(Indigo Lounge #3) Spiral (3 page)

There was something in the way she stared at him that made his cock harden. Or hell, it may have been because she had one of the most sinful mouths he’d ever seen. Plump, wide and painted suck-me red, it was so damned potently sexy, he forgot his own name for several seconds.

He’d spotted her the moment she walked in behind the blond guy who looked like he wanted to devour her whole.

With her attention caught by the spectacular ceiling display of the Ozone Bar, Noah had a moment to study her, his beer bottle frozen halfway to his mouth.

Her side crop, shaved in a swathe above her left ear, exposing the delicate shell of her ear had surprised him. There was something bold about it but also sexy in a way that made Noah who’d had never given much thought to things like that stop to appreciate the sexiness of it.

He’d watch her stumble. Watched the valet catch her and crack a joke. Her smile had made liquid go down the wrong way. Noah had barely stopped himself from coughing up his lungs and wheezing like a frickin’ hormonal teenager.

He continued to stare at her, a part of him silently incredulous that he was actually seeing the woman in front of him.

To think he’d almost given up finding someone who could take the edge off his hunger. He’d intended to finish his beer and return to his suite. Alone. Because of the six single female guests he’d met in the bar so far, none even came close to tweaking his interest. And the thought of settling on a willing female just to get himself off had made bile rise in his gut.

But now...

Jesus
, when was the last time he’d felt this excited just
looking
at a woman?

A woman who returned his stare boldly without turning away, almost as if she was as mesmerized with him as he was with her. A look that portrayed nothing but naked interest.

He discarded the beer and took a step toward her.

She raised her glass of champagne a fraction, as if to take a sip. Or it may have been a tiny toast to what was happening between them. It paused just below her lips, drawing his attention again to the fullness of her glossy mouth. The ends tilted upward in a saucy curve that just begged to be tasted and his breath fractured as he imagined doing just that. And a whole lot more.

Need pounded through him as he rounded the bar. Vaguely he saw her valet’s gaze swing his way and back to her.

A dark emotion fizzed through his veins at the thought of the other man laying any sort of claim on her. “Excuse us,” he said without taking his eyes from hers.

The blond guy cleared his throat. “Umm, sure. Have a good evening, Miss Michaels.”

Irrationally, the thought that this guy knew her name and Noah didn’t irritated the hell out of him. Noah compelled her not to look at the other guy. Not to look at anyone but him.

Her lips parted but no words emerged. His irritation abated a little when the valet took the hint and walked away. Her scent drifted into Noah, a mixture of crushed lilies and designer perfume. He breathed in deep and felt his pulse thunder.

He closed the gap between them until he could see the color of her eyes.

Grey, with a touch of blue. So wide. So alluring. He’d always thought that only soppy morons confessed to wanting to get lost in woman’s eyes.

But hell, he wanted to
die
in her eyes.

The DJ upped the tempo of the music. She jerked and swallowed, awareness of her surroundings suddenly swimming into her eyes, threatening to break the moment. Her lids started to lower.

The sense of impending loss hit him hard.

“Don’t look away.”

She blinked and shook her head. Swathes of hair fell over her shoulder, caressing her bare skin. “I’m sorry. It’s not polite of me to stare like this.”

Her voice was low, husky with the emotions slamming around inside her. The same emotions that were roaring through his bloodstream. He didn’t need to close his eyes to hear that voice, that mouth hovering over his skin, kissing him in places that made his cock jerk to vivid life in his pants. His brain was firing up scenarios just from the sound of her voice alone. Scenarios that pleased and frightened him at the same time.

“Why not? Stare all you want because I sure as hell am not about to apologize for staring at you.”

Her cute nose twitched and he could’ve sworn she leaned in a tiny bit closer. Hell, he may have been deluding himself but he liked to think that she did.

“Perhaps I possess better manners than you,” she said without looking away.

“I wouldn’t wholly disagree with you on that. But as much as it would shame my mother to know I was being rude to a lady, I can’t seem to help myself.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks and Noah barely stopped himself from groaning. He watched her long, dark painted fingers clutch her glass firmer and his gaze flicked back to her face. He didn’t want to dwell on what damage those nails could do to his back. His butt. He didn’t want to think about them leaving marks all over his body. Not just yet.

She was still watching him with that mixture of intrigue and hunger that made his pulse race. God, did she even know what she was doing? How she was stoking fires he was almost too afraid to let roar into life?

“Well, I guess, since there’s nothing wrong with just looking...” she murmured.

“And we have each other’s permission?” he pressed. Not that he intended to let the lack of it stop him. His senses were intent on visually devouring this woman. The actual devouring would come later.

Her eyes widened a fraction. “Yes, I guess...”

“Well, okay then.” His gaze dropped to linger on her mouth, biding his time. He wanted to savor the journey, imprint each of her features on his excited senses so he could visualize them later. When several images of what he could do to her mouth flashed through his brain in quick succession, Noah deemed it wise to move on.

His gaze slid down to her throat. Her skin glowed like warm silk–like most native Miamians she probably spent time in the sun. Would she have tan lines or did she indulge in the ultimate sun worship?

Move on before you made an idiot of yourself, King.

Her sleeveless white lace top was tight and stretched across her breasts, emphasizing the small mounds.

Small pert breasts.

He filed that observation away and travelled lower. He froze.

Dear God, she was wearing leather. Skintight leather that lovingly molded her slim hips and lean, muscular thighs and calves.

His gaze reached her heeled feet and traced a path back up her body. The second run was even better than the first.

Small breasts and leather. Two of his major weaknesses.

The throbbing that had started in this groin the moment he laid eyes on her roared into a bona fide pounding.

Through the loud speaker the pop version of John Legend’s
All Of Me
filled the room.

Noah looked back up in time to see her conducting a blatant survey or her own. Her eyes went from his face, to his chest, his abs all the way to his feet. Then back up.

Her eyes stopped and lingered on his crotch. Her cheeks reddened a little more at the blatant evidence of his arousal, but she didn’t move her gaze. That little nose twitched again and puff of breath left her lips.

This time he couldn’t stop the rough sound that burst through his throat.

Reaching out, he plucked the glass from her fingers and set it on the counter. His fingers brushed hers in the process and she jerked.

“You’re being rude again.”

Noah shrugged. “You didn’t seem all that interested in the drink. Besides, it’s more warm than chilled right now and champagne should be drank immediately or the joy goes out of it.”

Jesus
, was he really standing here discussing the perfect drinking temperature of champagne like some snooty blue-blood? His ex had been the one who’d concerned herself with social etiquette bullshit like that—not that he couldn’t hold his own when it mattered. But beer was his preferred drink of choice. Or ultra expensive single malt whiskey when the occasion called for it.

“I’m sure I had another five minutes before it went flat.” She looked at the glass but made no move to pick it back up.

Legend crooned about
curves and edges
. Noah struggled not to check out her curves just one more time.

“Dance with me,” he said abruptly.

What the hell?
He hated dancing. Hadn’t come remotely close to a dance floor since senior prom. And that had been because he’d wanted to soften Emily Bianchini up a little before he taught that cock-teasing princess a hard fucking - pun intended - lesson at the back of his hired limo.

But short of grabbing her delicate wrist and dragging her off to a dark corner to explore those incredible curves, this was his best solution. He couldn’t stand this close and not touch. Dancing gave him an excuse to touch. Because he had to put his hands on her...make sure that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

She shook her head. “I don’t dance. Sorry.” The apology was tacked on, almost as an afterthought.

He suppressed a smile. “Neither do I. But if we stand here any longer eyeballing one another, something will catch fire. And at thirty thousand feet, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

She laughed. He caught a flash of silver.

Noah was pretty sure his vision blurred for several seconds. His breath whistled through his teeth as his brain computed what he was seeing.

A stud.

She had a fucking tongue piercing
. The thought of what that silver stud could do to his cock froze his thought processes, then blitzed anticipated pleasure though his already-roaring bloodstream.

When he refocused she was staring straight at him, the laughter wiped from her face. Fresh hunger slammed into his gut then clenched tight in a vice as he saw the awareness in her eyes.

“Dance,” he croaked.

“Yes.”

The dance floor was set in a larger circle around the room, making the bar the focal point. Several guests were in the “getting to know each other” process, some a little further along than others.

One of the women he’d considered a possible candidate, a statuesque redhead with enough experience in her eyes to make any guy contemplate a session between the sheets with her, glanced his way. Her gaze swung to his companion and she raised an eyebrow at him.

Noah ignored her. She wouldn’t have interested him for more than a few hours anyway.

Whereas the woman whose scent continued to linger in his nostrils...

He turned abruptly, already starved of the sight of her.

She was right behind him, her gaze seeking and finding his. Elation and deep anticipation roared through him. He stepped closer, ready to take her in his arms.

She raised a hand. “Wait.”

The imperious command wasn’t what made him freeze. It was the brief panic that slid over her face.

What the hell?

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I will be. I just...I just need to initiate contact first. Do you mind?”

Shock slammed into him. Followed swiftly by realization that
a,
he didn’t mind, and
b,
she wasn’t really asking him but telling him.

He found himself nodding, every atom in his body on edge and intrigued. “Go for it.”

She licked her lower lip and stepped close. Propriety would’ve dictated that she placed her hand on his shoulder. Or his waist.

Instead she splayed her fingers over his belly. His breath hissed out as heat exploded from the point of her touch.

He stood rock still and let her fingers drifted upward over his chest between his pecs and up the side of his neck. He had no idea what was going on here. But hell if he didn’t want to stand there and keep living it.

The sensation was tortuous. And exquisitely pleasurable in ways he hadn’t experienced for a very long time. If ever.

The song ended and a new, equally suggestive, song took its place. He grew harder as she continued to explore him. Her fingers grazed his shoulder and one forefinger drifted down the side of his neck.

Fuck.

“Honey, if we’re going to dance, we need to get on with it. Before I give in to the urge to eat you alive, right here right now.”

His words plucked her from a dream-state. Eyes turned stormy met his and Noah barely managed to suppress the need to bare his teeth in visible hunger at the need pounding through him.

She nodded and started to sway before him. He remained stock-still, unable to take his eyes from her body as she moves sinuously.

Eventually she noticed he wasn’t moving and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to touch you now. Is that okay?”

“Oh. Yes.”

Her finger caressed his neck again. He reached for her, his arms curving over her small waist to bring her closer. She felt warm, soft and firm in all the right places. But he wanted more.

“I’m going to pull you closer.” Like her he wasn’t asking for permission.

“That’s...that’s fine.”

He tugged her into his body. She exhaled sharply and her breath washed his neck. This close with her heels on, she came up to his chin. Without them she would be tiny.

The perfect fuckable handful.

He brought his other hand to her chin and tilted her face up with a finger. “Tell me your name.”

“It’s Leia. Leia Michaels.”

“I’m Noah King. Is there anything else I need to know about you before we get to the eating alive part? I’m especially interested in any steps I can skip because I have a feeling I’ll need to get there quickly.”

––––––––

T
he rough, implacable demand fired another shot of excitement up her spine. Beneath her fingers his pulse throbbed sure, steady and fast, although not as fast as hers. Hers had taken a wild turn the moment his voice had collided with his indescribable hotness, and it showed no signs of abating anytime soon.

Noah King.

His name was manly. Commanding. She heard herself silently repeating it and pressed her lips together. She didn’t trust herself not to say it out loud. To test it. To taste it.

A load of shock jerked through her. Not enough to stop her from swaying against him. Or perhaps she just couldn’t help it; had lost control of her body just like she’d felt her mind going when she set eyes on him.