“So . . .”
Tingles race down my body at the way he’s staring at me.
Because that look in my friend’s eyes? It’s not coming from smack talk.
It’s desire I see.
It’s confirmation that the touches, the moments, the teasing weren’t one-sided.
That whatever’s been brewing between us is a two-way deal.
Want is written on his face, evident in his expression as Ransom cups my cheeks and whispers, “Would you like a thousand-dollar kiss?”
Do I ever.
“Yes.”
He brushes his lips to mine.
My breath hitches, and my world goes whoosh.
7
Ransom
I like bets.
I enjoy wagers.
And I cherish a helluva challenge.
But when I see Teagan walk backstage, I don’t care that much about Martinez’s smackdown.
Sure, an extra grand is nice. I won’t thumb my nose at that. But the money isn’t what motivates me.
It’s the look in Teagan’s blue eyes.
It’s the confidence, mixed with her warmth. It’s the determination, paired with her cleverness. It’s the way she found the loophole during the auction, how she made sure we’d win the top prize.
And most of all, it’s her.
All my reasons not to kiss her slip away from me tonight, and I’m buzzed on this evening.
On the fun we have.
I clasp her face, ask to kiss her, then I move in close.
And I forget.
I forget my lines.
I forget all the people milling around us, filling out forms, writing down details. All the noise and the talking. The clicking of shoes, the sound of voices, the music from the sound system.
All of that falls softly to the ground, then disappears like melting snow.
I dip my mouth to hers, almost touching.
There’s that moment.
The movie moment.
The one right before the kiss. Where the world slows, the camera zooms in, and the audience waits.
Will he?
Won’t he?
And I never thought much about those moments in flicks before. Never bought into them.
Now I get it.
Because I want to memorize every second of Teagan.
I want to remember how this first is going to feel.
To recall the anticipation I feel right now.
The desire coursing through my body.
The sheer intensity of my want for this woman. Right or wrong, lines or no lines, I want to kiss her so damn badly.
I savor this moment, but not as much as I savor the next, when I brush my lips over hers.
My world narrows to their softness, the taste of her gloss, and the feel of her mouth, warm and pliant.
She opens to me immediately, parts her lips. Invites me to kiss her more deeply. Asks with her body for more than a gentle, tender kiss.
Makes it clear she wants the now too.
As I kiss her, my head turns hazy with longing, and my body tries to insist on getting closer to her.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, I don’t entirely forget we’re in public.
I remember.
So I kiss her as chastely as I can, all while wanting to devour her lips. All while wishing I could consume her mouth.
Because she tastes so fucking good.
She tastes like months of pent-up desire, all sexy and snug in a violet dress with a fiery mouth and a helluva mind.
She kisses just like she talks. With spice and wit. With confidence and playfulness. She nips on my lower lip, then dusts her lips over mine before we separate.
I blink. Swallow hard.
She smiles, breathes hard, runs her tongue along her teeth.
And then the moment tips over.
She lifts her hand, runs a finger across my bow tie, and locks her eyes with mine again.
She doesn’t say anything.
But her hand on my tie speaks volumes.
It says, Let’s take this off.
In a low voice only for her, I whisper, “Do you want to get out of here?”
Her answer is immediate. “I do.”
There’s no choice between her place or mine—mine is closer.
Travel time is a potential buzzkill, but there’s no avoiding the lull in the action. Like the seventeen-minute intermission between periods in a hockey game, the break can sometimes be good, and sometimes be bad.
By the time Teagan and I weave through the crowd and make our way out of the Luxe, we’re five minutes post-kiss.
The problem with downtime and sex is that the more seconds that pass between contact, the more chance of someone backing out.
I don’t want to back out, and I hope to hell Teagan doesn’t.
But I know how intermissions work.
During the break from the ice, momentum can change.
It can slip and slide.
I don’t want to lose the momentum.
I want to speed up.
I want to drown myself in Teagan.
As soon as we leave the hotel, I hail a cab, and once we’re inside and I give the cabbie my address, I lean across Teagan, brush away a strand of red hair that fell from her twist, and dust my lips across her cheek.
She shivers, and I confess. There’s no point in pretending.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long,” I tell her as I sweep my lips along her jawline, up her neck to her ear.
She’s silent for a beat, then her soft words come. “You have?”
I breathe out hard, slide a hand across her face, and pull back to meet her gaze.
“Yeah. Sometimes when we’re out, I have to fight not to stare at your lips. I have to try to erase all these wild thoughts of kissing you senseless,” I say as the cab whips through a yellow light at rocket speed, jerking me away from her for a second.
I tip my forehead in the direction of the driver. “I think Captain Speedy is my new best friend.”
She smiles conspiratorially. “Me too. Maybe he can press turbo boost next.”
I dip my head, inching closer, my lips on her cheek again. “Now, where was I?”
“Kissing me senseless?”
I hum against her soft skin, drawing a deep inhale of her strawberry shampoo. “Yes. Fuck yes. I want to get my lips on you, my hands on you.”
“I’m good with both of those,” she says as the driver slams the brakes at the next light, jolting us.
Laughing, I reach for her hand and link my fingers through hers. “But maybe I should behave until we get to my place.”
She squeezes back, and I count off the seconds till the yellow car pulls up to my building on Park Avenue and Thirty-Sixth Street. I hand a twenty to the driver and get the hell out of the vehicle.
Inside, Oscar flashes me a grin. “How was your evening, Mr. North?”
“Fantastic, and I believe it’s about to be even more fantastic,” I say, racewalking past him.
Teagan waves to the guy. “Hope yours is too.”
We practically fly across the lobby, and I stab the elevator button.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I say.
She laughs. “Eager much?”
“Eager a lot,” I answer as the doors open. Then I step inside, crowd her in a corner, and take her lips for Oscar and all of Park Avenue to see as the silver doors slide shut.
“And now I will kiss you senseless.” I do, hard and desperate, and it’s as if the kiss unlocks something inside me.
Yes, I’ve been attracted to Teagan King.
Yes, I’ve fantasized about her.
And yes, I’ve craved her intensely.
But I had no idea that my desire ran this deep, this far. As I kiss her, I swear it’s as if I’m pouring years of longing into this kiss.
Maybe I’ve been waiting for this for some time now.
Perhaps it was inevitable, but I’m finally getting everything I’ve wanted with her.
>
Wanted but denied myself.
Seems she feels the same way.
She responds as if she does. Her hands slink up my chest, slide around my neck, and then she grabs me. Hard.
And holy fuck.
This is awesome.
My God, I love nothing better than a partner who wants it.
A woman who’s into it.
I want the give and the take, the back and the forth.
And I’m getting that with Teagan.
I am getting it good as she takes over, kissing me fiercely, sucking on my tongue and driving me out of my mind with pleasure.
I growl as the elevator slows. “I want you so much.”
Her eyes are wild. “Want you too.”
In seconds, we’re at my door. I unlock it, toss the keys on the entryway table, shed my jacket, and wrap my arms around her, jerking her against me.
I’m hungry for her, ravenous and needy.
But I also have so many things I want to say—things that are rising up inside me. “I kissed you tonight for you. Not for the money. You need to know that. It wasn’t for a grand. It was for me. I fucking want you.”
Her eyes sparkle with desire. “Good. Because I don’t want fake kisses.”
I push against her, letting her feel the full length of my arousal. “This feel fake?” I ask with a crooked grin.
She moans, then her lips curve into a coy smile. “No, but maybe do that again so I can be sure.”
I do as she asks, grinding against her.
She sighs—a sexy, needy sound that floats across the charged air. “I want you too. But what are we doing, Ransom?”
Those words.
Those hard, heavy words.
Heavy enough to bring this night to a screeching halt.
What are we doing?
I’m doing everything I vowed I wouldn’t do.
And yet . . .
“What do you want to do?” I ask, my breath coming fast as I still my hands. “Because I don’t want to keep my hands off of you. But if you want me to stop, say the word and I will.”
“I want all this,” she says, toying with the knot on my tie. “Badly.”
I lean in and steal a kiss. I savor it—the taste of her, the feel of her.
“But?” I ask as I pull back. “Because I hear a ‘but’ in there.”
“But I don’t want this to change anything,” she says, then shrugs. “Which sounds stupid. Or crazy.”
I smile like she’s just handed me the world. “It sounds perfect.” I thread my hands through her hair, letting the soft strands spill over my fingers as I meet her gaze. “Let’s make a deal. Let’s do this, and let’s do it the right way. So it ruins nothing.”
“We can do that,” she says, unknotting my tie, freeing it from the collar. “We can stay friends. We can have one night.”
“We absolutely can,” I groan as she works open the top shirt button, and I slide my hands to the back of her dress. “We can so do this.” I find the zipper and glide it down, tooth by metal tooth.
Each click of the zipper unlocking turns me on.
Each shudder from her arouses me more.
The prospect of having her the way I’ve wanted is driving me wild with lust. “T,” I begin as she undoes another button.
“Yeah?” Her voice is dreamy, feathery.
“If I’d met you at a bar all those months ago, I’d have taken you home that night. I’d have had you naked and under me, naked and over me, naked and any way you want.”
The long, sexy sigh that falls from her lips is so damn enticing.
She glances down at her clothes. “Keep going, Ransom. Because I’d have wanted that too.”
Kicking the moment up ten notches, I move quickly, like this is a play on the ice and I need to get down to the net.
There’s an opening, and I seize it.
I yank the zipper, driven by need, by this intense desire thrumming in my veins.
“I didn’t think you were interested,” she says quickly, feverishly, her fingers undoing my buttons at a frenzied pace.
I scoff. “I was interested from the moment I met you.” I slide the dress off her arms, then lower the material to her waist. Drawing in a deep breath, I drink in the sight of Teagan in a pale pink bra, all lacy and see-through, revealing her nipples. Dear God, those are perfect dusky-rose nipples. “And I am very interested in taking this off you right the fuck now.”
In seconds, I unhook the bra, groaning lasciviously as I free her beautiful breasts.
“The only thing that stopped me was . . .” But I can’t talk anymore, because I need my mouth full of these beauties.
Or really, one of them, because you can’t truly have two boobs in your mouth at once.
Shame, that.
But there’s nothing shameful about this.
I cup her right breast in my hand, cover her left with my mouth, and draw her nipple between my lips, kissing and sucking and licking.
There.
That works for some two-handed breast action.
Her hands move to my hair, threading through the strands. “I was interested too. So much. So damn much. I wanted you all the time.”
Her words torch me. They turn me on more and more. Higher and higher. And I have got to get her naked and get inside her.
I let go of her breasts and do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I met her. I scoop her up in my arms.
She laughs. “I’m half undressed,” she says as I carry her across the living room to my bedroom.
“And that’s a big fucking problem that I’m about to solve,” I say, setting her gently on the bed, sliding off her heels.
“And this is a big problem, Ransom,” she says, flapping her hand in my direction. “You are far too dressed.”
I stand, shuck off my shirt, then undo my pants.
“Hold on,” she says, sticking out a stop-sign hand.
I huff. I do not want to stop. But if I have to, I will. Obviously. “What is it, sunshine?” I ask, that term of endearment falling from my tongue automatically. I didn’t plan to call her that. But it fits her. For all the shit she’s been through, this woman is like the sun. She’s bright and cheery, bold and outgoing, and sexier than anyone I’ve ever met. “You okay?”
“I’m so fucking fine,” she says as she rises and strips off her dress, letting it fall to the floor. “I just want a little entertainment. I’ve only fantasized about getting you naked ten thousand times. Give a girl a show, please. Take your clothes off nice and slow and sexy.”
And I grin like a crazy, turned-on fool.
Because I am definitely a fool to do this.
But I don’t care.
Nothing has felt this good in years.
Everything else has been empty, but being with Teagan is the opposite.
I give her what she wants, taking my sweet-ass time undoing the button on my pants, sliding down the zipper, pushing the fabric over my hips.
“Oh, yeah,” she says, raising both arms, doing her own appreciative dance. “Take it off. Take it all off.”
I do as she says, enjoying it too, laughing as I strip to nothing.
I’m laughing, and I’m about to fuck.
It’s been ages since I’ve felt this turned on and this happy at the same time.
This woman.
She works some kind of magic on me.
Soon, my clothes are on the floor, and I kick them aside then run a hand over the bulge in my boxer briefs, giving her the performance she craves.
She draws a sharp breath, her eyes glassy, shining with desire. Her lips part, and her hands slide up my abs. “Ransom, please fuck me. Please fuck me now.”
And I am five thousand degrees Fahrenheit.
I shed my briefs, my cock saluting her as she reaches for it and strokes me.
Shudders wrack my body from the intensity of her hands on my dick, stroking, savoring, loving it.
I close my eyes, thrusting once, twice into her hand.
I snap my eyes open, stare at her pink panties, and shake my head. “Need these off. Now.”
I climb over her, push her up on my bed, and strip those panties from her. I nearly die from lust. One red landing strip leads to the promised land.
To the glistening, gorgeous promised land of this beautiful, aroused woman. “Mmm. Need to taste you, sunshine. Need to feel you on my tongue.”
With a tremble, she shuffles farther up the bed, lying back on the pillows and letting her legs fall open.
“Please,” she says, whimpering.
Her begging is beautiful, and I can’t take another second of it.
I settle between her thighs, bury my face in her wetness, and kiss her perfect pink pussy. My eyes roll back into my head at that first intoxicating taste. I groan as I lap her up, my own sounds getting louder and louder in tandem with hers.
She lets go, her hands curling around my head, looping through my hair, as she thrusts against my face.
I lick and suck her sweetness, flicking my tongue across her clit as she arches and rocks. She fucks my face right back, seeking her pleasure.
She’s as free in bed as I imagined.
Free and turned on and relishing her lust. It’s thrilling to devour her as she lets go, gives in, cries out.
She holds nothing back.
She gives me her body with everything she has.
Because soon, she’s curling her fingers tight around my head, wrapping her legs around my shoulders, and fucking my face till she cries out, “Oh, God, I’m coming.”
Her taste floods my tongue, and I lap her up, consuming every delicious drop of her orgasm as my dick throbs, so damn eager for attention. When she’s panting and shaking, I wipe a hand across my mouth and climb over her, reaching for a condom. I open it and roll it on as her eyes flicker open.
She looks buzzed and happy, and it’s so damn sexy.
“You’re good at that,” she murmurs, then lets her gaze drift down to my dick.
“You taste spectacular,” I say, moving between her legs, rubbing the head of my cock against all that slippery wetness.
Gasping, she arches up and whispers, “When I’m home alone, playing with my toys, I can come twice.”
And I nearly come right then and there. From that image. That beautiful, filthy image. That gorgeous vision of Teagan knowing her own body so well she can drive herself over the edge more than once.
Thanks For Last Night: A Guys Who Got Away Novel Page 7