I guzzled down my now lukewarm beer, thirsty after singing three songs. Her rejection was disappointing, but then I should’ve known whatever moment we’d had wasn’t coming back. Next time I should bring Emily here without my baby sister to squeal like amp feedback.
The stage stayed empty and the bartender put on some music. I munched on a few things, most of them fried. This was what happened when Mir took charge of the order. I couldn’t taste much, though. Adrenaline from the performance, no matter how short, was still sizzling in my veins, making me jittery, my senses extra sharp. And right now, everything was focused on Emily. Her presence. Her nearness. The way her hair moved when she tilted her head.
“You know, I didn’t realize how good music could be until now,” Emily said. “I can see why you’re famous.”
“You can hear me sing any time you want,” I said, my voice raspier than usual. I’d never sung for any of my exes privately before. They’d never asked, and I’d never offered. But for Emily, I would love to so I could watch her reaction beat by beat.
“I wouldn’t know what to request.” She gave me a small, light smile.
“No problem. You tell me what kind of mood you’re in, and I can pick something and sing it.”
She wiped her fingers and dabbed at her mouth. Her gaze skimmed the area next to us where some couples were dancing. “Do you dance as well as you sing?”
“You kidding?” I grinned, surprised and pleased. “Wanna dance?” I want to hold you.
“Yeah. But don’t laugh at me. I’m out of practice.”
“Just follow my lead.”
I wiped my fingers, then took her hand as I led her to the open space where people were moving to the music, then took her into my arms. My pulse throbbed, like a kid on his first date with the girl he’d had a crush on since forever. Somehow everything was new and different with Emily. The feel of her body against mine was like nothing I’d ever experienced.
The song was sweetly romantic and slow, probably in honor of Sam and Fiona’s anniversary. We held each other and swayed. Emily smelled like citrus and mint and something warm and sweet, like honey. My heart was pounding so hard that I wondered if she could hear it over the music. She looked up at me despite her heels. Her usually sharp eyes seemed gentler somehow, without their customary edge. Leaning over, I crooned the lyrics into her ear. The heat from her body burned me. My mouth was close enough to her ear to graze the delicate shell, and she shivered. She angled her head, and her lips brushed mine.
Everything except the song and her seemed to melt away. We kissed each other softly, just a cushioning of lips. The touch was so erotic that it left me dizzy, my senses spinning. She tasted like the beer and spices and all Emily. That smart mouth. That take no prisoners attitude. I wanted to take her to bed, make her feel great. Show her I could give her the kind of night she deserved.
We continued to sway to the music, brushing our lips and sharing the air between us. She licked my mouth, then blinked, pulling back a little. “Can we tell Mir we’re leaving early?” Then she flushed. “Tell her I have a headache.”
For a second, I froze, trying to process what she’d just said. Then lust shot through me like lightning, obliterating everything but the need I had for Emily. Although my dick was painfully hard, I almost laughed. That was what women usually said when they didn’t want to have sex. “Right now?”
“Yes. And see if she can get a ride with somebody. No point in cutting her evening short.”
“You got it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emily
“Your place or mine?” I said when Killian pulled into the cul-de-sac. Then I smacked myself mentally. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking at all. I couldn’t. “Actually, mine. We don’t need Mir walking in.”
“She’s spending the night with Yve.” They actually had been planning a sleepover. “You have condoms?”
“No.”
“Then mine.”
“Okay.” I hadn’t thought as far as condoms, and it would’ve been disastrous to start and then have to stop because of a lack of latex.
My blood had been simmering the entire short drive. If Killian had put on music, I didn’t notice. All I knew was that I actually ached between my legs.
I’d never felt that before. I thought it was something that only happened in romance novels. Hell, I’d written it into my books, because I figured it would hurt to want so much but not have it, even though I’d never experienced anything like that.
Killian’s car screeched to a stop in front of his house. I stepped out immediately, not wanting him to waste time trying to be a gentleman and open my door. He fumbled with the key to unlock the door to his place. I stood behind him and touched him, needing the contact, then ran my mouth along his bulging triceps. We needed to be inside for what I had in mind. It wasn’t my idea of fun to get arrested for indecent exposure and whatever obscure decency laws were still on the books in the state of Virginia. Although this area was secluded, it wasn’t gated, and you never knew who might be around to call in a complaint.
The key turned and he went in, reaching back to grab my hand and pull me along behind him. Once we were inside, he turned around. I looped my arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, all aggression and lust.
He tasted so damn good. Felt so damn good. All those lean muscles I’d been secretly eye-fucking every morning pressed against my torso, crushing my breasts. Damned bra. It was in the way.
Actually, everything we had on was in the way.