The kid looked at the computer screen. “You reserved one room, king bed, under Leah Porter, with Lance Taylor as a guest.” He motioned to Lance, as if Lance didn’t know who he himself was.
Lance had assumed that Leah’d gotten two rooms. He was learning never to assume when it came to Leah. The woman liked country music, rap, and Broadway musicals. With her playing DJ, they’d listened to Hamilton, then Easy E, and then Sam Hunt. She’d said that he was full of surprises, but really it was her that always did the unexpected.
There was no way that he could share a room with her and not act on the sexual chemistry that had been building up between them like a pressure cooker over the past ten days. Not now, not after what they’d shared in the car. “Can I get another room, please?”
“No,” The kid answered flatly without even checking the computer.
“No?” Lance had to have heard him wrong.
“We’re completely booked.”
Lance looked out at the parking lot. It was nearly empty.
“There’s a car show in town.”
“There has to be something you ca—”
A woman’s scream interrupted Lance’s protest.
The next few moments were a blur of fear and action. He didn’t remember running out to the parking lot or rushing up to Leah. But the next thing he knew he was standing beside her, primed for a fight, but he didn’t see any attacker. Instead she stood next to Thor gagging.
When the rush of adrenaline wore off and his senses joined the party, he choked on the foul odor. For a split second he feared that Thor might need to go to an emergency vet because if he’d produced that stink there was something dying inside of him.
“Skunk!” She pointed to the bushes between gags. “We got skunked.”
Thor sat beside her with a sheepish look on his face. No doubt the skunking had been his fault.
“Come on.” Lance hurried them to the room, pushed the key in the door and gruffly instructed, “Get him in the bathroom. Open the windows. I’ll be right back.”
“Tomato juice!” Leah pleaded. “Get tomato juice,”
Contrary to common belief, tomato juice was not the best way to get rid of skunk smell. All it did was mask it. Since this wasn’t Lance’s first skunk rodeo, he knew better. In the summer when he was a kid, all of his mom’s family would go camping. More than one of his cousins had had an unfortunate run-in with Pepé Le Pew, and his nonna would always remedy it with what he remembered as being household items.
Thankfully, there was a twenty-four hour grocery store just down the street from the hotel. On the quick drive, he called his nonna. It was close to midnight in Florida, but she’d always been a night owl. She picked up on the second ring.
“Lance?” She always answered the phone using his name in the form of a question, as if she didn’t quite trust the fact that his name and face appeared on her screen.
“Hi Nonna, what did you use to get rid of skunk smells when we were kids up at the lake?”
“I think you meant to say, how are you, Nonna? How was your day?”
“Sorry, Nonna. How are you? How was your day?”
“Well Jeanie cheated at Gin Rummy. And they decided to serve chicken instead of lasagna in the commissary. I wouldn’t have minded, because you know that they don’t have a clue how to make sauce, but that meant that they didn’t have my cheesy bread. You know how much I love my cheesy bread.”
Two years ago, his nonna decided to move to a retirement community in Florida. With her husband gone and her kids and grandkids grown, she’d said that she didn’t have anything keeping her in Brooklyn. The cold wreaked havoc on her arthritis and Lance could see that she was lonely.
Lance had relocated to Florida to get her settled in. At first, he’d seen her all the time. But now he was lucky to fit in one meal a week. Her social calendar was busier than his had ever been.
“Oh, and I think that Loretta and Mr. Monday are having a fling.”
“Mr. Monday?” Lance was afraid to ask.
“Betsy Willis and I peeked inside Wendell Marshall’s laundry bag and wouldn’t ya know, right there on the top of the pile was day-of-the-week boxer briefs. A pair of Hanes with ‘Monday’ on his waistband and a smiley face right smack dab on his private parts, can you believe it?” She giggled. “He’s been Mr. Monday ever since.”
As uninterested as he was in Wendell Marshall’s underwear, it was nice to hear his nonna laughing again. One of his biggest regrets about being behind bars was not being there when his nonno died. He hadn’t been there for the funeral. He’d missed it by fourteen months.
He pulled into the parking lot of the all-night grocery store.
“How is Kitty doing?” Nonna changed the subject.
“She’s good. She got released today.”
“Oh, good. Does that mean you’re on your way home?”
“Actually, I’m on my way to California. Remember the dog that I rescued?”
“I’m ninety, not senile. Yes, I remember Casper. He’s a hero! You’re a hero!”
He really wished that people would stop saying that. He might correct some people, but there was no way in hell he’d correct his nonna. “His name is Thor, actually. And his owner lives in Hope Falls so we’re taking him there now.”
“We’re taking him? Who’s we’re?”
He knew damn well that his nonna knew exactly who “we’re” was. “Me and Leah.”
“Lance and Leah, it has a nice ring to it. And from what I saw on that Facebook video, you’d be a damn fool not to put a ring on her. She’s got the boom and the pow, if you know what I mean.”
He did.
“Blessed up top, and with wide hips for birthing. Don’t you want a little Lance or Leah running around?”
His nonna could turn any conversation to him having a baby.
“I’m in the store, Nonna, what do I need to get?”
“You’re no fun. No fun at all.”
“I know, Nonna, and yet, I’m still your favorite.”
Nonna chuckled. Each of her grandkids thought they were her favorite, which meant she was an amazing grandma. “You’re gonna need hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and liquid detergent.”
He quickly gathered the items as Nonna regaled him with the soap opera she was living in, which he liked to call The Old and the Frisky, before abruptly hanging up because she thought she heard Maurine Snider arguing with her son next door and she was going to turn up her hearing aid and listen through the wall.
When he got back to the room, Leah was in the bathroom with Thor sheepishly sitting beside her. She was leaning over the sink splashing water on her face. She stood when she heard him come in and Lance did his best to ignore the fact that she looked like she was in a wet T-shirt contest—which she would win, by the way. Hands down. The thin white cotton of her T-shirt was completely see-through now, showcasing her equally transparent lace white bra.
“Tomato juice.” She squinted as she held out her hands. “Did you get the tomato juice?!”
“No.” His voice was gruff and raspy. “I got something better.”
He lifted the bag he held and Leah’s eyes shot open wide. “Yeah ya did.”
Her odd response caused him to look down, and he saw that when he’d lifted the bag, he’d revealed his body’s reaction to Miss World Wet T-Shirt.
“Sorry.” He lowered the bag again and motioned to her chest. “I didn’t mean to look.”
Leah eyes dropped down to her body and she immediately started cracking up. “That’s a relief. For a second I thought that you might be into some sort of freaky skunk fetish.”
His head fell back and he laughed.
He loved that Leah could find the humor in any situation. She smelled like a sewer but that didn’t stop her from cracking a joke.
He loved that they’d spent twelve hours together in a confined space and hadn’t gotten on each other’s nerves once.
He loved that she sang off-key unapologetically.
He loved that she was so passionate about nursery rhymes.
He loved that she packed treats for Thor so he wouldn’t feel left out when they were snacking, because she claimed snacking was mandatory on road trips.
He loved that she slept on her left side every night and always woke up with a crease on her left cheek that took close to a half hour to go away.
And he loved that he knew all those things about her.
Fuck.
He loved her.
Chapter 19
“I think he’s good,” Lance declared. They’d coated Thor with the hastily-compiled concoction and had moved on to spraying him down with the detachable showerhead.
Leah cut the water and Thor stepped out of the shower area into the middle of the bathroom, then started shaking himself out. Lance grabbed a towel, threw it over him, dropped to his knees and began drying him off.
“Use the mix in your hair and as a body wash and rinse it off,” he instructed as he continued rubbing the towel over Thor’s wet fur. It was a lot of fur, too. The dog was bigger than he seemed when he was curled up and snoring.
Leah stripped and stepped into the shower. She lathered herself with the blend that Lance had said his nonna’d used when he was a kid. She worked it over her bare skin and into her hair, then stepped beneath the showerhead, which Lance had returned to its holder.
Hot water streamed over her, carrying the scent of her lavender body wash, which she’d coated herself with before Lance had returned from the store. There was also a faint undercurrent of hydrogen peroxide, but thankfully, no skunk smell.
She shuddered to think what she’d smell like—not to mention look like—if she’d used tomato juice. She pictured herself resembling Carrie from the horror movie of the same title. Thankfully, Lance had saved the day.
He’d once again been a hero; this time he was her hero.
She turned, letting the water run down her back, and tilted her chin up so that she could rinse out her hair. When she dropped it back down she saw that she’d had an audience. From the look of his pants, a captive audience of one.
Leah hadn’t even given stripping naked and showering a second thought with Lance still being in the bathroom. She hadn’t done it with any sexual intent. For once in her life she hadn’t been playing the seductress.
Her only concern was getting the stench off of her, and she felt so comfortable around Lance, especially after their road trip. Sure, there was still sexual tension—right now there was a lot of it—but there was something more now. There was something deeper between the two of them. She hadn’t thought about ripping his clothes off of him for hours, but she sure was now.
Thor was nowhere to be seen, probably sacked out on the bed from all the excitement. Lance stood completely still, holding the towel in his hand. There was no mistaking his hunger, and it wasn’t just behind his eyes. It was everywhere, vibrating from his every cell like radio waves—and she was the receiver. It went straight into her and filled her up until she was pulsating on the same frequency that he was, completely in sync. There was no need for her to play little seduction games.
Well…except maybe for the fact they were fun. Yeah. She’d reserve the right to play little seduction games for later. But as for right now, all she had to do was smile as the water sprayed over her. Forget twin telepathy, she had Lance telepathy. She knew what his next move would be without him saying a word. He would strip and join her.
Her mind reading was spot on. She watched as he kicked off his boots, peeled off his shirt revealing his powerful frame, unzipped and pushed down his jeans and stepped out of them. She’d been to see Magic Mike Live in Vegas and those guys were hot, really hot, but they had nothing on Lance Taylor.
When he stepped into the shower, completely naked, she felt her eyes widen as a small gasp escaped her. Her shock wasn’t at his magnificent body, although it was stun-worthy. But, she had fantasized about what he would look like with no clothes on since just about the minute she’d met him…and she had a very fertile imagination.
No, her surprise was at the feeling she got from his presence.
How it felt to stand so close to him with nothing separating them, not even clothes. It didn’t feel like anything she’d ever experienced before. It was electric and all consuming. She could feel him all the way from the top of her head, down to the tips of her fingers and the bottoms of her feet.
And they hadn’t even touched yet. Which was something she wanted to rectify immediately.
With one tiny step, she closed the distance between them and ran her hands up his chest and down his abs, stopping just above his happy trail, which led to his impressive erection, jutting out proudly from his body.
She could’ve played the exploration game for a lot longer. She would’ve happily touched every inch of his body, letting her fingers roam over the strong planes of his shoulders, over his rippling abs, skimming the cords of his muscular arms. But Lance seemed to have other plans.
Without any warning he crushed his mouth to hers, thrusting his tongue into her with a level of confidence and passion that gave her a pretty decent preview of what it was going to feel like when he was inside of her. She moaned against his mouth at the thought of it as a series of X-rated pictures went reeling through her head, all of him thrusting in and out of her with the same authority and command as his kiss.
That kiss, combined with his feather-light touch, continued to assault her senses. She grew dizzy with sensation as he slid his hands up and down her body. She barely felt the touch as it skated across her slippery, water-slicked skin.
They stood beneath the water and the steam from the shower enveloped them, cocooning them in an intimacy bubble. It was almost as if she couldn’t feel the difference between them, the place where the heat of the air stopped and the heat that their bodies generated began.
When she reached between them and gripped his pulsating, heavy cock, a sound escaped from him that ricocheted through her body. It was a visceral, primal sound and he made it while his mouth was still entwined with hers, completely. She felt the vibrations of it go from his chest to hers, from his lips to hers, from his tongue to hers. And in many ways it was the most erotic moment she’d ever known.
He pulled back and looked her straight in the eyes, heat pulsing so hard in his that it made her weak in the knees.
He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing the strands that had been sticking to her forehead and cheek. “Fuck, I’ve wanted you since the first second I met you,” he rasped, and she returned the sentiment with a coy smile.
“Obviously,” she said.
He threw his head back and laughed, and she felt the rumble go through the tip of her nipples. It sent a shiver of pleasure straight between her legs.
“Was it that easy to tell?” he chuckled.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, running the tips of her fingernails down his back. “You didn’t say much, but your eyes did the talking.”
“What were they saying?”
“Well they didn’t use words, so much. They were too busy undressing me.”
He laughed again, the sound so low she had to strain to pick it up over the water hitting the tile and fiberglass all around them.
“I was doing a lot more than undressing you with those eyes,” he shot back.
She stood on tiptoe and took his bottom lip between her teeth, pulled back slowly. “Why don’t you show me?”
He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he just went about doing exactly that.
Leaning his head down, he kissed his way down her neck, stopping periodically to lick a stray drop of water off of her skin. His tongue and lips felt amazing moving down her body. They sent her head spinning, and between that sensation and the heat of the air swirling around them in the shower, it was tough to keep herself from completely surrendering to lightheadedness—in fact, it was difficult to keep herself committed even to fighting it.
When his mouth finally closed over her nipple, it wa
s all she could do to stay upright, so she buried her hands in his hair and fisted her fingers together to hang on. She pressed forward on the back of his head, driving his mouth closer to her, and her nipples deeper into those hot, wet recesses.
He moved his head back and forth from one breast to the other, giving them equal time and attention. It was like he was a mind reader—as soon as her pleasure peaked then started to plateau on one side, he would move to the other, and then repeat the process when it happened there.
As he continued his sensual attention, a realization struck her that he didn’t even have to be skilled at reading her mind. All he had to do was read her body, and that was something that he was clearly very good at.
She let her head fall back into the hot spray, luxuriating in the powerful needles of water that the jet showerhead spit out. It served to increase the feeling that she was being touched absolutely everywhere, and that was a sensation that she definitely wanted to keep going as long as possible.
In fact, damn…if she had her way, she would love to keep this entire encounter going pretty much forever. Who the hell needed stupid-ass things like food and sleep when they had something as awesome as Lance’s touch in their life?
Not her!
Her heartbeat synced to his touch as she melted into his hands and his tongue, pressing as close to him as she could possibly manage. She was filled with the desire to get as close to him as she could. It was like a compulsion, and one she saw absolutely no reason to fight.
She pressed her body against him, and used her hands to press him closer to her, as well. There was a deep well of hunger inside her that was hard to fill. She tried again and again, but simply never felt that she was close enough.
He raised his head again and kissed her. It was slower this time, less raw and desperate, but somehow even deeper and more passionate than his earlier kisses had been. She could tell, because she felt the tingling effects of them even deeper in her belly.
“I want you,” she breathed. “I need you.”
He breathed in sharply at those words and she didn’t think it was because they were shocking. No, she grinned to herself, it was because I’m managing to turn him on every bit as much as he’s turning me on right now.
Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 17