She poked him lightly in the chest. “You know, for a guy surrounded by a bunch of people who appear to be having the time of their lives, you’re not looking too happy.”
“I’m thinking.”
Blue eyes flashed behind silken strands of damp hair. Her shirt, plastered to her skin even before the water happened, clung to every curve. And he wanted her. “About what?” she asked.
“This.” He reached with his free hand to cup the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his. Standing in the spray while lightning struck—probably not the best idea, but he devoured her anyway. Water hit the back of his neck and splattered, creating a cloud of raindrops around them. A good thing, considering what he intended as a playful kiss had quickly morphed into an explosion of need best experienced without witnesses. He regretfully broke free, finding her eyes dark with the same desire that had overtaken him.
“Want to go check out the air conditioning?” she whispered.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Seven
They raced up the apartments stairs. All four flights. Stupid elevator. Estelle wrestled her keys out of her wet pocket and unlocked the apartment. When she threw open the door, cold air blasted so hard she took a step back.
“Wow. That’s one effective air conditioner.”
“Completely my fault. I forgot to mention it’s rated for a bigger space.” He went over and turned it down. The compressor kicked off, but she felt like a Popsicle in her wet clothes. Her teeth chattered and made it official, leaving her to wonder if Crosby liked Popsicles. And if he ate them with long, slow licks. Or sucked on them. So many possibilities. She shivered. “Maybe open the window for a while?”
“You’ve got it.” He unlocked and raised the window, and blessedly hot air blasted through. “This won’t take long.”
“Just what a girl wants to hear.”
“I stand corrected,” he said. “This could take all night.” Then he leaned in and planted a toe-curling kiss on her lips. Chaste enough that absolutely nothing should have curled, but it left her in knots anyway. All of her previous stranger-danger awareness had settled into something deeply sexual. He was a god of a man, and she’d given him the perfect out when she’d asked if he needed to go back to work. And he hadn’t taken it. Instead, he’d taken her to the park. He’d wanted her to see his world, and that touched her.
Chills snaked down her spine.
“Still cold?”
“Chilly.”
“That’s because you’re…wet.”
“I’m definitely wet.”
He was close. So close. His incredible eyes were on her. They were truly an unreal shade of green. She briefly wondered if he’d let her take a picture, but when she imagined that particular shot, it wasn’t just him, but also her. Laying against rumpled white sheets, their heads touching and bodies entwined.
Oh, shut up. You can’t see all of that in a selfie.
The intrusion of logic didn’t stop her from glancing toward the bed, unable to unsee the godawful Star Wars sheets she knew lay under the comforter. Grady was the ultimate geek. He’d promised he’d wash the bedding—and best she could tell by the lingering scent of laundry detergent, he had—but not that the linens were suitable for a grown-ass man.
She never dreamed she’d have one in her brother’s apartment, or she’d have replaced the sheets herself—not that it mattered. Anything that happened with Crosby had a definite expiration date. It didn’t matter how thoroughly he rocked her. Her life was on the opposite coast. She was a landscape architect, for heaven’s sake. She had her mother’s garden, and Estelle hadn’t earned her master’s degree to live in this urban anti-oasis.
“Where’d you go?”
She blinked her way back to Crosby and was immediately lost to the green depths of his eyes. “Right here,” she whispered.
He pushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face. “Can I kiss you?”
“You have to ask?” She struggled to stay upright when all she wanted was to fall into him. Her fingertips rested on his stomach, and she worried he’d think she was pushing him away, so she lightly gripped his shirt.
His eyes, still laser bright, had softened, leveling their own kind of seduction on her. He traced the side of her face, then her neck. “Yes, I do.”
Oh, swoon. “You just kissed me, and you didn’t ask first.”
“That was different. That’s not how I intend to kiss you. I planned something different this time.”
He planned? She released his shirt and rested her fingertips on his chest, marveling at how hard he was. But she didn’t marvel long before he spoke.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Whisper soft, husky, and gentle, his voice melted her. “Kiss me, Crosby.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before he had his hands around her waist. He lifted her without effort, then playfully tossed her on the bed, coming down after her. Before she could catch her breath, he was on top of her, all hard under his wet clothes but offering only gentle touches of his rough hands. His well-worn jeans were deliciously coarse against her skin as he moved between her thighs, but it was his mouth that truly did her in. His lips devoured her so softly that a strangled cry caught in her throat. She wound her fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer, deeper, but she was no match for all that long, lean muscle. He held himself easily, keeping that same slow, explorative pace that had her throwing one leg over his in a futile effort to drag him closer, to feel the sweet relief of any kind of pressure down there. He finally relented and the ridge of his erection between her legs nearly did her in.
“Oh. My. God.” She fed him the words on a moan.
His lips stretched into a smile against hers. “Is that good?”
She responded by pulling him in for another kiss. This time he wasn’t quite so sweet about it. This time he demanded it, which had her imagining all kids of other demands. Naked ones. Ones that would leave them both sweaty despite the air conditioner that, even with the open window, still had the temperature hovering at refrigeration. But she could totally do freezing as long as she didn’t have to do it alone.
His kisses moved to her neck, and she turned her head to the side. His fingertips had just found her breasts when she saw it.
The damned Hell Cat was on the bed next to them, all of six inches from her face.
“Jesus.” She jerked away, managing to hit her chin on Crosby’s forehead.
“What the—”
“The cat,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.”
He swore a soft oath, at the same time managing to shift them together across the queen-sized bed to eradicate her view of the creature. “Where were we?”
“I think we were being stalked by that demon spawn.”
“I think I was about to kiss you again.” He angled his mouth over hers.
She wasted no time in granting him entry. She held on as he settled his hands around her waist, giving her brief, thrilling thoughts of being held as he drove into her. One by one, the imaginary scenarios in her head gave way to reality. No longer did she have to imagine the weight of him between her thighs or the thrilling contrast of soft sheets and his hard body. Clothing still covered the important parts, but already the sex was incredible. In her mind, she had gone there. So gone there.
He broke the kiss. “Estelle?”
“Got it in one,” she said, breathless and not really caring what he called her.
“Funny. Look on my back.”
“Um, okay?” She did a slight sit up, pushing him slightly upward in the process, and found herself staring over his shoulder into the yellow eyes of evil.
She fell back against the mattress, more than a little terrified but lacking options. “What is it with you and that cat?”
Crosby shook his head and laughed. That was when she noticed he was holding a plank position over her with what looked like ease. She couldn’t do a plank for ten seconds without shaking and sweating like s
he’d run a marathon, and he looked…relaxed. “Could you, I don’t know, move him?” he asked.
“Are you kidding me? He bit you on the ass.”
“Which is pretty much my point right now.”
“Fine.” She forced a mock growl and eased out from under him while he kept his iron-man pose. The cat gave her minimal regard as she climbed off the bed and, circling wide, came up from behind. She couldn’t help but notice Crosby’s phenomenal ass. And his back. It was a solid plane of muscles, and the furry addition was kind of cute in the hot guy holds a puppy kind of way. Only the cat wasn’t a little ball of squirmy puppy. It was a freaking sentry of hell, and now she had to touch it.
She glanced at the window. Still open. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the feline from behind by his kitty armpits and, holding him at arm’s length as a growl rumbled from the cat to shake her bones, walked him to the window and gently dropped him onto the fire escape. She quickly shut the window. The cat turned around, sat down in front of the glass, and promptly doubled the intensity of his evil personified glare. She locked the sash. Probably should have done that sooner anyway. The locks that studded every possible exit probably weren’t there for the aesthetics.
She turned to find Crosby standing behind her and grinned. “Where were we?”
Chapter Eight
Crosby was torn. He wanted nothing more than to touch Estelle. To relish every inch of her body. But she intrigued him in other ways. She was genuine. Free-spirited. She might feel trapped by the small apartment and the concrete walls that marred the view in every direction, but she maintained her sense of humor in spades. He couldn’t get through a single day without worrying about the future of his company and she—
Wait.
He had gotten through a single day.
This one.
With her.
Which probably meant he’d doomed his grandfather’s business to oblivion.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“What?”
“Going all pensive on me.”
He shrugged out of his wet shirt and gave serious consideration to helping her out of hers. “What can I say? I’m a thinker.”
“Are you thinking about showing me your ass? Because I really should look at that bite.”
“Your entire afternoon has revolved around my ass.”
“Not yet, but if you want to make your move, we might be able to arrange that.”
“Are you sure? Really sure? Because the cat’s locked out, my cell phone is off, and that air conditioner isn’t likely to catch on fire. We’re about out of interruptions.”
“I’m really sure.”
His mouth was on hers before she finished the sentence. She squealed at his mini-attack, then looped her arms around his neck as he dove in, tasting heaven. He eased her to the sofa, but it was too short, so it thwarted his attempt to get horizontal. He dropped one leg over the edge and used it for leverage, deepening the kiss. The little sounds she made suggested she liked it…at least until his foot hit the coffee table and overturned it, dumping a half full cup of water on the floor.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered. It was just one thing after another with them.
He stared at her, faced flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, and could do nothing but shake his head and laugh. After a quick glance toward the mess, he pushed the bulk of it away, then twisted and pulled her down to the floor on top of him. Surprise lit her eyes. Then she ever so fucking slowly leaned down and licked his nipple. His dick snapped to attention, and he was half surprised it didn’t fling her across the room, catapult style. Thank God he still wore his jeans.
He ached. Ached. And that tight little ass of hers straddled him, his shell-shocked man of steel lodged between her thighs. By the time her tongue made a tawdry tour of his other nipple, he managed to sit, trapping her with his hands at her lower back. With her straddling him, her breasts were at mouth level. He wasted zero time latching onto one, but the mouthful of fabric wasn’t enough. Apparently she felt the same way, because in one lightning-quick move, she jerked off her tank top and left him staring at her bra. No visible hooking mechanism. Great. Fortunately she didn’t wait for him to do the honors. She reached back and had the garment off with impressive speed.
He didn’t waste time on a compliment. Instead, he sucked one tight nipple into his mouth. When she arched against him, jutting that breast further into his face, he almost came on the spot. Her fingers had a death grip on his hair, and she was moaning and riding him like he was a fucking Clydesdale. He forced himself not to think beyond her breasts. To absolutely not think about plunging between her thighs.
He failed on that last point in a very big way.
He switched to the other breast, sucking and tonguing the peak until her every breath formed his name. He felt like he was going to break something in his jeans. Penile fracture was an actual thing, and…screw that. He managed to scramble to his feet without losing his hold on her delectable body. He carried her, walking in the general direction of the bed. When his knees made contact he tossed her playfully, landing on top of her in time to swallow the squeal that erupted when she bounced on the mattress. He reached and managed to unbutton her shorts in one move. He was seconds away from plunging his finger inside her when he stopped, slowed his kisses, and withdrew just long enough to render her completely naked. “Gorgeous,” he murmured as he tossed the remainder of her clothes. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
“Yes, you are.” Her words barely formed around her ragged breaths. “Now where were we?”
“Breaking the coffee table.”
“Screw the table.” She sat and grabbed him by the waistband, then hauled him back to the bed and on top of her. He caught himself and limited their physical contact to his mouth on her nipple, right where he’d left off. She hissed her pleasure and fisted the comforter, yanking it out of sorts to reveal…Star Wars sheets? This would be a first.
“I’d rather screw you,” he said, his tongue working her tight little nipple as he spoke.
“Then do it.”
Oh, hell yes. “Are you sure?”
“Where ya been, green eyes? I told you I was drenched a long time ago. Also, I would have wounded you before I let you take off my pants.”
“Good to know.” He loved that she was threatening to kick his ass even as she tore at the linens and spread her legs beneath him. And there was just one layer of denim between him and…he dropped his head. “Crap.”
“What?”
He sat back and calculated the distance to the nearest drug store. Too far. They’d both have plenty of time to come to their senses, and just this once, he didn’t want to be sensible. Mentally he scavenged his apartment and came up empty, which only left one option. “I don’t suppose you have any condoms?”
She pushed up to her elbows and stared. “You’re kidding, right?”
He tried not to notice her breasts, but they were spectacular. And teetering on off limits. “What about your brother? Does he have any around here?”
“Okay, first of all, ew. Second, he has no game whatsoever. There’s no way he owns condoms.”
As she spoke, Crosby reached past her and rummaged through the drawer in the table by the bed. He extracted a strip of condoms. “Bingo.”
She fell back to the mattress and closed her eyes. “Oh, God. And the box was open?”
“The box was open,” Crosby confirmed. But Estelle had him worried. And there were Star Wars sheets on the bed. He looked more closely at one of the packets. “They’re not expired. Over three years left.”
“Seriously, ew. He’s got to be making balloon animals with those things.”
“As a red-blooded man who has been single forever, I can assure you that’s not what they’re there for. If nothing else, it’s optimism.” He dropped the packet on the table and dove back in. He was well into a long, lazy tour of her mouth when he realized she’d managed to work loose the button of his jeans. He had a
brief come-to-Jesus moment when she snatched down the zipper, but he was rather uncomfortably lodged in the down position, which at least saved him from a run in with the metal teeth of hell.
Been there, done that, had the scar to prove it.
“You really should be naked with me,” she murmured as she worked his jeans lower. They weren’t going too far, though. Not unless he helped, which he didn’t do in the least when he dipped his head to once again covet her nipple. He stayed only long enough to enjoy the victory of her gasp, then eased lower. He ran his tongue along the underside of her breast, right where it met her rib cage.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and arched beneath him, muttering “Oh, God. I didn’t know that was a spot.”
He ignored her, except for the smile that he hid against her skin, and continued his tour across her abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses. He reached to softly cup her breasts, to gently toy with their hardened peaks, as he made feather soft tracks past her belly button. A couple inches lower and he moved his hands to her waist, then to rest on her thighs, which were open. “Nice landscaping,” he murmured, grinning when she let go of an exasperated breath. “Clearly a woman who knows her work.”
“My work has nothing to do with that landscaping. Also, you’re a tease.”
“I’m not a tease. I’m savoring.” Truth was, he was once again about to embarrass himself, but if that happened she’d probably never know it. He’d be hard as a rock again in no time, and his jeans were still damp from the water playground. Nice contingency plan, but screw that. He wanted her. Yesterday.
He lowered his head and blew gently on her swollen clit while she squirmed. He could only imagine the litany of profanity going through her head, but he wanted to hear it with his own ears. Determined to drive her wild, or at least to have her meet him there halfway, he gave her a long, slow lick…at the crease of her inner thigh.
Five Things I Love About You Page 6