Читать книгу Wound Up - Kelli Ireland - Страница 10

2

JUSTIN HADN’T TAKEN his rip-away tuxedo pants off yet. He should have. The routine called for it. But he couldn’t. Not until he got his cock under control. The minute he laid his lips to the small of Grace’s back, that traitor had stopped listening to his demand to stand down. Primal hunger had roared through him at the slight taste of salt on her skin. Then the faint musk of her arousal had punched his lust up to uncontrollable levels. Never had he responded to a woman this way. Something about her made him lose control, and, as usual, that both fascinated and irritated him. He was famed for his control.

Seating her in the chair, he went to his knees in front of her, legs spread wide. He leaned back on one hand and pumped his hips toward her. Sure, his arousal was apparent—she might as well know up front. Keeping things the way they’d always been was no longer an option. Now that she’d seen him here, had discovered that he danced, the knowledge couldn’t be taken back. He was going to run with it as far and fast as he could go before she called stop. For the first time since he’d started dancing, he wanted the patron, this patron, to see him as available.

Her eyes locked on his groin. Then they dragged their way up his body to meet his.

The sheer hunger that smoldered in their depths stole his breath.

“Touch me.” The words were out of his mouth without a thought.

“Beg.”

His balls tightened at the command. So she was listening to the song, was she?

He grinned, putting every ounce of predatory sensuality into it he could muster as he rose to his knees and got in her face. “You’ll regret that.”

“Make me.”

“Done.” Raw, sexual hunger surfed the arousal flooding his veins. Wave after wave of desire pulsed through him. Crawling around her, he prowled up her body slowly, bent to her ear and breathed, “Please.”

A hard shiver worked through her.

Justin pulled her into his arms and switched places with her, settling her across his lap. Hips thrusting, he pantomimed raw sex as his hands ran down her hips. The heat of her sex bled through his thin pants and he wanted nothing more than to touch her there, to find out if she was as wet as he wanted her to be. His hands shook. “Please,” he said, louder this time.

Smooth hands ran over his chest.

He lifted his chin and watched her. The way her eyes locked on his torso, the way her fingertips traced every contour of his body—it fueled his need for her. Wrapping his arms around her ass, he surged to his feet.

Her eyes widened, locking on his.

Moving his face toward hers was natural. He leaned in until their lips almost touched. “Please.” The whispered plea made their lips touch for a split second, but it was enough. She tasted like fresh lime, tart and sweet. Such a heady mix.

She gasped as he spun and set her in the chair again. Moving away, he toed his shoes off one at a time, kicking them clear and, with his back to the crowd, ripped his pants off.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip even as her nostrils flared. The message was clear. She wanted him.

So he danced for her.

Facing Grace, he went to his knees and ran his hands over his body. He rolled a finger out and curled it in a “come here” motion.

She stood and walked toward him with exaggerated steps, her movements in perfect sync with the music. The way she moved, all sultry confidence, made his blood boil. When she reached him, he settled on his heels and pulled her forward to straddle him. He thrust upward, sliding his free hand up her front. Then he slid through her legs, jumped up and moved in behind her. Gripping her hips, he bent her forward some and folded his body over hers, settling his erection in the crevice of her ass.

She shivered.

Or it might have been him.

The music ended and the lights went out.

He grabbed her hand and headed for the wings. She kept up, never balking, and he was relieved. Hunger burned low in his gut. He wanted her so badly he was terrified he might actually throw her over his shoulder and run away with her. To where, he had no idea. Probably the first hotel he came across.

The Spartan decor of the back of the stage was at total odds with the plush interior out front. They nearly ran down a long corridor, his hand clinging to hers. Several performers called out greetings as they passed.

He ignored them.

Without warning, he slid to a stop and pulled her into a corner.

Grace crashed into him.

Justin spun, grabbed her and pressed her up against the wall. “I need you.”

Wide, green eyes stared up at him, her pupils blown with desire. “Feeling’s mutual.”

Twining their fingers together, he dragged her hands over her head. She arched into him, and he groaned. His lips met hers in a desperate duel for dominance. Her mouth offered endless pleasure while her body smelled like sin. She rubbed against him, hooking one leg around his as he wedged a thigh between hers. Her soft mewl was nearly his undoing.

He craved her so badly and felt slightly guilty for dragging her back here without even talking to her first. If someone had treated either of his little sisters this way? Hell, he’d kill them. The shock of his behavior washed over him as effectively as a bucket of ice water. This was no way to treat a woman he liked and respected, a woman he’d wanted to ask out for three years. Jerking back, he stared down at her, panting. “I’m sorry.”

“No talking.” She leaned up and reclaimed his mouth, nipping his bottom lip before soothing the sting with the tip of her tongue. “Not yet.”

He pulled away. “I don’t do this. Ever.”

She sighed, and relaxed against the wall. “Believe it or not, neither do I.”

Dropping his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes. “Want to get out of here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes.”

She kissed him quickly. “Make it eight.” Then she pulled her hands free and slipped under his arm, heading back the way they’d come, hips swaying hypnotically.

“Door to the club’s on the right,” he called.

She raised a hand in acknowledgment but never slowed down.

With a huff, he pushed off the wall and jogged toward the locker room.

He figured he had six minutes to come up with a decent plan that ended with her naked in his arms.

He’d borrow Levi’s car, though it rankled that he didn’t have his own. They could go to a late dinner. Maybe add something fun in there. Or a trip to his favorite dessert place for something sweet. The little restaurant he had in mind wasn’t fancy but it was intimate. They could talk. He could show her he was better than the sum of his behavior so far tonight.

A dark smile spread across his face as he headed for his locker.

Maybe he’d go straight for the kill shot and try to talk her into breakfast...tomorrow morning.

* * *

GRACE SLIPPED TO her table where her girlfriends were chattering like songbirds.

Meg reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “Holy crap, girl! You’re the luckiest woman I know.”

“Yeah?” She grabbed her purse. “I’m about to get luckier.”

“Shut up.” Lynn, a close friend, leaned across the table. “You aren’t going out with him.”

“Nope.” She grinned and let the wickedness of her thoughts show. “I have the distinct impression we’ll be spending the evening in.”

Meg whooped and Lynn laughed. Gretchen, the most levelheaded of the group, sipped her drink and watched Grace over the rim of her glass. “You think this is a good idea? You don’t know him.”

“I actually sort of do.” They clamored for more information, but she waved them off. “We met in the psychology department. No, I had no idea he danced here. Yes, he’s a fantastic kisser. No, you won’t get more details than that, so don’t ask.” She looked at Gretchen. “Just this once, I want to live a little.”

Gretchen nodded. “I get that. I do.” She took another sip, her brow furrowing as Grace watched. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you could do worse than living it up with a stripper.”

The muscles in Grace’s neck tightened and made her nod sharp. “Right.”

All three women were silent at her words. That they felt sorry for her chafed. Her chin went up. “I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

Gretchen lifted her glass, the casual gesture at direct odds with the concern reflected in her eyes. “Promise you’ll be careful. Oh, and take my smartphone. Your by-the-minute phone is great if you have time to call for help, but in the event he’s an ax murderer? It’s useless. I’ll turn on the ‘find me’ feature so I can recover your body if necessary.”

Grace accepted the phone as she stood. “I have no idea where we’ll go, but I’m guessing his place. If the phone takes off at a high rate of speed in the next couple of hours? Come after me.” She glanced at her watch. “Gotta go.”

She tried to keep her pace casual and controlled as she headed for the front door. In truth, though, she wanted to run. Despite her best efforts, her strides lengthened until she was charging through the club. Several women commented on her passing. Most of the words were benign if a little jealous, but some were downright mean. Grace didn’t slow down. She wasn’t going to allow herself to apologize for wanting sex, for enjoying it and for taking advantage of the moment. Had she been a man, she’d have been admired for the conquest. As a woman, she wasn’t about to apologize for the same. Justin would be her conquest as much as she’d be his.

Cool air heavy with mist washed over her as she pushed through the club’s front doors. She stopped and slowly turned.

Staring at the ground in front of him, Justin came around the corner of the building wearing a knee-length trench over jeans and a white T-shirt. His chin came up, and his eyes narrowed.

She started for him without thinking.

They came together on the sidewalk, her arms going around his neck at the same time he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was swift but sure.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi, yourself.”

He searched her face.

Her brows drew together. “Problem?”

“No. Just...” He shrugged.

Unease curled through her belly. She stepped a pace away.

Justin caught her hand. “I feel bad for nearly accosting you.” He raked his fingers through his hair and stared over her shoulder, refusing to meet her gaze. “I want you to know I’m a better man than that.”

“Hey.” She tipped her head to the side and grabbed his attention. “I’m perfectly capable of saying no.”

“Yeah, but—”

Laying her fingers across his lips, she shook her head. “No.”

“What I meant was—”

“No.” She pulled her hand away. “See? I told you I’m good at saying it.”

He arched a brow and his lips twitched.

“I mean it, Justin. Short of a brief but intimate introduction to my tonsils and your insider knowledge of my grades in Psych 410, 510 and 525, we’re strangers. You’ll have to trust I know myself well enough to ask for what I need.” Closing the distance between them, she placed one hand over his heart and ran the other around his neck. With soft pressure, she pulled him close. “And what I want is you.” She laid her lips over his in a tender kiss.

He responded with unerring skill, moving over her lips to her jaw and laying small kisses all the way to her ear. “Might I interest you in grabbing some dinner?”

Her heart lodged in her throat at the question. The most she could manage was a small shake of her head. The hitch in his breath made her curl her fingers into the short wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ve already eaten.”

“I’m starving.”

Desire wove through those two simple words, and she understood it wasn’t just food he craved. She leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she reveled in his strength as he pulled her even closer. The scent of laundry detergent from his clothes mingled with his cologne to give him a clean, masculine smell she loved.

He rested his chin atop her head and stroked her back in an achingly tender gesture. “I’d like to grab something to eat. I want to do this right. We can decide where to go from there, okay?”

“What sounds good to you?”

“I need protein and carbs. Dancing burns me out.” He pulled away and, cupping her jaw, tipped her face up to his. “You did really well on stage.”

“Thanks. So did you.”

His head fell back as he laughed. Settling, he grinned down at her. “You didn’t tip me.”

“Maybe I’m holding out for a private performance.”

Blue eyes darkened with desire. “I bet we can arrange something after I eat.”

Grace traced the planes of his chest through the soft cotton of his shirt, thinking. She could play this any number of ways. Games weren’t her style, though. Direct communication was much more in line with her preferences. So...taking a deep breath, she met his gaze head on. “I suppose there’s dinner or...breakfast.”

Justin’s heart tripped beneath her palm before it began to hammer against his rib cage. His lips parted, but he said nothing.

“Or we could—”

“Breakfast is perfect.” Lacing their fingers together, he lifted their joined hands to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “Did you drive tonight?”

“I actually rode with friends.” She pulled free and began to dig in her purse, determined to find Meg’s cell phone. “I can call a cab.”

Justin was quiet before saying, “I’ve got a car in paid parking.”

Something in his voice made her look up. “Are you sure?”

His smile was a little too bright. “I’m pretty sure that’s where it is.”

She searched his face but that smile never wavered. “Okay.”

He draped an arm over her shoulders and started across the street. Halfway there, his steps faltered briefly. Dropping his arm, he started walking toward the parking garage again. “Sixth floor unfortunately. It was crowded tonight.”

The urge to poke at him a little, to figure out why the mention of the car had irritated him, almost overwhelmed her. Instead, she followed him to the elevator.

The minute the doors started to slide shut, he rounded on her. “For the record? Just because I’m slowing this down a little doesn’t mean I’m not desperate for you. We clear?”

She dropped her purse and took an involuntary step back as he closed in, wove his hands through her hair and descended on her mouth with obvious intent. All she could do was grip his jacket and hold on.

Justin owned her mouth, his tongue delving inside hers with breath-stealing eroticism. He tasted of spearmint mouthwash. He felt like the embodiment of temptation. He feasted on her, a man starving for her and only her. It was too much and not enough.

She gasped and arched into his hand when he cupped her breast and stroked a thumb over one aching nipple. Then he grabbed her ass and pulled her into his erection. His arousal was contagious. She was tinder to his flame and her body went up in a flash of female heat. A desperate moan escaped her tenuous control.

He swallowed the sound.

Their harsh breathing and sharp gasps filled her ears.

The elevator slid to a stop.

Justin lifted his head to wordlessly stare down at her.

The doors started to close.

He glanced over and hit the button to hold them open.

“I thought you were hungry,” she said softly.

“I might have been wrong.”

His stomach chose that moment to growl. He cursed.

“Forget breakfast. The sooner we get you fed, the sooner we can...” Heat burned across her cheeks. Damn fair complexion.

The skin of his thumb was slightly rough as he caressed her cheek. “We’re both adults, Grace. Unless you’re talking about a Monopoly marathon, I would imagine we’re on the same page.”

“Yay, adulthood,” she whispered.

He grinned. Whatever bothered him earlier had disappeared. “Yay, adulthood, indeed.” Swooping low, he grabbed her purse in one hand and settled the other on her waist. “Let’s go, beautiful.”

Grace stepped out of the elevator and followed him across the concrete pad. She could give herself this one night. On Monday she’d start her two-week practicum, the last thing she was required to complete in order to earn her diploma. Then she’d start her life in Baltimore. She’d be free. So, yeah, she would enjoy tonight. Maybe she could talk Justin into grabbing something at a drive-through so they could get to Monopoly faster. She wondered if he’d chosen the long-running game for a reason.

She could only hope.