“Never. But you see my point”—one he now lost because her words sank in. “Okay…back up. Footlong Longfoot? What the hell is that about?”
“Tyler Longfoot. Footlong is an old nickname, from high school. I, personally, can neither confirm nor deny.”
Nor would she be able to in the foreseeable future, but just to discourage any possible curiosity on her part, he added, “I heard Junior Tillman shot him in the ‘footlong’ a couple weeks ago at Rawley’s Pub for hitting on LouAnn Doubletree. He might be shy of the mark now.”
“I heard the same thing, but I don’t believe the story. He didn’t look shy of anything while he was kissing Ellie.”
“Which brings me back to my original point. You’re not the only one who’s gotten up to something in an exam room.”
“Hot as it was, their kiss might as well have been a handshake compared to what we were doing.” She groaned and scrubbed a hand over her forehead, as if to erase the image from her mind. “I don’t know what came over me in the market this evening. I’m really sorry. Tonight was a disaster.”
God, she looked so…defeated. He wanted that expression gone—never wanted to see it on her face again. He knelt and placed her things by the chair. “I know. I promised you screaming orgasms, and I’ve yet to deliver. I consider it an epic disaster.”
“Ha. I’m an epic disaster.” She propped her elbow on her drawn-up knee, braced the heel of her hand against her forehead, and looked somewhere over his shoulder. “You’ve been here long enough to know the local news. I’m sure you’ve heard all about poor Melody and her broken engagement.”
He didn’t know what to say about that, so he kept quiet.
She sighed. Her eyes drifted back his way, and she gave him a wistful look. “I think tonight was fate’s way of telling me I’m not quite ready for screaming orgasms.”
“Bluelick, you are so ready—no, not just ready—you’re entitled to a screaming orgasm. Hell, you practically give me one just by breathing.” Yeah, maybe he wasn’t Mr. Romance, but that put a little glow back in her cheeks. “Let me prove it. Tomorrow night.”
The suggestion had her reaching for her shoes. She shoved her feet into the heels, grabbed her purse, and then stood. “Josh, I appreciate the follow-through, honestly I do, but let’s face it, I—”
“You know, despite me having my hands, and mouth, on almost every inch of you, there’s one very important thing I overlooked tonight.” While he said it, he caught her hair in a tail at the back of her head.
She blinked and swallowed. “You did?”
“Yeah.” With a twist of his wrist, he wound her hair around his hand just the way he’d imagined doing, and tugged her head back a fraction. Her gaze fixed on his. Her lips parted.
“What did you overlook?”
“This.” He brought his mouth down on hers.
He’d intended to use the kiss to show her how much she wanted to say yes to tomorrow night, but as soon as he touched her, he wasn’t sure he could wait twenty-four hours. One deep, hot sweep of his tongue inside her mouth had him ready to say yes to right then and there.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Her purse hit the ground. Her hands came up to mold to the back of his head, while her thighs parted around one of his. Her sigh slipped into his mouth along with the tip of her tongue, and the combination drove him a little bit crazy. He angled her head back more, precisely where he wanted it, and dived into the kiss. She took everything he dished out, sucking his tongue so hard he felt the pull all the way to the base of his cock. An image of him, balls-deep in her mouth, flashed through his brain and he groaned. The sensation of her teeth sinking into his lower lip had him groaning again and returning the favor until she cried out and rocked her hips against his thigh.
Fingernails scraped down his neck. Her cries grew pitchy. The pace of her movements increased, making it hard to keep their lips locked. The kiss turned slippery and imprecise, and the wildness of her response tempted him to let her keep right on chasing the prize until she hit the finish line. But a greedy part of him hit the brakes. Not because he refused to give without getting in return, but because he had a sneaking suspicion if she got what she’d been after all night, she’d be done with him. He wasn’t anywhere close to done with her yet, which meant he had to leave her wanting more.
He broke the kiss and brought his hands to her hips to still her. She made a pained sound and tightened her hold on his shoulders, trying to pull him back to her. The sight of her, with her eyes closed, her face flushed, and her lips swollen and wet from his kisses, qualified as one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen—just behind bound at the wrists and braced on an exam table, begging him not to stop.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, and watched her eyelids click open and those blue eyes focus on him.
“What?”
“We’ll finish this tomorrow night.” With that, he turned and walked to the door.
…
Finish what tomorrow night? It took a moment for his words to work their way past all her clamoring hormones, and then her mouth dropped open in disbelief. He meant this. Her. The sex. He’d wound her up again with the kiss—whoa, what a kiss—and now he wanted her to wait? She almost burst into tears. “Tomorrow night?” Every bit of disappointment she felt must have shown on her face, but he held the door open for her and grinned.
“I plan to do this right. Instant gratification is overrated.”
A decade of a bullshit engagement, a freaking firehouse tour, a night that would probably result in her getting fired from a job she really liked—there was nothing instant about this gratification he kept promising. Worse, tomorrow night wouldn’t work.
“I can’t tomorrow night. I have plans with Roger, and I can’t break them.”
His grin disappeared. “Roger, your ex?”