At the contact of the cold dessert on her sizzling hot skin, she nearly imploded right then and there, but then there were his eyes, also sizzling hot, watching her reaction as he leaned over and licked her.
After all, she was his dessert. But oh. My. God. In that moment, she couldn’t remember why she wanted to resist, or even get him out of her system. Hell, she could hardly remember her own name.
“You’re the best flavor of ice cream I’ve ever had.”
Unbelievably, just his words brought her to the edge. Aided, of course, by the fact that she sat wantonly spread on the couch, nearly naked—which somehow felt more naked than totally naked—and him still fully dressed. Her hips kept moving of their own accord, in a rhythm she couldn’t seem to stop, and though she wanted to close her eyes rather than watch him watch her, she couldn’t seem to do anything but utter a soft, helplessly needy whimper.
Understanding completely, he went back to the job at hand, which apparently was to drive her slowly out of her mind. He handled the task with aplomb, using his fingers to hold her steady, his lips, his tongue, even his teeth, to drive her wild.
And she did go wild.
She came completely out of herself. And when she could breathe again, still gasping for air, she realized she had him by the ears, holding him to her, her thighs nearly strangling him. “Ohmigod.” Still panting, she let go of him. “I’m sorry.”
Sitting back on his heels, he smiled, not appearing to have suffered any for her abuse. “My pleasure is your pleasure.”
Since that had been the case, literally, she managed not to cover her face, but she did reach for his clothes. “You are way overdressed,” she told him, yanking his shirt over his head.
The sight of his chest distracted her for a moment, and she surged up to reach for the spoon. “And now it’s my turn.”
The look on his face defied description, a mix between amusement, shock that she wanted to return the favor, and that heart-stopping heat that never failed to sear her skin. Shifting their positions was easy enough, and somehow he managed to skim her out of her clothes while he was at it, and then she was naked in his lap, his pants shoved to his thighs, all her good parts rubbing against his good parts.
“God, you feel so good.” Head back, he arched up. “So damned good—holy shit!”
She’d given him a taste of his own medicine with the cold ice cream, and smiling down at the trail she’d set for herself, from chest to his most impressive erection, she bent to her task.
He slid his hands in her hair, halting her progress a mere fraction of an inch from her target. “Dani—”
“Are you allergic to ice cream, Shayne?” she asked, mirroring his earlier words.
He let out a half groan, half laugh. “No.”
“Then trust me.” Pushing him back, she proceeded to eat her dessert; that is, until Shayne cupped her face and lifted her up.
“Tell me you have a—”
“Yes.” He held up a condom.
“Thank God.” Her fingers were shaking from need, and when he took over, she saw that his trembled too. “That’s what happens when you eat dessert first,” she whispered, and he laughed.
And then she started laughing too, at least until he lifted her up so that she could sink down over him, because as he pushed inside her, all laughter went out the window.
A low, raw sound escaped him, incredibly sexy, and his hands urged her to move on him, up and down, and though she’d thought that since this was round two for both of them, it would be slow and sweet, apparently their bodies didn’t get the memo, because it was like a freight train, hitting hard and fast, and in her entire life she’d never felt anything like it. It was as if he’d climbed inside her body, knew what she wanted before she wanted it, and knew how to give it to her. It was like being lost and coming home.
All at the same time.
Terrifying.
Yet simple...
And she wasn’t quite sure what it all meant, except deep down she was sure. She was exactly sure.
Which terrified her most of all.
Shayne opened his eyes. He was flat on his back on the carpet of Dani’s living room.
Naked.
Dani was draped over him like a blanket, and in keeping with the evening’s festivities, also naked, a state in which she looked heart-stoppingly amazing. He loved her curves, loved her creamy skin—still sticky from the ice cream—and especially loved those curves and creamy skin all pressed up against him.
While he ran his hand down her back, she let out a soft sigh and snuggled her face into his neck.
She was asleep, he realized. Fast asleep. Her hair was in his face, and if he wasn’t mistaken, there was some ice cream in the strands as well, a fact that brought a ridiculous grin to his face.
Ice cream and sex. That had been a new one, even for him.
Her lips brushed his flesh, which brought both goose bumps and another reaction, far south of his neck.
Lifting her head, she smiled at him, her eyes sleepy and sexy, a smudge of ice cream still on her jaw.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey back.” Okay, so that hadn’t been just adrenaline, and she wasn’t out of his system. That was new too. He could deal with that.
“You probably have to go,” she said.
Go?
“Since we, you know, washed each other out of our systems and all.”
He stared at her. So... she wanted him to go. Wow. Okay. He’d do that. He’d go. Which was good, really. Because this was just sex. Of course it’d been just sex—
From the pocket of his pants on the floor, his cell phone vibrated.
“I’ll get it for you.”
“That’s okay—”
But she’d slipped off him and reached into his pocket, handing him the phone.
The ID read: Michelle King.
“You going to get it?” she asked.
“It can wait.”
“You mean she can wait?” When he looked at her, she winced. “I saw the name. Sorry.”
“She’s just—”
“No, don’t explain.” She reached for her sweater. “I went into this with my eyes open. It’s okay.” She grabbed her skirt and wriggled into it. “I just don’t want to be the one waiting around for your phone calls, you know?”
“Aren’t you the one who didn’t pick up my calls?”
“I’m just saying, I don’t expect you to call.”
“You should. You should expect it.”
She stared at him, leveling him with those soft, expressive chocolate eyes. “This thing needs rules, or something.”
“Like... what? You get to wield the wooden spoon next time?”
The tension left her face and she laughed. “I already did that.”
God, he loved her laugh.
“No, like... like maybe...” She glanced at him, chewing her lower lip.
“Like maybe what?”
“Like maybe we both have to know what we’re doing here.” She straightened her clothes. “With the whole just-sex thing.”
“I can tell you that you seem to know exactly what you’re doing.”
She let out a low laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean? What kind of rules?”
“Maybe... that even if we’re having just sex, we’re not having it with someone else until we’re finished with all the sex.” She said this, then held her breath, as if she might be asking for too much.
Lifting his hands, he sank them into her hair, holding it off her face as he made himself hold her gaze. “While I’m sleeping with you, Dani, I don’t want to be sleeping with anyone else.”
“So that makes us, what? Sexually exclusive?”
“The last time we got anywhere close to this conversation you told me you weren’t going to date me.”
“But then we slept together.”
“As I recall it, there wasn’t much sleeping.”
She blushed. “I know. But the rule thing? You’re okay with it?”
“I spent most of my life screwing the rules.”
“Of course.” Smile gone, she turned away. “It’s okay. That was ridiculous of me. People having just sex don’t use rules.”
He managed to catch her before she ran down the hall. “Wait—”
“I’ve got to—”
“Wait,” he said again, softly, pulling her back against him, wrestling a little with her because damn, she was strong and she did not want to look at him. “Just wait.”
She didn’t move, just looked at him with those eyes. Killed him with those eyes. “I like you,” he said carefully. “I like you a lot. I realize I sound about twelve, but give me a minute.” He gulped in some air. “I want to spend time with you,” he corrected. “I want to see where this is going. But if you’re asking me for a final destination, I just don’t know it yet.” Again, he smoothed back her hair and found himself inexplicably nervous, waiting on a response. “Is that okay for now?”
She stared at him for a long heartbeat, during which time he didn’t so much as blink. Her heart seemed to be in her eyes, and it was damn hard to look at them because they made him feel things he hadn’t expected to feel.
Finally she nodded, and he could breathe. “Okay.” He felt this odd, overwhelming sense of relief. “Okay... So now it’s my turn to name a rule.”
She eyed him warily. “Oh?”
“I was thinking we should have a no-clothes rule. You know, when we’re here or at my place.”
Her eyes lit with shock, then humor. “A no-clothes rule.”
“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”
“No.” She smiled, and he felt like he’d just won the lotto. “Especially since I can’t seem to find any underwear around you.”
He kissed her. And then again. And when they were both breathless, he raised his head. “Your turn for a rule.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Rule number three,” she said very seriously. “The next food item we use during sex has to be a heated item.”
His heart actually stopped. Then kicked hard. And right then and there, he felt himself fall just a little bit. “Deal.”
Dani woke up just before dawn to elephants bleating at the top of their lungs.
Her alarm.
Heart racing, she slapped the snooze button and turned over with a smile already in place for the man—
Not next to her.
He’d left. Which, she supposed, was only fair. After all, she’d done the very same thing to him the night before. And just because they’d talked about rules didn’t mean they were going to continue this thing. So him leaving? No biggie. In fact, as far as good-byes went, it was a fairly gentle one. Gentle, and yet somehow, at the same time, a little sad.
Okay, a lot sad.
Get over yourself. In that vein, she got up and looked into the mirror. Her hair stuck straight up on one side (courtesy of the ice cream) and was flattened completely to her head on the other (also no doubt courtesy of the ice cream), making the no make-up status just that much worse. She had a beard burn beneath her jaw, which she could live with, and something stuck to her shoulder.
A condom wrapper.
Good God. She was a walking Don’t Be This Girl ad. No wonder he’d run off. Any sane person would have run off.
But next time, no matter what, she wasn’t going to let him in. Next time she’d—
Ah, hell, who was she kidding?
She’d let him in. She’d probably let him in and strip him out of his clothes so fast his head would spin.
Clearly, she was depraved.
She showered. It took three shampoo applications to get rid of the ice cream, and when she came out, her phone was ringing. Running for it, she stubbed her toe on her nightstand and went down like a brick. “Damn it, don’t hang up, don’t hang up!” she yelled as she crawled the last few feet to the phone. “Hello?” she gasped, a small part of her hoping it was Shayne.
God. She needed therapy. “I’m here, don’t—”
Click.
“—hang up.” Damn it! She sagged to the floor, her forehead to the carpet that definitely needed vacuuming. When the phone rang again, she nearly parted ways with her heart. “Hello!”
But in her ear came another click.
Huh. That wasn’t Shayne. He would definitely not hang up. No one she knew would hang up on her, unless—
Oh, boy.
Unless this wasn’t just a random annoying hang-up. Maybe it’d been from her special psychotic stalker. A little creeped out, she rushed her morning routine and left for work as soon as she got dressed, needing to get out of her apartment before her fear gripped her.
The zoo’s employee parking lot wasn’t nearly as empty as it had been the night before, but she still didn’t dawdle. Halfway across, her cell phone rang, making her jump. Shayne’s name on the ID caused some other reactions entirely. Be cool. “Hi,” she said as casually as she could with all her parts clamoring for his attention.
“Hi yourself. I just landed in sunny Las Vegas.”
“Oh.” He’d had a flight. Of course he’d had a flight. “So... you’re calling because...”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“I’m calling just because, Dani.”