“My niece, Grace, had skinned her elbow that afternoon.” He still sounded faintly embarrassed, charming her now as he had then. “I had them in my pocket.”
“So you said.” As he’d looked up with a boyish, bashful grin. And that was the moment he had me. He never had to be smart or funny or thoughtful or polite. But he’d been all those things, too. He’d been perfect. “Friday was a nice night.” Perfect.
“It was. I didn’t want it to end.” Neither of them had. After Mia’s rehearsal dinner, they’d ended up at Moe’s, a restaurant run by his friends, where they’d had pie and coffee and talked until the owners swept up around them and finally turned out the lights. “I don’t think I ever closed a restaurant down before.”
“When Moe knew I was moving out here, he asked me to tell you hello.” He said nothing more for a long, long moment, still holding her. Then he sighed quietly. “Hello, Olivia. I should have said that months ago.”
She pulled back, met his eyes, her own hardening. “Then why didn’t you? Why did you move here in the first place?”
He didn’t blink. “Because of the next night. Saturday night.” He paused, his gaze unflinching, and her cheeks grew hot. “There’s a lot I don’t remember about that night after Mia’s wedding, Olivia, but I remember enough.”
Her chin lifted a fraction. “Such as?”
His eyes changed, shifted. “Like how you felt when I danced with you, holding you against me. How your bridesmaid dress dipped low in front.” He slid his hand from her hair, gently tracing the edge of her bra through the thin dress she wore, sending current charging all over her skin. “How I wanted to know what you looked like without it.”
He dipped his head, brushing his lips over the curve of her shoulder, his fingertips teasing the fullness of her breast. “But somehow,” he whispered, “I know how you look without it. I shouldn’t. But I do, don’t I?”
She was trembling now. You have to make him stop. But she couldn’t. Didn’t want to. “Yes.” It was barely audible, but from the sharp intake of his breath, she knew he’d heard. Touch me, she wanted to plead, but once more there was no air in her lungs.
Abruptly he slid both hands down, covering her butt. Her whimper of relief was muffled as he took her mouth again, hot and demanding. A shudder shook him and he tore his lips away.
“God. I remember how you felt in my hands,” he muttered, kneading her flesh and she lifted on her toes, up into him. He was already hard.
She knew how it felt to press against that hard ridge, to feel it throb against her. She needed to feel it again. Now. She made a frustrated noise and he finally lifted her, pressing her into the door frame, his body hard between her thighs.
Almost, but not nearly enough. Just like last time. She rocked against him and heard him utter an oath, then his hands found the bare skin of her legs, trembling as they caressed.
Unsteadily, he feathered kisses up the side of her neck to her ear. “I remember how you taste, Olivia.” It was a harsh whisper, wringing a moan from her lips. He ground into her and her head lolled against the door frame as she let the memories in. This. This is what she’d craved, all those months. All those months he’d stayed away. “Don’t I?” He kissed her neck, hard. “Do I know how you taste?”
She nodded, every muscle clenching.
“And I know how you sound when you come.”
“Yes.” The word was nearly a sob.
“And then…” He was breathing hard, his fingers digging into her inner thighs, pulling her wider, rocking up into her, so close that if it weren’t for their layers of clothing, he’d be inside her. She met each thrust, so damn close. Almost there, just from a few whispered words and the thrust of his hips.
She swallowed hard. “What?” she whispered, her voice raspy. Desperate.
“Your mouth… I can still feel your mouth on me. Hot and wet.” He shuddered. “I wasn’t sure if I’d dreamed it. Tell me I didn’t dream it.”
“You didn’t.” The memory hit her hard and she jerked her face away from him. Stop this now. “Why?” she asked roughly. “Why didn’t you call? If you remember all of it, why have you stayed away all this time?”
His hips stilled. “I woke the next morning with a hell of a hangover. Alone. The last clear memory I had was the reception, drinking champagne. Dancing with you. Then I woke up in my bed.” He swallowed. “Naked. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten home. What was reality and what I’d fantasized. Then I smelled you on my pillow.” He turned his face into her hair. “I knew you’d been there. You’d gone without a good-bye or a note.”
He lifted her head and she opened her eyes. His gaze was intense. She saw confusion swirling there, and hurt. And something else she couldn’t define.
“Why did you leave?” he asked urgently. “I need to know.”
“Let me down.” Instantly he did. Her knees were weak, but her feet were solidly on the floor, where I should have kept them all along. She wanted to look away, but forced her eyes to remain on his face. “When I… when I came,” she said, “what did I say?”
He frowned slightly. “My name. Why?” His frown deepened, his eyes narrowing when she said no more. “Why? What did I say?”
She drew a breath. She’d never done a one-night stand in her life before David Hunter, not that he’d believe it. And rarely had she done that, even with men she’d known for years, but… God. She’d been caught up in some kind of evil genie spell, because not to take him into her mouth had never entered her mind. His body had bucked and bowed and he’d been so goddamn… beautiful. Then he’d thrown his head back, clenched his teeth and… said the word that had said it all.
She realized her own teeth were clenched. “Dana,” she said tautly. My sister’s best friend. Who was married to someone else.
His gray eyes abruptly shuttered, becoming unreadable. “And?”
Olivia’s mouth fell open. “And? That’s all you have to say?”
He shook his head hard. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
And? Like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. “Let me go.”
“Olivia, wait.”
She shoved at his shoulders. “No. Let. Me. Go.” She twisted, her dress falling back down around her legs. He reached for her and she smacked him away.
“Olivia, wait.”
A sob was building but she’d be goddamned before she let him see her cry. She made it out of the room, grabbing her purse from the kitchen counter, him on her heels. He made it to the door ahead of her and slapped his palm against it.
“Listen to me.”
“I did,” she spat. “That’s the problem. Let me go or I swear to God you’ll be sorry.”
Slowly he backed away. “I am. I am sorry.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed and yanked the door open. She stopped herself, forcing herself to calm down. Driving when she was this angry was dangerous. She stared straight ahead, not trusting herself to look at him again. “I don’t do one-night stands, David. Believe it, or don’t. I don’t care. But hear this clearly. I don’t play second-string. When I’m with a man, I want him to be thinking of me. Only me.”
“Olivia, please. I… don’t have any excuse except I’d had too much to drink.”
“And?” she asked sardonically. “From now on, stop watching me. Please.”
“All right,” he said hollowly. “I won’t bother you again.”
“Good.” She got to her car and out to the main road, then the shakes hit and she pulled over. This always happened when she got emotional. That’s why she didn’t like to get emotional. She groped for her cell phone in her purse and hit speed-dial one.
“Well?” Paige asked, bypassing greeting.
“Sal’s Bar,” Olivia said darkly. “In thirty.”
“Then… it didn’t go well?”
“Y’think? I’m gonna text Brie, see if she can meet us.”
Paige sighed. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, sure. I’m just peachy. See you in thirty minutes.”