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Shut Up and Kiss Me Page 4
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Page 4
Standing on the sidewalk, I waited as Will paid the driver. The next several minutes rushed by in a haze. Fumbling with my keys, hurrying up four flights of stairs, finding my door…
The lock clicked open, and the moment we stepped inside the dark apartment Will’s hands were on me, sliding my jacket down my arms and tossing it away. I stood there, my eyes squeezed shut, my lips parted, my chest heaving as I breathed through several steadying breaths. His hands found my back, running his palms from my shoulders to my backside and back up again. The sound of my zipper splitting apart echoed in my ears, and the feel of his breath hitting my bare back sent delicious shivers racing down my spine.
My dress fell away from my body, Will helping it down past my hips, leaving me standing there in only my heels and a pair of black cotton briefs. Releasing another shuddered breath, I dropped my purse on the floor and moved to turn, facing Will.
He stood there, shrouded in near darkness, his blue eyes soaking up the moonlight streaming in through windows, glittering as he looked me over. It should have been unnerving, being nearly naked in front of a near stranger. But it wasn’t. I’d surpassed any last vestiges of doubt I’d had while snuggled against him in the taxi.
He moved first, closing the short distance between us, wrapping his hands around my waist, dipping his head to my neck, his tongue darting out and licking its way across my throat. I gripped his arms, my fingernails digging into his muscled biceps, my head lolling backwards, a soft moan escaping me as he continued his exploration of my neck.
Then my breasts were in his hands and he was kneading them softly at first, his movements growing in enthusiasm when his mouth reached mine. Our tongues tangled, our bodies melted against one another, and then I felt him, hard and ready through the stiff material of his jeans, pressing up against my stomach. Inadvertently I cried out, feeling all-consumed by this moment, by this man, by the way my body was responding to his, and wanting—no, needing—more.
“Bedroom?” he asked, breaking our kiss, his voice a mere rasp.
“End of the hallway,” I breathed.
Grabbing my hand in his, he pulled me forward, walking quickly down the hallway with me hurrying after him, my heels clicking hastily against the hardwood floor.
“This one?” he asked, pushing open Nikki’s door.
“This one,” I said, pulling him forward.
Inside my bedroom, I barely had time to slide off my shoes before I was falling backwards onto my bed. The familiar touch of my thick cotton comforter and the smell of my laundry detergent enveloped me in feelings of comfort and safety.
Will followed me over, his bigger body kneeling between my legs as he began tugging his shirt up and over his head, revealing perfectly sculpted abs and a toned chest. Smirking down at me, he bent forward, and I finally did what I’d been wanting to. Reaching for him, I laced my fingers through the thick of his hair, watching as he closed his eyes, a groan escaping him.
Arching my neck, I pressed my lips to his, only meaning to give him a single, soft kiss while I continued my exploration of him. His eyes opened, our gazes colliding, and another throaty noise burst free from his throat.
Holding my gaze, he worked the buttons on his jeans open between us, expertly freeing himself. Then he was covering my body with his, his mouth once again fused with mine, his kisses more frantic, heavy with urgency. His hands freely roamed my body, skimming, grabbing, kneading, while I fought to catch my breath, trying to breathe through the numerous sensations erupting from every inch of my body, sizzling through my skin.
He suddenly stopped, pushing himself off of me and into a kneeling position. Reaching for his discarded jeans, he pulled something from his pocket. I watched him, swallowing hard, as he divested himself of his boxers, ripped open the condom, and slowly rolled it on. Finished, his attention once again on me, his hands found my hips and his fingers hooked into the waistband of my briefs, slipping them down my legs.
Again he looked me over, and even in the darkness I could make out the appreciation of his gaze.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, my eyes widening the moment the words slipped free. It was what I’d been thinking while watching him undress, while he’d slid the condom over himself, his jutting length, long and thick. Only I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
He laughed softly, a deep rumbling that caused gooseflesh to pebble over every inch of my skin. Unconsciously I squirmed beneath his gaze, helpless to stop the following blush that spread across my cheeks, and grateful that was it was too dark for him to notice.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his hand now pressed flat against the space between my hipbones. Sliding it across my stomach, he moved up toward my breast and took a nipple between his fingers. Leaning down, he took my other nipple into his mouth and began to suck, teasing me with his teeth and making me groan with pleasure. Between us, his hand moved from my breast down to my stomach and then further, dipping between my thighs, to the place that was most desperate for his attention. My back arched, my body leaving the bed as his finger teased its way inside of me.
My eyelids fluttered closed just as his mouth met mine, our movements frenzied and our bodies mere tangled bursts of energy, desperate to find purchase in one another. I bucked and moaned, forcing him to grip my hip to keep me still as he continued his skillful manipulation inside of me. Two fingers replaced the one and then I was crying out, trembling beneath him.
I was still reeling when he lowered himself, bringing my chest flush with his, and nudged against my entrance. Breathing in short, staccato breaths, I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and then, not breathing at all, I waited for him to enter me.
Will pushed slowly, the tip of him entering me easily. I gasped, simultaneously needing air and needing more of him, and he pushed harder, finally finding purchase, stretching me as he slid inside. My hands clasped his shoulders, my nails digging into him as he began to rock back and forth, slowly at first and then growing in urgency.
“Christ, Mila,” he groaned, his hands sliding beneath my backside, taking hold of each cheek. Pulling back his hips, he thrust forward, causing a maelstrom of sensation to cascade through me. Again and again he rocked into me, each time harder and with more determination than before.
It had been so long, and even longer since the sex had been good, that I could do little more than cling to him, a hot and writhing mess beneath his body—crying out and almost forgetting to breathe, unable to move, simply overcome and overwrought by everything, every single wonderful, mind-bending, body-melting, and beautifully crazy thing I was feeling.
My orgasm began slowly, a hot burn tingling within me, and then gradually it grew and grew the faster he moved, the harder he thrust, the more fervently Will’s body slapped against mine, hitting the most sensitive spot on my body over and over again.
I cried out, my fingernails scouring his back. Will groaned loudly, his strokes becoming jerky and uncoordinated as his body tensed before stilling entirely. His arms shook and his eyes closed before he finally opened them and looked down at me with a smile of sweet satisfaction. He leaned over and pressed a kiss, both soft and hard, to my mouth before rolling off to the side and leaving my body.
My heart, beating heavily in my chest, started to slow and my overheated body began to cool. Staring up at the ceiling, the effects of the manhattans beginning to wear off, I felt the body next to me shift and an arm snake its way across my midsection.
Now what?
Were we supposed to have a conversation?
Should I offer him water?
Oh God, what did I do?
“Mila?” Will’s voice cut through the thousand thoughts running through my mind while I tried to catch my breath.
I glanced to my right, meeting his hooded gaze where he greeted with me a lazy grin. “Ready for round two?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes full of hunger.
As I giggled, his hand cupped my backside, and then lower and…
&n
bsp; Oh. Oh!
* * *
Will blinked, his hazy vision taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. A white ceiling loomed low above him, a dated fan hanging from the center. He blinked twice, sliding his gaze to his right, where he was greeted with far too much sun streaming in through a set of slatted blinds. Nearby, a squat, chintzy-looking dresser sat, several drawers pulled open, with a University of Tennessee sweatshirt slung haphazardly across the top.
Stretching his legs, which were already dangling off the end of the bed, he yawned rather loudly.
Where the hell was he?
Something brushed against his leg, and the sound of soft, distinctly feminine snoring jolted his memories back into their proper places. Ah, yes. The club. Mila. The cab ride. The other ride…
He frowned to himself. Well, that certainly hadn’t gone as he’d originally intended. So much for getting to know the woman. He’d skipped straight to the meat in the middle and now…
Now what?
Hadn’t he just been telling himself yesterday that this wasn’t what he’d wanted from life anymore—an endless stream of people in and out of his life, serving no real purpose other than necessity or some form of gratification?
He sighed silently, feeling deflated and angry with himself. He’d done it again. So used to getting exactly what he wanted at the exact moment he wanted it, he’d unconsciously done the same with Mila. His frown deepened. There was no satisfaction in living this way; he’d known that for some time now. He wanted substance, not…not…
He chanced a glance to his left, at the woman sound asleep beside him. God damn, but she was beautiful—her cream-colored sheets an alluring backdrop against her lightly tanned skin, her brown hair fanned out across her pillow, the auburn highlights shining in the face of the sunlight. His eyes traveled lower, down her slim neck, her chest, to where one breast peeked out from beneath her comforter.
He’d awoken hard, but now, at the sight of her—her mouth slightly agape, her face slack with sleep, her beautiful body partially exposed—he was throbbing, more than ready for round three. His hand lifted, reaching for her, but stopped several inches shy of her cheek.
What was he doing? Touching her, waking her, taking her again would be a mistake. Because this, last night, it had all been a mistake. You didn’t form meaningful, lasting relationships with someone you barely knew by taking them to bed right away. He knew all too well what happened when you tried to date someone you were already intimately involved with. It took the thrill out of it. Worse, instead of getting to know the other person, you were too busy focusing on the sexual side of the relationship, and sex was much like a drug, causing you to feel things that weren’t actually there, making you believe that you and this person had more in common than just sex, when in reality that was all you had. And that realization never ended well for either party involved.
Feeling annoyed with himself, he silently pulled the covers off and swung his legs out of bed. Standing, he did a quick sweep of the small room, finding his clothing strewn about. One by one he picked up his things, dressing as quietly as he could in an effort not to wake her.
When he was fully dressed, he took another look around the room, wondering what he should do, if anything. His gaze snagged on a small desk in the corner, to a coffee mug full of pens and pencils. A note, he thought. He should at least leave a note.
Crossing the room, he scribbled out a short message, adding his phone number at the bottom, confident that she wouldn’t call. In fact, considering how easily embarrassed she was, if he were to wager a guess on how she’d react when she woke up and found him gone, he’d guess she’d be relieved.
At the thought of her blushing, he smiled slightly. She was pretty damn adorable, and it was a shame they hadn’t met under different circumstances, without the added aphrodisiac of liquor. Dropping the note on her nightstand, he set out into the hallway, cringing when he found her front door slightly ajar.
Was her roommate home? It didn’t appear as if anyone had been here since them—Mila’s dress still pooled in the middle of the hallway just inside the doorway. Shaking his head, he smiled at the dress as he passed by it, stepped out into the hallway, and closed the door behind him, twisting the knob once to ensure it was locked.
Once in the hall, he pulled his cell phone free from his jeans, pulling up his address book, he tapped on the name of the person he needed to call.
“Morning, sir,” Richard’s deep voice boomed through the phone. “Need a ride?”
“I do,” Will answered. Descending the last set of stairs, he pushed open the door to the outside of Mila’s building, squinting as the full force of the sun hit his eyes. Using his hand as a shield, he took a look around the unfamiliar neighborhood.
“But I have no damn idea where I am.”
“Queens,” Richard responded. “I tracked you there last night. Look left, I’m at the corner.”
Will glanced down the quiet street, only a handful of people milling about, spotting Richard leaning against his car, the man’s large and hulking frame easily discernible even from this distance.
Shaking his head and smiling, he hung up, pocketed his phone, and took off down the sidewalk.
“I thought you weren’t doing this anymore,” Richard said, smirking.
Wincing, Will lifted his eyes at his driver, who was also his friend—probably the very best friend he’d ever have and the most down-to-earth person he knew. “I’m not,” he insisted. “Starting right now. And can you please, for fuck’s sake, stop calling me ‘sir’!”
Richard tipped an imaginary hat. “Whatever you say, sir…”
Chapter Four
“Mila?”
My name cut through my sleep-addled brain like a blunt knife through a block of crumbling cheese—messy and painful.
Groaning, I rolled over, studiously ignoring the insistent knocking on my bedroom door.
“Mila?”
“Go away!” I called out, pressing my face into my pillow, blocking out the glaring sun. “Just go away!”
The door opened and I listened sulkily as Nikki’s soft footsteps drew closer. The edge of my bed dipped as she took a seat and placed her hand gently on my shoulder. Shrugging her off, I groaned into the pillow. I really wanted to be alone right now.
I had woken an hour or so before feeling awful. My head had been pounding, my throat dry, and my stomach noisily requesting to be fed. I’d stretched and yawned, edging myself into a sitting position before realizing I was naked. And not only had I been naked, but I’d been alone. He’d left at some point while I’d been sleeping.
“How did it go last night?” The bed shifted.
Knowing she wouldn’t be going away anytime soon, at least not until I gave her all the dirty details, I rolled over and faced her. Her face was washed clean of makeup, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She looked nothing like the vixen she had been last night.
“It was amazing,” I mumbled, pushing my messy waves out of my eyes.
“Oh yeah?” Her eyes scanned the room.
“Yeah, he left.” I dragged a hand down my face and groaned. “And I’m so embarrassed.”
Nikki snorted. “He’s supposed to leave! You didn’t want him moving in, did you? I’m just shocked you brought him back here.”
So was I. We had both agreed never to bring anyone home with us—friends or more than friends—for my peace of mind more than anything else.
Sighing, Nikki lay down on the bed beside me, and together we stared up at the ceiling fan.
“I’m really sorry,” I murmured. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Obviously,” she said, laughing. “But that’s sort of the point, isn’t it?” She laughed again.
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling mortified. I had never done this sort of thing before. Now I understood what the walk of shame was, and what it felt like. Only this wasn’t the walk of shame. This was a different sort of shame—the one where you woke to find the man you’d shared one of
the best nights of sex with in your life had left while you were sleeping.
I groaned again and Nikki rubbed my shoulder sympathetically.
“Let’s go out for coffee. We’ll eat donuts and get fat. Then we’ll eat more donuts because we’ll be fat and blame it all on the fact that men suck.” She grinned at me. “It’ll be a never-ending cycle of donuts and man-hating. Sound good? Good.” Rolling off the bed, her hands on her hips, she frowned down at me. “Get up, lazy ass.”
Groaning, I dragged myself out of bed, throwing on underwear, jeans, and a hoodie before heading to the bathroom to quickly brush my teeth. Joining Nikki in our tiny living room, I sat down on one of our mismatched armchairs and slipped into my sneakers.
“I hate you,” I muttered.
“You love me,” she trilled happily.
Scooping up our purses, we headed out into the sunshine, our destination the small café at the end of our block. It was still early, but the streets were already bustling with New York traffic, the sidewalks busy with people going and people coming. When I first moved here I’d hated it—the constant hustle and bustle, the never-ending noise. Here, there was always something happening; it was bright even in the dark, and teeming with life when I’d been nearly dead inside. Most of all, I’d hated it because it had been a constant reminder of how alone I’d felt.
Inside the café, I took a seat by the window while Nikki placed our order, losing my thoughts among the stream of people passing by outside.
“So, spill it,” Nikki said, placing a coffee and a donut in front of me.
I emptied several packets of sugar into my coffee and shrugged. What was there to say? It had been amazing—in fact, I was still sore from just how amazing it had been. But Will clearly didn’t share my feelings of amazement.
“It was a one-night stand, Nik, a one-time thing. There’s nothing to say.”