Lone Wolf (7 page)

She sucked in a deep breath. “So do you,” she managed to return.

“Your chariot awaits,” he said. He led her to a silver Audi Roadster, which he explained he kept parked in town, and they drove across Raven Ridge to where his helicopter waited.

After dropping Buddy off at the ranch, they flew to Missoula, talking about their weeks, Aquila, their favorite music, and Barry’s sprinkler system. It was intoxicating to be near him, and Delany often stopped talking just so she could study his profile. They both, however, carefully avoided the topic of his brothers, and his past.

When they alighted, he placed a firm, but gentle hand under one of her elbows.

“Shall we have a drink first?”

He was standing so close to her, and all she could think of was his body entwined with hers in a dark hallway. “Sure,” she said.

He nodded and steered her in the direction of Vines, a small dark bar in the basement of a boutique hotel across the street. He moved fluidly, like an athlete, and away from the familiar space of the chopper, Delany found herself tongue-tied.

They found a table in the back and ordered glasses of red wine. He watched her now like a hungry but patient animal, prepared to wait out his prey. She felt his legs slide towards hers under the table and she allowed hers to meet his, until she could feel the warmth of his wool pants against her nylons. Then his lips spread into a slow salacious smile.

“So, since we can’t have sex, do you want to talk about sex?”

“You mean you want me to talk dirty to you?”

“In a manner of speaking. I want to know what you like, what you want, what’s a no-go for you. Talking about sex can be as much of a turn on as having sex. But if you want to call it talking dirty, that’s fine too.”

Delany found her heart racing in a thrilling fashion, but she was pretty sure her cheeks had turned as crimson as her dress. “I don’t know if I can talk about sex unless I’m very drunk.”

As if on cue, their drinks arrived and Delany took a big gulp.

“Perhaps it would help if I ask some questions,” he said.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Don’t you want to know other things about me first? Like my favorite color, my parents’ professions, my childhood pets, and that I’m financially solvent?”

A smile snaked across his face. “Isn’t my line of questioning more fun? I can learn about those other things all in good time. I think you secretly want to be a little bit more wicked, don’t you?”

She found herself smiling at him, or perhaps leering, and then she felt an uncontrollable urge to giggle.

“Okay, so what’s your favorite position? Don’t overthink it. Just answer. We’re just trying to set the parameters here of what you like.”

“Man behind, standing up,” she said.

He arched a single perfect eyebrow. “And in what position do you come the hardest?”

“Me on top, riding you… hard.” She was conscious that she’d already switched from talking about depersonalized people having sex, to them having sex, to imagining them having sex. Then again, she’d been imagining them having sex all week, but now she was doing it right in front of him.

“Do you swallow?”

“Depends how you taste.”

“When it comes to your own pleasure, can you make it happen once, or multiple times back to back?”

“As many times as you want.”

“Good. Very good,” he said. He still wore a smile, but she wondered if his gaze had become more intense, and his breathing more ragged.

He stood, and the disappearance of the pressure of his legs from hers was almost gut-wrenching. But he smiled and beckoned. “Come here.”

She cocked her head but nonetheless rose. He took her hand and guided her to the corridor that led from the bar to the hotel.

Then he turned and pulled her into his arms and she barely had a chance to catch her breath before his lips were on hers in the deepest, most spine-tingling kiss she’d ever experienced. His tongue danced against hers while his hands slipped down her back to her ass, pulling her snugly against his groin. She let her hand drift up and touch his hair, while she dropped the other one to his backside and made sure he remained firmly pressed against her.

When he finally released her, his green eyes looked straight into hers, “I just needed a little reminder of how perfect your lips are.”

Back at the table, Delany finished off the last of her wine. She wasn’t sure that she needed actual wine to feel drunk, just being close to Leif was more than enough. His legs were back touching hers, and the heat and wetness that had developed in her panties while he was kissing her hadn’t abated.

The waitress arrived, and he requested the bill. Delany wondered if they were going Dutch, but he paid the bill without even looking to her to contribute.

“Can I just ask you a small question?”

He jutted his lower lip out in amusement. “You don’t have to ask to ask me a question. Just ask whatever you want.”

“When are we going to talk about what you like in bed?”

“You can ask anything you want about that, at any time. I want you to.”

He rose, and she followed suit, their bodies veering close in small dim space. She wanted to be kissing him again. Ask him about his preferences regarding sex? She didn’t know if she could. She was used to just having sex. Her assumptions regarding men’s preferences regarding sex had always been simple and few in number. Men liked sex lots. Straight men liked sex with women. Men liked every part of sex except going down on a woman, but then Leif hadn’t seemed to mind that at all. She shivered at the memory. Men would prefer to have sex every night, kind of like brushing their teeth. Men probably liked raunchier sex than women, but accommodated women’s more delicate sensitivities. But that was why they cheated and went to hookers. Men loved getting head. That pretty much summarized all her beliefs regarding men and sex. She supposed that was a whack load of cultural assumptions. But somehow talking about sex seemed more risqué than having sex.

She realized that Leif was staring at her, a faint smile twitching on his full sensuous lips. “Shall we walk for a bit?” he said. “I promise I won’t take advantage of you in any dark alleyways.”

“Pity,” she said under her breath. She imagined herself kneeling in an alleyway sucking that magnificent cock.

Outside the bar, he slipped his hand into hers, and they started to walk north up the darkening street.

“So, what was your most erotic experience ever?” His fingers in hers and the fact that they were no longer facing each other over a table seemed to loosen her tongue and inhibitions.

She felt her lips twitch into a smile. “Other than last week? One of my professors in a closet at a Christmas Party. It was against the rules to date your professors, of course. We kissed and I let him feel me up. It was somehow super hot, even though we never had sex.”

His hand had tightened when she mentioned the previous week. But he kept his voice light. “Illicitness heightens arousal.”

“You sound like you have experience with that,” she said.

“Perhaps,” he replied. “What is the most erotic thing or things you’d like to do, but have never done?”

“Sex with a stranger, sex in public, sex with several men at the same time,” she listed. Then she froze. Would Leif think that meant she wanted to sleep with his brothers? She hadn’t meant it that way. She had imagined it, of course. But she didn’t really want to do it. She loved the connection that came from being with one man. From being with Leif.

But Leif had stiffened beside her and almost let go of her hand.

“That isn’t what I meant,” she said, her heart fluttering almost painfully. “It’s a fantasy, but I don’t actually want that.”

He stopped walking and turned to face her, his green eyes serious. “I don’t want to keep you from that option, Delany. My brothers are good men. They would satisfy you, and love you, and support you. It’s not for me, anymore.”

“No,” she said. “That’s not what I want.”
That wasn’t what she wanted was it?

“I just want you to remember that it’s an option,” Leif said. “If you decide that you want to be with me, I want you to be sure about your choice.”

Leif regarded her intently for a few seconds, then he pulled her to him, tangled his hands in her hair, and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her, his mouth hot. He ran his hands up and down her body, letting one come to rest on her breast, while he thrust his hips against hers, and she almost moaned, pushing back against him, wanting to feel his teeth on her nipple, his fingers inside her. He trailed his lips down her neck, his fingers caressing her breast, teasing her nipple beneath the red fabric. Then he pulled back, his breathing heavy, and his hand still cupping her buttock.

“What I want right now,” she said through gritted teeth, “is for you to fuck me.” What was she saying? So much for finding something terribly unappealing about him.

Leif’s eyes had become more hooded and he took her hand and guided it to his groin where she could feel his rigid cock. She let out a small groan of desire.

“I have every intention of fucking you, very soon. But first I want you to trust me, completely.”

The street was almost, but not quite deserted. Cars still flew past at regular intervals and a few pedestrians made their way down the other side of the street, which was good or she would have been tempted to unzip his pants and taste him, and then try to fuck him standing up.

But as his words sank in, they brought her back to her senses. She didn’t trust him completely yet.

He dropped another kiss onto her forehead and they pulled apart and resumed walking down the street. Delany’s mind whirled.

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s get some dinner. If you’re good with it, I usually eat at the theatre when I’m going to a show.”

She shot a look over at his profile in the dim light. “We’re going to a show?”

“Kevin Lane is in town. Do you like him?”

Kevin Lane, one of the most famous country singers in the world, who had given up doing big concerts in favor of spending time with his family and doing the occasional show in small venues. She’d just finished telling Leif over and over in the chopper how much she adored Kevin Lane. “Like him? I love him.”

Leif winked. “Phew, that’s good. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t like country music.”

“You mean tonight, or in general?”

He elevated an eyebrow and gave her that lethal smile. “In general. I definitely would have had to think twice about this relationship.”

Delany gave him a sharp punch in the arm, which probably hurt her fist more than his hard bicep.

“And I have a box at the Orion, so we’ll have some privacy.”

“
You
have a box? Doesn’t the Orion have mostly musicals and opera?”

He winked at her. “Are you saying I’m not cultured enough for musicals and the opera?”

“No… I just. You’re constantly surprising me Leif Pierce.”

They took a cab to the theatre where they were ushered to a special VIP room with a buffet of fancy appetizers, small dishes and champagne flutes.

The food was divine, and she watched Leif move around the room comfortably, greeting a few people here and there, as if he’d been here multiple times before. He kept up a friendly banter while they ate and she was more and more mystified. What kind of guy was Leif, really?

The box, as promised, was private and sumptuous, and the chairs rotated to face each other. Leif settled in his seat, swiveled his chair, placed his knees on either side of hers, and pulled her in close. The warmth of his hands on her thighs and his legs against hers was exhilarating, and he darted little kisses onto her lips. He seemed to be watching her, waiting for something. The champagne had taken away some of her reticence, but the words still stuck in her throat.

“What do you like in bed?” She cringed a bit. It was too general. It didn’t have the risqué dirtiness appeal that his questions had.

“I like anything and everything. I like a beautiful woman who isn’t afraid to take risks, to say what she wants, to indulge herself, who likes pleasure and sex, but isn’t afraid to laugh when things don’t go exactly as planned. I like sex in the morning, quickies in the afternoon, handcuffs, foreplay, and plunging inside of a woman. And I won’t lie, I love having my cock sucked.”

“Oh,” she said. This seemed so inadequate a response, especially given the wetness and tingling that warmed her center as a result of his words. She should reply with something equally dirty, some offer to taste his cock. Something. But he took the need for words away by leaning in for a hungry kiss.

His hand brushed up her leg to her panties, and his fingers slipped inside to play with her clit, and feel her slickness. She arched into him with almost a growl, thrusting against his fingers, wanting to feel him inside her, but he danced around the edge of her core, driving her almost wild, as he lightly nipped her shoulder.

The lights had dropped and there were signs that the band was about to start. Delany tried to concentrate. They were in a crowded theatre with people all around them and she was nearly riding Leif. He withdrew his fingers and brushed her lips with another kiss, pulling her legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. Then he thrust against her until she had to stifle a full on mewl of need.

Soon the stage lights would come up and they would be very visible from across the theatre. She leaned back in her chair with a faint groan of frustration, leaving her groin pressed against his. He followed her cue and gently pulled away, his hands caressing her legs as he did.

The lights on the stage came up, and they turned their seats to face the performance, their knees pressed together, and Leif’s hand between her thighs.

Then Kevin Lane came on and Delany was swept away by the music and the thrill of seeing one of her favorite stars.

Leif seemed equally entranced by the performance, and as electrifying and distracting it was to have his hand between her legs, she was completely mesmerized by Kevin. The music was amazing and Delany cheered until her throat was dry. Leif squeezed her leg at appropriate moments and occasionally brushed her hair behind her ear to press a kiss on her jaw.