Saving the Best for Last (2 page)

He looked around at the empty bar, now quiet and dark except for the light coming from the under-counter fluorescents and the neon beer signs in the front windows.

“In that case your timing is perfect.”

She was walking the length of the bar slowly, taking off her knit hat and mittens, leaving them like a trail of bread crumbs along the surface of the bar.

“Why haven’t you ever hit on me, George?” she asked.

He shrugged casually but his pulse was already picking up the pace. He had a pretty good idea about what she was warming up for.

“You seem to be doing all right on your own,” he said, drying his hands.

The truth was, he’d never really been sure what all the other guys saw in her. Sure she had all that long red hair, always worn in a thick Lara Croft braid down her back, and those huge blue eyes. But she was small—to the point that it looked as though one overzealous, heat-of-the-moment thrust would break her in half—and boyishly built.

As she rounded the end of the bar and started coming behind it, her long, heavy winter coat still buttoned and covering her to the knee, the appeal of her hit like a slap in the face. The girl didn’t mess around, and when she’d set her sights on a guy, she made sure he got the message loud and clear. His cock, hearing the call as well, stirred in response.

“How do you know I haven’t been coming in here, hoping you would buy me a drink one of these nights?” she asked, her fingers starting to work the buttons of her coat.

“Have you?” He set the towel aside and waited, torn between letting her do whatever it was she’d come to do and sending her on her way with a pat on the head. He knew more than anyone how many other men she’d left his bar with over the past months, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to be added to the roster.

At his question, her confidence faltered for a brief flicker of a moment.

“No.” She stopped a few feet away, bold again. “But the more you didn’t pay much attention to me, the more curious I got.” Her fingers slid the last button out of its hole and stopped working. “You know what they say, don’t you?”

“Who’s they?” he asked, one hand still resting on the bar.

“They.” She gestured in the air vaguely with her arms, then peeled off her coat and laid it casually over the bar as if she wasn’t naked except for a pair of thigh-high boots underneath.

His cock came more fully to attention.

Maybe he’d been wrong about the boyish thing. She was little, to be sure, but she’d been hiding a secret under the bulky sweaters she wore. Her breasts were small but high, firm and perfectly shaped with the most mouthwatering candy-pink nipples he’d ever seen.

“Yep.” He nodded. “That should definitely happen to every guy at least once in his life.” He let his eyes travel lower, to her narrow waist and hips, and that tidy thatch of red hair between her legs. “You know anyone on the street could look in and see you?”

She shrugged and put her hands on her naked hips. “So turn off the light.”

He had to lean toward her to reach the switch under the counter. Suddenly she was awash in only the red and blue lights coming from the window at his back.

“You were saying?” he asked, sick fascination and the moral paralyzer of a naked woman within arm’s reach keeping him from ending it before it began.

“They say,” she continued, reaching for the hem of his shirt and making a smooth pass over his stomach before dipping into his jeans, “the least obvious guy is always the one who’s hiding the biggest secret.” Her eyes went wide as she stroked his cock from tip to root and back.

George’s teeth clenched tight. She gave the head a squeeze that made his knees go loose.

“Son of a bitch,” she said. “I fucking knew it.”

Everything jerked into fast-forward motion. She took a condom out of the top of her boot and the voice in his head reminding him of all the others he’d seen her leave with before sat down and shut the hell up. She clamped the foil-wrapped latex life-saver between her teeth while she worked the zipper on his jeans and he pulled his own shirt over his head.

She pushed his jeans down his hips, watching as his cock came free of his clothes.

“Fuck me, you’re a beautiful man,” she breathed, running her hands over his chest. She pushed her naked body against him, trapping his eager erection against her small, flat belly, her hard nipples pressed to his chest, her breath already starting to come fast. They moved backward, him shuffling a little awkwardly with his jeans around his thighs, until the backs of his legs hit the beer cooler and he sat down on the cold metal surface.

She made quick work of getting him into the condom, and then time changed to slow motion like someone flipping a switch. Straddling him on leather-clad knees, she dug both her hands into his hair and kissed him, pulling hard and hungry against his mouth. Her skin was fever hot under his fingers as he ran them over her small, tight thighs, held her narrow hip with one hand and slid his fingers into the soaking wet slit at the apex of her legs.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, raised up a little and showed his mouth to one of her breasts. He circled his tongue around the hard little nipple, making her groan. When he pulled it into to his mouth, sucking as if his life depended on it, she moaned wantonly and rocked her hips, moving with the rhythm of his fingers working between her legs.

When he was sure he couldn’t wait for her any longer, she took him in hand and guided the head of his cock into that little furnace burning between her legs. She was so tight his vision blurred as she slid onto him all the way to the hilt.

“Stay with me, George,” he heard her say through the blood rushing through his ears. “Stay with me, big guy,” she groaned, rotating her hips as she ground against him.

He wasn’t going to stay with her for long. She was too tight, felt too good. His fingers dug into her hips as she raised up and came back down on him, her breath coming in a long, moaning sigh as she took him all the way inside again. He held her down and took her other nipple in his mouth. Her back arched, tightening her slippery little cunt around him even more.

“Let go.” Her voice was shaky.

He ignored her. If he let go it was going to be over just like that, and he wanted this to last. He pushed up into her just a little more in answer and sucked on her nipple, held it between his teeth and flicked the tip of it with his tongue. She clenched tighter around him and her whole body shivered.

“Let go,” she said again, digging her hands in his hair and forcing him to look at her.

He let go. She rose all the way up until he thought he was going to slip out and then came back down hard with a sharp, whimpering gasp. She braced her hands on his shoulders and did it again, and again, the leather of her boots creaking as she rode him as though the devil was at her heels. He could hear his own grunts and gasps starting to mingle with hers, was both hypnotized and spurred on by the sight of those perfect little tits bobbing ever so slightly in front of him, could feel his balls ratcheting tighter and tighter as he thrust up into her.

When he knew he wasn’t going to be able to make it one more moment, she came down on him hard and stopped. Her fingernails dug into his skin, her head fell back so far he could feel her braid swinging between his knees and time stood still for one very long moment. Then she cried out in a way he’d never heard before—a low, lusty sighing sound that came from deep within her throat—and started to throb around him.

He felt his skin pull taught all over his body. The final surge roared up from his balls, his hips bucked beneath her and he came so hard he could hear his own teeth grind together.

Chapter Three

Her first coherent thought was:
Oh shit, what have you done now?

Her fingers and toes were tingling. Her sex was still throbbing. She couldn’t catch her breath and her muscles were all going soft, like the enormous cock that had just gone off like a rocket inside her. George’s hands slid up her back from her hips and he pulled her toward him until her forehead was resting on his shoulder, saving her from tumbling into a boneless heap on the floor behind his bar. Her eyes opened a little. She looked down the gorgeous expanse of his chest, his flat stomach—both covered by just the right amount of glorious hair, several shades darker than the dark blond on his head—to where their bodies were still connected and an aftershock made her shiver violently.

She’d only meant to satisfy a curiosity before she ended the reckless, demoralizing game she’d been playing with herself and the universe. But she could feel the seed of something that felt a whole like an addiction—for George and his body, his mouth, his beautiful cock and those killer green eyes of his—already taking root inside her.

He was too beautiful up close, too good with his hands and mouth, too…much.

One hit and she was hooked. She could feel it.

She needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

She sat up and his hands came up farther to cradle her head and pull her in for a long, lazy kiss that had the blood flowing through her sex in a hot rush again. She broke it off with a whole lot of effort and forced her rubbery legs to move. They both groaned when she raised up, slid off him and climbed down from the cooler. She gripped the edge of the bar, steadying herself on her wobbly legs, then turned and reached for her coat.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“What?” She looked at him with an icy bravado she wasn’t really feeling. “Did you think there was going to be more?”

“I didn’t think there was going to be anything,” he pointed out, taking a small, clean towel from a stack under the bar. “You showed up here,” he added, removing the condom and wiping himself off with the towel in one stroke, then throwing both in the garbage.

“You got off, didn’t you?” She shrugged and put on her coat.

He stood and zipped but didn’t button his jeans. “Yeah.” He crossed his arms over that amazing chest of his. “What if I’m not done with you yet?”

Movement over his shoulder caught her eye. A shadow passed out of sight of one of the windows before she could make sense of what, or who, it might have been.

“What was that?” he asked, turning to follow her gaze.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I thought I saw someone out there, but I guess not.”

“You sure?” He turned further toward the window.

From the inside, the windows facing the street were tinted dark but patrons could look out onto the street. From the outside, the tint was reflective except for a strip of clear glass at the very top where the neon beer signs hung. Someone tall could easily have been watching them the whole time. George headed past her toward the door, but her hand on his arm stopped him.

“It was nothing,” she assured him. “Good night, George,” she said, going up on her toes to kiss him. “Thanks for the ride.” She smiled and tried to move around him.

He blocked her way.

“Listen.” She put a hand on her hip. “I got what I came for, and you came. End of story.”

“You may have starting this, sweetheart,” he said, smiling, and the pace of her heart kicked up a notch, “but I intend to finish it.”

“Here?” She looked around the bar.

“I live upstairs,” he said.

She looked at him for a long time, her head yelling for her to run and her body screaming for her to stay. For the first time, once hadn’t been enough. Her hunch about saving the best for last had been dead-on, but the heat inside her hadn’t been sated by a hard, quick fuck like she’d hoped. It was burning hotter than when she’d walked through his door earlier, fueled higher by the absolute confidence in those deep green eyes of his.

If she stayed, she had no doubt whatsoever he’d make it a night she’d never forget.

But what would it mean when she tried to go back to her life in the morning?

“What if I say no?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “Are you going to force me to stay?”

“Are you going to make me force you?” he countered.

When she didn’t say no, he uncrossed his arms and reached for the lapels of her coat.

“That’s what I thought.” He grinned, pulling her close again.

She went willingly when he bent and lifted her so she had to swing her legs around his waist to hold on. He stepped into the stock room behind the bar, carried her up a set of stairs mostly hidden in shadow in the back. She shed her coat as they passed through the living room, was feeding desperately off his mouth as he took her directly to his bedroom, where he peeled her off him and dropped her unceremoniously onto the middle of his big bed.

“Now we’re going to do this my way,” he said, kneeling between her splayed legs and pulling down the long zipper on the inside of one of her boots. She watched him, her eyelids at half-mast, as he took his time removing both boots and then the thigh-high stockings she wore under them. His fingertips just barely brushed against her skin, making her nipples harden and her entire body ripple with goose bumps.

He sat back and spread his long-fingered hands over the insides of her thighs. In the light coming through the window from the streetlight at the corner she could see the hunger in his eyes as he openly looked her over from her face to her breasts, over her trembling belly and lower to where she lay spread wide open and aching for him to touch her some more.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, all innocent curiosity, her hands moving over her own breasts, playing with the nipples as much to tantalize him as please herself.

“First I’m going to feast on this sweet little pussy of yours,” he breathed, his voice ragged as he rubbed his thumb over her clit. Her back arched and she squirmed against him. He went up on his hands and knees over her, his fingers still working, making her wriggle more as he bent his head and took her earlobe between his teeth. “Then I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name,” he whispered in her ear as he dipped his fingers deep inside her, slicking them and pulling them out to rub her clit in a tighter, more calculated circle. “And I’m going to keep fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”