Callie’s cheeks are an amazing shade of pink. Like the petals of a dusty rose. God, who talks like that? Since when do I wax poetic?
Again I remember the red-gold poppy I saw once at a benefit in Denver. So close to the color of her eyes.
She says nothing.
“The night after, then?” I prod.
That gorgeous blush? It’s extending down her neck to the tops of her breasts, which are visible due to the V-neck T-shirt she’s wearing. It’s black, with an imprint of a dragon and Jesse’s band’s name, Dragonlock, embroidered in bright red.
She takes a sip of Diet Coke, trying to pull off coy, but her blush gives her away. “Sure. That’d be fun.”
“Awesome. It’s a date, then.” I polish off the rest of my soda. “You want another?”
“No. I’m good. Thanks.”
I pull my wallet out of my pocket and leave a few tens on the table for Laney. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
She stands, and I get a great look at her body. The T-shirt is formfitting, and her skinny jeans adhere to that marvelous ass. She may not have the breast size of her sisters, but that ass… She’s got them both beat on the posterior. I’d like to slide my tongue between those cheeks and give her the rimming of a lifetime.
I drop my gaze lower. She’s tall and lean-legged, and I imagine those shapely gams wrapped around my neck as I pound into her.
Fuck. My groin tightens.
She walks toward the exit, and I follow. I feel like a high school kid about to make out with my girlfriend in the car. Crazy shit.
I’m definitely getting the vibe from her. She may talk a good game, but I’ve seen her body react. That blush… Those swollen breasts… She’s turned on.
And so am I.
I follow her out the door of the bar, and my other head takes over.
In an instant, I push her back against the brick of the building, and I crush my lips to hers.
She gasps softly and then parts her lips, letting me in.
She tastes sweet—a mixture of hops and diet soda—and I sweep into her mouth, finding her tongue and tangling it with my own.
Callie Pike knows how to kiss, and it’s refreshing. So many women are passive kissers, but not this one. She invades my mouth as I invade hers. I go deeper, and she goes deeper, until our tongues are engaged in a duel for control.
Fuck, she’s hot.
My cock is already hard, and I push it against her belly. A groan vibrates from her throat and through my clothes, taking over my body. Just one little groan from her, and I’m on fire.
I’m ready. I could fuck her right now up against the outside wall of Murphy’s Bar.
Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had sex in a public place.
But Callie Pike deserves better.
I brace myself to break the kiss, when she grabs my ass and pulls me closer into her.
That being a gentleman thing? The idea that she deserves better? Just flew straight out the window.
The Snow Creek Inn is a block around the corner.
If I can just disengage my mouth long enough to get there.
But this kiss… This amazing, soul-crushing kiss…
I love kissing. I do. But it’s never been more than a prelude to better things. This kiss, though?
I’m so hard I’m ready to burst. From a kiss.
Now that would make sense if I were sixteen. At thirty-two, it’s a different story.
Except right now it’s not.
The high school isn’t far from here. Man, I feel like a horny kid ready to take his girlfriend under the bleachers.
Can’t do it. Can’t…
But my thoughts are jumbled. I tell my mouth to stop kissing her, but it doesn’t want to listen.
Hell, I don’t want to listen. I could kiss Callie Pike all night and still want more of her full, sweet lips, her silky tongue, her perfect flavor.
I deepen the kiss, exploring every millimeter of her sweet mouth, and—
She pushes at my chest, breaking the kiss with a loud pop of suction.
“My God.” She gasps, her breath coming in rapid puffs.
“You said it,” I say, rearranging things inside my jeans.
Callie’s mouth hangs open, her breathing still rapid. Her nipples—oh, God, her nipples. They’re poking through that black T-shirt like hard little knobs. I itch to reach toward her, cup one of those perfect tits, give that nipple a pinch.
“I can’t…” She shakes her head, squirming.
I inhale. Yeah. The scent. The scent of a woman’s sex.
Fucking intoxicating.
She’s wet, and I want to slip my tongue between her legs and have a feast.
“You want to go somewhere?” I ask.
No response. She’s still panting. “That kiss…”
“Was pretty fucking spectacular,” I finish for her.
“I’ll say…”
“So…you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
Good sign. She’s in a buzz of hormones, not thinking clearly.
“Do you want to go somewhere?”
She blinks a few times, clearly trying to regain her rational thought. That’s okay. It’s rational for her to want to go to bed with me. Right?
Her breathing slows, and she exhales a long breath. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. You’re beautiful, Callie.”
“So are you.”
I smile. She’s not the first woman to use that word to describe me, but she’s the first who made it sound desirable.
So are you. Those three words, in her sultry voice, mean everything to me in this moment.
I won’t press her on the going somewhere issue. I’ve asked twice, and I won’t ask again.
I buss her quickly on the cheek. “Where’s your car?”
“About a block over.” She pauses a moment. “By the hotel.”
Oh my God…
I grab her hand—it’s small and warm in mine—and we walk toward the hotel.
The hotel.
The Snow Creek Inn.
The neon sign looms in the distance, seeming to pulse with each rapid beat of my heart.
Va-cancy. Va-cancy. Va-cancy.
Dare I ask one more time?
But she heads straight to her Chevy sedan and clicks her fob, unlocking the doors. “Your chariot awaits, my lord.”
I chuckle. “Are we being British now?”
“It’s always a good time to be British,” she replies in a perfect royal accent.
I slide into the passenger seat, all smiles. So much I don’t know about Caroline Pike, but what I do know, I like.
I like it a lot.
Maybe getting her into bed right away isn’t the way to tackle the lovely Caroline.
Maybe I should take it slow with her.
And maybe I’m sounding nothing like myself by having these thoughts.
She starts the engine and pulls out of her spot.
I rearrange the bulge in my pants discreetly.
Fuck, this is going to be a long night.