“Just a dance,” I confirm.
She puts down the cloth and takes my hand. I pull her close and slide my arm around her waist. Her head tucks under my chin and it feels so right to have her pressed against me, I don’t know how I’ve breathed for the last twenty years without her in my arms.
I don’t do much more than sway to the singing. I don’t want to fall and drag her to the ground. But that seems to be enough as she moves with me. Her body presses against me in all the right places. I want to do so much more than dance with her tonight.
“What are we doing?” she murmurs.
I don’t have a good answer, and I don’t want to let her go. “Dancing.”
She makes a small noise that could be agreement or disbelief but doesn’t pull away. “You don’t want to dance.”
“I do…” but that’s not all. But if I rush in will she run away. She’s been burned before.
She tilts her head and looks up at me, then reaches up on her tip toes to kiss me. I stumble back off balance and drag her with me. I catch myself on a table and she claims my lips.
I drown in her kiss. She still tastes like the honey liquor shots, hot and sweet. If anyone were to walk in now, I don’t know what they’d think—that I was taking advantage of Shay’s ex, or that she was finally stepping out of his shadow?
My hand slides down to cup her denim covered ass cheek. I spread my legs and pull her in tight. With her pressed against me, there is no doubting the way I feel or that I had more than dancing on my mind.
“Just dancing?” She moves against me.
“Maybe not.” I cup her jaw. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”
Her teeth rake over her lower lip, but her gaze is steady as she thinks. I can almost hear the wheels turning. “Just tonight.”
She puts her finger over my lips before I can speak. “I don’t need your promises of faery, and so on. I’ve been there and done that, and I have a life now. But it would be nice to have a man in my bed.”
But I want to give her faery.
But without her running the café, where will riders meet—not that it will be my problem as I’ll be back home—however we’ve come to rely on her. Lindsay is an integral part of being a rider now.
“Agreed?” she removes her finger.
“Agreed.”For the moment.Instead of avoiding her, I will stop by, even though the café is several days' ride away from my area. I will set about wooing her, claiming her, until she wants more than just sex.
I let her lead me upstairs.
Upstairs, the house is quiet and dark. She doesn’t bother to turn on lights, just lets the moonlight guide us to her room. I kiss her, needing to taste her again. When we touch, it’s like static over my skin, like standing in a storm and being able to taste the wild, untamed beauty.
I run my fingers through the short strands of her hair. When she was younger, she wore it long, but I like the way it frames her face perfectly. She slides her hands under my jacket, and I shrug out of it. The leather drops to the floor. Then I’m undoing her shirt, eager to taste her skin.
What had started off slow now becomes a rush to strip and explore. I run my fingers over her curves, the peaks of her breasts, loving the feel of her hard nipples against my palm, before taking one in my mouth.
She squirms and gasps, but she doesn’t pull away.
My hand finds her pussy, already wet and slick and ready. I slide my fingers into her, enjoying the tight feel of her channel as I finger fuck her. Her heartbeat quickens and her nails dig into my shoulders as she steadies herself. My thumb rubs against her clit and she comes. I claim her mouth again, hungry for her, half expecting her to change her mind and kick me out.
She pulls me toward the bed, and we tangle ourselves in the sheets before I move over her. Her legs hook around my hips, dragging me closer. I’ve waited for so long, I don’t want to rush, but her need fuels mine and I sink into her with a groan.
I need her like air and magic.
We move together, hips working, breath mingled, heartbeats racing. She comes again and I tumble after her. For a moment everything is perfect, as though everything is as it should be. She is still my one.
Lindsay stares up at me breathlessly, her fingertips tracing circles on the back of my neck. I can feel the words forming on her lips. And I know I’m not going to like them.
5
Lindsay
