Why Not Tonight
Page 22
“That’s totally different. Wynn’s one of my girlfriends. I have to respect her personal space.”
“But not mine?”
“Not really.”
She was tantalizingly close. He wanted to move that last inch and kiss her. But they were in public, and when he made his move, he wanted them to be alone.
“Who is Jasper? He seems familiar.”
Her brows rose. “You don’t know his face—it’s his name. He’s a writer. His books are thrillers and you’ve probably read them.”
The information clicked into place. “I have. He’s great.”
“Are you going to go all fan-boy? I’m not sure how Jasper will react. Maybe it will be a sweet moment for both of you.”
“Very funny.”
“I am funny.”
She was a lot of things, he thought as he stared into her eyes. Pretty and sweet and sexy. The kind of sexy that made a man ache all over.
“Am I interrupting?” Wynn asked as she returned to the table. “You two are looking intense.”
Ronan straightened, not sure what to say. Natalie grinned at her friend.
“We were talking about you and Jasper, wondering if you were a couple.”
So much for respecting a friend’s personal space, Ronan thought with a chuckle.
“It’s an interesting question,” Wynn said serenely. “Now if only there were an answer.”
* * *
NATALIE MADE IT to the final round only to have an unexpectedly bad couple of games. She wasn’t sure how she’d become so distracted. It might have been the second glass of wine—something she rarely indulged in—or maybe the blame lay with not having Ronan sitting next to her.
She’d thought it was impossible to concentrate when the man was right there—breathing, talking, laughing. She’d been aware of everything. Of his broad shoulders, of how she could almost feel the heat from his body, of the way he had of looking at her as if she were the most interesting person in the room. It was a heady combination. Yet when she’d moved on to the final round and he hadn’t, he’d left. Just like that, and she’d had, well, nothing.
The whole evening was confusing. While they’d been playing, she would have sworn he was interested in her. She’d tried to tell herself not to read too much into his attention. After all, he’d turned her down before. Yet she couldn’t help thinking, wishing, that he were a little bit interested. But then he’d left and she’d realized she must have misread everything.
What was it about that man? Why him and why did he get to her the way he did?
She crossed the street and walked to her converted house. The front door opened onto a small foyer with three mailboxes, a table for packages, the doors to the two downstairs apartments and a staircase leading up to her larger apartment. She’d barely taken the first step up when she became aware that, despite the late hour, she was not alone. But before her breath could catch or she could start to panic, she recognized the man sitting halfway up the stairs. Recognized his light brown hair, green eyes and faint smile. When her heart rate picked up again, it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with anticipation.
“Ronan?”
He stood. “I thought you’d be longer.”
“I didn’t make it past the final first round.”
He waited until she reached his stair, then took her hand in his and led her to her front door. She unlocked it and they both stepped inside her apartment.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say or do. Offer him a beverage? Ask what was wrong? Throw herself at him and beg him to take her? The latter was the most intriguing but she couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d turned her down. He’d been kind and gentle, but it had still been a no.
“So, ah, why are you here?” she asked.
He shoved his hands into his jeans front pockets. “I was waiting for you. I meant what I said before—at my place. I couldn’t do anything while you were my guest. You’re not anymore and I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it was like having you in my house. Your invitation haunts me. I keep reliving our kiss and wanting to do it again. That and more. I want you, Natalie.”
Oh. My. God! No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had ever been so blunt, just putting it out there.
Deep inside, she felt a shiver, then another until she was trembling. She felt herself melting before he’d even touched her and wished she had something sophisticated or badass to say in return, but all she could muster was “Me, too.”
Which, it turned out, was enough.
He reached for her, pulling her hard against him. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth claimed hers with a delicious power that left her gasping. His tongue teased hers even as his hands began to roam her body.
Everywhere he touched, she burned. Wanting exploded, shocking her with intensity and need. She’d always been a slow-build kind of girl. The sluttiest thing she’d ever done in her life had been to offer herself to Ronan a few nights ago and look how that had ended. Only now he was kissing her as if he couldn’t possibly get enough.
He sucked on her lower lip before kissing her again even deeper than before. At the same time, he tugged on the hem of her shirt. Instinctively, she raised her arms so he could pull it off. Once it was gone, he ran his warm hands up and down her back before unfastening her bra and tugging it free of her body.
She barely had time to register her partial nakedness before his hands cupped her full breasts and began to massage them. Pleasure shot through her, making her whimper. It had been about a zillion years since she’d been with a man. Having that man be Ronan only intensified the experience.
He drew back enough to stare at her bare breasts. His eyes dilated and he swore softly, then dropped his head so he could take one of her hard nipples in his mouth. There was no elegant licking, nothing that tender. Instead he sucked hard, then used his teeth to lightly abrade her aroused flesh.
Her body’s reaction was fast and to the point. Heat burned from her breast to her groin, leaving her barely able to stand. She groaned and cupped his head, encouraging him to do the same on her other breast.
“Just like that,” she whispered, unable to stop herself from talking. “Like that, Ronan. Harder!”
He followed directions perfectly, going back and forth, sucking and nipping until she started to feel pressure build between her legs. Good pressure, the kind that told her she was alive and well and going to have an orgasm very shortly.
Without warning, he pulled back and dropped to his knees. He unfastened her jeans as she toed out of her loafers. Seconds later, her jeans and panties were on the floor and he was easing her back onto the entryway table.
The lamp wobbled. He set it on the floor, used his fingers to part the very center of her, then placed his tongue on her clit. For a second, that was it, just the pressure. Then he began to move. First back and forth, then in a circle that went around and over, again and again, until she was nothing but a quivering nerve begging to be satisfied.
The sensations were as intense as they were wonderful. She parted her legs as far as she could and hung on to the table to keep herself balanced in her half sitting, half standing position. Ronan didn’t move any faster, but he pressed harder, pushing her closer and closer.
They were in her foyer, a voice whispered. She was naked and he had yet to take off a stitch. She should be ashamed of—
“But not mine?”
“Not really.”
She was tantalizingly close. He wanted to move that last inch and kiss her. But they were in public, and when he made his move, he wanted them to be alone.
“Who is Jasper? He seems familiar.”
Her brows rose. “You don’t know his face—it’s his name. He’s a writer. His books are thrillers and you’ve probably read them.”
The information clicked into place. “I have. He’s great.”
“Are you going to go all fan-boy? I’m not sure how Jasper will react. Maybe it will be a sweet moment for both of you.”
“Very funny.”
“I am funny.”
She was a lot of things, he thought as he stared into her eyes. Pretty and sweet and sexy. The kind of sexy that made a man ache all over.
“Am I interrupting?” Wynn asked as she returned to the table. “You two are looking intense.”
Ronan straightened, not sure what to say. Natalie grinned at her friend.
“We were talking about you and Jasper, wondering if you were a couple.”
So much for respecting a friend’s personal space, Ronan thought with a chuckle.
“It’s an interesting question,” Wynn said serenely. “Now if only there were an answer.”
* * *
NATALIE MADE IT to the final round only to have an unexpectedly bad couple of games. She wasn’t sure how she’d become so distracted. It might have been the second glass of wine—something she rarely indulged in—or maybe the blame lay with not having Ronan sitting next to her.
She’d thought it was impossible to concentrate when the man was right there—breathing, talking, laughing. She’d been aware of everything. Of his broad shoulders, of how she could almost feel the heat from his body, of the way he had of looking at her as if she were the most interesting person in the room. It was a heady combination. Yet when she’d moved on to the final round and he hadn’t, he’d left. Just like that, and she’d had, well, nothing.
The whole evening was confusing. While they’d been playing, she would have sworn he was interested in her. She’d tried to tell herself not to read too much into his attention. After all, he’d turned her down before. Yet she couldn’t help thinking, wishing, that he were a little bit interested. But then he’d left and she’d realized she must have misread everything.
What was it about that man? Why him and why did he get to her the way he did?
She crossed the street and walked to her converted house. The front door opened onto a small foyer with three mailboxes, a table for packages, the doors to the two downstairs apartments and a staircase leading up to her larger apartment. She’d barely taken the first step up when she became aware that, despite the late hour, she was not alone. But before her breath could catch or she could start to panic, she recognized the man sitting halfway up the stairs. Recognized his light brown hair, green eyes and faint smile. When her heart rate picked up again, it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with anticipation.
“Ronan?”
He stood. “I thought you’d be longer.”
“I didn’t make it past the final first round.”
He waited until she reached his stair, then took her hand in his and led her to her front door. She unlocked it and they both stepped inside her apartment.
She had no idea what she was supposed to say or do. Offer him a beverage? Ask what was wrong? Throw herself at him and beg him to take her? The latter was the most intriguing but she couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d turned her down. He’d been kind and gentle, but it had still been a no.
“So, ah, why are you here?” she asked.
He shoved his hands into his jeans front pockets. “I was waiting for you. I meant what I said before—at my place. I couldn’t do anything while you were my guest. You’re not anymore and I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it was like having you in my house. Your invitation haunts me. I keep reliving our kiss and wanting to do it again. That and more. I want you, Natalie.”
Oh. My. God! No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had ever been so blunt, just putting it out there.
Deep inside, she felt a shiver, then another until she was trembling. She felt herself melting before he’d even touched her and wished she had something sophisticated or badass to say in return, but all she could muster was “Me, too.”
Which, it turned out, was enough.
He reached for her, pulling her hard against him. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth claimed hers with a delicious power that left her gasping. His tongue teased hers even as his hands began to roam her body.
Everywhere he touched, she burned. Wanting exploded, shocking her with intensity and need. She’d always been a slow-build kind of girl. The sluttiest thing she’d ever done in her life had been to offer herself to Ronan a few nights ago and look how that had ended. Only now he was kissing her as if he couldn’t possibly get enough.
He sucked on her lower lip before kissing her again even deeper than before. At the same time, he tugged on the hem of her shirt. Instinctively, she raised her arms so he could pull it off. Once it was gone, he ran his warm hands up and down her back before unfastening her bra and tugging it free of her body.
She barely had time to register her partial nakedness before his hands cupped her full breasts and began to massage them. Pleasure shot through her, making her whimper. It had been about a zillion years since she’d been with a man. Having that man be Ronan only intensified the experience.
He drew back enough to stare at her bare breasts. His eyes dilated and he swore softly, then dropped his head so he could take one of her hard nipples in his mouth. There was no elegant licking, nothing that tender. Instead he sucked hard, then used his teeth to lightly abrade her aroused flesh.
Her body’s reaction was fast and to the point. Heat burned from her breast to her groin, leaving her barely able to stand. She groaned and cupped his head, encouraging him to do the same on her other breast.
“Just like that,” she whispered, unable to stop herself from talking. “Like that, Ronan. Harder!”
He followed directions perfectly, going back and forth, sucking and nipping until she started to feel pressure build between her legs. Good pressure, the kind that told her she was alive and well and going to have an orgasm very shortly.
Without warning, he pulled back and dropped to his knees. He unfastened her jeans as she toed out of her loafers. Seconds later, her jeans and panties were on the floor and he was easing her back onto the entryway table.
The lamp wobbled. He set it on the floor, used his fingers to part the very center of her, then placed his tongue on her clit. For a second, that was it, just the pressure. Then he began to move. First back and forth, then in a circle that went around and over, again and again, until she was nothing but a quivering nerve begging to be satisfied.
The sensations were as intense as they were wonderful. She parted her legs as far as she could and hung on to the table to keep herself balanced in her half sitting, half standing position. Ronan didn’t move any faster, but he pressed harder, pushing her closer and closer.
They were in her foyer, a voice whispered. She was naked and he had yet to take off a stitch. She should be ashamed of—
