Shut Up and Kiss Me Page 3

  “Can we start again?” I asked suddenly. “I’m so not used to this.” I gestured to the empty space between us, giggling nervously.

  Will’s brow raised, his eyes sparkling with humor. Sitting up straight, he offered me his hand. “I’m Will, and you are?”

  I smiled—the first genuine smile I’d had all night—and as I took his hand in mine, warm and soft, his grip strong and assertive, I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “I’m Mila,” I said, still smiling, “I hate beer, love old movies, and I’m not good with social interactions.” I laughed lightly. “As if that wasn’t already obvious.”

  He joined me in laughter. “I’m not a fan of beer either,” he said, “I like whisky—single malt, preferably. Film-wise I tend to veer more toward comedies, and…I enjoy watching you smile.”

  At some point his thumb had begun to move slowly across the back of my hand. Realizing it, I gently pulled it free from his grip.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “Not the reaction I was expecting. Compliments make you uncomfortable?”

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. They were such a light blue, yet contained so much heat and depth that simply looking into them made me feel flustered all over again.

  “Yes,” I answered, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s uncomfortable, you know? When people you hardly know compliment you.”

  “And what about someone you do know?” he asked, laughing softly. “Are they allowed to compliment you?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “I guess so.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that someone would have to know you fairly well to tell you that they thought you were beautiful? That you had the most unusual eyes they’d ever seen, that the shape of your mouth made them want to kiss you long and hard, and that your accent and the way you speak so openly about how you’re feeling were incredibly alluring?”

  In the midst of taking another long swallow of my drink, I nearly started choking again. Quickly setting down my glass, I turned away from Will, feeling ruffled as he continued staring me, his features still so frustratingly full of self-assurance.

  “Yes,” I replied, once I’d found my voice again. “Yes, they would have to know me very well before they could say anything like that to me.”

  Will leaned back in his seat, and his gaze settled on his drink. The action was curious, leaving me wondering if I’d offended him somehow.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to get to know you a whole lot better, won’t I, Mila?” He looked up at me over the rim of his glass, his eyes sparkling with a devilish sort of humor. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and hearing it caused my pulse to slam into overdrive.

  Fumbling for an answer and not finding one, I went back to my drink, swallowing down the last of it and immediately reaching for my next. When I’d nearly finished the second, I set my glass down heavily on the table and willed myself not to hiccup.

  “Another drink?” he asked. “Maybe another shot of whatever it was you had downstairs?”

  My eyes widened. “No!” I exclaimed. “That was awful! Never again!”

  We both started to laugh, him more than likely at my expense and me because the alcohol was finally doing its job. I felt lighter now, more confident, with each sip less and less like myself.

  “Anyway, it’s my turn to buy.” Sitting up, I glanced around, seeking out the waitress.

  “You want to buy me a drink?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  I nodded fervently. “It’s my turn.”

  This whole…dating thing was new to me, but I knew I didn’t want to be one of those women who expected the man to pay for everything. Never again would I be dependent on a man—not even for something as insignificant as drinks.

  Finally finding the waitress several yards away, I stared at her back, unsure on what to do and what was the proper etiquette in this type of setting. Did I put my hand in the air? Did I call her over? Or did I go to her?

  Glancing at Will, I found him once again looking amused and grinning. With his eyes on me, he lifted his hand into the air and gave a small wave. And again, only moment later, a different waitress appeared—this one wearing even less clothing than the first, holding a fresh round of drinks.

  Quickly I dug through my purse, pulling free a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. The waitress’s heavily lined eyes widened in surprised confusion, glancing from my hand to Will. Confused, I looked to Will as well, wondering why she wasn’t taking my money.

  “I don’t want a tab,” I told her, attempting to explain myself. Neither of them needed to know that I couldn’t afford a tab.

  Again the waitress looked to Will, and at a slight nod of his head she reluctantly took my twenty, handling it like a dirty scrap she’d just found on the street.

  “Thank you,” Will said, leaning forward over the table, all traces of amusement gone and with a genuine smile on his face. “That was uncommonly generous of you.”

  I raised my brow. It was?

  Will leaned in, and his hand covered mine. And as I watched his expression shift from sincerity to blatant hunger, my stomach plummeted into my feet in the most delicious way.

  “You’re very different from anyone I’ve met before,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered, unsure if he was complimenting me or not.

  “Don’t apologize, Mila.” His eyes traveled the length of my face, his gaze growing more and more intense by the moment. “I like different.”

  * * *

  Will leaned forward, raising his other hand, cupping Mila’s cheek, and sliding his fingers into the thick of her hair. He hadn’t planned on kissing her—not yet, anyway—but watching her pull apart her purse and pull out a twenty that wouldn’t even cover the cost of his drink, let alone both, coupled with the fact that she was nothing like anyone he’d ever had the pleasure of keeping company with before, and mixed with the whisky burning in his gut, he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  His lips at first lightly grazed hers, feeling her shiver as they did, causing him to smile.

  “Mila’s an interesting name,” he said under his breath. “Slavic, right?”

  Mila trembled, but made no move to pull away from him. “Yes,” she whispered, her wide eyes staring into his. “It was my great grandmother’s…” She trailed off, falling silent as he moved in again for another chaste kiss, just another light press of his lips to hers.

  “It’s beautiful,” he mumbled, quickly closing the distance between them. As his leg came into direct contact with hers, Mila stiffened—something he resolved by kissing her again, smiling to himself as her body instantly relaxed and a tiny sigh escaped past her lips.

  Leaving her hair, he wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her flush against him as he once again took hold of her cheek.

  This time when he kissed her, he didn’t readily pull away but began to play with her lips, biting down softly, using his teeth to pull them apart and slip his tongue inside her mouth. She gasped in response—not truly a gasp, but a small inhalation of air that he used to his advantage to further delve into her mouth. Her hand found his bicep, her fingers clutching at the material of his T-shirt, and for a moment he thought she was going to use her grip on him to push him away.

  But she didn’t. She pulled him closer, her mouth now moving in sync with his. And again he was surprised by her. This woman could kiss, and kiss well. Her mouth, her tongue, her hand gripping him, along with the good amount of whisky he’d drunk—all rational thought was slipping from his grasp, leaving him at the mercy of only what his body wanted.

  And while he’d wanted to get to know her, to experience Mila before actually experiencing Mila, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to have her naked and in his lap.

  He wanted to fuck her.

  Falling away from her cheek, his hand grazed over the smooth plane of her chest, then not so subtly over top the swell of her small breasts, before landing softly in her lap and taking hold of one nicely toned thigh. />
  Holding fast to their kiss, Will dug his fingertips gently into her leg as he pressed his body closer. She moaned into his mouth, squirming in her seat, seeming just as anxious as he was to find some way to bring their bodies closer.

  The table was definitely not working out for him.

  Still, he’d never been one to let something as trivial as a table thwart him and so, in one bold move, he slid his hand up under the hem of her dress and along the inside of her thigh, a soft growl escaping his throat as his fingertips grazed along her smooth skin.

  Her breath hitched as her legs opened, and suddenly her other hand had found purchase on him, gripping hold of his neck, her fingernails digging harshly into the skin there. He couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want to help himself, and his hand crept up higher between her thighs, hitting against the warmth there.

  “Mila,” he muttered, pulling slowly out of their kiss. “We—”

  “Mila?”

  They both glanced up in surprise, her releasing him with a startled squeak and him immediately pulling his hand away, dropping it into his lap and feeling oddly enough like an errant schoolboy.

  Nikki stood across from them, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape as she stared at Mila. And Mila, she was staring back at Nikki, her slim body still slightly trembling.

  “Mila?” Nikki repeated, her nostrils flaring as she fought to contain a threatening smile. “Mila.”

  Mila glanced toward Will, her gaze no longer shuttered and full of wanting, but wide-eyed, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She glanced back to Nikki, shrugging her shoulders, a sloppy smile curling her lips. And then all at once both women burst out laughing.

  “I had no idea where you were,” Nikki said, tossing Will a dirty look. “And to think I was worried about you.” Her gaze returned to Mila. “I’d thought maybe you’d want to leave…”

  Will watched as Mila’s laughter died on her lips, watched her happily playful expression become something closely resembling a frown, and knew that if he didn’t step in and say something this adorable woman was going to walk out the front doors of his club and he’d more than likely never see her again.

  “I think we should leave,” he said, taking hold of Mila’s hand, rubbing his thumb in a slow circle across her palm. “Maybe a late dinner? I know a great place not far from here.”

  “I don’t know,” Mila started, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Don’t say no on my account,” Nikki said, smiling slyly. “I know some of the girls from work are hitting up a club across town, I’ll go meet them.” Leaning down over the table, she bowed her head to her friend’s ear and whispered something Will couldn’t quite make out. Mila’s already flushed features turned an adorable shade of red and her eyes squeezed closed, an attempt to fend off her threatening grin. Eventually she let out an exasperated sigh and nodded her head.

  Yeah, Will decided right then and there that he really, truly liked the tiny woman.

  Straightening, Nikki gave them both a lazy, half-lidded smile. “So I’ll see you later,” she said to Mila. Reaching for her purse, she spun around and started toward the stairs, her hips swinging with an exaggerated swagger. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she called out on a laugh, waving over her shoulder.

  Will’s gaze collided with Mila’s and he winked. “Hungry?”

  “Very,” she whispered, breathless.

  Chapter Three

  Will slipped his hand into mine and gently led me down the stairs. I chewed on my bottom lip, half attempting to contain my grin and half trying to force back the blush I knew was working its way across my entire body. Several sets of eyes fell on us as we hit the bottom of the staircase, and something akin to shame hit me as several people looked me over, some seeming overly interested and some appearing skeptical. It was as if they knew what had just happened between us, that Will’s hand had just been so very close to a part of my body that hadn’t been touched in well over a year.

  And yet, I’d loved it, loved how freeing it had felt to kiss a stranger, how erotic it had seemed, sitting in that booth, his hands on me, mine on him, not over-thinking anything for the first time in far too long, but just living my life in the moment. For once.

  One night of freedom.

  That’s what Nikki had whispered to me. And I’d known right away what she meant. One night free from the worry and the fear and the guilt that constantly plagued me. One night to be someone other than myself, to do something fun and entirely out of character, for once not fretting and panicking over every action and reaction.

  Yes, I wanted this. I wanted to be someone different tonight. Will was unbelievably handsome, and an incredibly skilled kisser, whose hands… My God, his hands…

  But it was more than just to do with Will. He might have started this fire inside me, but I wanted to keep it burning. I wanted to accept this challenge from Nikki, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that I could let go, even if for only a moment.

  Once at the coat check, I quickly fumbled through my purse, searching out my ticket, and when I was once again in my borrowed jacket, Will and I were headed through the front doors, past the line of waiting people and in into the cool night air. As we were waiting just off the curb for a taxi, a rather large man in a simple black suit appeared on Will’s right, the two men’s gazes colliding for a fraction of a second. Will looked away first, and in turn the man walked off.

  “Do you know him?” I asked, curious.

  “Sort of,” he replied.

  Another question on the tip of my tongue was stilled by the arrival of a taxi. Pulling the door open, Will gestured me in with a smile. Flushing, I slid quickly inside, my dress snagging on the torn leather of the seat and causing the fabric to inch up my thighs.

  Will followed me in, his appraising gaze on my thighs, traveling up my midsection, blatantly pausing on my breasts, then my mouth, before finally coming to rest on my eyes. My stomach fluttered, the heady combination of lust and liquor warming me to near boiling. I wasn’t hungry at all—at least not for food.

  "Where to?" The cab driver's deep voice sliced through my thoughts, his thick accent jarring me back to the present.

  “La Bella Luna,” Will answered, his gaze never leaving mine.

  As the taxi pulled away from the curb, I broke away from Will’s stare and looked out into the bustling night. Nerves still fluttered inside me, but with each passing breath my confidence grew in leaps and bounds. This all felt so uncomplicated and so wonderfully out of character for me.

  “Mila?”

  Like hot butter sliding along swaths of silk, his deep voice cascaded over me and a shiver spiraled down my spine. Turning, I found him smiling again, his stare—as I imagined it always was—bold and unwavering. Feeling bold myself, I looked him over, his perfectly sculpted features, the messy locks of his hair grabbing my attention. Suddenly I had the urge to lean over and run my fingers through the soft waves.

  “Yes?” I said, my voice surprisingly husky.

  His smile grew. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

  Not knowing how to respond, I pressed my lips together, arousal flooding me. A million different thoughts ran through me, the most predominant of which was Kiss him. Kiss him first, dammit.

  His hand cupped my cheek, forcing our gazes together as he slid his fingers through my hair. Gripping the back of my neck, he gently pulled me toward him, me sliding along the worn leather until the gap between us was no more. Breathing hard, I looked up at him, feeling needy and wanting—the cab driver, the entirety of New York City…now all but forgotten.

  Then he kissed me.

  This wasn’t a soft kiss. He didn’t start out slow like he had at the club, but instead brought his mouth crashing down against mine, his lips urgent as his tongue delved instantly inside. One hand appeared on my ribcage, skimming the underside of my breast, while the other dropped from my neck to my thigh, immediately seeking the skin beneath my dress. My own hands lifted, grippin
g the front of his shirt, pressing my body as close to his as I could, kissing him back faster and harder, my insides and emotions tumbling and leaping until I felt as I was spinning in circles.

  His fingertips grazed the apex of my thighs and I moaned into his mouth. He groaned in response, a soft, throaty growl that had my legs clenching together, forcing his hand even higher. Then the taxi came to an abrupt stop, all at once breaking our kiss and shocking me out of the moment. I glanced forward, seeing the taxi driver watching us in the rearview mirror, his expression a cross between annoyed and expectant.

  “I’m not hungry,” I whispered.

  The hand between my thighs twitched while his blue eyes glittered liquid fire.

  “Where do you live, Mila?”

  My thoughts momentarily faltered. Where did I live? Somewhat confused, I simply stared at him until realization finally hit me. He wanted to come home with me. Of course he did—I was all over him, panting for more. And once he did, it would culminate—what we’d been doing back at the club, inside the taxi—it would conclude once we were behind closed doors. Is that what I wanted? To have sex with this man? This stranger who I knew nothing about other than how badly my body was burning for him?

  I breathed out a shuddered breath. Yes. This was exactly what I wanted.

  Whispering my address to him, he turned away and repeated my words to the driver. When he’d turned back to me, I lifted my chin, parting my lips, wanting to pick up where we’d left off.

  Pulling his hand from between my legs, Will shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured, sliding his arm across my shoulders. He pulled me against him and I settled into the crook of his body, my heart racing, my stomach somersaulting. Crossing one leg over the other, I squeezed my thighs together, a lame attempt at stopping the throbbing ache between them. The taxi suddenly wasn’t going fast enough, the thirty-minute drive to my apartment seeming excruciatingly long.

  The feeling never abated. When the taxi finally came to standstill in front of my apartment building, although I’d spent the past half an hour encased in Will’s warm embrace and my nerves considerably eased, I was still reeling with desire.