Oh, Naughty Night! Page 4

  “Your family must not have been happy about your being there.”

  That inspired a brief laugh. “You think I’m insane? I didn’t tell them!”

  He’d swear she was frowning in disapproval beneath that mask. “Maybe it’s good you didn’t. I’m sure your parents would have been terrified for you.”

  “Yes, they would have,” he said, wondering if she, too, had overprotective parents. “That’s why I didn’t say anything to them. The trips were in-and-out, neither lasting longer than thirty-six hours. No point in worrying anybody when I was so far away and nothing they could have said would have changed my mind about going anyway.”

  “I read about some journalists who were attacked there last spring.”

  His hand tightened around his glass, an instinctive reaction, and a familiar pang of sorrow stabbed him in the gut. “Yes, I knew one of them. She was a wonderful photojournalist.” Her death had been part of what made him so conscious of his surroundings for every second of the trip—and so determined to keep doing what he was doing.

  Maybe that was also one reason why he was being a little reckless tonight. He’d been tense for weeks, he needed to let loose, shake off the last vestiges of emotional darkness, be around someone exciting and daring. Someone like her.

  “All I can say is it’s great to be home where...”

  “Where you can proposition a sexy stranger?”

  He smiled, incredibly grateful that she’d lightened the mood again. It was as if she’d read his mind and understood he’d gone as far as he wanted to go on the memory-lane trip.

  “Uh-oh, I think you were the one who stepped forward that time.”

  “Sideways, maybe. The question was related to the subject at hand.”

  “So it was.” He tossed back the rest of his drink, stood, and offered her his hand. “Let’s dance again.”

  She immediately rose, twining her soft fingers with his. He squeezed lightly, wondering why he had such a sudden, shocking feeling of rightness at it being there. Funny, how quickly she was affecting him.

  They were back on the dance floor, swaying to another bluesy Halloweenish song, when he remembered what she’d said back at the table. “So, you think you’re sexy, do you?”

  “I think you think I am.”

  Sexy enough to stop his heart. “Oh? You seem pretty self-assured.”

  “Well, you gave me a hint with your have-sex-like-the-sun-isn’t-gonna-come-up-tomorrow line.”

  “That wasn’t a line,” he said, his voice steady, resolute. “It was a promise.”

  She wobbled again. Damn, he loved rocking her out of her spike-heeled shoes that were more of a sexual invitation than a foot covering.

  “Now who’s the self-assured one?” she whispered.

  “I guess that makes us a good pair.”

  “I wasn’t the one who made suggestive comments about suns not rising.”

  “But you didn’t slap my face and walk away, either.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, so obviously trying to regain the upper hand, he almost laughed. “So, the whole sun-not-coming-up thing. What does it mean, anyway? Aside from the obvious.”

  He quirked a brow. “Huh?”

  “Why would the sun not coming up make the sex better? Is it because it would go on so long since the night would never end?”

  She tried to sound arch and noncommittal, but he could already read this woman very well. Part of her was urging him on, another trying to throw up artificial barriers to buy herself time to figure out where on earth they were going with this attraction.

  “Or do you need to be in the dark?” She gasped a little, the sound over-exaggerated. “Are you...deformed in some way?”

  “Wicked witch coming out to play?” he said with a lazy grin, not letting her get the rise out of him she was trying to.

  “Do you like her?”

  “A lot.”

  “Maybe you haven’t seen her at her wickedest yet.”

  He couldn’t make it out entirely, but he’d swear he could see a twinkle in those dark, mask-encircled eyes. She was teasing him. Daring him. Two steps forward again.

  “I look forward to it. To answer your question, I have no problem in the light or the dark. I’m quite comfortable getting naked and utterly wild in broad daylight.”

  She quivered the tiniest bit before replying, “You certainly did put on a show here.”

  He tilted his head to the side, curious as to what she meant.

  “When you were taking off your sheet, you pulled your shirt almost all the way off.” Wagging an index finger at him, she said, “You had to have noticed. Were you just showing off that back and those shoulders?”

  He barked a loud laugh, hearing the compliment hidden within the complaint. “I swear, I didn’t realize it right away.”

  She harrumphed. “Well, every woman in the place did.”

  Including her. How nice.

  “By the way,” he said, remembering he’d never answered her question, not surprising given the strange turns they’d taken in this twisty conversation, “I was thinking more along the lines of last-night-on-earth sex.”

  Her brow furrowed, then she realized what he was talking about. “Ah. We’re back to the sun not coming up?”

  “Right.” Wondering if she would notice his own determined eye twinkle, he took the charm up a notch. “You know, the world’s gonna end, you have a few hours left, how else do you spend it?”

  “Catching up on The Walking Dead? Eating pizza?” Step back.

  He didn’t let her distract him. Forward. Like dancing. “I was thinking more along the lines of lying naked in someone’s arms.”

  Another flick of that pretty pink tongue on her lush lips.

  She remained silent, not moving in either direction.

  So he verbally advanced again...and again.

  “Touching, tasting, exploring every erotic possibility. Giving and receiving so much pleasure, the experience leaves a mark on the world that lasts through the end of time.”

  “Well, I suppose that sounds better than zombies.”

  “Thanks.”

  She pulled her hand away and smoothed her hair, lifting it off her neck as if she’d suddenly gotten very hot. Still, she tried her best to regain control. “You know, that mark on the world wouldn’t last very long if the world was ending.”

  Jesus, the woman was killing him here. He couldn’t guess which witch he was going to get from one moment to the next. Not that it mattered. He just wanted to kiss her, to screw her, to laugh with her.

  “I was speaking metaphorically. I’m a writer. Sue me.”

  “Do you really think the earth would end if the sun didn’t come up?” she asked. “I mean, just to clarify, I realize you’re a writer, not a scientist, but it’s possible something would survive to...”

  He cut her off. “I don’t care. I just know the earth might end if I don’t get to kiss you soon.”

  She giggled.

  “Cheesy?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “How’s this? If you don’t come home with me and let me fuck your brains out tonight, I might never get over it.”

  Those beautiful lips parted and she breathed across them, breathy sighs in every exhalation. She stared up at him, searchingly, questioningly, and he never broke the stare, letting her see he didn’t regret the words and truly meant them.

  “You surprise me more and more, Chaz.”

  “In a good way?”

  A slow, deliberate nod as she assessed him, brown eyes glowing. “Definitely. And FYI, I don’t think I’d ever get over it, either.”

  Oh, thank God.

  They danced a little more, but now a thi
ck, sexual silence built between them, surging louder and hotter as the music underscored everything they’d said, everything they’d fantasized, everything they wanted. He had no doubt she was thinking the same thing he was—about getting out of here, being alone somewhere. He couldn’t wait to find out if these incredible sparks they shot off each other would start a blaze with their first real kiss and become volcanic in bed.

  The music shifted again, this time to a faster song that didn’t necessitate slow dancing. Both of them ignored that, though, and kept close, swaying, thrusting, mindless and silent. Every brush of her body against his, every shared breath, every stroke of his fingers against the small of her back or press of his thigh against hers was heightening things to ever more intense levels. Her hands did wild and wicked things, riding low on his hips. She kissed his throat, scraping her teeth along his collarbone, which made him groan lightly and repay her in kind until the groan was hers.

  Finally, she stopped moving and inched away from him. She distanced herself enough to suck in a few deep, calming, audible breaths. Her lips were full, swollen, her eyes luminous behind the mask. Her whole body was pink and flushed. Her nipples were pebbled, visible even beneath the sexy bustier. A warm, womanly scent rose from her, filling his head, making his mouth water and his brain fog as he realized just how aroused she had become.

  Other people on the floor merely moved around them, grinning, casting knowing looks, aware he and his mystery woman had been all but having sex in the middle of the crowd. He’d bet they weren’t the only ones.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He wondered if she’d drag him out the door, which was what he most wanted her to do. He mentally held his breath, waiting for her to decide.

  “I was getting overheated,” she said.

  “I noticed,” he said, realizing if she listened hard enough, she wouldn’t hear teasing, but pure, utter desire in his words.

  A long pause. A longer stare.

  “I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he admitted, wondering why everything about her appealed to him so deeply.

  Wrong thing to say, apparently. She stiffened the tiniest bit. And back she stepped.

  “I, uh...look, it’s a holiday, we might be acting out of character. I don’t want either of us to do anything we might someday regret.” Her breaths had slowed, her color returning to normal. “So let’s maybe just stay here for a while longer?”

  As if he would ever regret making love to this woman? Fat chance. Of course, he’d only met her an hour ago, so he supposed she had a right to slow things down. Again.

  He found himself enjoying their sexual dance, the push-and-pull, back-and-forth, a lot. The chase was building his excitement, lifting the anticipation until it hung around them like a vapor.

  “I understand. I like dancing with you.”

  Her relieved sigh told him she’d been holding her breath physically as well as mentally, waiting to see if he was going to agree to cool off or keep up the flirtation.

  “Thanks,” she said, moving into his arms again, though he noticed she kept an inch or two of overheated air between their bodies. “Believe me, I’m not a cock-tease. It’s just...I don’t want either of us to have any regrets.”

  “I won’t,” he said, meaning it.

  Chaz couldn’t help wondering what was making her so skittish. She was hot and sexy one moment, funny and chatty the next. He liked both personalities, but it was the hot and sexy one he wanted to spend the night with. Still, he already suspected he wanted to have breakfast with funny and chatty.

  He supposed he wasn’t thinking about this in the typical-guy one-night-stand way. Chaz had had a few of those—quick lays, hurried goodbyes before the sun rose, scarcely another thought about the encounter. They were perils of a job that required him to travel a lot, rarely leaving him time to settle down and really get to know someone.

  Now, though, he would be stateside for a while, possibly. And within hours of getting here, he’d found someone he really did want to get to know. While he could have taken it slow and played the dating game, the night was too wild, their connection too immediate and his desire for her too insistent. But that didn’t mean one night was all he wanted.

  Besides, he didn’t know her name, and hadn’t really seen her face yet. No way was he going to let her get away tonight without being sure of both. The woman could hardly hide behind a mask if they spent the whole night engaged in hot, steamy sex. As for her name and number, he’d kiss the info right off her lips if it was the last thing he ever did.

  Whatever the name, he could at least try to start solving the mystery of her identity. “So, what about you? What do you do for a living?”

  She relaxed in his arms. “I work for a nonprofit group providing microloans to single mothers in third-world countries.”

  “I’ve heard of those organizations,” he said, trying to recall the details. “I actually talked to someone about that recently. Can’t remember who.”

  Her throat worked visibly as she swallowed, and he felt her tension rise again “Well, it’s a great cause,” she said quietly. “But surely not as exciting as what you do.”

  “It’s not about the excitement. Someone needs to hold these liars and fraudsters accountable. Just because they have power, or money or a ‘good reason’ doesn’t excuse the damage they do.”

  She blanched and he realized he’d gone too far. “Sorry, I get a little wound up. I’ve been told I have ‘trust issues.’”

  “I can understand that, after what happened to your friend. Maybe we shouldn’t talk shop.”

  “Okay, no work stuff. So, are you ready to give me your name?”

  “Let’s say I prefer to be a woman of mystery tonight.”

  He frowned.

  “Is that a deal-breaker?”

  He considered it, already suspecting one night with her wouldn’t be enough. He’d definitely want to know how to reach her later. But the night was young, and if it ended up where he hoped it would, she’d still be in his arms in the morning. There would be time for details, he had no doubt. For now, the pulsating music, the eroticism of her sultry voice, the lights shining on her red hair, the blood-red remnants of her drink on her lips, the innate hunger...they were enough. Most definitely.

  “No. Not a deal-breaker. I doubt you could say anything that would be.”

  One corner of her sexy mouth curved up in a tiny smile, and she gave a throaty chuckle. “Never say never.”

  Something came to mind. “You’re not married, right?”

  “Completely unattached.”

  He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Good.”

  “You?” she asked.

  “Nope. I’ve been told I’m not marriage material.”

  She sneered. “Told by some woman who wanted you to commit before you were ready?”

  “That’s pretty perceptive.”

  “It’s in the female phrasebook.”

  “I need to get one of those.”

  “That’ll cost you more than a nickel. State secrets and all.”

  “I should already have one, considering I had a bunch of girls around growing up.”

  She stiffened slightly in his arms.

  “Is family a touchy subject we are supposed to avoid, like witches and going back to my place for a drink?”

  “No. I’m just picturing you as a kid.”

  “Don’t bother. I was a born loser.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said, suddenly vehement.

  “If the word ‘geek’ is in that handbook of yours, my picture’s beside it.”

  “Well, I bet the girls you grew up with feel pretty stupid now,” she whispered.

  “I doubt it,” he replied, remembering his gawkiest years, when he’d been a skinny, uncoordinated sad
-sack. “They wouldn’t recognize me if they fell over me today.”

  She mumbled something that he couldn’t catch—something like I know what you mean—which was interesting. Because he had a hard time picturing her ever being anything but gorgeous, and she was unforgettable. He would never forget that smile.

  “It’s all right,” he told her. “Believe me, I’m not carrying around any angst from my childhood. Though, I do avoid going back to my small hometown as much as possible.”

  She cleared her throat. “You never go home to see your family because of the way other kids treated you?”

  “Nah. I go once in a while, not for a few years, though. I’m busy traveling. My parents meet up with me sometimes—last year they came to Berlin when I was on assignment. And I should see my kid sister more now since she just started grad school here in D.C. this semester.”

  “Your sister is in the city?” She nibbled her lip. “Where does she go to school?”

  “Sarah goes to American University.”

  She stopped dancing. “So does La...um, so does somebody I know. Small world.”

  “Yeah,” he said, meaning it. He’d traveled enough of it to know. “Can we be done talking about our childhoods and our families now?”

  “Oh, yes, please!”

  “Good. Let’s get back to discussing how red your lips are.”

  “Were we discussing that?”

  “If we weren’t, we should have been.”

  Her tongue flicked out and moistened those sensual lips, and he had to clench his teeth as the temperature went up another ten degrees.

  “I wasn’t lying. I am going to have to kiss you soon.”

  Her throat visibly worked as she swallowed. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to answer; he couldn’t wait anymore. Those red lips were driving him crazy, and he had to taste her or go completely mental right here on the dance floor. So without warning, he bent and caught her mouth with his. Her lips parted right away, warm, hungry and welcoming, and he kissed her deeply, tasting cherry, whiskey and woman.