He looked down at me then and I saw the corners of his mouth twitching. Apparently, he found the fact that I was staring at him to be funny. I probably should've been insulted by that, but I couldn't do anything except wonder what his lips would feel like against mine. Against my throat. My breasts. My pussy throbbed at the thought of that sinfully delicious mouth tasting it.
“We're here.” He opened the cab door and a gust of wind snapped me from my fantasy.
I scowled and climbed out of the cab, taking his hand again so I didn't fall. I looked up at my apartment and was struck with the sudden desire to ask my rescuer if he wanted to come up so I could properly thank him.
“Are you okay to get up there all right?” His expression was one of concern.
“I'll be fine.” My head was still blurry, but clear enough to know what the smart thing to do was. Certain lower regions of my body disagreed, but I didn't let them make the decisions. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
“It was my pleasure, Miss.” He bent over the hand he was still holding and pressed his lips against the back of it.
Well, shit. How was I supposed to not react to that?
Knowing I'd blame it on the alcohol tomorrow, I threw my arms around my mystery man's neck and pulled his head down so that I could kiss him. I saw a moment of surprise and felt his body tense for a moment before his arms slid around my waist and he leaned into the kiss. His mouth softened, then he took control, changing what would have been a sloppy, drunken kiss to something else.
His tongue parted my lips, twisting and curling around mine, drawing it into his mouth. When he sucked on it, I moaned and his hands flexed against my back, burning through the thin material of my shirt. His fingers brushed against the bare skin exposed at the base of my back and a part of me wished he'd take further liberties and explore. While his hands remained where they were, his tongue delved back into my mouth, thoroughly possessing every inch of me.
Then, he was stepping back and my head was spinning for a whole new reason. Something bright passed across his eyes, then disappeared behind the polite compassion I'd seen before.
“Have a good night, Miss.” He gave me a half-smile. “And pleasant dreams.”
He waited until I was safely inside the building before he got back into the cab, but the cab didn't pull away until after I looked out the window of my apartment. How sweet! He’d waited to make sure I'd gotten inside safely. I sighed and smiled. If I had any luck, I'd have very pleasant dreams indeed.
Chapter 5
If I dreamt of my hot savior, I didn't remember. I did, however, remember with annoying clarity the events of the previous night. It seemed that I'd had enough alcohol to behave like an idiot and to have a massive, splitting headache, but not enough to make my memory too hazy. That sucked. If I had to suffer through the indignity of knowing I'd nearly fallen in the bar, been the cause of a fight and had then thrown myself at a total stranger, shouldn't I have at least gotten a reprieve on the hangover?
I groaned as I forced one eye open. My curtains were drawn so the only light in the bedroom was my alarm clock, which was currently telling me that I'd slept at least three hours past my normal weekend wake up time of nine o'clock. It was times like this that I was glad I lived alone. There would be no one to shame me into attempting to function at the moment.
I crawled out of bed and headed the few steps across the hall to my bathroom, pausing every second step or so to wait until everything stopped spinning before moving on. I downed a couple painkillers, drank a few wary sips of water and then slowly made my way back to bed. As I crawled under the covers, I noticed I'd managed to shower and put on pajamas last night, which was more than I'd expected. Granted, the pajamas were on backwards, but at least I was clothed.
I debated the merits of fixing my pajamas but fell back asleep before I could make a decision. When I woke up again, the clock said it was a little past two. I knew I should probably eat something, but the idea of food didn't seem like a good thing at the moment. Based on my very few previous experiences with being hung over, I knew I'd probably feel up to something later tonight, but even the thought of eating right now was enough to make me gag. I'd made it through this whole thing without throwing up and I fully intended to keep it that way.
I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Mindy would want a report of how things had gone, but I really didn't want to get into that right now. All I wanted was to sleep the rest of the weekend away and then bury myself in work come Monday.
No, I realized, that wasn't the only thing I wanted. A pair of dark gray eyes danced behind my closed lids and they were quickly followed by those lips. I made a sound and pulled my blanket up against my face. That mouth. I could still feel it against mine, the way his lips had moved, how his tongue had explored every inch of my mouth.
I'd kissed exactly five people in my entire life. Ronald, of course, but there had been four others. Jason Keller had given me my first kiss when I was eight and he'd been the older man at ten. I'd played Spin the Bottle the summer between eighth and ninth grade and my former boyfriend Timmy had stolen a kiss then. He'd moved away a few weeks later. My junior year of high school, I'd gone to a party and gotten drunk for the first time. Apparently, Adelle and I had kissed during a game of Truth and Dare. I wasn't sure that counted since I had little more than a fuzzy impression of it. And then there'd been Vincent Ryan, my high school crush, who'd given me a kiss after senior prom.
Not a single kiss had even come close to the one I'd had with my knight in shining armor. I tried telling myself it was just because I really didn't have any good comparisons. After all, aside from Ronald, the other kisses had been when I was young and inexperienced. I snorted at the thought of myself as experienced now, then winced at the pain in my head.
Youth had nothing to do with it. Ronald was an adult and I'd loved kissing him. He'd made me shiver with delight, but I'd never felt my knees turn to jelly when we'd kissed. It had been like that in bed too, I admitted for the first time. I didn't have anyone else to compare him to, but I knew there hadn't been the same kind of fire between us that other people had. Sure, I enjoyed having sex with him and he'd been a fairly considerate lover, but I'd never dreamed about him. Fantasized about him. I'd never felt the need to touch myself because I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on my body.
Not like the hands I'd had on me last night.
“Fuck,” I mumbled.
I knew it probably wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't stop myself thinking about him. From the first moment I'd looked into his eyes, I'd felt desire heating me up. Then we'd kissed and it had been like fireworks or lightning or something else that had a burst of energy and light so strong that it was dangerous. I'd wanted to feel his hands on my bare skin. Running up my back. Cupping my breasts. His fingers between my legs, touching me.
I sighed and flopped onto my back. The sudden movement wasn't a good idea, but it at least broke my train of thought for a moment. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back asleep, but my savior came creeping back in, bringing with him vague fantasies of his body and mine, writhing together in pleasure.
I grabbed an extra pillow and pressed it against my face, letting out a cry of frustration. I had thin walls and the last thing I needed was one of my neighbors thinking I was in trouble and calling the cops.