Revelation: A Contemporary Erotic Romance (Iris Series) (10 page)

A horn blast entered into her consciousness.  She startled from the sound, then pulled her face away and looked around, noticing fellow New Yorkers walking by.  Most completely ignored them, some threw smirks and eye rolls their way.

Shit.  What the hell was she
doing
?  Mike still had his arms locked around her, one hand in her hair, one hand around her waist and resting on her ass, hers still fisted in his dark locks.  They were both breathing heavily.

She snapped her eyes back to his face.  “Let me go.”

“You first.”

She did and his eyes were so filled with lust she nearly staggered back.  Then his face broke into a silly grin and he stepped back as well.  “Do you still wanna walk?” he whispered.

The silence dragged out between them.

“Yes.”  She absolutely needed to walk, now more than ever.

He put out his arm and cocked his head, as if to say
By all means.  Go ahead.

She turned her back on him and began to leave, but he grabbed her by the back of her waistband and yanked her into his front.  “One last thing,” he murmured from behind.

She knew she was flustered when she didn’t even retaliate with a jab to his stomach.  She could’ve caused him all kinds of pain, but instead she allowed him to wrap his arms around her chest from behind, then he leaned down to her ear.  She could feel both of their bodies trembling with barely leashed passion.

“You win this round.  But I think that kiss is proof of how this is gonna go.  I understand that might scare you because it frankly
terrifies
me, but this is gonna happen.  Take some time to think if you need to, but it’s gonna happen, Emily.”  His words were spot on, his tone husky.  “I’ll text you before Monday because I’m gonna pick you up for the barbeque and at some point after that we’re gonna discuss this in a more private setting.”

He turned his head and bit lightly right behind her ear.  Then he inhaled and made an ‘mmm’ sound.

“You always smell like cinnamon,” he said distractedly.

Then he let her go and walked back to his bike. 

……

She had no idea how she’d made it back to her apartment.  She seriously couldn’t remember one detail of the walk back there.  The only details she remembered were the feel of his lips, the scent of his skin, the heat that kicked off of his body, his arms tightly wrapped around her, and
definitely
his erection.  She had been in such a sexual daze after the kiss on the street that she was surprised she didn’t walk right past her building.

He’d said it terrified him.  She didn’t know how to figure that one.  She knew why it terrified her, but why would having sex with her terrify
him
? 

Because you’re gonna suck in bed.

Yeah, but how could he possibly know that?

She shook her head to end the negative talk.  She needed to stop that. 

As she continued to think about his comment, her mind went in another direction.  She didn’t get the impression that he’d been hurt in a relationship so she didn’t think it was that.  After all, he’d implied he’d never been in love before.  The hope and fear she felt when thinking about the other possibilities of his meaning caused her to stop thinking

Okay, Em.  Now you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

Maybe he just said things like that to women and it was another way he reeled them in, making them feel like they were the only woman in the world.

She didn’t want to think that of him.

So to help distract herself, she spent the weekend working like a fiend, trying to rid herself of thoughts, thoughts of the giant dark haired devil who wouldn’t get the hell out of her mind. 

Instead she buried herself in work…she did some paperwork for the law firm where she spent her time working on cases related to education and non-profit.

She emailed the guys she wanted to recruit for the program to give them a heads up on details before her actual conversations with them on Monday.

She caught up with her parents on the phone, then texted her aunt and uncle since they were in the City.

She pampered herself, did her nails and toe nails, got a massage.  She even went and got waxed.   

She didn’t want to analyze that last bit of pampering too carefully, but by Sunday night, not only was she primed and ready to go for Monday, she’d worked out so many times at the Krav Maga studio, her muscles were screaming. 

That was her strategy:  Release the tension as much as you can, otherwise you’ll be so high strung on Monday you won’t be able to control yourself around him. 

And that couldn’t happen.  She needed that control.

She was watching her favorite Sunday HBO lineup when she heard her phone go off.  She reached over and checked the message.

MC: 
What has sugar and spice and everything nice?

She’d wondered if he would follow through with his promise of contacting her.  She smiled.  The message was so dorky.

EW: 
I don’t know, Detective.  What?

MC: 
GCs.  U know.  Ginger cookies. 

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

EW:
Why r u so dorky?  Was there a point to ur text?

MC: 
Be ready tom on corner of W77 and Amst @ 4.

She wasn’t sure she liked that he was calling all the shots.  She hadn’t necessarily agreed to let him take her to the barbeque.  Apparently she’d taken too long to respond because a couple of moments later another text came in.

MC: 
R u arguing w/ urself rt now, Counselor?

She let out a loud laugh.  She wished he couldn’t read her so well.  It was disconcerting to say the least.

EW:
No. I’m arguing w/ u, just in my head.

MC: 
Who’s winning?

EW: 
Ur a pain in the ass.

MC: 
Does that mean I won?

She chuckled.  He could make her so angry and at the same time make her gut laugh.  It was part of his charm, unfortunately.

EW: 
U’ve won nothing.  I’ll be getting another ride on a Harley.  I think I’m the one who’s won.

MC: 
One and won.  Nice use of a homonym, GC.  Or is that a homophone?  I always forget, but I digress.  We both win.  U get a fantastic ride with me in the driver’s seat and I get ur legs wrapped around me.  We get to ride the bike, too. 

She snorted and shook her head.  He was impossible.

EW: 
Nice use of a double entendre, Detective.  Or is that just witty repartee?  I always forget, but I digress.  Maybe it was just another line by a player who’s trying to get laid.

MC: 
Ouch, that hurt.  But I do love our banter, GC.

EW: 
Yes, u’ve mentioned this before.  Have I told u lately that ur an ass?

MC: 
Yes, u’ve mentioned this before.  Have I told u lately that u have a great ass?  I’ll see u at 4.
   

Emily smiled and continued watching her favorite shows, trying to stay focused on the story lines and not rereading her texts. 

It didn’t work. When she went to bed, her focus was even more shot.  She couldn’t fall asleep to save her life, tossing and turning, feeling hot and achy.  She never overheated like this.  It was the family joke that she was always cold and broke out her flannels to wear to bed as soon as September hit.  At the moment, however, she was stripped naked only to continue to toss and turn on the bed in frustration.

Her mind kept
conjuring up the image of the detective.  Without his shirt.  Rolling around with him having him rub all over her.  His clean smell.  Nestling himself between her legs.  Pressing into her.

And that kiss.  His hand in her hair and the other gripping her ass.  The way he consumed her mouth, never relenting, just licking.  Nibbling.  Sucking.

She tossed again, flopping her head on the pillow, pounding her fist into it to get it just so.  All of her workouts from the weekend didn’t come close to relieving the tension she still felt.  She just kept thinking about the kiss, her hands fisted in his hair.

His taste.

Her hand had begun moving of its own volition, skating up her stomach and teasing her nipple.  She jumped at the sensation, already so sensitive from the memory of him.  As she stroked it, her other hand journeyed to between her legs.

A soft sigh escaped her lips when she found herself dripping wet, her core waiting to be touched.  Another moan sounded from the back of her throat as she spread her arousal all over her sex then end
ed on her overly sensitized clit.  While her fingers worked herself toward a climax, she pictured Mike in her head and closed her eyes, pushing her hips up into her hand while opening her legs wider and wider.

She groaned and pinched at her nipple, then exploded.  She let out a keening sound, stiffening and riding out her release until she was gasping on the bed for more air to fill her lungs. 

As she drifted off to sleep, she had one final conscious thought float into her mind before finding oblivion: 
I’m gonna have sex with Michael Callahan.

……

The next day Emily finished some more legal work and then dressed for the barbeque.  She chose a pair of slim cut navy blue capris, a raspberry colored sleeveless top and a short fitted jean jacket.  On her feet she wore her Tommy Hilfiger high heeled nude colored espadrille wedges with ribbons that tied up the length of her ankle.  She left her hair down and wavy, her dirty blonde tresses just hitting past her shoulders, then played up her eyes when putting on her makeup.  She wound an elastic band around her wrist to help throw her hair up before putting the helmet on.  She also chose to wear her contacts.  She loved her glasses, but didn’t want them to get in the way of the helmet.

She opted not to bring a purse but rather chose a wallet sized clutch that only held a credit card, license, her phone and lip gloss.  It fit in her front pocket and she was good to go.

She looked one more time at the clock and took a deep breath.  What was she doing?  Should she even be considering this liaison with the detective? 

Yes, you absolutely should.

But I’m NOT going to sleep with him tonight. 

Keep telling yourself that, Emily.

What she’d said in her text last night was true.  She wasn’t necessarily arguing with herself.  It was more like the little devil and angel on her shoulders duking it out to see who would end up the victor.
And he was definitely the devil in this scenario.

She was determined to hold the cards if this affair ever came to pass.  She wouldn’t let him twist her up and make her want him just because he was gorgeous and fun to be with.  He was a player and it would be good for her to remember that.  She’d been hurt by a player once before.  She steeled herself, grabbed the wine she was bringing then headed down to the street.

He pulled up a little after four o’clock, slowing down next to her on the sidewalk.  He turned off the bike and flipped his visor up so he could talk.  Taking a moment to look at her, he smiled. 

Her strategy from the weekend apparently hadn’t worked because she felt like she hadn’t released one ounce of tension in the last two days.  He was dressed in faded Levi’s, a white button down hanging loose outside his jeans and his black combat boots.  The man looked good.

“Hey, you.  Ready to ride?”

She cocked her head at him and smirked.  She was glad he hadn’t mentioned the kiss or the texts.  She had been second guessing her flirting all morning.  Finally, she nodded and spoke.

“Is there room in the back panel of the bike for this?” she asked, indicating the wine.

“Yeah, I have some back there too.”  His voice dropped to a whisper, dripping with a lecherous tone.  “I’ll make it fit.  I’m good at using my hands to manipulate things so that they fit into tight spaces.”

She glared at him and he leaned back as if she was going to hit him.  His eyes were twinkling.

“That was both a double entendre and witty repartee, I believe.”

“No, Detective.  I’m afraid that was just a really bad joke,” she said dryly.  “I can just hold the wine.”

“I’ll make it fit, and don’t hit me,” he said quickly.  “I’m serious, just give it to me.  I’ll squeeze it in there.”  He chuckled.

Once the bottles were in the back of the bike, they both put on their helmets.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

“I can.”  He cranked up the bike and he grabbed back for her hands to wrap them around his torso.  Giving her fingers one last stroke, he put his hands back on the handlebars and they were off to the barbeque.

……

The quaint tree lined streets of the West Village, along with its small European town vibe, trend setting boutiques, and hip restaurants made this particular area on the lower West Side of Manhattan a favorite for both native New Yorkers and tourists alike. 

Jeremy McCallister and Ryann Thornton lived in a brownstone in this beautiful area of the City, and their home was fast becoming the gathering place for the friends when they had big soirees.