Why Not Tonight Page 10

  She won the first game. “We’ll play two more rounds,” she said, “with the winners advancing to the finals.”

  “Uh-huh. So I’ll be going home early.”

  “We all will be,” Wynn said with a grin. Then she touched Jasper’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get something at the bar. On our way, we’ll discuss ways to end Natalie’s reign of terror.”

  Natalie grinned as they left. When they were out of earshot, she leaned close to Ronan.

  “So what do you think? Are they a couple? I mean, I think they are, but Wynn never says anything and I don’t want to ask.”

  “Since when? You ask me personal questions all the time.”

  “That’s totally different. Wynn’s one of my girlfriends. I have to respect her personal space.”

  “But not mine?”

  “Not really.”

  She was tantalizingly close. He wanted to move that last inch and kiss her. But they were in public, and when he made his move, he wanted them to be alone.

  “Who is Jasper? He seems familiar.”

  Her brows rose. “You don’t know his face—it’s his name. He’s a writer. His books are thrillers and you’ve probably read them.”

  The information clicked into place. “I have. He’s great.”

  “Are you going to go all fan-boy? I’m not sure how Jasper will react. Maybe it will be a sweet moment for both of you.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I am funny.”

  She was a lot of things, he thought as he stared into her eyes. Pretty and sweet and sexy. The kind of sexy that made a man ache all over.

  “Am I interrupting?” Wynn asked as she returned to the table. “You two are looking intense.”

  Ronan straightened, not sure what to say. Natalie grinned at her friend.

  “We were talking about you and Jasper, wondering if you were a couple.”

  So much for respecting a friend’s personal space, Ronan thought with a chuckle.

  “It’s an interesting question,” Wynn said serenely. “Now if only there were an answer.”

  * * *

  NATALIE MADE IT to the final round only to have an unexpectedly bad couple of games. She wasn’t sure how she’d become so distracted. It might have been the second glass of wine—something she rarely indulged in—or maybe the blame lay with not having Ronan sitting next to her.

  She’d thought it was impossible to concentrate when the man was right there—breathing, talking, laughing. She’d been aware of everything. Of his broad shoulders, of how she could almost feel the heat from his body, of the way he had of looking at her as if she were the most interesting person in the room. It was a heady combination. Yet when she’d moved on to the final round and he hadn’t, he’d left. Just like that, and she’d had, well, nothing.

  The whole evening was confusing. While they’d been playing, she would have sworn he was interested in her. She’d tried to tell herself not to read too much into his attention. After all, he’d turned her down before. Yet she couldn’t help thinking, wishing, that he were a little bit interested. But then he’d left and she’d realized she must have misread everything.

  What was it about that man? Why him and why did he get to her the way he did?

  She crossed the street and walked to her converted house. The front door opened onto a small foyer with three mailboxes, a table for packages, the doors to the two downstairs apartments and a staircase leading up to her larger apartment. She’d barely taken the first step up when she became aware that, despite the late hour, she was not alone. But before her breath could catch or she could start to panic, she recognized the man sitting halfway up the stairs. Recognized his light brown hair, green eyes and faint smile. When her heart rate picked up again, it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with anticipation.

  “Ronan?”

  He stood. “I thought you’d be longer.”

  “I didn’t make it past the final first round.”

  He waited until she reached his stair, then took her hand in his and led her to her front door. She unlocked it and they both stepped inside her apartment.

  She had no idea what she was supposed to say or do. Offer him a beverage? Ask what was wrong? Throw herself at him and beg him to take her? The latter was the most intriguing but she couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d turned her down. He’d been kind and gentle, but it had still been a no.

  “So, ah, why are you here?” she asked.

  He shoved his hands into his jeans front pockets. “I was waiting for you. I meant what I said before—at my place. I couldn’t do anything while you were my guest. You’re not anymore and I can’t stop thinking about you, about what it was like having you in my house. Your invitation haunts me. I keep reliving our kiss and wanting to do it again. That and more. I want you, Natalie.”

  Oh. My. God! No one had ever said anything like that to her before. No one had ever been so blunt, just putting it out there.

  Deep inside, she felt a shiver, then another until she was trembling. She felt herself melting before he’d even touched her and wished she had something sophisticated or badass to say in return, but all she could muster was “Me, too.”

  Which, it turned out, was enough.

  He reached for her, pulling her hard against him. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth claimed hers with a delicious power that left her gasping. His tongue teased hers even as his hands began to roam her body.

  Everywhere he touched, she burned. Wanting exploded, shocking her with intensity and need. She’d always been a slow-build kind of girl. The sluttiest thing she’d ever done in her life had been to offer herself to Ronan a few nights ago and look how that had ended. Only now he was kissing her as if he couldn’t possibly get enough.

  He sucked on her lower lip before kissing her again even deeper than before. At the same time, he tugged on the hem of her shirt. Instinctively, she raised her arms so he could pull it off. Once it was gone, he ran his warm hands up and down her back before unfastening her bra and tugging it free of her body.

  She barely had time to register her partial nakedness before his hands cupped her full breasts and began to massage them. Pleasure shot through her, making her whimper. It had been about a zillion years since she’d been with a man. Having that man be Ronan only intensified the experience.

  He drew back enough to stare at her bare breasts. His eyes dilated and he swore softly, then dropped his head so he could take one of her hard nipples in his mouth. There was no elegant licking, nothing that tender. Instead he sucked hard, then used his teeth to lightly abrade her aroused flesh.

  Her body’s reaction was fast and to the point. Heat burned from her breast to her groin, leaving her barely able to stand. She groaned and cupped his head, encouraging him to do the same on her other breast.

  “Just like that,” she whispered, unable to stop herself from talking. “Like that, Ronan. Harder!”

  He followed directions perfectly, going back and forth, sucking and nipping until she started to feel pressure build between her legs. Good pressure, the kind that told her she was alive and well and going to have an orgasm very shortly.

  Without warning, he pulled back and dropped to his knees. He unfastened her jeans as she toed out of her loafers. Seconds later, her jeans and panties were on the floor and he was easing her back onto the entryway table.

  The lamp wobbled. He set it on the floor, used his fingers to part the very center of her, then placed his tongue on her clit. For a second, that was it, just the pressure. Then he began to move. First back and forth, then in a circle that went around and over, again and again, until she was nothing but a quivering nerve begging to be satisfied.

  The sensations were as intense as they were wonderful. She parted her legs as far as she could and hung on to the table to keep herself balanced in her half sitting, half sta
nding position. Ronan didn’t move any faster, but he pressed harder, pushing her closer and closer.

  They were in her foyer, a voice whispered. She was naked and he had yet to take off a stitch. She should be ashamed of—

  “I want this,” she said aloud, silencing the voices.

  Ronan chuckled. “Me, too,” he said before pressing his tongue against her again. He moved just a little faster, pressed a little harder. It was too good, too much for her to resist. She tried to hold back, to keep it lasting just a little longer, but it was—

  “Now,” she breathed as the first wave hit. “Like that. Exactly like that. Oh, Ronan, I can’t stop...” She sucked in a breath, then let it out, only instead of air, there was something very close to a scream as her body surrendered and she came and came and came.

  Her orgasm went on for hours. Or maybe a minute, but it felt like hours in the best way possible. Ronan stayed with her, making sure she got to the end. When she finally stilled, he stood, pulled her to her feet and hustled her down the hall to her bedroom.

  She was kind of in a daze and only vaguely aware of what he was doing, so it was a bit of a shock when she turned and saw he was already naked and reaching in his pocket for a condom.

  While she knew she should be impressed that he’d, ah, come prepared, she was more interested in how he looked naked. He was muscled and masculine, broad-shouldered and fully aroused. At the sight of his erection, she felt a little zing of anticipation.

  She stretched out on the bed and held open her arms. “You can just go for it, if you want.”

  His gaze locked with hers. She read his desperate hunger and knew she’d said exactly the right thing. She smiled.

  “I mean that.”

  “Thank God.”

  He put on the condom, then joined her on the bed. After settling between her knees, he eased himself inside of her. She raised her hips to take all of him, then sighed as he began to move.

  Yes, she thought happily. This was exactly right. Familiar pressure began. Slow and low, but there. She shifted a little to change the angle, hoping to get over the edge again.

  “Natalie, touch your breasts.”

  Her eyes popped open and she found him watching her. What? Touch her...

  “Please.”

  She’d always been kind of big on top and knew that some guys liked that, but she’d never thought that Ronan was a breast guy. She felt a little shy, but figured he’d made her scream, so she owed him.

  She cupped her breasts in her hands and watched as his gaze settled on her chest. He continued to move in and out, going just a little faster. She moved her hands slightly, then squeezed her nipples. He groaned, which was fun, but she also felt a little jolt deep inside. What?

  She did it again, harder this time. The jolt was bigger, deeper, and she suddenly got a whole lot closer. What had started as a show for him became a lot more interesting. She stroked her breasts, played with her nipples and found herself on the verge.

  “You’re killing me,” he muttered.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips. “I’m there, Ronan. Seriously, like two fast strokes and I—”

  He groaned, seemed to gather himself, then shoved into her hard and fast, pushing her over the edge. She grabbed his hips, pulling him in as far as she could, then lost herself in her release. He continued to thrust in and out for a couple more seconds, then stilled as he came.

  * * *

  RONAN HADN’T DARED to imagine what it would be like to be with Natalie, which turned out to be a good thing. There was no way his imagination was up to the task. She was sexy and beautiful and curvy and about the hottest woman he’d ever seen, let alone made love with. She was uninhibited in a way he never would have guessed, and when she had her orgasm, it was the most incredible thing ever.

  As they began to breathe normally and their heart rates slowed from hummingbird levels, his mind cleared just enough for him to think about how much he wanted her again. He wondered if it were possible to get enough.

  She snuggled close and sighed. “Wow. Just wow.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, please. You know it was good. Do you need me to say the words? The screams weren’t enough?”

  “The screams were pretty good. And a bit of a surprise.”

  “For me, too.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you.”

  “And wow?”

  He kissed her nose and smiled. “Big wow.”

  She looked at him. “So, you’re a breast man. I never would have guessed.”

  His gaze dropped to her chest. “I’ve never been into one specific body part before, but you have the most stunning breasts I’ve ever seen.”

  They were large and perfectly shaped. Or maybe it was her nipples or maybe it was just because they were hers. He had a vision of her on top, bouncing along as she rode him, and he went instantly hard. Fortunately they’d pulled up the sheet and she didn’t notice. It was one thing to be enthused, but another to be desperate.

  She glanced at the clock. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I didn’t get dinner and I’m starving. The Chinese place is open for another twenty minutes. Do you want me to call in an order for the two of us?”

  Or do you want to go?

  She didn’t ask that part of the question, but he could read it in the faint worry in her eyes. In the two years he’d known Natalie, he’d never heard her talk about a guy. He had a feeling she didn’t play the field and wasn’t into one-night stands. Something he should have thought of before, because he didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing—or wanted—except he knew he didn’t want to go home. Not yet.

  “Chinese sounds great.”

  She scrambled out of bed. “I have the number in my cell phone. Anything you don’t like?”

  She wasn’t wearing anything and made no attempt to cover herself. He studied her curves, her full breasts and belly, her legs, and knew he had to have her again. She was lush and feminine and totally sexual.

  “Ronan?”

  “Get your favorites. I’m sure I’ll like them, too.”

  “Okay.”

  She walked out of the room, giving him a view of her perfect ass. He swore softly, then began to dress. Once dinner was over, he promised himself, they were going to do it and she was for sure going to be on top.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GOING OUT IN the relatively cool night did little to tamp down Ronan’s desire. Just having Natalie next to him in his truck was enough to get him going again. But he was determined to get through the meal without acting like some horny kid who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

  She tucked the big bag of takeout next to her feet and grinned at him. “I’m starving.”

  Her smile was infectious, her air of sexual satisfaction gratifying. He liked knowing he’d pleased her. More than pleased her, he thought smugly.

  “Just to be clear, I know that wasn’t baby sex,” she said as he drove back to her place.

  Shock nearly had him driving into a tree. “What?”

  “From the app. It wasn’t at all and I just wanted you to know.”

  That damned app. He’d totally forgotten about it. “Thanks for the share.”

  “Don’t be grumpy. You would have thought of it eventually and totally freaked out.”

  “I don’t freak out.”

  “Have you seen you? Because you do. But it’s okay. I like you, anyway.”

  A baby. Damn. She knew how to break a mood. Not that he didn’t still want her, but the need was about 20 percent less intense.

  They arrived back at her place. He carried the food upstairs and waited while she unlocked the door. This time he got a good look at her apartment, only to grin when his gaze settled on the lamp sitting on the floor by the entry table. He carefully put it back in place, then glanced around.


  The floor plan was surprisingly open. Living room, eating area and kitchen were basically one big room. She’d painted each of the walls a different color, which should have been chaotic, but was surprisingly pleasing to the eye. The door and window trim was uniformly pale lavender. Her living room sofa was oversize and done in a neutral medium brown, and the area rug pulled together all the colors.

  Paintings and mixed-media pieces were everywhere. Some he recognized as her work; others were from artists he didn’t know.

  He carried the food to the kitchen and put it on the counter.

  “There’s wine in a rack in the entry closet,” she said as she collected plates and flatware. “Don’t worry. It’s stuff you and your brothers have given me.”

  “I trust your taste in wine,” he said as he opened the closet and saw all the bottles Natalie had been given over the past couple of years. Bottles that celebrated sales of her work or her birthday.

  “You might trust my taste but you’d wince at my wine budget,” she said with a laugh when they met up in the kitchen. She showed him where the corkscrew was and pointed to the location of the wineglasses.

  After opening the bottle, he carried it and two glasses to the small dining table by the window. She’d already set out plates, which he recognized as his brother’s design. But these were mismatched and obviously bought at Mathias’s semiannual sale where his “mistakes” were offered at discount prices.

  He poured wine while she opened cartons of Chinese food. The smell made his mouth water and reminded him he’d missed dinner.

  “I already like what you chose,” he told her.

  She grinned. “There’s plenty of garlic, but I have a spare toothbrush I’m willing to let you have.”

  He chuckled. “You’re on.”

  They sat across from each other, with her facing the kitchen and him facing the living room. It was only then he noticed a blown-glass piece on a shelf in the corner.

  It was a swirl of color—all blues and lavenders with a touch of gold. What was supposed to have been a vase had collapsed into a molten mess. He tried to remember when that had happened—maybe a year ago. Before the swan/dragon commission for sure.