Lucky Kiss

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Lucky Kiss Page 14

by Melanie Shawn


  “Whatever.” She was still grinning like an idiot as she looked back out the window. It was the lamest of all possible comebacks, but she hadn’t known what else to say. If her brain wasn’t consumed with the fact that they were alone in a small, enclosed area and she’d had six glasses of wine, she would’ve been able to come up with a wittier retort.

  When she glanced in his direction—because she couldn’t help herself—she was surprised to find him looking…serious.

  He took a deep breath before saying, “So, about the biddin—”

  “Oh my gosh!” Her hands flew up to cover her face. “Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Why?”

  When she peeked through her fingers, he sliced a wary look her way. Dropping her hands, she realized that maybe she was acting a tad dramatic. But she was totally playing a T-Pain card and blaming it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.

  Clearing her throat, she sat up a little straighter, which made her already-short hemline slide so far up her thighs, she was afraid Lucky was about to see London, France, and her underpants. The thought of Lucky seeing her red satin panties sent a buzz that had nothing to do with alcohol tittering through her.

  Trying to shake off the lust bees buzzing around, she attempted to articulate her embarrassment. “It’s just… I’m sure it was a mistake. Or a joke or something. Who in their right mind would bid five thousand dollars for me? They’ll probably have to run a retraction in the local paper and—”

  Lucky interrupted her rant. “Me.”

  “What?” Deanna blinked at him, unable to fit his response into the conversation puzzle she was mentally constructing.

  As they pulled onto her street, he clarified. “You asked who in their right mind would bid five thousand dollars for you, and I answered you. Me.”

  He wasn’t looking at her, so she couldn’t tell if this was another one of his jokes. It had to be.

  “Ha ha, very funny.” She grinned and shook her head as she playfully swatted his arm. He was obviously messing with her.

  When he turned his head and she was met with the intensity of his stare, her smile slipped and her breath caught.

  His deep voice echoed in the small space. “I’m serious. It was me.”

  “You’re not kidding!?” she exclaimed.

  “No. I bid and I bid high because I wanted to win.”

  “Why would you do that!?” she screeched as she slapped his arm again.

  This time, it wasn’t so playful.

  *

  Whoa. Lucky hadn’t really thought ahead to the big reveal of the night’s scheme. He wasn’t a planner. He was more of a “see something he wanted, do everything in his power to make that happen” kind of guy.

  Aftermath, consequences—those things didn’t usually register in his world.

  He’d wanted to win the bid. He’d won the bid. That was as far as this scenario had played out in his mind. But after seeing how upset Deanna was, he wished he would’ve thought this through. Although he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently.

  “Why!?” she demanded.

  “Because I wanted to.” It was the truth—not that his actions warranted an explanation.

  She’d been the one to put her time up for auction, hadn’t she? Why was she so surprised someone had bid on it?

  When they stopped in front of Deanna’s house, he was happy that he could give his full attention to this conversation. After killing the engine, he shifted to face her. Her arms were in their default position whenever they had conversations: crossed defensively at her chest.

  Narrowing her eyes, she spoke slowly as she parroted his answer. “You wanted to?”

  “Yes. You were the one who submitted your time to be auctioned off,” he pointed out. “I don’t really see how I’m the bad guy.”

  “You bid five thousand dollars!” she exclaimed as if that cleared everything up.

  “So?” Although he’d apologized earlier and not known what it’d been for, he had no intention of doing that now. “Like I said, I wanted to win.”

  “Why?” Her hands rose, palm side up. “Why would you pay that much money?” She pointed her finger at him and lowered her voice to mimic his. “And don’t you dare say, ‘Because I wanted to.’”

  She wasn’t trying to be cute, but she was cute. She really was.

  He answered her as honestly as he could. “I bid that high because I want to spend time with you.”

  She slowly nodded. “Oh, I get it. You’re one of those guys.”

  His left eyebrow rose. “One of those guys?”

  Her nodding grew more earnest. “Yep. You don’t get turned down. Like ever. So when a girl doesn’t jump at the chance to…well, to jump you, then it’s a challenge. Game on.”

  “That’s not why I bid,” he said. Then his mind started processing what she’d said.

  She wasn’t just some challenge to him.

  Wait. Was she?

  Shit. That would make him a monumental asshole. So he questioned his intentions for the first time…ever. He’d felt more alive, more focused, since she’d come into his life. But he liked her.

  It wasn’t about winning. It was about getting to know her.

  “Yes, it is,” she continued, unconvinced. “If I had said yes when you’d asked me to go with you, there’s no way you would’ve dropped five Gs.”

  “Yes, I would have,” he said, not second-guessing himself for even a second. He probably would’ve bid ten in that case.

  “Oh really?” she asked, her tone laced with disbelief. “Why? If I was already your date, why would you do that?”

  Because the thought of someone else bidding on you and spending time with you makes me want to hurt someone, he thought.

  That answer surprised him, but he was happy he hadn’t spoken his reason out loud. Something told him that she wouldn’t be flattered by his motivations.

  Her eyes searched his, and he wanted to close them. The way she was looking at him made him feel like she could read his mind.

  “You didn’t want anyone else to win, did you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Damn. Was he that transparent?

  “I did it because I wanted to,” he reiterated even though he was fairly sure it was in vain.

  This conversation had gone so far off the rails, that there was no way he was going to get it back on track. Especially since the conductor of this conversation train was driving them right into Aggravation Station.

  “Why would you care if someone else bid on me?” she asked with so much sincerity that it squeezed his heart.

  How could she not know how amazing she was? How could she have been shocked that someone would want to pay any amount of money necessary so they could win the honor of spending time with her? How was he going to stop himself from leaning over the console and enlightening her on both counts?

  Since that would probably turn this already volatile and stormy situation into a category-five hurricane, he refrained.

  “I like you, Deanna. Really like you. I think that’s pretty obvious.” His voice grew deep and his chest constricted.

  Flirting. Casual sex. Hookups. All of those things were easy. But, this… This wasn’t that. Lucky wasn’t used to putting himself on the line like this. Maybe, for some people, admitting that they “really liked” someone else wasn’t a big deal. But, for him, it was. It was a very big deal.

  Her brow furrowed as her gorgeous, green eyes continued searching his. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again.

  “What?” he asked as he moved closer to her. “What is it?”

  The corners of her eyes grew tight. “It’s just, if that’s true, then why did you bid anonymously?”

  Her question took him off guard. Did she think he was embarrassed about wanting to spend time with her? No. That couldn’t be it. Deanna exuded confidence. She was a firefighter. She was a badass. She’d turned him down. How could it be possible that she would think that?


  “I always make any charitable donation anonymous,” he explained instead of addressing his suspicion. They would have that conversation, but tonight wasn’t the night. “My PR team hates it, but I don’t give my money, or my time, or whatever to get something back.”

  She shook her head back and forth as if she didn’t believe him. Or at least like she didn’t want to believe him. Her body language was clearly communicating that she had more to say but didn’t want to say it.

  “What?” he prompted. “What’s bothering you?”

  A glimmer of hope sparked inside him when she took a shaky breath like she was getting ready to lay it all out on the table. But it quickly extinguished when, instead of showing her cards, she shut her mouth and folded her hand.

  He saw in her eyes that she didn’t trust him. And why should she?

  She didn’t know him that well. But, even if she did, it wasn’t like he’d lived the life of a saint. Far from it. Usually, he avoided getting the opposite sex to open up emotionally like the plague, but something was different about Deanna. He wanted to know how someone so beautiful, sexy, and confident could switch like a light and seem so vulnerable and unsure.

  Head-on wasn’t getting him anywhere. He’d told her that he was interested. He’d asked her what was wrong. He needed a new tactic.

  His mind started working like it did when he was pinned down on the mat.

  Don’t stop moving. Every move has a twin. If one isn’t working, use the other one. Forward momentum. Never give up. Never tap out.

  “Me not putting my name was nothing personal, but if you want I can take out an ad in the paper and announce that I was the bidder,” Lucky offered, totally willing to follow through if she surprised him and actually agreed.

  “No!” she gasped. Her eyes wide as she spoke slowly, deliberately. “Do. Not. Do. That.”

  “Are you sure? I can make an exception to my ‘no press’ rule for you.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I think I can even submit it online right now.”

  “Okay, you made your point. Now, stop.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers.

  The second her fingers brushed his knuckles, a shock of lust shot straight to the half-hard chubby he’d been rocking all night thanks to Deanna and the dress she was wearing. Actually, although the dress was amazing, he was pretty sure he would’ve been in the same situation if she were wearing a potato sack.

  His gaze first lowered to where their hands met and then up to her eyes. He noticed that she was perfectly still, like she was playing freeze tag. Also, her lips had parted and her breathing was coming in shallow pants. And lastly, and maybe his new favorite thing of all time, her cheeks were a deep shade of pink.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d made Deanna blush, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it wasn’t the last. In fact, soon—very soon if he had any say in it—he wanted to inspire that rosy tint with pleasure. The pleasure of his hands touching her, his mouth kissing her, his tongue licking her, his dick buried deep inside her.

  He wasn’t sure who leaned in first. Or if they both did simultaneously. But the next thing he knew, the distance between them was closed and they were lip to lip. The second his mouth covered hers, his body came to life in a way it only had when he’d just defeated an opponent.

  Her full lips were soft. He shifted in his seat and threaded his fingers in her hair, tilting her head to give him better access. A soft moan sounded from her throat as she parted her lips. Always one to take advantage of an irresistible invitation, he slipped his tongue inside her wet mouth. She tasted sweet, like strawberries and wine.

  From the first time he’d seen her, he’d wanted to know what she tasted like. Fantasized about how incredible her lips and tongue would feel.

  Reality was a thousand times better than fantasy.

  He tightened his fingers in her hair and she gasped as he slowly slid his tongue against hers. She gripped his shirt and tugged him towards her. His body was on overdrive, and every soft moan of encouragement she gave him amped it up even more. As he methodically explored her mouth, memorized the feeling of her lips, and let himself sink deeper into the velvet warmth of their kiss, he forgot where they were. Or that the world around them even existed.

  Thankfully, lights flashed into the SUV as a car drove past and he was able to pull himself out of the roaring waves of lust that were dragging him under the current of need.

  Gently, he slowed their fevered kiss. Pressing his lips softly first to her upper then lower lip, he rested his forehead against hers as his breaths came in short pants.

  “That was…” He didn’t have the right word to describe it.

  Yes, it had been a kiss, but it had been more than that. He’d kissed hundreds of women and he’d never felt like that. What they’d just shared was more than physical. It was emotionally intimate.

  Before he could finish articulating the experience, the realization of what they’d done seemed to hit Deanna like a freezing cold gust of wind. One second, she had been heavy lidded, her lips full and damp from having been thoroughly kissed, her body languid and relaxed. The next, her posture had stiffened and her eyes widened in what looked like horror.

  Okay, that was not the usual reaction women had after kissing him, but as he was finding out, Deanna was nothing like any woman he’d ever met.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped as she pushed her hands off his chest and reached for the door. She fumbled as she grabbed her purse while simultaneously attempting to exit the vehicle as fast as humanly possible. “I’m drunk. I’m sorry. Goodnight.”

  Lucky made no move to stop or assist her and remained silent as he watched Deanna Bishop’s Great Escape. After several failed attempts and more than one mumbled curse, she was finally successful at opening the door. When she stepped down, she stumbled over her own two feet. It wasn’t a graceful move. It was clumsy and bumbling. And it reminded him of Bambi trying to stand on the ice. Somehow when she did it, it was sexy, adorable, and cute-as-hell.

  “Thanks for the ride,” she said so fast that it sounded like one word instead of four.

  The door shut, and Lucky smiled as Deanna walked the short distance to her front door. Once she was inside, safe and sound, a wide smile spread across his face and a warmth filled his chest. He was happy. Which was strange, considering Deanna’s unfavorable reaction to their lip lock, and that the zipper of his slacks was digging into his shaft.

  He was horny. He was hard. And he was happy. Go figure.

  Chapter 14

  ‡

  “Oww,” Deanna mumbled as she lifted her hand to her forehead like she was giving a military-style salute in an attempt to block the harsh rays of the sun streaming through her sunglasses.

  It seemed like a setting in her body had been switched to slow motion. Her entire being ached, and her stomach was rolling like it was Tina Turner on a river. The pounding in her head wasn’t helping her think straight, and to top everything off, her mouth tasted like she’d been feasting on cotton balls despite the four bottles of water she’d drunk in the last hour. The only thing that felt fuzzier than her mouth was her mind.

  Her destination was less than a block away, yet she was having serious doubts as to whether or not she was going to make it. When she’d discovered that she had no coffee in her house, she’d made the brilliant decision to venture out to acquire some. Not completely convinced that she wasn’t still a tad bit under the influence of the vino she’d consumed last night, she had determined that it was better to walk the four blocks to the coffee shop instead of driving.

  Now, twenty minutes later, she was wholeheartedly regretting that decision.

  “Hey there! Congrats again!” Sue Ann shouted from her open car window as she honked her horn, presumably on her way to the café.

  Deanna raised her hand and flinched at the loud noise that had turned the volume of her headache from a five to an almost unbearable ten. “Thanks.”

  Her foggy mind felt li
ke it had been filled with cement that had hardened overnight. Trying to figure out why Sue Ann was congratulating her, she attempted to put the pieces of last night together and complete the jigsaw puzzle. All she could come up with were snippets. Dinner was the last thing she remembered clearly. Everything after that was hazy and choppy.

  She’d danced with Nikki and Amy. That she was sure of. The last clear memory she had on the dance floor was Nikki nicknaming the trio The Three Dancing Amigos. Deanna remembered that because Amy had corrected her sister that technically it would be “amigas” because they were female. Nikki had asked her if she could just, for one night, not be a teacher, and Amy had not seemed offended at all. She’d simply said no before explaining that she couldn’t shut it off.

  Deanna remembered feeling a twinge of envy because, growing up, she’d always wanted sisters. Siblings in general, but specifically sisters. As a kid, she’d always thought that having a sister was like having a built-in best friend. Seeing Nikki and Amy together had brought back that desire in full force.

  Shaking off that memory as she opened the door to Brewed Awakenings, Deanna tried to remember what had happened after the dancing. Then a sensation flashed through her body—being pressed against Lucky, his breath on her neck, and his hand resting on her bare back as his thumb made lazy circles at the base of her spine.

  She froze. Thankfully, she was last in the line of five, so freezing was a totally appropriate response to her current surroundings.

  Had she danced with Lucky?

  Her body answered with a resounding yes as a chill ran through her.

  Oh, Lord. This was why she had a two-drink maximum. She was a serious lightweight, and she hated the fact that she could only recall highlights of the previous night.

  A vaguely familiar customer passed Deanna as she was leaving the coffee shop and greeted her. “Morning. Congrats!”

  “Morning. Thanks.” Panic started to rise in Deanna’s chest.

  That was the second offer of congratulations. What in the world had she done last night? Had she done the Heimlich and saved someone from choking in her drunken haze? Had she delivered a baby under the influence? Had she performed CPR and resuscitated a partygoer who had suffered cardiac arrest while she was tipsy?

 

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