Why Not Tonight?

11

Sunday, 2:30 a.m.

WALKING ALONG the dark, quiet street lit by nothing more than the hazy silver glow of moonlight, her fingers lightly entwined with Adam’s, Mallory pulled in a deep breath. The air was hot, humid, heavy with moisture, and smelled of cut grass and summer flowers. And the clean, fresh, masculine scent of the freshly showered man walking beside her.

Another wave of memories inundated her, of that magical summer when she’d fallen so deeply in love with him. They’d frequently taken long walks, sometimes in the park, sometimes along the beach. Leisurely strolls, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing. People they knew. Places they’d been and wanted to visit. Their favorite things and least favorite stuff. Sports. School. Books. Music. Movies. It seemed as if they never ran out of conversation. As far as she was concerned, there hadn’t been enough hours in the day to cram in everything there was to say and do.

She’d loved talking to him. Listening to his deep voice. His laugh. His gentle teasing as he tried to convince her that since she was now a New Yorker she needed to switch her baseball allegiance from the Cubs to the Yankees.

Yet she’d also cherished their comfortable silences, the times when they’d just sit, their arms wrapped around each other, and watch the sunset. Or the gulls fight over a morsel left by the day’s beachgoers. How she’d close her eyes and lean against him, absorbing the feel of him surrounding her, and think that this was just the beginning of something very, very good.

“Are we almost there?” he asked, yanking her thoughts back to the present.

She inwardly smiled at the hint of impatience in his voice. “Just around this next corner.”

“Thank God. Feels like we’ve been walking for hours.”

“It’s been about four and a half minutes.”

“Well, in my alternate ‘dying to get my hands on you’ universe, those four and a half minutes feel like an eternity.”

There was no denying the delighted shiver of anticipation those “dying to get his hands on her” words rippled through her.

They rounded the corner and the high school came into view, the tall stadium visible behind the building. Adam quickened his step and Mallory practically had to jog to keep up with his long-legged strides.

“Good thing I didn’t wear my heels,” she said, glancing down at her flip-flops. “What are you, in a rush?”

“A gorgeous, sexy woman who has me so aroused I can barely see straight is going to rock my world as soon as I can get her behind that stadium. Yeah, you might say I’m in a bit of a rush.”

When the stadium loomed before them, Adam broke out into a run, tugging her along. Laughing, feeling wilder and freer than she had in a long time, she ran with him across the grass. By the time he pulled her beneath the bleachers, she was gasping for air. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up and spun her around until she was dizzy and weak from laughter.

When he stopped, he slowly lowered her, her body dragging along his. Before she could catch her breath, he kissed her. A hot, deep, demanding, impatient kiss that set her on fire until she imagined her every nerve ending glowed. And she realized that he was what was making her dizzy. Just as he always had.

Without breaking their frantic kiss, he stepped backward until he bumped into one of the thick cement columns. He immediately turned them, pinning her against the column with his body. And then he simply overwhelmed her, inundating her with a deluge of sensations so rapid she could barely keep up.

His hands were…everywhere. Pushing up her tank top. Cupping her breasts. Teasing her nipples. Skimming over her stomach. Down her legs, then back up, slipping under her skirt.

He broke off their kiss, his breathing a labored growl. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No. God, no.” He impatiently yanked down her skirt and she kicked it aside. Gliding his fingers between her thighs, he stroked her with a maddening rhythm that dragged a long moan from her throat-a moan that turned into a gasp of pleasure when he slipped two fingers inside her.

“You feel so good,” he said against her lips, his voice a ragged groan. “So wet. So tight. So hot.” His mouth blazed a downward trail, kissing, nipping, licking. When his tongue laved her nipple, she arched her back, a plea he instantly answered by drawing the stiffened peak into the heat of his mouth. Each pull of his lips on her breast was matched by a deep stroke of his amazingly talented fingers, the combination of which made her come in a convulsive rush.

Gasping for breath, her shudders had barely subsided when he dropped to his knees before her, spread her thighs wider and ran his tongue along her cleft. Her eyes slid closed as his lips and tongue proved as amazingly talented and relentless as his fingers. With her body still humming with the aftershocks of her last climax, another orgasm rocketed through her, forcing a ragged cry from her throat.

Eyes closed, muscles lax, breathing unsteady, and floating on a hazy cloud of postorgasmic bliss, she was vaguely aware that he stood. Somewhere in the back of her glazed mind she heard the tearing of a wrapper. The hiss of a zipper. Then he lifted her and moved between her thighs.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. She clasped her ankles behind him and with a groan he thrust deep. Then slowly withdrew, the erotic pull setting up a deep craving and reawakening nerve endings that only seconds ago she’d thought sated. Another deep thrust, dragging a guttural growl from her to mingle with his, followed by a slow, gliding withdrawal. A thought-destroying rhythm that he repeated. Again. Again. Harder. Faster.

Her hands clutched his shoulders, her thighs tightened around his hips as the tremors started deep in her body, radiating outward in spasms that pulsed hot pleasure through her system. She felt him thrust a final time then bury his face in the space where her neck and shoulder met as his orgasm shuddered through him.

Neither moved for several seconds. His warm breath battered her neck, while she fought to pull air into her lungs, the musky scent of their passion filling her head. She prayed he didn’t release her because if he did, she’d just slide to the ground in a steaming lump of melted, quivering female flesh.

After a few more heartbeats, she swallowed twice and managed to find her voice. “Holy cow.”

She felt him nod once against her shoulder.

“You know, if you’re going to throw me into the deep end, how about tossing out a ‘hold your breath’ warning?”

He lifted his head and looked at her through glazed eyes. “Couldn’t. I got my hands on you and forgot how to speak English.”

“Well, that’s not good since you’re the brains of this outfit now that you’ve melted mine.”

“Great. Maybe now I can beat you at Scrabble.”

“Not likely. Which means I’m the brains and you’re the brawn.”

“No, I’m the brains, you’re the beauty. And brains, too.”

“Hey, flattery will get you…everywhere.”

He leaned forward and lightly kissed her. “Not flattery,” he whispered against her lips. “The truth. Beautiful. In every way. Inside and out.”

“Well, jeez, if you’re going to put it that way, my knees aren’t going to recover anytime soon.”

His arms tightened around her and he rested his forehead against hers. “No problem. I’ve got you.”

Those softly spoken words brushed over her lips and echoed through her mind. I’ve got you… I’ve got you… And she suddenly realized that she stood in real danger of giving them much more meaning than he’d intended.

He shifted slightly and she unclasped her ankles. Her legs slithered limply down his until her bare feet touched the grass. At some point her flip-flops had fallen off. Probably between climaxes two and three.

“You okay?” he asked.

“What kind of a question is that to ask a woman you just brought to orgasm three times? I’m…” Her voice trailed off as he gently withdrew from her body.

“Beautiful?” he supplied. “Incredible? Sexy as hell?”

“Knee-less is more what I was thinking. Although incredible is a pretty apt description.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re definitely incredible.”

“No, I mean I feel incredible.”

He ran his hands down her body. “Totally agree.”

A laugh huffed from between her lips. “No, I mean you made me feel incredible.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Back at ya, sweetheart. Are your knees okay yet? Can I let go for a minute?”

She wasn’t certain, but her pride forced her to say, “Sure. I’m fine.” Then she braced her knees-just in case.

He released her, stepped back, then pulled a tissue from his back pocket. Still feeling as if she were bobbing around in zero gravity, her eyes drifted closed. She heard him step away, presumably to dispose of the condom in the nearby trash can, then the soft glide of his zipper going up. When he didn’t return to her after several seconds, she dragged her eyelids open and found him standing about six feet away, his gaze slowly tracking up her body.

When his gaze locked onto hers, the intensity burning in his eyes shot a thrill of feminine power through her. Wearing nothing except her satin tank top, she felt sexy and wanton and deliciously wicked.

Nestling her shoulders more comfortably against the cement pillar, she lifted her arms and slowly sifted her fingers through her hair, watching him through hooded eyes. “So…did I make your fantasy come true?” she asked.

A muscle jerked in his jaw, then he blew out a long, slow breath. Regarding her with a heated look that made her feel as if she stood in a circle of fire, he slowly erased the distance between them until less than a foot remained. Bracing his hands on the pillar, he bracketed her in.

“Make my fantasy come true? Sweetheart, I can’t believe you’d even need to ask.” A flicker of concern flashed in his eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t believe you’d even need to ask,” she said, mimicking his response. Any more than she could believe that arousal was nipping at her again.

“I don’t usually…” He shook his head and frowned.

“Don’t usually what?”

“Lose control like that.”

His admission stilled her. She recalled that he’d often lost control like that with her. With flattering frequency. Just as she had with him. Just as she hadn’t in quite the same way with anyone else since.

Walking her fingers up his shirt, she looped her arms around his neck. “I, um, really liked your fantasy.”

“That makes two of us. And if you keep looking at me like that, you’ll be making my fantasy come true all over again.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, and I’d hate that. Really.”

“So now that you know all about my behind-the-stadium fantasy, how about sharing one of yours?”

“Hmm… Mine would involve an unexpected encounter with a well-dressed man. Everything would be very businesslike, but then he’d take off his suit jacket. Unbutton the top button of his shirt and loosen his tie. Roll back his shirtsleeves.” She heaved out a sigh. “For reasons I can’t explain, that loosened-tie, rolled-up-sleeves look on a man turns my knees to jelly.”

“And then what?”

“And then all talk of business would go out the window, I’d bring him back to my place and we’d have a nooner.” She grinned. “But your fantasy wasn’t too far off from another one of mine.”

“Don’t tell me-doing it with the captain of the football team?”

“Well, face it. Not too many girls fantasize about doing it with the vice president of the photography club.” She bent her knee and rubbed it against his thigh. “Although I’m guessing you easily could have changed that.”

“Hey-I didn’t need the stadium. I had the darkroom.”

“And now you’ve had the stadium, too.”

“I think that makes me all kinds of lucky.”

“Funny, I was just thinking it had made me all kinds of lucky. Three times.”

He waggled his brows. “Wanna go for four?”

“Wow. Forget the amusement park, this is the happiest place on earth. Probably wouldn’t take much to hit four. I find your presence quite…stimulating. Not to mention I, uh, seem to be without my skirt. Or panties.”

“That’s a shame. But as I recall, you didn’t have any panties to start with.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot.”

“I don’t see how you could forget. I sure as hell never will.”

He removed one hand from the column and his fingers slowly traced a line down the center of her torso to tangle in the curls at the apex of her thighs.

Mallory sucked in a quick breath as her libido snapped to instant attention at his gentle, teasing caress over her sex.

He lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck. “You realize I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I’m flattered. And…ooooh, yeah, right there…grateful.” She slid one hand down his body and rubbed his hard length through his jeans. “I don’t suppose you brought two condoms?”

“Sure did.”

Her soft chuckle turned into a moan as he insinuated his knee between her thighs and spread her legs wider to stroke her with that same relentless perfection that had already sent her over the edge.

She flicked open the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper. “You know we’d be more comfortable in my bed. But I’m thinking we may not get back to the house before dawn.”

“I’m thinking maybe you’re right. Besides, I’m so unbelievably hard, comfort is kinda secondary at this point.”

She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and wrapped her fingers around him. Oh, my. He wasn’t kidding about being hard. “Secondary?” she crooned, gently squeezing him. “What’s primary?”

“I’m so glad you asked, brown-eyed girl. Because I’d be delighted to show you.”

And boy, was she delighted to be shown.