Chapter 8
Emma closed her eyes and let the rhythm move her feet. Dancing was so much fun. Why had it been so long since the last time she went out like this? The whiskey had given her just enough of a buzz to help her shed her inhibitions and let loose.
The beat changed, and she recognized a popular dance song from the radio.
“I love this song,” Gabby said.
Emma opened her eyes to see her friend dancing happily with Ethan, their bodies bumping into each other in the casual way of people who were already intimate on every level. Ethan seemed at home on the dance floor, busting a move as Gabby laughed with delight.
Emma spun toward Ryan, also moving easily to the beat although less enthusiastically than the more outrageous Ethan. Ryan wore his trademark black T-shirt and dark-washed jeans, and he looked so damned sexy she wanted to scream—because it simply wasn’t fair for him to look so good. Not when she was trying her hardest to get over him and move on.
She moved closer, and his hands settled on her hips.
“Trent looks great up there,” she said, glancing up at the teen in the DJ booth. Trent’s head bounced to the music as he worked the equipment.
“What?” Ryan dipped his head closer to hers.
She leaned forward. “I said, Trent looks great up there.”
“Yeah, he does.”
Somehow she’d rested her hand on his chest when she leaned in, and now her face was way too close to his for any reason that didn’t involve kissing. She glanced up into his mocha eyes, glittering now with the multicolored lights pulsing around them. Oomph. Desire shot through her, hot and bright, settling into a restless ache inside her that throbbed like the music around them.
“I need a drink,” Ryan said. “You?”
No, actually she’d rather tell him off for ruining the moment, but… “Okay.”
Reluctantly, she followed him to the bar. They ordered beers and sat side by side on two barstools, watching the crowd on the dance floor. It had grown since they arrived. The place was hardly packed, but it seemed like a decent crowd for a Tuesday night.
Ryan took a drink from his beer then leaned in so that she could hear him over the music. “So how was your date?”
“You really want to know?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
He grimaced. “No, but I’m trying here.”
She grinned, unable to help herself. “Well, since you asked, it was lovely. Cal’s a great guy.”
Ryan took a long drink from his beer. “So what happened to Todd?”
“Who?” she blurted, a moment before she remembered the motorcycle-riding, drunk and disorderly dude she’d supposedly planned to go out with. “Oh, right. He was okay, a little dull for my taste.”
Ryan gave her a skeptical look. “So dull you forgot his name?”
She shrugged, taking a drink from her own beer. “I’ve been on so many dates in the last week, it’s hard to keep track.”
Ryan’s fingers clenched around the pilsner glass in his hand. “That so?”
“So many bad boys to choose from,” she said, sliding a look in his direction to gauge his reaction. She was so toying with him right now. She’d messaged with a couple of guys through the dating site’s online system, but she’d only been on the one date. None of the guys she’d met so far on Tinder were half as sexy or interesting or…badass as Ryan.
The look on his face said he might just sucker punch any guy he caught so much as looking in her direction. “Bad in what way?”
“Oh, you know…” She leaned in closer. “Rough around the edges, especially in the bedroom.”
Ryan sucked in a breath, his expression gradually softening from deadly to wary. “You’re messing with me now, right? Please tell me you’re messing with me.”
She grinned. “I’m messing with you.”
He exhaled, casting his eyes toward the ceiling as he shook his head. “I have no idea what to do with you, Emma Rush.”
“That makes two of us.” She spun her barstool toward him, and her thigh brushed his. “If you want the truth, Cal is a great guy, but he said he won’t take me out again until I’ve resolved things with you.”
Ryan froze with his beer halfway to his mouth. He set it back on the counter with a heavy clunk and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Fuck.”
“Pretty much my thoughts exactly.”
He looked at her then, his expression heavy with regret. “I have no idea how we got here.”
“Me either,” she said, deciding to play it casual. “But I’m going to keep dating. This year is all about experimenting and trying new things for me. I want to have fun.”
“I’d say you’re doing it,” he said, polishing off his beer.
“I’m off to a decent start anyway.” She chugged the rest of her own beer and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s get back out there before Trent’s hour is up.”
She led the way to the dance floor, where she found Gabby and Ethan still dancing not far from where she’d left them. She fell back into the groove, moving to the beat.
Gabby grabbed her hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Where did you and Ryan go?”
“To the bar.”
“Oh.” Her friend looked disappointed. “I was hoping you guys were off making out somewhere or something.”
I wish. “Nope, not happening.”
“Hey, any word from the University of Georgia yet?” Gabby asked.
Emma shook her head. “I think it’s still early, but I’ve been refreshing my email like crazy.” Now that she’d finally taken the plunge and applied, she could hardly wait to find out for sure. She got all jittery with excitement every time she received an email.
“Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you.”
“Thanks,” Emma said.
She and Gabby danced together until Trent came back down from the DJ booth. They all lavished him with praise, and Emma noted with a smile that Ryan looked particularly proud. The teen blushed and got adorably awkward while they congratulated him, but he was puffed up like a peacock by the time he made it over to his group of friends still dancing in back.
Not long after, Gabby and Ethan said their good-byes. Emma was too buzzed to drive herself home right now, and besides, she was having fun, so she kept dancing. Ryan stayed, too, probably more out of protectiveness than a desire to keep dancing.
“This isn’t going to be like the night you hung out at the bar until closing, is it?” he asked, leaning in.
She shook her head. “I don’t think it would be wise to get on your bike in this dress.”
His gaze dropped to her skirt, and his eyes darkened. “Definitely not advisable.”
“Besides, I drove myself tonight. I just need to dance off that last beer.”
Somehow his hands were on her hips again, and she was about to lose her mind from that simple contact. She kept moving to the beat, resting her hands on his shoulders as they danced. Had the music gotten louder, or was it just her pulse pounding in her ears?
All around them college-age kids were bumping and grinding. Couples were making out. The lights had gotten dimmer, and the music was definitely louder now that the time had ticked past eleven o’clock. She twirled in Ryan’s arms, and their hips bumped. His fingers bunched in the fabric of her skirt, hauling her up against him. She let out a startled gasp, looking up just in time to see his lips slam into hers.
Oh. She closed her eyes, her lips parting beneath his. Ryan’s kiss was hot and explosive and electrifying. His tongue thrust against hers, drawing a needy whimper from her throat. They were still swaying to the beat of the music, his hands fisted in her skirt. The lights above the dance floor dazzled her eyes when she peeked up at him, blurring her vision.
Each stroke of his tongue lit flames inside her, blazing straight to the fire burning low in her belly, an aching need that grew until it threatened to burn her up. Holy shit. Ryan’s kiss was like him: big and powerful and just a little bit rough.
And she never wanted it to end.
Someone jostled her from behind, and she stumbled against Ryan’s chest. She slid her arms around his neck, anchoring herself more securely against him. Someone else slammed into them, knocking them sideways.
Ryan tore his mouth from hers, and she grumbled in protest. He gripped her hand in his and tugged her after him. She followed him off the dance floor and down a hall in back, even more dimly lit and still pulsing with music. There he pressed her against the wall, lowered his head to hers, and kissed her again, hard.
She slid her arms around his back, drawing him in closer, his big, hard body pressed against hers. His tongue was doing all kinds of magic things that heated her up until she felt like she might melt on the floor in a big puddle of need if he let her go.
Ryan. She slid her hands down his arms, greedy with the freedom to finally touch him, to run her fingers over his tattoos. His skin was surprisingly soft beneath her fingers. He let out a low growl, nipping at her bottom lip while his hands did some wandering of their own. Next thing she knew, his fingers were skimming up the backs of her thighs, palming her ass, pressing her more firmly against him.
“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” he whispered against her lips, his words sending a thrill through her.
“Good,” she gasped. Because she’d never been this crazy for anyone, ever. No one but Ryan had ever made her feel anything this powerful, this all-consuming, like she just might combust if he didn’t kiss her again.
“Promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he said as he brought his lips back to hers.
“I won’t tell,” she whispered as he kissed her. They kissed until she was seeing stars and his chest heaved against hers. The rhythmic boom of the bass from the dance floor seemed to echo the frantic pounding of her heart.
“I see fucking red just thinking about another guy touching you.” In the dim light of the hall, his eyes glittered, deep and dark as the night sky.
“I don’t want anyone to touch me but you.”
He crushed his mouth against hers. “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get you out of my head.”
“Same.” She went up on her tiptoes, bringing their bodies into alignment. They kissed again, raw and greedy and desperate.
“I can’t stop needing you, needing this.” He clutched her closer against him, a note of desperation in his voice.
“I don’t want you to. Please, Ryan, stop holding back.”
Her words seemed to unleash something inside him. His muscles bunched like a tiger about to pounce, his fingers gripping tighter on her ass. “So just how bad do you want to be?”
She felt his hard length straining the front of his jeans, and oh my God this was really happening. “So bad,” she whispered.
His hand slid around to cup her over her panties, and she let out a squeak of pleasure. He stroked her through the thin cotton, and she moaned into his mouth.
“Here’s your first lesson.” His gruff words were a whispered promise as his fingers slipped inside her panties. Her body was already on fire from his touch, from his kisses, from the rhythm of the music that seemed to be driving them closer and closer to the edge.
She whimpered, clinging to him as his fingers stroked her toward oblivion.
“Forget those guys on Tinder,” he growled into her ear.
“Done.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper as desire coiled hot and tight inside her. She’d never wanted those guys anyway. She’d only ever wanted Ryan.
Ryan.
“Come for me, Emma.” His thumb scraped across her center and sent her flying.
She buried her face on his shoulder as the orgasm ripped through her, knocking her senseless. When she’d finally come back to herself, she lifted her head. “Whoa.”
Ryan’s eyes blazed into hers, hot and fierce. “You were right. Bad looks good on you.”
Ryan smoothedEmma’s skirt down and took a step back. She looked all flushed and rumpled, still glowing with pleasure, and he wanted her so bad it hurt. His dick was screaming to get inside her, which wasn’t going to happen—not tonight anyway—but one thing was for damn sure: there was no more pretending this thing between them wasn’t happening.
It was fucking happening.
Emma was his, and he was hers, and there was no way either of them could keep on pretending otherwise. Not after tonight.
She glanced around as if just becoming aware of their surroundings, the dim hallway leading back to the pool tables—which were closed during the week—where he’d just gotten her off right here in public. And it had been hot as hell.
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at him, her eyes still glossy and dazed. “That was…bad in the very best way.”
Hell yeah, it was. “Let’s be clear. You and me? Still a bad idea. But if bad’s what you’re looking for…”
“It is,” she said quickly. “I want you, Ryan.”
He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Emma. “Right now, it’s time for us to go home…separately. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.” When his dick wasn’t hard as granite, and he had enough blood left in his brain to think this through properly.
“Oh.” She looked disappointed.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He drew her up against him for one last kiss, and she melted in his arms all over again.
Dammit. He might not ever get his head back on straight where Emma was concerned.
He took her hand in his and led her back through the bar area to the dance floor. They paused to say good-bye to Trent—still dancing energetically with his friends—then walked outside into the cool night. Emma hadn’t brought a jacket so she hustled him toward her silver RAV4. When they got there, she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.
“Thank you, for tonight,” she whispered. “It was…amazing.”
He nodded. “Drive safe.”
He watched as she got into her car, started it, and drove away. The night around him seemed to echo with silence after the blasting noise of the club. He walked slowly toward his bike, parked around the side of the building.
Brussel sprouts. Sauerkraut. Blue cheese. Green tomatoes.
He ran through all the nasty foods he could think of as he stood beside the Harley, waiting for the pressure in his dick to ease enough that he could climb on without causing himself serious pain. He eased himself gingerly onto the seat and cranked the engine.
He went straight home, but it was still a hell of an uncomfortable ride. He didn’t let himself think of Emma again until he was safely inside his condo.
Emma.
He was still hard, still aching for her. The truth was, he hadn’t been with a woman in at least six months now. Had he been lusting after Emma for that long? She was the only woman he could conjure up in his fantasies, the only woman who made him hard.
And he’d punished himself long enough, denying his fantasies of her. In fact, maybe his sexual frustration was part of the reason he’d let himself go tonight.
Well, there was at least one problem he could fix. He headed for the shower, desperate for relief, the memory of Emma’s pleasure still buzzing in his blood. In this case, the reality had definitely been better than the fantasy. Now that he knew what she sounded like when she came? The beautiful glow on her skin after he’d sent her flying? He’d never fucking forget it.
He cranked the shower up nice and hot then shucked his clothes. His dick stood urgently at attention, refusing to be ignored. Cursing under his breath, he stepped beneath the shower’s steamy spray.
Emma…
He remembered the soft sounds she’d made as he touched her, how hot and wet she’d been when he slid his hand inside her panties… His dick surged, throbbing in time with the wild pounding of his heart. He reached for the bar of soap and slicked his palm then gripped himself. As he tightened his fist, he imagined Emma there with him in the shower, urging him on.
“You’re so hard, Ryan. I’m getting so wet just watching you.”In his filthy mind, that’s what she’d say. He pumped his fist up and down his shaft, tugging harder as the aching need grew more intense. He could almost feel the heat of her stare, and the fantasy of her watching made his dick harder still. He closed his eyes and braced his free hand against the wall, his head bent, the shower beating down over his shoulders.
“Come for me, Ryan,”Imaginary Emma whispered in his ear.
His balls drew up tight against his body, and he tensed, then release pulsed through him, hot and fierce. He stood there, head bowed, gasping for breath for several long seconds. But even now, his yearning for Emma never lessened. If anything, it grew stronger. And the next time he came, he wanted to be inside her.