B00Z637D2Y (R) (19 page)

“The way you smell like fresh cut flowers and oil paint.”

She pulled back to look at him. “Michael. Are you trying to be romantic?”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes.”

She laughed and relaxed against him again, enjoying the feel of his arms and the smell of starch and cologne. Across the dance floor, Mark and Sue swayed in each other’s arms, and beyond them, Jason and Kelli sat at the bar in what appeared to be an unhappy discussion.

How could she ever have mourned the loss of that relationship? It was hard to tell how unhealthy someone was for you from the inside, she decided. The trick was that once the lesson was learned, to never repeat it. Jason had brought her down for a year, and she’d allowed it. Never again would she let a man make her feel like she was unworthy or that she was an embarrassment.

The song ended and a high-energy pop song started.

“Not my thing,” Michael murmured in her ear.

“Me neither.” She much preferred being wrapped in his arms with his fingers skimming over her spine. She’d actually really like to be doing that with a lot less clothes on, but it was still too early to leave.

When they reached the bar, Kelli joined them. She put on a good face, but Mia knew she was upset. “Would you like a drink, Kelli?” Michael offered.

“No, thanks. Jason has had enough for both of us.”

Mia gave what she hoped was a sympathetic look.

“He can be a real jerk, you know?” Kelli tucked her hair behind her ear like she did when she was uncomfortable. “Of course you know, Mia. You dumped him, and rightfully so. You’re nothing like he described, by the way.”

The room seemed to get too loud and small all of a sudden. “Wait.” Mia shook her head and replayed Kelli’s words. “He told you I dumped him?”

“Yeah. And how you’d gotten him fired and cleaned out his bank accounts before you took off to live in some other man’s home.”

Mouth open, she stared at Michael, who, as expected, appeared completely collected.

“He was fired for lying on his resume,” Mia said. “He was dead broke because he spent faster than he earned, and I moved on to my next housesitting job, not into another man’s home. And he dumped me, not the other way around. He dumped me the same day he… started dating you.”

“I’ve changed my mind, Michael,” Kelli said. “I’ll take you up on that drink. A chardonnay would be great.”

While Michael ordered, Kelli continued. “He was totally freaked out when we met for the first time in a coffee shop. Said he didn’t know what he would do now that you’d left him with nothing. I felt really sorry for him so I had my dad get him a job on the exchange floor.”

“Did he know who your dad was when you met?”

“No, I don’t think so…” She took the glass of wine from Michael, and her jaw snapped shut and she took a deep breath through her nose. “Oh, my God. Yes.”

Michael leaned against the bar, face placid, but his eyes glued on Jason.

Kelli took a deep sip of wine, then shook her head. “He must have guessed because I’d stopped off straight from work with my Keller, Hills, and McAndrews tag still around my neck. He knew I was in trading somehow.” Her attention flew to Jason, who was sitting on a stool alone. “That opportunistic asshole.”

“No wonder he tried to talk me out of being in the wedding.”

“He did?” Sue’s voice directly behind her made Mia jump in surprise.

“He did,” Michael answered. “I was there. He tried very hard to dissuade her. None of it made sense until now. He didn’t want Kelli to find out he was using her for a job.”

“He told me you had decided not to come, Mia, and I was so hurt. I thought you would at least call me if you had changed your mind.”

Mark, who had been behind Sue the whole time, shook his head. “No. He was using Mia’s reputation for being unreliable to cover his running her off. He was burning bridges for her. I should have known.”

“Well, he’s not doing it again. Not to me, anyway,” Sue said. “I know he’s been your friend a long time, honey, but…”

“Nah. He’s changed since college, and he crossed the line this time.” Mark shrugged. “I can only make excuses for him so many times. I’ll handle it.”

“
We’ll
handle it,” Kelli said.

Michael’s warm arms wrapped around Mia from behind and he kissed the top of her head as Mark, Sue, and a very angry Kelli, whose face was as red as her hair, closed in on Jason. By the looks of him, he might not be sober enough to even remember it in the morning.

“Ah, fair Hermia. The course of true love never did run smooth.”

In spite of the tension in the moment, or maybe because of it, she burst out laughing. “Are you for real? You’re going to quote Shakespeare to me in a bar?”

“Is it working?”

She turned in his arms and took his handsome face in her hands. “Yes. It’s working.”

He leaned down and kissed her, tasting of champagne and Michael, and it was all she could do to not start quoting Shakespeare herself.

He pulled back and studied her face. “What are you thinking about?”

“French fries.”

Now it was his turn to laugh. “How hungry are you, Mia?”

“Starving.”

A mischievous grin crept across his face. “But we just ate.”

She loved this teasing side of him. “A huge platter of french fries.” She stepped forward and ran her arms around his waist under his jacket and leaned into him, loving his smell and warmth. Also loving his obvious arousal pressing into her belly as she scraped her nails over the back of his dress shirt beneath the jacket. “Hot, salty french fries, Michael.”

“Now?”

“As soon as possible.”

“No appetizer first?” he said into her hair, hands firm on her waist. “No casual, mood setting ambiance?”

He was driving her crazy. “No. Straight to french fry.”

“Truly fast food, then?”

“Yes.”

“I can accommodate that.”

Chapter Sixteen

It was a struggle to keep pace with Michael’s long, purposeful strides while balancing in high-heeled shoes. His grip on her hand was firm, but not too tight, and his clear urgency was thrilling.

“Wasn’t it rude to leave without even saying goodbye?” Mia asked as they made it to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

“Not at all. I left a note with the bartender to pass to Sue and Mark. I didn’t want to interrupt their chat with your good friend, Jason.”

“He’s no friend of mine.”

“That was sarcasm.” He stopped abruptly and she lost her balance and collided into his chest, hands on his lapels as he wound his arms around her waist. “This is not.”

When his mouth covered hers, it was different than before. Pure, raw desire snaked through her limbs and coalesced between her legs, where the chilly air swirled up her skirt, making her acutely aware of her state of near undress and vulnerability.

He broke the kiss, grabbed her hand again, and immediately struck out across the street toward the bed and breakfast.

“You’re in a big hurry,” she said, stepping up on the curb and making the turn onto the sidewalk to the porch.

“You’ve no idea.” His speed increased to where she was running to keep up by the time they reached the steps. In one motion, he scooped her up into his arms and took the porch steps two at a time and she found herself giggling as much from shock as amusement.

“The key is in my inside jacket pocket on the left side.”

Fingers trembling, she reached in and pulled it out.

“Now the door,” he said, breathing heavily, face unreadable.

She swallowed hard. If he made love with even half of this intensity, it was going to be mind blowing.

“The door please, Mia. Now, before we wake the owner, or the others return.”

She slid the key in and turned it with a click. He pushed the door open with his foot and carried her through the entry hall and eased her down outside the storage closet where their suitcases were kept, taking her hand firmly again, as if he were afraid she’d bolt. But she wouldn’t. She’d wanted this man from the moment they met. No way in hell would she miss out on this. He took the key from her hand and unlocked the closet door, immediately stepping inside and pulling her with him.

When he closed the door, they were plunged into complete darkness. The faint glow coming from under the door did nothing to illuminate the space, only seemed to make the darkness more pronounced.

Heart hammering, she waited for her mind to catch up with her body, which was charging forward at light speed. “The luggage closet?” she asked, voice breathy.

“I’ll never make it up the stairs,” he replied, warm hands traveling up and down her arms. “Consider it part of my therapy to be less rigid and more spontaneous.”

Well, it was certainly spontaneous. His breath heated her neck, and she trembled in anticipation, wondering what he’d do next. This exciting, complex man had her completely off guard. She’d never felt this stimulated or alive.

“There’s a set of shelves to your left and an empty wall behind you,” he said in a low, rumbly voice that made her nipples tighten and ache. “Back up.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order and she loved it.

With a shuddering breath, she shuffled backwards until her shoulder blades contacted a solid surface. Her unfamiliarity with her surroundings, combined with the darkness and his intensity magnified her arousal until she was light-headed and her entire lower body clenched and flooded with heat. He was in complete control of the situation, and it was a wonderful, heady thing to know that all of this powerful man’s focus was on her.

The only sound was their breathing, his as labored as hers. He was still near the door, and the anticipation was killing her.

“Michael,” she said.

“We’re not going to talk. Not this first time.”

He had moved closer while he spoke, and she could feel him standing in front of her, his heat radiating through her dress and into her skin. She shivered, delighted by his power.

Touch deliberate, he slipped his warm hands around her waist, then up her sides to cup her breasts and she moaned.

“No protracted foreplay,” he whispered against her neck as he ran his thumbs over her sensitive nipples, no doubt finding them hard. “Not this time.” His brushed a hand down her body and lifted her skirt, fingers trailing up her thigh and, without prelude, slipping into her wetness, but only briefly, making her ache even worse. “You don’t need it.”

He was right. They’d been dancing around this moment since that first meeting, and she was more than ready, not only in body, but in mind and heart.

Lips still against her neck, he shifted, then pressed something into her hand. “Open, please.”

He took a step away, leaving her cold and needy, and as she fumbled with the condom wrapper, the unmistakable sound of a zipper seemed amplified in the darkness and she shuddered in anticipation.

His hand found hers and relieved her of the half opened wrapper, and after some rustling, and shifting and movement of fabric, she found herself pushed all the way back against the wall, with her skirt rucked up to her waist.

This was it. She’d dreamed of this man since the moment she met him. She was in uncharted territory and way over her head, but this was so right. She needed this. Him. That instant. And he was correct—foreplay and words weren’t necessary. What she needed right then was…

He slipped his hand under one of her knees and hitched her leg around his waist, then guided himself to where he pressed against her entrance, and in one hard thrust, filled her completely.

…that.

Both of them groaned and he buried his face in her neck, not moving for a moment as her body adjusted, stretching to accommodate him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing could feel better than this. She took a shuddering breath and held on for dear life, grateful for the wall behind her and the sturdy shoulders in front.

He pulsed inside her as his body strained for control. He was as affected as she, and it was empowering.

Slowly, he pulled almost all the way out and thrust in again, hard. He had told her not to talk, but it felt so right, she couldn’t help the groan that escaped when he slammed into her. He responded with a growl deep in his chest, and then plunged into her again and again, picking up his pace.
Yes
, she chanted in her head with each harsh thrust, biting her lip to keep from shouting it out loud.
Yes, yes, yes.
This was perfect. He was perfect. She wrapped her other leg around him and locked her ankles together behind his back as he thrust into her over and over, the hard wall pressing against her spine and his hands digging into her backside.

Never had she experienced raw passion like this. All take, and at the same time, all give. His breath came in harsh gasps as he slammed into her, holding nothing back. The always collected Michael Anderson was out of control, and her own body answered with a tightening that simmered and coiled and pulsed until it was almost unbearable, until finally, she broke apart with a scream she couldn’t hold in. His tempo slowed slightly, and then he thrust up hard and stayed there, muscles shaking as he found his own silent release.

They remained wrapped together up against the wall for several minutes while his breathing slowed and her head cleared.

Finally, he spoke, voice raspy. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to ask: did you want catsup with those fries?”

This was the man she knew hid under the surface. A passionate, powerful, witty man who drove her wild. Giggling, she unwound her legs from his waist and he let her slide down the wall until her feet rested solidly on the floor.

“Wow,” she answered, surprised she could speak at all. “That was…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for adequate words, but couldn’t find any.

Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her with such tenderness, it made her chest ache. His lips and tongue were gentle and soothing—in complete opposition to the harsh demands his body had made only minutes ago.

Not wanting to break the spell, she stood in the darkness while he put himself back together, enjoying sounds he made tucking his shirt in and zipping his pants. She would have given anything to see him, still flushed and sweaty and all out of order.