Читать книгу Mistresses: Just One Night - Yvonne Lindsay - Страница 8

SUMMER night, weighted with the heavy thud of bass, poured thick through the converted loft’s open windows above. Industrial fans churned overhead, each slow revolution mixing the rhythm-rich, humid air with the heady perfume of bodies in union.

Levi Davis rubbed his jaw against the smooth curve of a toned calf, before easing it off his shoulder to skim down his side in one long, soft, leggy caress. As distractions went, he couldn’t have done better than this smoke-eyed, soft laughing, yogilates instructor reveling in a one-night exception to the rules she lived by.

Sexy.

Unexpected.

Elise.

Arching beneath him to graze her teeth over the tendon at his neck, she moaned softly, “You are so wrong for me.”

“Completely,” he assured with a gruff laugh as he pushed a hank of sweat-damp hair from his brow and rolled to his side. Took in the trim lines of the woman beside him, the silky waves of her hair spilling over his pillow, the smooth limbs tangling in high thread count as she stretched and twisted amid the sheets.

Damn, she’d been exactly what he needed. A full contact, deep impact, whole mind and body diversion from HeadRush. From the bands and the bars, from walking the rooms and working the customers. From the restless energy that came part and parcel with this leg of the gig. The job was done, the club everything he’d envisioned it could be … The development phase was the fun part for him. Taking his vision and making it real. But once the kinks worked out, Levi was eyeing the calendar, tapping his foot, just waiting for the clock to run down so he could take his profit, blow town, and start again. Unfortunately, a key component to that profit he’d become so accustomed to was a club with a six-month proven track record for pulling a crowd. And he still had a few weeks to go.

So he was stuck.

He’d been stir-crazy. Watching his well-oiled machine run without a hitch. Feeling the press of no pressure around him. The confines of a challenge exhausted.

He’d needed a break to shake it off.

Which was how he’d found her.

Nine-thirty. Both of them walking the aisles of a late-night Chicago bookstore a half-mile away. He’d liked the look of her. So serious, with her nose buried in some beginner’s guide to small business. Liked the sound of her even more when his first teasing comment garnered more than a tentative smile. When her nervous fluster gave way to a burgeoning excitement about the studio she planned to open. And then they’d just talked.

He hadn’t been after a challenge. Not consciously anyway. But it was right there …

He wasn’t her type. She didn’t do casual. They were incompatible in every way—except the one charging the spaces between their odd topics with an awareness he didn’t want to ignore.

As it turned out, Elise was a challenge he couldn’t resist. And by the time her breathy “Just tonight” feathered over his lips, he’d been thanking his stars for that.

Levi drew a finger down the tantalizing slope of her shoulder. That alluring combination of good-girl smile and bad-girl bare skin making him want to sink into her again, spend another few hours lost in—

“So, thank you,” Elise said, abruptly levering to sit and then looking around as if taking in a scene she didn’t quite know what to do with.

Something was off.

“Umm, that was really nice …” She winced a little, hesitated and then reached over to … pat his hand? “And I should get going.”

Nice? What the—? Okay. So she was nervous again.

Because she hadn’t done this before. Made sense.

And he hadn’t been prepared for it … because he hadn’t been with someone who hadn’t done this before.

“Hey, Elise,” he started, reaching out only to have her roll from the bed and start systematically pulling on all the clothing he’d stripped off her less than an hour before. The clothes he hadn’t planned on pouring her back into for at least another hour still.

Over her shoulder, she shot him a hesitant glance. “I’m sure I won’t see you around, so, good luck with the new club in Seattle.”

Levi’s brows drew down at the awkward transition. The new and immediate tension radiating from the body that, a moment ago, had been pliant in his arms.

This was a brush-off. Unmistakable in its familiarity, only foreign in that he generally wasn’t on the receiving end. It shouldn’t matter whether he was the one calling an end to the night’s activities. He ought to be grateful there wasn’t some uncomfortable scene—okay, a more uncomfortable scene—and a slew of misplaced expectations to contend with.

Yeah, he should have been grateful but, watching that tumble of sexy curls spill around her shoulders as she fiddled with the fluttery top she’d been wearing … he wasn’t.

Willing her hands steady, Elise Porter tied her halter and dug an elastic out of her jeans pocket. Gathering her hair in a careless wad, she bound it in place, fighting the slow burn of humiliation crawling over her neck.

Thank you?

I’m sure I won’t see you around?

Talk about killing a moment. She was ruining everything.

Why couldn’t this guy have just collapsed in a heap beside her? Fallen asleep, and let her escape without a word. Without the rude reminder of her absolute inexperience in matters of casual sex?

This wasn’t the memory she wanted to take with her. Heat burning over her cheeks and that single gruff cough of—of whatever awkward response it was—sounding behind her.

Okay, well, no more talk. Even if she’d been doing a passing job of it, a furtive glance at the clock confirmed there wasn’t time. She just needed to get her things, and go. Quickly.

Halter. Jeans. Panties.

Check, check, check.

Wallet and keys. By the door … where she’d dropped them when they got inside.

For shame, bad girl, she thought with a curling little smile she didn’t have the time to indulge in.

But where the heck were her shoes? Searching the floor, she came to a halt at Levi’s bare feet stepping into a pair of faded jeans by the bed.

Oh … “No.”

A bark of masculine laugher answered and her gaze shot the length of him—taking in everything from his commando state beneath the low-hung denim, to the hard-cut ridges banding his abdomen, and the wry twist of his mouth and crinkled lines around his eyes.

God, he was good-looking. Too good. She swallowed, turning away before she went all weak-kneed again … and ended up back in the bed she’d just squirmed out of.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean don’t get up,” she said, an anxious sort of desperation driving her to put some distance between them.

She’d known exactly what she was getting into with Levi when she came back to his apartment. Sex. Simple and straightforward. A good time. The kind she’d read about in magazines and seen on TV. No strings. No repercussions. No expectations she couldn’t meet.

It was a one-time, one-night concession granted on the grounds of extenuating chemistry. That and maybe the crazy high she’d been riding since submitting the loan application for the yoga/Pilates studio she and her fellow instructor hoped to open. She’d been ready to burst for hours after leaving the bank—excitement and anticipation thrumming through her veins—with no outlet in sight. So she’d hit the bookstore, intending to brush up on her business know-how, only she’d brushed up against Levi Davis instead.

He’d been gorgeous and funny and so totally, unapologetically everything she’d always stayed away from. But she’d laid the first brick in the foundation of a new life that afternoon. And that night, marking the occasion with one reckless act of indulgence had proved too tempting to resist.

The only thing was, Elise didn’t do casual sex. Not that casual even remotely described the kind of carnal intensity she’d experienced in the bed behind her. She made love. Or at least that was what it had been through the two long-term relationships that, until an hour ago, had been the sum total of her sexual experience.

So this was a one-time, magic-ends-at-mid- night, exception to a rule—albeit a rule forged more from a lifetime of habit and circumstance than any real moral standpoint, a rule nonetheless. And with mere minutes until twelve—the time she’d sworn to herself she’d be gone by—she was in jeopardy of violating the most critical element of the exception.

One night.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m going to scoot out of here … just as soon as I find my shoes.” Or maybe without the shoes if she didn’t find them in the next one-hundred-twenty seconds.

Levi flicked on the bedside lamp, throwing a weak circle of light around them. Scanning the floor, he picked up the duvet piled at the foot of the bed.

“Here we go.” He handed over one while considering the other thoughtfully. “It’s like a spike heel, a boot, and a sandal all in one.”

Yeah, well, that was all well and good, except she didn’t really want Levi’s take on her shoes or anything else for that matter. No more charm. No more chatter. No more opportunities to taint a memory she fully intended to savor for time eternal with her clumsy replies and awkward talk.

She just wanted out. She needed to go.

Balancing on one foot rather than revisiting the scene of seduction to sit, Elise hopped about, working the boot onto her foot.

Sweeping his own set of keys off the floor and then grabbing hers, Levi eyed her feet. “Are they comfortable enough to walk in or should we drive?”

Uh-h-h … “You don’t need to take me back. Really, I’m good with picking up a cab.” HeadRush was right next door and the popular South Loop club had a line of taxis stretching halfway down the block. There wouldn’t even be a wait.

“We’ll drive, then.”

Opening her mouth to protest, she closed it just as quickly beneath the pointed, unyielding stare leveled on her. A reminder of the authoritative edge that had periodically revealed itself through the course of the night. Two hours ago she’d found it dangerously exciting. Attractive. But now—well, fine, she still found it attractive, just not so convenient.

Not when she only had—a quick glance at the clock beside his bed showed the time at eleven fifty-nine. Her heart sank as the numbers flashed to twelve.

Now she’d done it.

Another broken rule.

That would be the last though—and getting in a car with a stranger didn’t count, considering she’d already been in his bed. So no more broken rules. No more missteps. Just straight home and a polite goodbye.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

It was ten more minutes. Really, what could happen?