Winning Her Over (7 page)

With an impressive demonstration of self-control, Cal didn’t laugh at Mel’s pronouncement. Though his smile grew noticeably wider.

Brenna wanted to hide in mortification, but she womanned up instead. “I suppose I should do the honors.” Then she gestured to each of her tablemates in turn as she introduced them to Cal, moving quickly around the table in hopes of avoiding further embarrassment. Finally, the moment of truth arrived. She braced herself. “Ladies, this is Cal Wilcox.”

Rikki arched a brow. “Cal, your
client
?” Her friends could be so obnoxious sometimes.

“You remember. Her
former
client,” Cissy corrected loyally.

Brenna eagerly jumped on the bandwagon, for the benefit of the rest of Mel’s birthday guests. “Yes. My
former
client.”

Said former client bent down then and murmured an apology in Brenna’s ear. “Sorry to crash your party, but I saw you over here and I couldn’t help myself.”

She shivered as his heated breath caressed the sensitive skin behind her earlobe.

He paused there. “Mmm, you smell good.” Then his lips moved south, to her neck, and unerringly found her sweet spot.

“Damn, girl,” Rikki muttered, sounding envious. One of the other girls gasped—in shock or admiration Brenna couldn’t tell. Then again, the blood was roaring in her ears like pounding surf. Maybe she was merely having auditory hallucinations.

“You should probably stop doing that,” she said shakily, even as she let her eyelids close, tilting her head to give Cal better access.

He hesitated. “But you like it. I can tell.”

She did like it. Too much. It was her own fault for letting herself get so sex-starved, but if she let him keep it up much longer, she might have an orgasm right here in the bar, in front of all her friends.

What was she going to tell him? That she was just a few nuzzles away from coming all over the barstool? He’d probably take it as a challenge. Or maybe she should just embrace the truth—that she was tired, so fucking tired, of being hopelessly, relentlessly alone. Untouched. Un…nuzzled.

No, she most certainly did not want Cal to stop with the gentle nibbles, and the fleeting kisses, and holy crap—

His tongue-tip traced a tiny figure eight against the side of her neck. Her inner muscles responded with a slow, delicious clench as a hard shudder rippled through her. And then, before she could stifle it, a low, needy little moan managed to escape.

Brenna froze—eyes closed, neck arched, lips parted. She was so, so screwed. All she could do was pray that her friends hadn’t heard how badly she wanted him.

But Cal had.

He stilled, then his voice was at her ear again, all dark and rumbly and sexy as hell. “That was just about the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

Scrupulously avoiding eye contact with the rest of the table, she dared to look up at him. His eyes were sex-glazed, his pupils large and dark. Miraculously, his need seemed to mirror her own.

A fierce wave of pride rolled through her. It didn’t matter that she was woefully out of practice, or that everyone was undoubtedly still watching them.
She’d
put that look on his face. He wanted
her
.

Leaning toward Cal, she aimed for sultry. “Yeah, you and everyone else.” Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings because of what she was about to say, and she hoped her nervousness didn’t show. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more…private?” A casual suggestion, as if this wasn’t far outside the bounds of her normal behavior.

That brought him up short. He nodded slowly, his eyes gleaming. “I’m on board with that. How much longer are you staying?” His words had taken on a husky urgency that sent her desire spiraling.

“What time is it?” Brenna asked no one in particular, choosing to ignore that she would never hear the end of this from Rikki and Mel.

“Time for you to get laid,” one of her friends cackled.

“It’s well past
that
time, if you ask me.” That was Cissy. Traitor.

Brenna put her hands on her hips as she mock-glared around the table. “Seriously, guys.”

“It’s about nine-fifteen,” Cal told her in his bedroomiest voice.

Which meant she’d been partying for more than four hours. Even though she’d already made the suggestion to Cal, she hated being
that girl
—the one who bailed out of a girls’ night to get with a guy. She was never
that girl
.

“That’s my birthday preshent to you then, Brennnna.” Poor Mel was slurring even more than before. “Because yer sesh a good friend. Go wiv the seck-shee man.” She waved her hands in a shooing motion.

“Fine,” Brenna acquiesced. “Majority rules! I’m outta here.”

Easing herself off the stool, she smiled at her soon-to-be lover. Outwardly, she was all swagger. She was taking the hottest man in the bar home with her, and every single one of the women at the table knew it.

But inside, she was a tangled mass of nerves. Though she knew Cal, sort of, she didn’t ordinarily bring near-strangers back to her condo. Or have one-night stands, for that matter. Assuming she went through with it and actually slept with him, Cal was going to be her first.

“Thanks for letting me steal her,” he told Mel, all gentlemanly politeness. Then he bent down to Brenna’s ear, and his breath sweeping across her skin sent shivers all the way down to her core. “Thanks for letting me steal
you
.” He expressed his gratitude with a kiss dropped right onto that sensitive spot on the tendon at the side of her neck.

Brenna’s nipples tightened into hard, tingly little nubs, and all her misgivings about leaving the party were forgotten.

Cal straightened. Then he looked down, muttering a curse when he noticed the evidence of her arousal jutting through her shirt’s clingy fabric.

Cissy, observing all, helpfully handed Brenna her purse, which had been hanging on the back of Brenna’s chair. Thank God for Cissy.

Brenna slung her purse over her shoulder. As she was about to leave, Cissy took Brenna’s hands in hers. “You’re sure about this—it’s not just the margaritas, right?” she asked quietly.

Brenna nodded.

“Okay.” Cissy gave Brenna’s fingers a little squeeze. “Be safe. And call me tomorrow!” Cissy kissed her on the cheek. Then her face lit up with a playful smile. “I agree with your assessment, by the way.”

Brenna’s brain was still buzzing from the combined effects of tequila and heavy flirtation. “What?”

“Totally doable,” Cissy said directly into her ear.

At least the remark was discreet. Nevertheless, Brenna’s cheeks heated, and she couldn’t escape fast enough. “Bye, everyone!”

A chorus of good-byes, with a suggestive “Have fun!” thrown in for good measure—probably by Rikki—sent them on their way.

Cal wrapped his arm around Brenna’s waist as he guided her to the front of the restaurant. The heat of him seeped through the barrier of their clothes, and the cacophony of the bar faded away as her world narrowed once again to the shockingly gorgeous man at her side. She softened against him.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk. Are you, Brenna?”

“No, just a little tipsy.” She thought for a moment before deciding she’d better ask him the same question. “How about you?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Better than fine.” He gave her a panty-melting grin. “I need a few minutes to say my own good-byes, though, before we head out.”

“I need to use the ladies’ anyway. Meet you at the front door in five?” she asked, as if they made plans together like this all the time.

“Sounds good.” He gathered her to his side with one last squeeze. Then he let her go.

She had five minutes to stop freaking out. And find a breath mint.

A
fter Brenna
and Cal reconnected
and emerged together from the bar, he gave her a choice. “The hotel, or your place?”

Even after a few drinks, Brenna still knew the hotel was a nonstarter. “Come to my place,” she urged him. “We can go to my favorite diner for breakfast in the morning.” Because Lord knew, her cupboards were bare of anything she’d want to serve him as a meal.

Then she realized what she’d assumed and quickly backpedaled. “Uh, if you’re staying over, I mean.” God, she sucked at this.

Cal smiled. “I can’t turn down an offer like that. How do we get there?”

Relief weakened her knees. “Cab,” she replied, flagging one down. “It’s ten, fifteen minutes. Not much longer than going to the hotel.”

He put the time to good use. As soon as they were settled in the back seat with the cabbie headed toward Charlestown, Cal hauled Brenna to him, plundering her mouth like an invading Saxon. His lips were soft yet firm, his slick tongue thrusting gently against her own. He tasted of hops and lime.
Coronas,
she thought incongruously as her insides liquefied.

Finally he broke away, panting slightly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for two weeks.”

“Me too,” she admitted, rather breathless herself.

That, apparently, was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled her toward him again, and she met him halfway, arching against him as his tongue teased hers. This time, he took it one step further. His left hand—the one against the seat back, hidden from the cabbie’s view—curved around her ribcage, his thumb lightly caressing her breast.

She moaned into his mouth. This was starting to edge into dangerous territory for her again.

Maybe she could distract him. Her hand caressed its way down his side, then across his hipbone, inching ever closer to the ridge in his pants. He gasped as her fingertips trailed across the firm sponginess of that ridge’s end, and he clutched her tighter.

Then his busy thumb swept along the edge of her areola, before driving right over the top of her nipple. She nearly sobbed as the sensation swamped her, wanting nothing more than to throw her leg across his lap so she could grind herself to completion.

Cal’s other arm dropped down, the one she prayed had been screening his more daring activities from the cabbie. But all thoughts of self-preservation were lost when his hand gripped her thigh, then glided upward, under the hem of her skirt. Her legs parted, just enough for his questing fingers to home in on where she was hot and damp with excitement. His fingertips brushed against her swollen folds through her panties, and she almost lost it, right there.

Now her every exhalation was pretty much a moan, and she no longer gave a shit whether the cabbie saw her have the orgasm of her life in his back seat.

The taxi lurched to a stop, and the dome light over their heads came on. Was the driver throwing them out for practically having sex in his cab? Disoriented, she regarded him anxiously in the rearview mirror.

He leered back at her. “Twelve dollars.”

Cal frowned. “You go ahead. I’ve got this.”

Still dazed, Brenna got out while Cal lingered to pay the fare. He came up behind her as she was fumbling her keys out of her purse.

She unlocked the door to her building, and he held it open as she walked through. “Third-floor walk-up. Sorry,” she warned him as she began to ascend the stairs ahead of him.

“Not a problem,” he assured her, sliding a hand up under her skirt and giving her right cheek a little squeeze.

She thought about protesting for form’s sake. Instead, she just upped her pace the rest of the way to the top.

With trembling hands, she unlocked her apartment door. Then Cal was on her, kicking the door closed behind them, finally pressing her against the wall.

“I need to make you come.” His breathing was as fast and ragged as her own.

“Mmm hmm,” she agreed, quickly losing herself again in the bright spears of lust shooting through her as his hand burrowed inside her panties, two of his long fingers delving into her slick and needy hole.

Too soon, he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling her panties down as he went. She drew her skirt up with one hand. The other curved around the back of his head, his hair soft against her fingertips.

Mesmerized, she watched as he leaned in, inhaling long and deeply. Then his tongue darted out to taste her.

Brenna let out a heated sigh of approval. “I’m already close.” She barely recognized her own voice, hoarsened with desire.

He suckled her clit between warm, firm lips, strumming it with his tongue. “Oh my God!” she cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily against his face.

When he slid his fingers back inside her, a dozen long, sweeping licks was all it took to topple her over the edge. She climaxed, thrashing and moaning, against his tongue and hand.

If it weren’t for the wall at her back, she would have collapsed into a contented little heap. She sagged against its cool solidity, trying to remember how to breathe. If the
foreplay
was that good, the main event just might kill her.

Almost reverently, Cal skimmed Brenna’s panties the rest of the way down, over her boots, and steadied her as she stepped out of them. Then he stood up, wiping the back of his hand across his shining mouth and chin. The intent in his eyes was unmistakable.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he toed off his shoes and nudged them aside. He stepped back to unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, pulling a strip of six condoms from one of his pockets as his pants fell to his ankles.

Brenna’s indrawn breath caught in her lungs. This was really happening.

Cal kicked his pants toward his shoes. Then he pushed his boxers down until they dropped to the floor, where they soon joined the growing pile. The tip of his erection poked between his white shirttails.

“You come prepared, I see,” Brenna teased as she caressed his hardness. His rather well-endowed hardness. “Boy Scout?”

“Eagle Scout,” he corrected her with a playful smile. He tore off one of the packets, ripped it open, and sheathed himself. “Ready?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Before she knew what was happening, he’d hoisted her up, his hands gripping the curves of her ass. Instinctively, her arms came around his neck, her legs around his waist. He held her in place, adjusting their positions until his crown was poised at her entrance. Then he allowed gravity to impale her on his erection in one slow, delicious glide.

“Fuck,” they gasped almost in unison when her body had finally come to rest against his. She was stuffed absolutely full of him.

He started to move, bouncing her on his cock, jolting her against the wall with each stroke. “You feel incredible,” Cal said with a groan before plunging into her again.

Brenna couldn’t even find the words to respond coherently. The way his pubic bone rubbed against her clit, combined with the way he filled her as he advanced, then retreated, rendered her damn near speechless.

Cal picked up the pace, mercilessly pounding into her eager body. The delicious ache of another orgasm soon began to twine and coil inside her, growing in intensity.

“Oh, Cal!” Her body bowed as she cried out, the tension peaking before she finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy. Her eyelids fell shut, her inner muscles clasping him in a series of intense, shuddering pulses.

“Thank God,” she barely heard him mutter through the roaring in her ears. “Didn’t think I was gonna make it.” His thrusts grew even rougher. Within seconds he was choking out her name as he seemed to stagger.

Still stunned, Brenna forced her heavy lids open, trying to get her bearings. The first thing she saw was Cal in the throes of his orgasm, his eyes practically rolling back in his head. Even better than she’d imagined. Especially the way he was shoving his cock extra deep inside her as he came.

Cal’s sweaty forehead dropped to her shoulder. It got her no end of hot that he was strong enough to keep her pinned to the wall, even after he’d just set her world spinning around a new axis. But, sooner than she really wanted, he bent his knees, gently pulling out of her before he lowered her to the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice hoarsened by his exertions. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“God, no.” She hastened to reassure him. “You were perfect. It was incredible.”

He smiled down at her, tenderly tracing her jaw with his fingertips. “For me, too.”

The moment of perfection was all too fleeting, though. Her overactive brain kicked in, and a sudden jolt of anxiety evaporated most of her postorgasmic haze. Were they supposed to make idle chitchat between rounds? Should she give him a tour of her apartment? She supposed she should offer him a drink, at least.

Cal must have realized that her mind was starting to race out of control—or maybe he was just a master of timing—because he took swift and confident action. He enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close for a long and luxurious kiss. By the time they came up for air, all of her fears, all of her nervousness, all of the what-ifs had just drifted away, dispersed by his comforting warmth and masculine scent.

“I could kiss you like that all night,” he said in a low and husky rumble.

“Mmm…more kisses?” she pleaded wistfully.

He chuckled. “Maybe somewhere more comfortable?”

Yeah, kisses in bed sounded pretty darned good. Preferably with less clothing, and more horizontality. “Let me just get a couple glasses of water for us and we can head upstairs.”

He removed the condom, careful not to spill its contents. “Do you have a bathroom somewhere I can trash this?”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s just down that hallway, on the right.” She pointed, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

While he dealt with the condom, she unzipped her boots and tugged them off, lining them up in the front hall closet and stashing Cal’s shoes alongside them. Her panties peeked out from underneath his trousers. Lacking a pocket to tuck them into, she decided to put them back on. Then she headed for the kitchen.

A few minutes later she rejoined Cal, now barefoot and wearing just his shirt. He’d folded his slacks across his arm and was holding his boxers and socks in his other hand. She assumed he’d collected the rest of the condoms—they were nowhere to be seen.

She took a deep breath, then released it. They had water. They had condoms. There was a bed waiting for them upstairs.

And she had a three-year dry spell to make up for. With the hottest guy she’d ever known.

She was glad he couldn’t see the giddy smile that spread across her face as she led the way up to her bedroom.

* * *

B
renna’s
internal alarm clock
woke her at sunrise. She was about to throw back the covers to attend to her parched throat and bursting bladder when it finally registered: the heavy weight of an arm was slung possessively across her lower belly. Soft, crinkly hair tickled her hip.

She froze mid-movement. Cal was still here. In her bed. With her.

Her heartbeat sped up as memories from last night came flooding back. She hadn’t known sex could be so…intense. So all-consuming. Especially not in the context of a casual hook-up, or whatever this was.

Round two had sent them off to sleep in a blissful tangle of sweaty limbs. She’d roused Cal several hours later, or maybe he’d roused her, and they’d continued where they’d left off, sleepily joining together until both were sated once again.

And now she would have to extricate herself without waking him. The last few weeks had undoubtedly been stressful for him, and they’d barely slept last night. She was sure he needed as much rest as he could get. Besides, she had no idea what to say to him if he woke up.

Not daring to breathe, she eased herself back toward the edge of the bed, gently setting his arm down into the still-warm hollow where she’d lain.

Frowning, he made a drowsy noise of complaint, but didn’t stir.

She rolled to her feet, trying not to shift the bedsprings, and noticed for the first time precisely which underused muscles had gotten a workout last night. Her legs trembled like a newborn fawn’s as she made her way to the bathroom. But a big drink of water and a couple of ibuprofen went a long way toward setting her right. As did a thorough tooth-brushing.

She didn’t know what the standard protocol was, so she left a spare toothbrush on the counter for whenever Cal woke up. And the Advil, in case his head felt anything like hers did.

Ablutions completed, she stood next to her bed for a few minutes, greedily drinking in the sight of gorgeous, sandy-haired Cal felled by sleep. He looked several years younger, with his muscles relaxed and the fringes of his brown lashes lying in twin crescents against his cheeks. The dusting of freckles across his nose made her imagine what he’d looked like as a boy. But even in repose he was all man, powerful and sensual.

She shivered in the morning chill and decided coffee could wait a little longer. Right now, all she wanted was to slide back under the covers, snuggle up next to Cal’s warmth, and catch a couple more hours of sleep herself. Thankfully she’d planned ahead, expecting to be exhausted after Mel’s party, and her first massage appointment today wasn’t until noon.