Walk On The Wild Side

by Jami Alden

  His stomach clenched as he waited for her reply, feeling like his entire future was teetering in the balance.

  “Okay.”

  He almost sagged over the steering wheel in relief.

  ###

  As they walked hand in hand into the restaurant, Molly decided this must be what skydiving felt like. Equal parts exhilarating and terrifying, hurtling yourself face first into danger, knowing that if anything went wrong you would find yourself smashed into the earth, broken apart into a million pieces.

  Because she knew that despite her feeble protests about not being ready, about going slow, if things didn’t work out with Brady she would end up as broken as a skydiver jumping without a chute.

  She thought she’d been so careful, keeping her guard up, her emotions out of it. But all it had taken was Brady’s declaration of wanting “more”—whatever that meant—to punch through her feeble defenses and send all of the emotions she’d been trying to deny spilling out.

  She was in love with Brady. It didn’t matter that she was sleeping with him on the rebound, or that he was the antithesis of the kind of man she’d ever imagined being with.

  At least he’d appeared to be. But his relationship with Jordan, and the kind, caring side he’d shown since her break up with Josh had her seriously reconsidering.

  Baby steps, she cautioned herself, even as a little thrill shivered through her as Brady placed a proprietary hand at the small of her back as the hostess led them to their table.

  “So how are you doing?” Brady asked after the waitress had taken their drink order and left them to contemplate the menu. “You, know after last night.”

  She shrugged, and took a sip of her water, forcing it past the sudden tightness in her throat. “I’m okay. Better than last night anyway.” She flashed him a little smile. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot today, and even though it wasn’t the answer I wanted, at least it was an answer. In the end it was just easier to let us go. I’m not going to say it doesn’t hurt, but I have Mom and Ellie. It’s not like I’m alone in the world. And hopefully by now I’ve learned my lesson not to chase after men who would just as soon have me fade away.”

  “No you’re not.” He smiled and reached across the table to take her hand. “For the record, you’ll never have to chase me. And if I was ever lucky enough to have a daughter like you, I’d never let her go.”

  Holy crap, is he actually talking kids? Molly’s vision went wonky as simultaneous feelings of panic and delight rushed through her, leaving her dizzy.

  Fortunately the waitress arrived with their drinks—vodka tonic for Molly and a beer for Brady—giving her a moment to composer herself.

  She and Brady did a quick consult with the waitress about what appetizers to order. After she left, Brady lifted his glass to hers. “Cheers.”

  “To first dates,” Molly said as she clinked her glass to his.

  “And hopefully a hell of a lot more,” he replied with a grin. He took a sip of his beer, then said, his smile fading, “I don’t think anyone purposely plans to give their kids the shaft, but not everyone is cut out to be a parent. Mine sure as shit weren’t.”

  There was no mistaking the bitterness as he took another sip of his beer.

  He’d alluded to his troubled family life plenty of times, but this was the first time he’d outright brought up the subject. “How so?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “You sure you want to know about this?”

  “If we’re going to date, shouldn’t I know a little bit more about you?”

  He gave her a begrudging nod. Still, she could see the gears turning in his head as he contemplated exactly how much information to impart. “They were married too young—my mom got pregnant with Connie when she was only sixteen. My dad was nineteen, and family lore has it that the only reason he married her was because my grandfather threatened dire consequences if he didn’t.”

  “Must have been pretty dire,” she said and took another sip of her wine.

  “I believe it was something involving Granddad’s shotgun and my dad’s ball sack. And my granddad wasn’t the kind of guy who made empty threats.” He smiled grimly. “Anyway, they were young and wanted to drink and party and whatever else teenagers with no plan and no prospects want to do. Having kids cramped their style. Connie and I were left to fend for ourselves most of the time. She ended up following our parent’s blue print—minus the husband—and I decided to get the hell out.”

  “That’s why you joined the military.”

  He nodded. “Got a one way ticket to basic, and vowed I’d never go back.”

  “But you did for Jordan,” she said, her heart swelling a little at the reminder that no matter how much he resented his family and wanted to escape his hometown, his devotion to his nephew won out. “That must have been hard, going back after so long.”

  He shrugged and took a sip of his beer, but she could see his tightness in his jaw. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I was happy to get the hell out and come back here.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Best thing for Jordan to get out too. I should have taken him with me back then.”

  The waitress arrived with their appetizers, and they were quiet for several moments as they tasted their food.

  “This is really good,” Molly said, nudging the plate of seared scallops over risotto toward Brady as he passed her the crab cakes. “But I bet you could make it better,” she gave him a cheeky grin.

  “Damn straight I can.”

  Their talk turned to lighter topics, and with every passing moment Molly felt herself relax. All of the anxiety over their seemingly momentous decision to take the next step in their relationship faded into the background.

  He’s still just Brady, she realized. The gorgeous, sexy, funny, gruff man who teased her and joked with her, then listened to her talk about her worries and fears as though he was really interested.

  Because—light bulb—maybe he really was.

  And let’s not even get started on how he made her feel in bed… Nothing had really changed.

  The only difference was that now she had the freedom to acknowledge and indulge in all of the emotions she’d been struggling to keep bottled up these last few weeks.

  And damn it, freedom felt good. If not a little scary.

  By the time their main courses arrived, Molly was feeling buzzy from her cocktail and the feeling that tonight the possibility of a great, bright future had opened up in front of her.

  And that little voice that cautioned her not to throw herself all in so quickly, especially so soon after Josh, was quickly stifled when she met Brady’s warm gaze across the table.

  “Here, try,” he said, offering her the bite of venison he’d speared onto his fork.

  She wrinkled her nose. “Eat Bambi? No thank you,” she said and took a bite of her rib eye, cooked perfectly medium rare. While many citizens of Big Timber were hunters, growing up in a family of women, Molly had never understood the joys of shooting a fuzzy woodland creature for sport.

  “Plain old cow is good enough for me.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “Only because Disney never made a movie about a black angus. Come on, when have I ever put anything in your mouth that wasn’t delicious?” he said with a wolfish grin.

  She cocked an eyebrow at him and couldn’t stifle her own smile. She tentatively parted her lips and accepted the bite. It wasn’t terrible, in fact, it was quite tasty, like steak with an earthier flavor. She told him as much. “But I still can’t get the image of Bambi and Thumper out of my head.”

  “So I guess you’ll neg my idea to put rabbit stew on the menu this winter?”

  By the time dessert came Molly was too full to have more than a couple bites of the salted caramel mousse drizzled with chocolate sauce. “Just as well,” she said as the waitress cleared it away. “They say the camera adds ten pounds, in which case I’m going to look like moose.”

  “Hottest moose I’ve ever seen.”

  She gav
e his hand arm a swat.

  “You’ve got something here.” He reached out and grazed his thumb over her bottom lip. The simple touch sent a shock of heat through her. He sucked the smear of chocolate off his thumb, turning her mind sharply to all of the other things those firm lips had sucked.

  She wished suddenly, intensely, that they were alone.

  Evidently he felt the same. He quickly waved the waitress over and handed her his credit card to expedite the check. Within minutes he had her hand wrapped tightly in his and was walking purposefully to the door.

  ###

  The drive from Livingston had taken half an hour on the way here. He made it back to her house in twenty.

  Brady pulled up into Molly’s driveway, his dick so hard he wondered how there was enough blood left in his head to function enough for the drive home.

  He got out of the truck and quickly moved to open her door before she could. Because hell, while he fully intended to have her coming her brains out within the next five minutes, chivalry wasn’t dead.

  She gave him a little smile and took his hand as he helped her out of the truck and walked her to her door. As she dug in her purse for her keys he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She unlocked the door and he followed her into the entryway, turning her in his arms.

  “Will you think I’m trashy if I invite you in after only one date?” she teased.

  “I’m counting on it,” he murmured and covered her mouth with his as she shrugged her coat off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

  He pushed her up against the door, his one palm closing over a silk covered breast while the other reached for the hem of her skirt. His fingers slid up the curve of her nylon clad inner thigh and she parted her legs.

  Heat sizzled in his palm as he cupped her sex, grinding the heel of his hand against her, frustrating them both as the tights prevented him from getting to her bare skin. “Fucking pantyhose,” he muttered against her neck.

  “They’re tights,” she laughed softly and pulled away. “Let me go take them off.”

  “Let me,” he said and started to reach for her.

  She backed away with a laugh. “Let me go change into something more comfortable.”

  Brady grinned and let her go, hoping that meant last night’s outfit would make a reappearance.

  He toed off his shoes, made himself at home on the couch, and took the opportunity to check in with Jordan.

  At Molly’s. Home in a couple hours.

  Jordan’s reply was instantaneous. Cool. Don’t forget to practice safe sex.

  Brady rolled his eyes, smiling as he remembered his awkward attempt to broach the subject earlier this week. Jordan had held up his palms as though to fend him off “Dude, you don’t need to worry. I don’t want to knock anyone up or get something that’s going to fuck up my junk.”

  He put his phone down, blood surging with anticipation when he heard the telltale sound of high heels tapping down the hallway.

  He’d hoped for an encore of last night’s outfit, and Molly didn’t disappoint. But tonight she’d forgone the robe and was clad only in the silk slip a few shades lighter than her creamy skin. He could see the faint pink of her nipples jutting clearly outlined by the thin fabric. He licked his lips, mouthwatering at the thought of sucking them into his mouth.

  She stopped in the middle of the room. She gave him a teasing look from under her lashes and turned a little to the right and the left. “You like?”

  I love. The words stuck in his mouth, heat roaring through him as she walked over to him in a slow, hip swaying strut.

  She stopped in front of him, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a tell-tale gesture. He realized, despite her swagger, there was still a kernel of insecurity. Damned if he didn’t want to prove to her that with him, there was nothing to feel insecure about.

  He leaned forward and caught her around the hips, a low sound of pleasure rumbling in his throat at the feel of the silky fabric shifting over her soft curves.

  He pressed his open mouth against her stomach, working his way up until he was nuzzling the under curves of her breasts.

  “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered, moving his mouth over the plump flesh, loving the way she moaned and shuddered as he sucked a nipple into his mouth through the silk. Sucking, biting, lashing her with his tongue as Molly’s fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt.

  He could have feasted on her for hours if she’d let him.

  But Molly had different ideas. She spread his shirt open and he took his mouth off her long enough so he could shrug it off.

  She cupped his face in her hands and leaned down to feed him a hot, tongue-thrusting kiss. One knee came down on the couch cushion next to him and she slid her lips from his, down his neck, his chest, until she was tracing the outline of his ab muscles gone taut with anticipation.

  He held his breath as she slid to her knees, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. His cock was so hard the head was already peeking out of the waistband of his boxer briefs, and Molly wasted no time in tugging it down so she could take him into her hot little hands.

  Gripping him at the base, she slid her hand up, down.

  A bead of pre-come beaded at the tip. The naughty smile she flashed him had him throbbing even harder in her fist.

  That was nothing compared to the need that jolted through him when her tongue flicked out and swirled around the swollen head of his cock, dipping in the crease to lap up the moisture.

  She traced her tongue down his length, then up, teasing, torturous caresses that had his hips involuntarily rocking and surging, trying to get his cock deeper in her mouth.

  And then her plump, pink lips closed over him. The sight of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth was so fucking sexy he dug his fingers into the couch cushions and recited the offensive line for the Seahawks so he wouldn’t blow in her mouth right then and there.

  She sucked him deep, and every sinew in his body went tight with need. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made it worse. Or better. All he knew was that the feel of her hot mouth sucking him, her tongue flicking at the sensitive spot at the base of the head, her fist pumping in a perfect rhythm, all became about a thousand times more intense.

  He wasn’t going to last much longer. “Molly, I’m going to… if you don’t want…”

  Instead of pulling away, she increased her efforts, sucking him deeper, pumping him harder, until he let out a roar, coming hard as she sucked him until the last pulse of his orgasm faded.

  He collapsed back against the couch and gazed at her, barely able to keep his eyes open. One flimsy strap of the slip had slid down her shoulder and one perfect breast threatened to spill out. Her lips were dark pink and swollen and the look in her eyes was equal parts triumph and arousal.

  He reached for her with a lazy grin and pulled her up onto his lap.

  “You’re right. Everything you put in my mouth is delicious.”

  He laughed, cupped his hand around the back of her head, and pulled her down for a kiss. He should have been down for the fucking count, but the taste of her, sweet and salty mingling with the deeper, muskier taste of himself, had his cock twitching back to life, eager for round two.

  “Dirty girl,” he murmured and nipped at her bottom lip.

  “Only with you,” she whispered, and gave him a nip of her own.

  “Well don’t I feel special,” he said and kissed her again.

  “You should,” she said. “I don’t dress up in expensive negligées and go down on just anyone.”

  “And I don’t come so hard I think my brain is going to explode with just anyone, so we’re even.”

  “Another stroke?”

  “Are you kidding? After three weeks with you, it’s a miracle I’m still alive. It’ll be a wonder if I make it through the next five years.”

  She pulled her mouth away, her eyes widening a little. He wondered what her reaction would be if he’d sa
id fifty years, which was what he’d really been thinking.

  “We’ll probably slow down at some point,” she finally whispered.

  “But not for a while,” he said as his hand trailed down her thigh and slid under the hem of her slip. He kissed her, skimmed his hand along the smooth skin of her thigh, up around the equally smooth curve of her ass.

  He lifted her, shifting their position so she was lying back along the couch. The hem of the slip had worked its way higher, now barely covering the triangle of blond curls between her legs. So open, so unselfconscious. So different from the first night they spent together, when she’d worried about being naked in front of him, worried about what he’d think of her body.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  Her swollen lips curved into a smile. “When you say it I actually believe you.”

  He slid his hand up the inside of her knee, urging her legs apart, and wrapped his hand around her slim ankle. He lifted it, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her calf and settled one high heel clad foot on his shoulder.

  She gazed up at him, her blue eyes electric with desire. H could see the slick folds of her sex, flushed dark pink and wet with need.

  Mouthwatering, he lowered his head and kissed her, tenderly at first. Then with firmer strokes of his tongue and sucks of his lips.

  Her legs pressed harder into his shoulders. He could feel the sting of one high heel digging into his skin and felt his cock surge to full hardness.

  “Brady.” His name on her lips sent a sizzle of heat down his spine. “That feels so good,” she moaned as he slid one, then two fingers inside. “You make me feel so good.”

  Her breathy words made him feel like the fucking king of the world. He slid his fingers in, out, attuned to every shift of her body, every breathy moan. Using everything she gave him to send her higher and higher until she came hard against his mouth, her thighs quivering, every muscle shuddering in pleasure.