Street Safe (6 page)

He drifted a hand down the curve of her spine over the swell of her behind to squeeze her lush apple bottom. He urged her closer, molding her to his erection. Maybe they could skip dinner.

As if sensing her thoughts he broke the kiss. “You have such delicious lips,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear.

He held her within the security of his embrace a moment longer. She rested her head against his shoulder. Somehow being locked in his arms seemed so right. When he released her, she stepped back, smoothing a trembling hand down the front of her short skirt.

She noted how his heated perusal followed her movements and she relished the scrutiny.

“I thought red was your color, but I love this dress.”

Na’arah inclined her head. Tonight she’d chosen a simple ivory scooped neck dress that accented her slim waist and showed off her legs. The garment covered more than it revealed, with its elbow length sleeves and short hemline. Wide gold cuff bracelets, dangly earrings and strappy sandals completed her ensemble.

“These are for you.” He held out the flowers.

“Thank you.”

Street grasped her elbow and led her to a dark green Durango. “We have reservations at one of my favorite restaurants.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Here? In town?”

He flashed her an enigmatic smile while holding open her door. Once she was safely seated in the passenger seat, Street closed the door and made his way to the driver’s side.

“Nope. Not here in town.”

Thirty-three minutes later they were being shown to booth 81 inside Weber’s restaurant. Heavy maroon drapes framed the white linen clad table and for a moment she wondered if the ties could be removed. A small chandelier cast muted illumination on the waiting crystal goblets and monogramed silverware. Faded oil paintings graced the walls.

The hostess handed them menus then walked away.

“I’ve never been here,” Na’arah said opening her menu.

“Weber’s is fairly well known for its prime rib.”

She nodded and glanced around. “I like the curtains.”

A sly smile teased the corners of his mouth and her pulse jerked in response. Conversations buzzed above the clink of silverware against china. He couldn’t possibly think they could do anything naughty in the booth and not get caught.

He covered her hand with his, swirling circles on her skin and leaned closer. “Wouldn’t it be interesting to find out how far we could go?”

Having sex in his office while the bar was open was one thing, but getting frisky in a restaurant was another. Tension built with each swipe of his fingertips. She shifted on the seat. So far he was making up for his earlier behavior.

Street brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed the tips. His gaze never wavered from her face. She sucked in a breath. Her nipples pebbled and pushed against the material of her dress, sensitizing the peaks even more. All he’d done was kiss her fingers. She crossed her legs in an attempt to quell the ache between her thighs.

“I—we—you really thought there was someone else?”

“Auggie makes a habit of collecting women.”

“He totally does and I refused to be part of his harem. I have no idea what my sister saw in him.” She shook her head. “If I was involved with him or anybody else I’d have told you.”

She studied him, he seemed to visibly relax. Curious, she allowed her gaze to linger on his handsome features. He was bald and her fingers longed to graze his scalp. A faded scar added to the character of his angular face. Any woman would be proud to have him escort her for the evening, so why would he think otherwise?

“You bought the spa?”

She nodded. “Seemed like a good idea, at the time.”

“Now you don’t think so?”

“Just nerves, I guess.” She offered him a sheepish smile. “Give me a few weeks and I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“I’ll do that.”

****

Just before dessert was served Na’arah excused herself to go to the ladies rooms. On the way she plucked her phone from her bag, which had been vibrating most of the evening and scrolled through the messages. She paused in the vestibule and dialed the number.

“Where are you?”

“I’m on a date. What’s going on?” She glanced over her shoulder.

A heavy sigh tickled her ear. “I’m in a bit of a jam.”

She held a breath, listening for pings, bells and whistles in the background. Hearing none she slowly exhaled. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sitting outside a casino, Arah. There’s a poker tournament tonight. Huge payoff.”

A momentary flutter of panic surged through her belly. She volunteered for some of the local support groups and if Derrick was calling her, that meant he couldn’t get in touch with his normal sponsor. Thankfully, she knew enough of what he was dealing with to guide him, hopefully, in the right direction.

“Okay, Der. You can get through this. You calling me is proof that you can beat this. All you have to do is drive away.”

His throaty chuckled sounded forced. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is.”

“But it’s just so fucking hard.”

Her heart clenched. “I know, but how long has it been since you gambled?”

“Three years, eleven months and thirteen days.”

“So we let’s celebrate when we make it to four.”

Another heavy sigh was her answer.

“Why do you need the payoff?”

“You sound like my fucking shrink.”

She giggled and descended the stairs. Her voice sounded hollow and bounced off the tiled walls when she entered the bathroom. “I’ve been called worse. Is business okay?”

“It’s picked up a bit, but the rain is hampering some of my larger landscaping projects. All I need are a few sunny days and I can haul ass to get things done.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“All right.” An engine roared to life and she smiled. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good. When you get back, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I get enough of those already. Thanks for listening.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” She hurried to use the bathroom.

****

Street sipped his water and studied Na’arah as she approached the table. All throughout dinner she’d tried to ask him about his previous relationships, but each time he avoided the question and she took the hint.

This was one woman he wanted for himself, but what did he have to keep her? Feeling so adamant about one woman shook him. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time and to feel this way about someone so beautiful and desirable left him a little breathless. He hadn’t had a serious relationship since before his injury. Not that he had wanted one. And now that he was considering one, old insecurities surfaced. What if he wasn’t enough?

Still, as he focused on the milk chocolate smoothness of her shapely legs and curvy hips, he wanted to forget the past and concentrate on the now. He set down his glass and stood. A question filled her eyes, while her lips creased in a ghost of a smile.

The answer was simple, he wanted to dance with her. Fast tempo songs made it nearly impossible to keep up, but a slow number, like the one playing now, was perfect for holding her against him and feeling all her sensuous curves.

Her eyes widened as he closed the distance between them. He cupped her elbow, led her to the dance floor, and swept her into his arms.

For a moment, he thought she would resist, but she followed his steps as if they’d danced together every day of their lives. The easy tempo dictated the erotic sway of his hips and he skimmed a hand down the curve of her hip to hold her a little closer. He relaxed.

With a sigh, Na’arah leaned her head on his shoulder and he brought her closer still. Each step brought his thigh in contact with hers, while her hip rubbed against his erection. He lowered his hand to the swell of her voluptuous rear to hold her in place. She trembled in his arms.

“I just want you all to myself,” he murmured near her ear. He trailed his fingers along her spine.

She smiled up at him. “I don’t have plans and I wouldn’t mind seeing you again.”

Pleasure stole through him at her admission. “C’mon, let’s finish what we started the other night.”

Na’arah had to smile as he led her from the restaurant, through the lobby to a waiting elevator. He held her hand, swirling tiny circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Each stroke only fanned the flames of her desire.

The doors opened and a moment later they stood outside their room. Anticipation gripped her. Would this time around be rushed or would he insist on snapping her panties off her again?

“What are you grinning about?” He ushered her inside and pressed her against the wall.

Coolness kissed her bare back, while Street warmed her front. “I was just thinking about the last time and how my poor g-string suffered.”

He smirked. “I’d apologize, but I might do it again.”

“No need for that.” She lifted her arms and rested her palms on his chest.

He skimmed his hands down her waist, the curve of her hips until he gripped the hem of her dress. Slowly he inched the material upward, coaxing her thighs apart with his knee. Street lowered his head until his lips hovered a breath above hers.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about the way you taste.” He feathered his lips over hers.

The tenderness in his kiss stole her breath. This wasn’t like the last time, this was something deeper, more potent than lust alone. She curled her fingers in his shirt even as he raised her dress higher. He left her mouth to explore the smooth column of her throat. She tilted her head to give him better access and bit back a moan when he found the sensitive spot just below her ear.

Lightening flashed through her veins until desire tightened her nipples and her juices slicked her thighs. And he’d done nothing more than kiss her.

“Your skin is pure temptation.” As if to prove his point he tugged her dress from one shoulder and swept his lips against her skin.

She fumbled the knot in his tie. He grasped her wrists in one hand and raised them above her head. His light brown eyes glittered with restrained passion.

“Take off your clothes.” He stepped away, but his gaze never wavered.

With a nod she straightened, then reached behind her to struggle with the short zipper. The dress loosened around her hips. She shrugged off the garment and clutched it to her breasts.

Even though they’d had sex before, she’d been clothed for the most part. Now he was asking her to bare all. She chewed her lower lip and looked at her shoes. Of all the times to be self-conscious.

“Problem?” Amusement colored his voice.

She riveted her attention on him again and vehemently shook her head. There was no way she was going to tell him she was scared.

He winged a brow. His constant scrutiny was a little un-nerving, but the molten passion in his eyes stilled her nerves and settled her anxiety. She released her dress and the silk pooled at her feet. Her bra followed before she could think about what she was doing, but his quick inhale cleared her remaining doubts.

She hooked her thumbs in the side strings of her panties and he shook his head.

He drifted a scorching gaze down her body, lingering on the swell of her breasts, then lower to the navel ring. Anyone else and she’d feel utterly exposed, but he made her feel so feminine and sexy.

Street crooked a finger and beckoned her closer.

Na’arah hesitated. He tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raised.

“Maybe a little incentive?” He approached stopping just within reach. With a gentle finger, he trailed a finger along her collar bone, down the curve of her breast to fondle one pert nipple. She gasp at the deliberate stroke, but he moved on, continuing downward. He circled the stud near her navel.

Such a tiny little caress, but she felt it as surely as if he’d touched her clit. Standing before him as she was, she had few secrets. She couldn’t even hide the state of her arousal. Her panties were beyond damp, her thighs slick with her juices while her musky scent perfumed the air.

“What truly fascinates me.” He dipped his head to flutter kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her shoulder. “Is this.” His fingers danced along her abdomen until he found the edge of her tattoo.

She flashed him a coy smile. “I’m not the only one who has a piece of artwork.” Once more she sought his tie.

He beat her to it, jerking off the bit of silk and wrapping it around her wrist. “Our time the other night was cut far too short.” Still holding her wrist, he spun on his heel and led her to the bedroom. “I want to know all your secrets.”

The sheets were cool and a little rough beneath her buttocks and thighs as she sat on the bed. He gently shoved her shoulder until her back rested on the mattress and followed her down, flicking the end of the tie over her skin. The silk skittered across her cheek, down her throat, to linger over her breasts.

His lips followed the same path heightening the sensation of the soft material swirling around her nipple. Such a contradiction of feeling, moist and dry, silky and rough. Excitement rippled through her enhancing each little lick, flick and nibble.