Bachelor Number Four (8 page)

Read Bachelor Number Four Online

Authors: Megan Hart

Philip smiled. “Let’s just have a good time, okay?”

She nodded and smiled in return, though hers felt false. “Okay.”

To her surprise, from then on, she did. Philip was adept at weaving the conversation around points that interested both of them and steering it away from subjects that led to awkward silence. He asked her about her job without sounding patronizing, her kids without sounding insincere, her interests without sounding flattering.

Dinner was over before she knew it, and she’d actually eaten. They shared a slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Philip paid the bill, and by the time they were out on the sidewalk again, Arden was even more surprised to recognize she didn’t want the night to end.

“I had a good time,” she said. “I mean, I’m having a great time.”

Did that sound too eager?

Apparently not, because Philip grinned. “Me, too. Want to go someplace else? Or do you need to head home for the babysitter?”

“No. The girls are with my parents for the night.” Shit. That sounded like a come-on.

His eyes flickered, his grin widened a trifle, but he didn’t pounce on the chance to seduce her. “Do you want to go have a drink? Go dancing maybe?”

Arden laughed out loud. “I haven’t been dancing in forever.”

“Then it’s time, don’t you think?” He held out his hand. “C’mon. The Cadillac Grille has dancing, and it’s right down the street. Nothing too upscale, I promise. I think it’s ’80s night.”

She laughed again. “Sold!”

The Cadillac Grille was packed. Arden glimpsed some familiar faces from high school, but they belonged to people she hadn’t spoken to for more than fifteen years. It felt funny to go over and start chatting, so she kept close to Philip.

He took her by the hand to lead her through the crowd, and she didn’t mind. His hand was large, the fingers long, and he engulfed her hand with warmth that didn’t feel threatening at all. It felt nice. When was the last time anyone other than her kids had held her hand?

They found a small table and Philip ordered drinks. Dark beer on draught for him, a wine cooler for her. “I’m a real lightweight,” Arden said over the sound of the music coming from the tiny dance floor. “I’d better only have one.”

Philip nodded. “Sure. Want to dance?”

She wasn’t quite ready to tackle that, but was saved from rejecting him by the arrival of their drinks. She sipped her drink and toyed with her napkin. The music and noise of the crowd made conversation difficult, and Philip didn’t push it. Instead, he tapped his fingers along with the beat.

Being with him had somehow become easier than she’d expected. She risked another look. He was Fine with a capital F, as Heather would say, and when he turned to catch her gaze with his own, Arden didn’t look away. His smile sent a shiver down her spine, straight between her thighs. Her nipples perked. Definite attraction.

For one instant, Jason’s face flashed in her mind, but Arden pushed it away. Jay was dead. She was not. If she wanted to get back to living, now might be the night to do it.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s dance!”

He got up and followed her to the smaller room where the dance floor was set up. She’d picked the song because it was one of her favorites and easy to dance to, but it ended just as they got to the dance floor. The DJ decided the time had come to encourage all the couples bumping and grinding to get a little more serious. He started playing Madonna’s ballad “Crazy For You”.

Too late to back out now.

Philip pulled Arden into his arms as smoothly as though she’d always been there. Her cheek rested against his chest. His hands cupped her waist. He led the dance, and like everything else he’d proven good at this evening, he was a good dancer too.

She was horny, Arden thought as Philip’s hands stroked her back and tangled in her hair. Her breasts ached, the nipples pebbled and rubbing against the silk of her bra. Between her legs, her clit began to throb with every brush against her satin panties. Her thighs rubbed, creating delicious friction, and slickness coated her.

He’d be a great kisser, too, she just knew it, but Arden could not find the courage to lift her face to his. They’d just met. But wasn’t this why she’d gone out with him tonight? It was stupid to fool herself into thinking this was just a normal blind date.

Philip took the lead. His lips brushed the side of her neck. Her clit jumped, her nipples got even harder, though she wouldn’t have thought they could. Her breath caught. He kissed her again, his hands making sensuous patterns on her back, sliding over her ass, moving up her sides to brush his thumbs on the underside of her breasts.

Arden looked up, meaning to tell him she wasn’t ready, that she should just go home, but she didn’t have time to say anything because he kissed her. And it was good. Damn fine, she heard Lida’s whisper in her head, and Arden opened her mouth to Philip’s lips.

His tongue dove inside, but didn’t plunder. He took his time, stroking and teasing her with his tongue and lips until her entire body quivered with arousal. She opened her eyes when he pulled away. The song had ended, replaced by another bouncy ’80s pop tune. They’d look like idiots if they kept slow dancing, but Arden wasn’t sure she could stand if he let go of her, since her knees had gone so weak.

Philip pulled her toward the edge of the dance floor, out of the way of the other dancers exuberantly bouncing to Cyndi Lauper’s “She Bop”. He tilted his head to look at her, like he was waiting for her permission to kiss her again, and something in her eyes must have given it because he did.

The second kiss was even better than the first. Like that first bite of chocolate after dieting for a month, the first drink of cold water after running in the sun, the smoothness of a soft pillow and flannel sheets after undressing in a winter-cold room, Philip’s kiss transported Arden out of the tiny, riotous bar and straight into a lust-induced fantasy.

She could do this. Take this man home and fuck the living daylights out of him, no strings attached, just give her body the relief it craved. He was gorgeous, he was nice…he was waiting.

But she couldn’t bring herself to just say,
Let’s blow this Popsicle stand and screw like bunnies.

Philip nodded at the dance floor. “Want to dance some more?”

Again, he’d said the perfect thing. She did want to dance. Dance the way she’d done in eighth grade, wild limbs and flying hair, dance until she was exhausted. Because it was fun.

He pulled her back onto the dance floor and they began to bop. At first, despite herself, Arden felt self-conscious. Then, looking around, she realized she had no reason to be. Most everyone in the place was half snockered, or didn’t care. Everyone was dancing like junior high students. She wouldn’t be out of place at all.

So she danced. And it was fun. More fun than she’d had in…well, she couldn’t remember how long, and Philip, good sport, kept right up with her. He bought her drinks, too, and danced attention on her in a way that made her feel like the Prom Queen she’d never been. It might be because he figured she’d be a sure thing tonight, but even though there were definitely prettier women there, more scantily clad (she saw Samantha’s mother there, too, bottle-blonded and Mary Kayed, resplendent in leather pants and a tank top) he didn’t pay attention to any of them, even when they tried to catch his eye.

He left her to go to the bathroom, and while he was gone, Arden felt adrift. Not lonesome. More like uncomfortably aware of how much a meat market this place was for a single woman without a date. She kept her eyes flicking back and forth so as not to attract attention. When she saw Philip from across the crowded room, his blue eyes shining in the ’80s disco ball reflected light, it was like a voice came out of the heavens and whispered in her ear, “Tonight.”

She’d made her decision. Tonight, Arden Walsh was going to go all the way. With Philip, super-stud, who came so highly recommended.

“You’re smiling.” He leaned over to shout in her ear. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Arden replied and linked her fingers through his. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

He nodded, understanding. His tongue swiped across his lips and the glint in his eyes didn’t come from the disco ball any longer. At least, she didn’t think so. It had been a long time, Arden thought, but not so long she couldn’t remember what it was like to see lust in a man’s eyes.

It gave her a warm feeling. Hot, actually. Heat seared her nipples, between her thighs, the sensitive place at the back of her neck, the spot Philip’s fingers now stroked as he led her expertly through the gyrating throng toward the front door.

Just before they got there, Arden saw him. Shane Donner, staring at her from a tiny side table. His eyes were in shadow, but she’d recognize that full, pouting mouth anywhere. It quirked at her, not quite a smile, but more than a frown, as she passed. Her eyes sought his in the darkness of his corner, but she couldn’t catch his gaze, though she was more certain than anything he was staring right at her.

Then the moment passed. The door opened. Philip drew her out, his palm warm on hers and his fingers tightening as he pulled her into his arms just off the concrete steps leading up to the bar. His mouth found hers, his kiss as sweet and erotic as the other two had been, but this time, he added a question.

“Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

A simple question, and a considerate one, but Arden knew they both understood what he was asking. She nodded, not quite able to speak. Philip kissed her again, softer this time, then let his lips rest on her forehead for a moment before he whispered in her ear, “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t glad you said yes.”

The warm moistness of his tongue teased the curve of her ear, and she shivered. Lust knocked her knees loose, or maybe it was the wine coolers, and she had to hold tight to his arm to keep from stumbling. She was really going to do this. Sleep with a man she barely knew.
Fuck
a man she barely knew, she corrected herself, using the blunt word to reinforce her decision.

They agreed he’d follow her to her house in his car. The five-minute drive seemed to last forever, an eternity before she pulled into the narrow, cracked driveway and slipped the car into the garage. She met him at the side door to the house, the more private entrance. She couldn’t do anything about his car in the drive, but she didn’t need the entire block to be able to see him going in with her.

Before she opened the door, Philip kissed her again. More passion this time, enough to push her up against the metal door to the house. He lifted her leg and caressed her thigh, urging her to press herself against him. Taken by surprise, Arden let him. His hand held her leg as he dipped a little to push his cock against her crotch.

Arden let out a small sound of surprise Philip must have taken for assent because he rocked harder against her. His mouth opened more, his tongue twirling on her own. His other hand came up to caress her breast, finding the nipple with ease and thumbing it until it stood out in a taut, hot peak. His mouth found it next, wetting her shirt and capturing the bud of flesh between his lips, while his hand went to probe and stroke between her legs.

Sensation assaulted her, and though she’d wanted this, asked for it, had even anticipated it, all at once it overwhelmed her. She pushed on Philip’s shoulders. His hand moved faster between her legs, his fingers unerringly finding her clit and rubbing it through her underpants. Her hips moved and her pelvis rocked against his hand because, damn, it felt good to have a man’s touch there. Behind Arden’s closed eyes she saw dark, thick hair, shifting blue-green eyes, an arrogant smile. She smelled Drakkar Noir instead of Polo, felt the smoothness of a creaking black leather jacket beneath her fingers instead of smooth cotton.

“Philip, wait.”

He looked up, face cast into a mask of shadow by the filtered light of the streetlamp at the front of the house. When she didn’t speak, he eased off, still holding her against the door so she didn’t fall, but no longer pushing his hand against her. He licked his lips and blinked as though trying to get some measure of control.

“Arden, I thought you wanted this.”

“I thought I did too.”

Philip smiled and stepped back. He ran his hands through his hair, rumpling it. The tousling made him look disheveled and delicious, a combination Arden found very appealing, but she didn’t lean over to kiss him again.

“It’s…a little scary,” she admitted at last.

Philip nodded and put his hands in his pockets. The front of his pants bulged with an erection only moments ago Arden would have been delighted to see. Now it made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She averted her eyes.

“I understand,” Philip said. “Lida told me about your husband and everything. Believe me, I wouldn’t have—”

“I know—”

“I’m not a total slime—”

They both stopped and Arden chuckled, embarrassed. She put a hand to her burning cheek. “I’m sorry, Philip. This was probably a mistake.”

“Ah, c’mon. Don’t say that.”

She couldn’t deny he was charming. “I did have a great time. Really. Thank you.”

“I had a good time too. Can I call you?”

His question took her aback. “You want to call me?”

Philip grinned, teeth flashing white in the dark. “Of course I do.”

“I guess that would be all right.” She didn’t sound enthused. “I mean, that would be great. Very nice. Yes. Sure.”

“Okay, then. Well, have a good night.”

“Thanks again,” she called to his back, but Philip didn’t turn, just gave a little half-wave without turning.

She let herself into the dark house, her body still flooded with the sensations of Philip’s kisses and caresses. Regret panged, but she forced it away. It wouldn’t have been fair to him to just…use him, while fantasizing about Shane. The thought made her laugh. Did guys even care about that?

It wouldn’t have been fair to herself, she amended. Sleeping with—fucking—Philip would probably have been great. Just what she needed. Release, a fresh start, whatever Lida wanted to call it. But how could she have sex with Philip when Shane Donner’s face was all she could see? His mouth the only one she could taste?

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