. The trembling, tongue-tied woman he’d bid goodnight last week met his eyes with bold determination tonight.

  “Do you want to come in for a drink?” Nora blinked like she didn’t believe she’d gotten the words out, but she’d done it.

  “I’d be right happy to.” No pressure. Down boy. He’d show her a good time without putting his dick in her. Maybe get the drink he’d been hungering for all week. Only if she wanted, too.

  “Good. Okay. Good.” She bobbed her head as she unlocked the door. More nervous by asking than she’d let on.

  God send a lightning bolt to strike him down if he fucked up the best gift he’d ever gotten by rushing her. If she woke up ashamed of herself the next morning, he might as well castrate himself for all the good his cock was doing him.

  * * * *

  She led him by the hand, her fingers too tense to let go. She flipped the light on with her free hand. Nerves firing, heart racing, panic blocking her breath.

  The door thudded shut behind her.

  Too late to turn back. The first time she’d invited a man in for fooling around. Sex, maybe. No, that’d be trashy. More slutty than asking him for—for what, she didn’t even know. He might.

  Spinning around, she swallowed past the terror in her throat. “You know I didn’t invite you in for a drink, right?”

  “That’s a shame.” Warm and seductive, he wrapped her in his voice. He teased her with his chest, the barest brush against hers. Entwined their fingers and stroked her palm.

  “It is?” Desire blazed a path from their points of contact. Her breasts ached with tugging insistence.

  “Mm-hmm.” He nudged her back to the wall.

  Good. She needed the help standing. Especially when he leaned his weight into her and the thick heat against her lower belly registered.

  “I’m awfully thirsty for you, Nora.” He kissed her.

  She welcomed his invasion with her whole body, swaying her hips for the thrill of his erection rubbing her belly. Arousal erupted as if he’d pressed passion into her with his tongue and his cock. A communicable disease, a fever heating her skin with blistering speed.

  He crushed her lips and stabbed his tongue between them. More than a kiss now. A devouring. He meant to gobble her up.

  She meant to let him. Exhilarating and terrifying in a single breath. Scrabbling for the edge of his shirt, she found the hem and shoved her fingers underneath. Her quaking body demanded she yank the shirt off him. She’d take everything off him and take him and finally be free of this pent-up passion—

  He clamped her wrists and pushed her arms against the wall. His kisses slowed until he caressed her mouth with the dreamy, languid warmth of a summer evening. The pull and retreat of a porch swing.

  Cotton whispered along her skin. He slipped her shirt from her shorts, his hands slow and sure as he stroked her stomach.

  The tumult drumming between her legs eased.

  He kissed her cheeks.

  Her lips parted for air for the first time in what seemed hours.

  “Forgot myself for a minute.” Shuffling his feet, he drew his hips back. “You make gorgeous music, honey girl, and you’ve got dangerous, dangerous fingers.”

  Cotton dragged higher. Cool air touched her ribs in territory left behind.

  “What say you keep them to yourself a little longer?”

  Her shirt inched over her breasts, up to her underarms. He rolled his thumbs across the top of her shoulders.

  “To myself?” Maybe her fumbling fell short of his expectations. His touch enthralled her. She’d give him the same incredible experience, if she could.

  “Uh-huh.” He lifted her arms with the steady press of his palms, taking her shirt with them. “Give me a chance to touch you without going crazy.”

  “I make you crazy?” She poured her panic into the hope he meant the good kind of crazy.

  As her shirt swept over her face, he groaned. He flattened his hand against the wall above her head, pinning the fabric and her arms in tandem. He’d need help to undress her now.

  She wriggled.

  “Wait.” His rasp might’ve been command or plea. Pressing their cheeks together, he nuzzled her ear. “You drive me insane. I’m eighteen again around you, hard at the drop of a hat and aching to pop. So please, Nora, let me keep those oh-so-eager fingers of yours far from my shorts awhile longer.”

  Heart hammering, she whispered agreement. Her inexperienced attempts couldn’t possibly arouse him as much as his confident caresses did her.

  Bunching her shirt in his fingers, he drew her arms together over he
r head. He flexed his forearm with tantalizing strength. “That’s right, tip back and show me your beautiful neck.” He scraped his teeth down the side of her throat and chased them with his tongue.

  The dual sensations reawakened the throbbing deep in her belly. A riot starting. Sneaking out for the night to meet up with a boy, a trespass she’d never tried, though her sister’d gotten away with plenty, and oh God, the appeal. Threats of groundings and phone bans wouldn’t have kept her out of Rob’s arms, either.

  Delivering sweet and sucking kisses, he traveled toward her breasts in an unhurried descent. He traced the upper edge of her bra with his heated tongue. The teasing dance set her squirming, bumping between the wall at her back and the man at her breast.

  He cupped her breast in his free hand and peeled part of her bra away.

  She raised a silent plea not to disappoint him now.

  * * * *

  Her flesh overflowed the top of her bra, nipple straining in the open air. Soft, supple skin under his fingers. Gorgeous blushing tips.

  “There’s the tight bud I want to taste.” He filled his mouth with her breast and lapped across her nipple. His cock banged at his zipper harder than a hacker at a firewall. Access denied, impatient bastard. Less than ten minutes of kissing her and he’d been ready to break his promise to himself. To pop his fly, shove down her shorts, and take her against the wall five feet from her front door.

  She squirmed. God how she wriggled and arched closer. Her ass thumped the wall.

  He’d have a hand inside her panties caressing her backside in a hot second if he had an extra. One fondling the breast not in his mouth. One clenching her shirt so hard his knuckles ached, but fuck if he’d let go.

  Her breathy alto moans cascading with every nip and suck dragged him near enough to coming. Freeing her sweet little fingers would invite more trouble for him.

  The volcanic surge in her, the way she’d swarmed him with grasping hands and searching fingers, had set him straight. He’d been out of control, and he’d made her out of control. They couldn’t do uncontrolled. Not yet.

  She hadn’t been with a guy since her husband. If she wasn’t a hundred percent sure, he’d be Mr. Rebound instead of Mr. Forever. No fucking way would he settle for being a fling, not with Nora.