Only for the Night (If Only Book 2) (14 page)

“Come’ere.”

She didn’t protest, but neither did she look at him. She didn’t have to. The hard nipples poking him through her shirt told him exactly what she was feeling. Bold nipples and shy eyes. This woman would be the death of him.

“You snuck out on me this afternoon,” he said.

That got her head up. “I—” A frantic glance around, then a hard swallow. “Uh, yeah, I guess I did.”

Good girl.
Sage wasn’t afraid to admit what she’d done, even when her actions embarrassed her. Considering what he’d been doing in the shower when she left the apartment, it was probably a good thing she was gone by the time he emerged anyway. His willpower had been at an all-time low.

Over Sage’s head he noticed Merry’s rapt attention centered on them. Alice joined her friend on the side of the dance floor. Alice sent him a satisfied nod before heading for the bar, Merry trailing behind.

Sage was trying to pull away from him.

Unfortunately he didn’t want to release her. So he didn’t. “Where are you going?”

“I should probably go help…”

“Help with what?” The music started up again, and he set them swaying. Sage naturally followed his rhythm. “Everything’s taken care of. Alice is with Merry. The bar runs itself. There’s nothing for you to do but be with me.”

She glanced up at him from beneath her bangs like she so often did, her eyes darkened by the shadows. Mysterious. Mesmerizing. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You will when I’m through.

“Why not? It’s just a dance, right?” He guided her into a turn, sliding his thigh between hers.

Sage’s breath hitched, her answer hoarse. “Right.”

He turned her again, and this time Sage grabbed a handful of his shirt right over his chest. Her fingers brushed his nipple. A small, hungry sound escaped him.

Sage’s chin jerked up, and their eyes met. “Hank.”

His name on her lips tightened every muscle in his body, pulled a growl of need to his lips that he forced back. Sage was small, delicate. Breakable. He wouldn’t be rough, but he was too far gone for distance. Definitely too far to consider stopping. He just needed her on board. Staring into her eyes, he moved his hands lower, lower. Her ass felt as good against his palms as he’d always known it would, but he didn’t grab at her. He used his hold to rock her gently along his thigh, feeling the tension gathering in his groin all over again as the softness of her belly cupped him. Her sweet sugar scent filled his lungs, and he knew then that he held heaven right there in his arms.

Sage seemed to feel the same. Instead of drawing back, she snuggled closer. The ridge of her pelvis stroked across his erection. God, she fit him perfectly.

Hank tucked his mouth close to her ear. “Careful, baby.”

She did it again, a moan rising to her lips, muffled quickly in the hollow of his shoulder.

“Sage.”

She shook her head, straightened. A wash of pink colored her cheeks. “I—”

Cupping her warm blush in his hands, Hank gently tipped her head until embarrassed eyes met his. “Stop. Stop worrying, stop planning, stop holding yourself back—just let go. I’m here; I’ll catch you.”

If only you would.
She just didn’t believe that anymore. She’d tried so hard to control everything, to be strong, to do it all. “I’m scared to.”

The truth came out as no more than a whisper, but Hank heard it. His strong gaze didn’t waver. “You’ve trusted me this far, Sage. Keep trusting me. I won’t hurt you, not if I can help it.”

She closed her eyes against a rush of tears.
But what if I want you to?
She knew what Hank meant—her heart—but he didn’t know what he was asking. He didn’t know what she needed. How could he take care of her if she wasn’t honest with him?

Her deeper, hidden needs weren’t something she could discuss right now—and she didn’t have to, not for a one-night stand. Was that what Hank wanted? What she wanted? Could she have sex without begging him for more?

She didn’t know. A part of her, the part that wanted the recipe in front of her and the rules and steps laid out, needed the answer before letting go. The other part, the one that had risked everything to leave LA behind, urged her to leap first and figure out the logistics later. As the two sides warred in her mind, she pressed herself tighter into Hank’s embrace.

“Hey.” Hank leaned back just enough to see her eyes, the concern in his tugging at her. Only then did she realize she was shaking. “You can say no, Sage. No strings attached. Whatever you want.”

She ignored the frustrated need for him to command her and took a deep breath. The beat of Hank’s heart beneath her hand, the warm scent of his skin, the sheer size and power of the body against hers sank into her soul, filled her to bursting. She could be content with whatever he gave her. The rest could wait.

She released her tension with the air in her lungs. Grabbed her courage with both hands. “I want…you.”

The feral heat flashing in Hank’s eyes set her core on fire. She clenched her hands, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his chest. “What about you?” She knew the answer, but she needed to hear him say it.

“I need you beneath me more than I need my next breath, Sage.”

Why did he have to be so good with words?

Songwriter, remember?

One of Hank’s hands slid to her nape, gripped her there, the pressure rough, urgent. His fingers dug in just like hers had, setting off the slightest bite of delicious pain. Her eyes slid closed—

Immediately the pressure eased. A small sound—disappointment—escaped her, but when she looked up, that searing heat still filled Hank’s hazel eyes, reassuring her like nothing else could.

“We’re leaving,” he said, voice gone ragged.

As if she’d argue. She let him lead her, the sure grip on her neck impossible to resist for all its gentleness. Past dancing couples, past Merry and Alice and their knowing glances. Sage let it all slip away, her focus on the front door and her need to hurry, hurry, hurry. Hank didn’t let her. He kept a steady pace across the room, kept control. Most women would find it annoying to have a man guide her with a hand on her neck, but for Sage it was perfect. How did he know? Every step, every second Hank made her wait built Sage’s anticipation to critical-mass level. She was shaking again, but this time fear had nothing to do with it.

It was automatic for him, not a dominant act. At least not consciously. That had to be it. And despite the inkling of disappointment that accompanied the thought, she’d take unconscious if it was all she could get. Hank fit her even better than he realized.

He’ll never realize, Sage. He’s not a Dom and you can’t be building him up to be. Accept what you’re given and enjoy it while it lasts.
She could be happy with just sex—how could she not be? This was Hank, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t need to be a Dom for this to be good for her.

They reached the heavy oak-and-glass door to the bar, and Hank pushed it open. Sage sucked the warm night air into her tight lungs. Together they angled toward her car, parked in a far corner. The hand at her nape dropped; Hank held it out for her keys, reminding her to retrieve them. She passed them over quickly—anything to get his hands on her again—but instead, Hank unlocked her door and opened it before passing her keys back, all without a touch.

“I’ll meet you back at the apartment,” he told her. “Be careful.”

She glanced up at him in the dim night, uncertainty suddenly rearing its ugly head. “Hank?”

His big hand came up to cup her chin—gently, always so gently—drawing her closer. “Yeah?” he breathed against her mouth.

For a moment she couldn’t recall what she needed to say; everything in her was focused on his lips, his touch. Then she remembered.

“I just need to know, is this…” She swallowed down her fear. “Is this only for tonight…or…”

The intensity in Hank’s eyes went fierce, lighting up something dark in her soul. “What do you think, Sage?”

Did she have to say? “No?”

Their lips touched, melded; then Hank drew back. “It’s for as long as you want, baby. As long as I can get.”

“Oh.”

Hank followed her back to the market. As his Jeep pulled up next to her car, Sage felt a shiver go through her. They were actually doing this. She didn’t know if it was the stupidest thing or the smartest thing she’d ever done—she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting Hank’s hands on her as fast as possible. She was out and standing at the bottom of the steps by the time Hank secured the Jeep. He didn’t tease her about it, though. No, he looked about as far from teasing as she could imagine, more predator than anything. Those eyes gleamed in the dim light of the moon as he stalked over to the bottom of the steps, never leaving her face. But his hands were careful when they gripped her arms and moved her closer. Sage melted into him, opening her mouth the second his lips met hers.

The kiss she got was brief but searing. Hank cursed against her lips, then immediately stepped back. Sage wanted to curse too. She was hungry for him, the buildup of need over the past few weeks riding her hard, making her impatient. She wanted Hank just as impatient; she wanted him to let go, but he seemed to have infinite control. It was enough for doubt to swoop in.

Hank’s fingers bit into her biceps the tiniest bit, the barest edge of hunger. “Stop trying to distract me, woman,” he said. “If I put my hands on you now, we won’t make it up the stairs before I take you.”

Oh.
Oh.
“I couldn’t care less.”

He kissed her again, and this time he gifted her with his tongue. She let him in, closed her lips around him, and sucked gently, needing to keep him with her, in her, however she could get him. Hank groaned as if he was in agony.

And then he pulled away. Opening her eyes, Sage swept her gaze over his face and down, taking in his hungry expression, the fullness of his wet lips, the heaving chest she suddenly realized she’d forgotten to touch. She reached out a hand to rectify the oversight, only to have Hank intercept her.

He brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss, reconnecting them, calming her. When he spoke, the rough catch of his breath filled her world. “I care.” He turned her around to face the staircase, removing temptation for them both. “Let’s go.”

Sage reached the door just ahead of Hank. A distinct whine on the other side brought her very close to screaming. “Knight.”

Hank grunted, nothing more, and went to work on the lock. Knight shot through the gap between door and jamb as soon as it was big enough for him to squeeze through.

“Knight!”

Hank’s barked order stopped the dog a mere two steps down. He glanced back over one shoulder, doggy tongue lolling.

“Go and return.”

Knight sneezed, the nod of his head seeming an acknowledgment of Hank’s command, and then he was down the stairs. Hank opened the door farther for Sage to pass.

“Will he be all right?” she asked. Waiting for Knight was not at the top of her agenda, but neither would she leave the dog in danger.

“He’ll do his business, have a run, then return to the deck. It’s warm out.” Hank moved close, his hands tunneling into her hair. She bit her lip, drawing her attention away from the need to have him pull it, use it to move her how he wanted her. “He’ll be fine.”

“Thank God,” she murmured before Hank took her kiss. His lips opened hers. Sage couldn’t stop herself; she pushed into his mouth, searching out his tongue, exploring the warm, masculine taste of him. Their tongues dueled lightly, the sensation bringing her up on tiptoes. Her hands landed on his chest. So hard, yet so warm. Giving. His body fascinated her, the power that radiated from him like it was central to his being, yet he didn’t use it. She had no fear that he would hurt her despite his obvious strength. That wasn’t who Hank was; she knew that much.

Hank’s hands slid under her shirt, across the bare skin of her sides, her back. Sage’s head dropped back at the sensation, at the need for more. As easy as his touch was, no rush, no hurry, he didn’t waste time—he went straight for the clasp of her bra. A deft flick and the material lost its tension around her body. He didn’t even take it off, just slid his hands around to cup her aching breasts. Sage arched her back, pushing herself harder into his touch, his heat.

“You have fantastic breasts,” he said, his thumbs finding her taut nipples and starting a slow circle guaranteed to drive her insane. “I haven’t been able to forget them, haven’t wanted to. They’re perfect.”

“You’ve barely seen them,” she managed to choke out.

Hank chuckled, the sound strained. “One look was all I needed. The sight of you naked has been seared on the backs of my eyelids ever since. I close my eyes and it’s there—when I sleep, when I blink, when I write.” His mouth brushed over hers, mimicking the action of his thumbs. Too soft, too gentle. “I’ve been going insane.”

He pinched her lightly, one nipple, then the other. Sage gripped his biceps hard. “I’m going insane now. Hurry the hell up!”

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t for him to hook an arm behind her back and dip her over it. Cool air hit her breasts as he raised her shirt just enough to give him access, then the hot shock of his mouth latching on. Trusting him to hold her steady, Sage grabbed Hank’s head and pulled him hard against her. The rhythmic draw of his mouth blacked out everything else; nothing existed but Hank and the suction sending shots of electricity from her breasts to her core and back again. She was so wet, so ready she wondered if she’d explode before he ever got inside her. No way was she letting that happen.