Inarticulate (4 page)

S
avannah stood on her own
, her back to the bonfire. She snuggled into her jacket and yanked up the collar to fight the lowering temperature. The heat on her legs was sublime. Almost painful. The slight burning took her mind off Penny, Keenan, and the growing need to pee.

There were no toilets out here. None. And now that she cradled her third wine spritzer, her bladder was determined not to let her forget.

“Hey, sweet thang,” a male slurred from beside her.

She palmed the unopened bottle in her hand and shot him an unimpressed look. “Hey…”

“You single?”

She chuckled and went back to staring at the impressive hedge that separated them from the wealth of the house yard. “Who’s asking?”

“They call me Fox.”

Of course they did. “Well, Fox, you’re extremely forthright.”

“When I want something, I usually take it.”

Unfortunately, her vagina wasn’t on offer. To him, at least. Keenan, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. Even with the question of his relationship status hovering in the back of her mind, she still had to fight the need to turn and seek him out through the flames.

“You lookin’ to get laid?”

She breathed through the need to snort and looked at him with sincerity. “Come on, Fox, you can do better than that. You need to woo me.” She gripped the cap of her unopened wine spritzer and, yet again, tried in vain to twist it off.

A tingle ignited in her neck and she wiggled her shoulders, trying to brush away the sensation that someone was watching her. She knew it was her imagination. Her hormones, to be more specific. She wanted Keenan to be looking at her, his appraisal raking over her skin.

“Woo you?” Fox swayed from side to side and kicked the dust up at his feet. “How?”

A throat cleared behind her and she glanced over her shoulder to find Keenan. Right there. He was less than a foot away, his striking presence hovering over her. He reached out and gripped her wine spritzer. Time stopped as he brushed her hand away and twisted the cap.

“Thanks.” She turned to face him, grateful that Fox took the hint and slinked away. “Ditched the girlfriend, did you?”

There was no response, only sterile silence. She lowered her attention to the ground. To his large brown boots, not wanting to break the ice between them. At some point he had to give her something, anything, to fracture the awkwardness.

But apparently that time wasn’t now.

“Did you know there’s no bathrooms around here?” She looked up through her lashes, thankful that the bitter bite of annoyance had left his eyes. “A guy at the cooler told me to squat behind a tree.” There was almost humor in his gray depths.

“Squat,” she continued. “Behind a freakin’ tree.” She was a city girl. If there weren’t toilets, you didn’t go to the bathroom. You held your bladder. Until you initiated kidney failure, if necessary. “I’m at the point where I either have to stop drinking to avoid the carnage, or become comfortable with a higher level of intoxication so it isn’t mentally scarring when I drop my pants in public.”

His lips lifted at one side, a lazy grin she wished she witnessed more often. He shot a quick glance over her head, past the bonfire, then grabbed her wrist and gently tugged.

“What?” She looked over her shoulder to find Penny with her back turned. “Are you hiding from her?” She wanted to add, “You big girl,” but held her tongue.

Keenan tugged her again, regaining her focus as he began walking backward. He wanted her to follow, but where? A few feet away? To the shadows?

She stumbled after him, the heat of the fire leaving her body and an entirely different warmth enveloping her from the inside out. As darkness surrounded them, she chanced another look toward the partygoers and made eye contact with a glowering Dominic.

Yep, I’m disappearing with a stranger. Please come looking for me if I don’t return.
She smiled at him, ignoring his concern, and two-stepped to catch up with Keenan’s confident stride.

“Where are we going?”

He didn’t stop. His grip held tight on her wrist, never loosening, and she didn’t want it to. The noise of the party faded and the sound of her boots crunching in the grass became clearer. So did the pounding in her chest. He led them to a gap in the head-high hedge and pulled her into seclusion.

“Keenan?”

He stopped and turned to face her, their breath fogging in the frigid night air. He didn’t gift her with a wicked curve of his lips. No. He was far better than that. He simply stared at her, his interest brushing over her facial features until he paused at her mouth.

She couldn’t help the reaction to lick her drying lips. It was instinctual. The same way her nipples hardened and her pussy tingled.

He raised her hand to chest level, his friendly grip around her wrist changing to something more when he brought them palm to palm and entwined their fingers. She didn’t have time to cherish the rough texture of his skin, or concentrate on the way his thumb slowly brushed hers, because he started walking again, leading her along a stone path.

She tip-toed, well aware they were trespassing, but unwilling to pull her hand from his grasp. Perfectly trimmed knee-high hedges bordered their way forward, and the darkness grew the closer they approached the overbearing house. Large white pillars held up curved balconies with glass banisters. Each window had the curtains pulled closed, not a glimpse of the inside visible.

“Isn’t this private property?”

He didn’t answer. Not in words or movements.

There were still no lights on inside, and the possibility that no one was home should’ve lessened the fear scorching her veins.

“Do you know who lives here?”

He tugged on her hand, making her realize she’d stopped in the middle of the path. She didn’t want to move. At least not in a forward motion.

He tugged again, and her feet complied.

“Keenan,” she hissed.

He stopped, huffed, and pulled her close, their feet bare inches apart. She swallowed over the restriction in her throat, and fell a little further under his spell from the glow of the moonlight on his skin.

“Do you know who lives here?” Her voice was so soft she could barely hear it.

He focused on her eyes and his nostrils flared. She didn’t know what was happening. What they were doing. She only knew her body was overheating even though her breath fogged between them.

“Keenan.” God, she loved the sound of her voice whispering his name. “Are they home?”

He raised a finger to her mouth, held it there, and made her yearn to lick it away with each second that ticked by. He bit his lower lip, still staring, still standing so close. Then she was left reeling when he turned back to the path and continued to lead her forward, not stopping until they reached the corner of the building.

“Okay.” Enough was enough. “I’m all for breaking the rules every now and again, but breaking the law is a little different.”

He tugged her toward a nearby door and crouched down, scouring the ground underneath a leafy shrub. There was another breathy huff, then he moved to the garden on the other side of the doorway and performed the same scavenging ritual. When he sat back on his haunches, the shiny silver key in his hand incited nausea to pool in her belly.

“You must know who lives here.” He had to if he knew where the key was, right?

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t enter someone’s house without an invitation. What was that even called? They weren’t breaking into anything, but they were entering without permission.

“Keenan.”

He stood, brushed his hands together, and maneuvered behind her, leaving her to face the door.

Oh, hell no.
“You know what?” she whispered. “You’re hot, mysterious, and tempting as hell, but this is really pushing my boundaries.”

His body sank into her back and he placed a hand over her mouth. She was nervous, scared, yet horribly, achingly aroused. Her heart was hammering, her pulse echoing in her ears, and all the while, the hardness of his chest resting against her was far too enjoyable for words.

She clung to his wrist that hovered near her face and moved with him as he leaned forward, inserting the key into the lock. There was a twist and a push, then the door was ajar, the pitch black of inside looming frighteningly close.

She shook her head.
Nope.
Not going in there.

The heat of his breath tickled her neck, and his scent filled her lungs. Her breathing grew heavier, faster, then his nose nuzzled gently below her ear and she was lost. Sensations overwhelmed her. Desire constricted her chest.

Her world was condensed to him and her. The two of them—the grip of his hand over her mouth, the hardness of an unmistakable erection against her ass, the palpitations of her heart as she fought not to turn in his arms.

His hips bucked and she stumbled over the threshold, the heavy clunk of her heels echoing loudly against the tiled floor.

She froze.

He froze.

He pressed his hand tighter over her mouth and she stopped breathing altogether. She was caught between the temptation of pleasure and the possibility of a criminal record. His fingers drifted away from her lips and his body heat descended, from her back to her ass then her legs. He crouched behind her, his palm sweeping over her calf, down to her ankle.

She closed her eyes and bit the inside of her mouth, tasting the coppery tang of blood. He gripped the back of her heel and yanked, dislodging her boot, then pulled it off completely. Her sock covered toes were guided to the tile before his hands fell upon her other leg, going through the same motions.

As he stood, he closed the door behind them, securing her fate. He wove a hand around her waist and kept the other on her hip, cocooning her in arousal. There was nowhere to go but where he desired. Nowhere to run if it meant she wouldn’t be in his arms. She slid forward, measuring her steps, ensuring she didn’t make a sound.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” she whispered so low she wasn’t sure he could hear.

There were doors to her left, an archway to her right, every avenue leading into more darkness. Her surroundings slowly crept into her consciousness—the warmth of indoor heating, the high ceilings, the smooth tiles, and the total silence apart from their breathing.

Keenan tightened his grip around her waist, forcing a gasp from her throat as he directed her into a small alcove. Moonlight seeped in from an adjoining room. A bathroom. She looked around the space surrounding her, noticing a basin to her left, a hand towel on an elegant metal hook, and another door up ahead.

He gestured forward, toward the closed door. It felt like a trap, like wherever he was leading was a dead end. She twisted in his arms, facing him, trying to read his eyes. Her heart began to pound, throb, pulse in her ears with incessant force.

“Keenan…” She was an idiot. An overstimulated and sex starved idiot. “Please don’t tell me you broke into a house just so I could use the bathroom.”

His slowly building grin said it all. He was insane. Intriguing, arousing, and clearly mentally unstable. He stretched around her, the squeak of a turning doorknob making the lust dilute from her system.

She’d had this all wrong. She’d mistaken his psychotic interest as a prelude to sex.

Evidently, there would be no bumping of private parts…only a bathroom break.
Idiot.

Her shoulders slumped as he straightened, the tiny glimmer of his grin still in place.

“I’ll use the bathroom,” she grumbled. “But I still don’t appreciate that my first criminal act will involve urinating in an unauthorized area.”

His silent laughter taunted her. She turned, her chest heavy with disappointment, and walked toward the small room. One step, two step, three step, fo— His arm slid around her waist and he swung her around to face him. He was upon her in a heartbeat, thigh to thigh, waist to waist.

He loomed over her, his eyes dark and menacing, his features tight.

Fear collided with the needy plea from every erogenous zone in her body. She wanted him more than she wanted a clean police record. More than her next breath. More than her sanity. Yet she knew nothing about him, and what she did know involved trespassing and what seemed to be a complicated relationship with Penny.

“You’re a confusing man,” she murmured.

There was a flash of a smile, a glimmer of a dimple, then his mouth was upon hers, stealing the oxygen from her lungs and replacing it with scorching flames. He was a puppeteer, pulling her strings with precision, his lips working hers in confident and entirely unapologetic strokes.

She whimpered, begging for more as she placed her hands on his shoulders and clung tight. Why had she ever wanted words from him? His kiss said it all. It answered all her questions and confirmed the mutual attraction.

Then just as quickly as pleasure engulfed her, he stepped back, breaking the connection with brutal force. They panted into the silence, their chests heaving, her palms sweating.

“Keenan—”

He placed a finger to his lips and quirked his head, listening as he focused over his shoulder.

“Is someone coming?”

He shook his head and met her gaze.
Lying
. There was something deceptive in his eyes, something completely devoid of the passion from moments before. He jerked his chin toward the door behind her and shooed her with his hand.

She couldn’t hear a thing, only harsh exhalations and the pounding rhythm of her pulse. Her nausea returned, coalescing with her panic over being caught.

“Okay.” She shouldn’t trust him. Not his actions, his seduction, or his confidence. She really shouldn’t. Yet she did.

She was a fool for being here. For turning her back, padding into the tiny room and closing the door between them. She’d known he was trouble the moment they met. Without a word, or a smile, the defiance in his eyes had yelled at her to walk away. But, God help her, she was more of a fool for succumbing to the falling sensation taking over her body.

She had to have him. At least a little more than a taste.