Tall, Dark and Divine (6 page)

Tall order. Brita was a goddess. Mortals reacted differently to her than they did to one another. “I’m not sure I can manage that.”

The lip started quivering again, and Annie’s eyes filled with tears. “Fine,” Eros said, much against his better judgment. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” Immediately she was all smiles again. It seemed the walk through the rain was having the opposite effect than the one he’d wanted. Instead of getting less drunk, she seemed to be getting more so. She was clinging to his arm now, wobbling in the crazy shoes, and one of her breasts, heavy and soft, was pressed against his arm through the layers of clothing.

Harry really was an idiot. Surely he knew—had to know—that he didn’t stand a chance with Brita. Only a blind man could avoid noticing the way she looked at Dion, and whatever else Harry was—the idiot—he wasn’t blind.

Or maybe he was, if he didn’t notice Annie standing right in front of him.

She was a whole lot more than he deserved, the jackass. But if she wanted him, Eros would do his best to get him for her. It was the least he could do, after encouraging her to humiliate herself.

Although how the hell he was going to stop Harry from hurting her feelings again, he had no idea. Short of striking the man dumb.

“This is it.”

Annie slowed her steps outside one of the many brownstone apartment buildings dotting this part of Astoria. Eros looked up at it. “This is where you live?”

She nodded. “Top floor. You wanna come upstairs? Have a cup of coffee or something? I think I may have a bottle of wine somewhere.”

“I don’t think I’d better.” She was looking very pretty standing there in the rain, with her eyes unfocused and her lips parted and her face dewy from the moisture in the air. Not to mention the dress plunging dangerously low over her breasts, and those red shoes. And then there was the knowledge that she’d gone out tonight looking for Mr. Right Now.

He might not be able to offer her anything else, but he could definitely be Mr. Right Now.

She nodded, as if it were what she’d expected, and turned away, letting go of his arm. Only to stagger and almost fall before he could catch her. “Whoa.”

“Whoa.” She smiled up at him, her pupils dilated and her breasts mashed against his chest. He was pretty sure she had no idea what she was doing. “I think I’m a little tipsy. What do you think?”

He thought she was a whole lot more than just a little tipsy. “I think maybe I should make sure you get up the stairs. It’s a long way to the top floor. Especially in those shoes.” And the last thing he wanted was for her to fall and roll back down. She’d break her neck. Or at least both those pretty ankles.

Annie nodded with the solemnity of the very drunk. “A hundred and fourteen steps. I counted.”

“No elevator?”

She shook her head, and the small action made her wobble again. Eros firmed his grip on her arms. “Do you have your keys?”

She dug in her bag. After a few tries, she managed to fish out a keychain she dangled in front of him triumphantly.

“Thank you.” He took the keys from her and kept them in one hand while he wrapped the other arm securely around her waist. “Up you go, then.”

She moved obediently up the three steps to the front door, where it took him a minute to find the right key to fit in the lock. When they were inside the building, he steered her to the bottom of the staircase and stopped, looking up.

He glanced at her. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“‘Course I can.” She got her foot onto the first step and tried to follow with the rest of her body, only to topple backward, right into his arms. “Oops.”

Oops was right. “To hell with this,” Eros said, and scooped her up. She squealed and kicked, and he added, “Don’t make this any harder than it is. Just be quiet and I’ll have you upstairs in a minute.” He started climbing.

“I’m too heavy,” Annie said.

“No, you’re not. You don’t weigh much at all.” He was a fucking god. He could carry weights a lot heavier than Annie Landon. “Although it’d be easier if you didn’t squirm.”

“I’m not squirming,” Annie said.

“Yes, you are.” Her movements had tossed her skirt high up on her thighs so he was treated to a lovely display of slender calves, soft knees, and thighs with just enough padding to make a welcoming cradle for a man. Not to mention those shoes, which were taking up a lot more real estate in his head than he wanted them to. He put on a little extra speed and got to the top floor a bit more quickly than a mortal man would have been able to. Hopefully she was too drunk to realize it.

“Wow.”

When he put her down in front of her door, she gazed up at him, her eyes huge and shiny with admiration. “You’re really strong. You’re not even breathing hard.”

Sure he was. Although not from exertion.

“I told you. You’re not heavy.” He moved her back a step. “Here. You just stand right there and hold up this wall while I find the key.”

She nodded obediently. It took a moment, and felt longer, to sift through the various keys on her ring, but eventually he had the door open. “There you go. Home, safe and sound.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

But she didn’t move.

“You can stop holding up the wall now,” Eros said.

“It’s not gonna fall?”

“It won’t. I promise.” Gods, just how drunk was she?

She nodded but didn’t make a move for the door. Just stood there, leaning on the wall, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at him. So he did the only thing he could do. Reached for her arm and tugged. “C’mon. It’s time to go inside.”

She came along, as docilely as a child. He closed the door behind them and looked around.

Like most apartments in New York, Annie’s was small. They were standing in a tiny entry with a small galley kitchen through a doorway to their left. She had hung a beaded curtain in the opening, and the beads clicked together in the draft he had created when he opened the front door. A small living room was ahead, with a smaller bedroom and a tiny bath in the back. The furnishings were eclectic, fun, a mixture of styles and colors, while the walls were painted a neutral off-white.

“Nice place.”

“Thank you,” Annie said, looking around as if she’d never been there before.

“Let me get your coat.” She probably wouldn’t think to take it off on her own.

“Thank you.” She stood quietly and let him pull the jacket from her shoulders and down her arms. There was a rack with a few hooks to the right of the door, and he hung it there. When he was finished, she was still just standing there looking around.

He did the same. “This is it, right? Your apartment?”

“Sure.” She glanced at him. “It looks smaller with you in it.”

Funny, the walls were closing in on him just a bit, too. He ran a finger under his collar. The place smelled like her, like sugar and vanilla, and it was difficult to catch his breath. He glanced at the door. “I should probably go.”

She nodded. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“You’re welcome.”

But he didn’t walk to the door, and she didn’t look away from him, and her eyes were big and soft, her expression wide open and vulnerable. Her lips looked soft, too, and so did the tops of her breasts, that he could see above the neckline of the dress. She was standing too close. Just close enough that he could bend and capture those lips with his own.

So he did, against his better judgment.

Chapter Eight

Holy cow
.

She had read books in which the heroine dribbled like cooked spaghetti to puddle at the hero’s feet, but Annie had never expected to be on the receiving end of that kind of kiss herself. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss, in her experience. Some men were better at kissing than others. Some were too grabby, while others didn’t know how to use their tongues properly, and a few just sort of stood there, leaving her to do most of the work and hoping she’d tacitly clue them in on what she liked in the process.

Ross didn’t do any of those things. He was in total control from the second his lips found hers, and he seemed to know instinctively what she liked. The kiss was light, his lips soft and undemanding, giving her the chance to push him away if she wanted. When she didn’t—
what, am I crazy?
—the tip of his tongue came out to lick at the corner of her mouth, and that’s when Annie’s knees turned to Jell-O, and she had to latch onto Ross’s lapels with both hands to keep on her feet.

She hadn’t intended it as an invitation, but she wasn’t about to complain when he wrapped both arms around her waist.

He was stronger than she’d anticipated. She was pretty sure Harry would have had a problem hauling her up five flights of stairs, but Ross hadn’t even been breathing hard when they reached the top. The arms that wrapped around her now were hard through the layers of fabric, and so was the rest of him.

Oh, God. So is the rest of him.

She was plastered against him from thighs to chest, and there was no mistaking what was poking her in the stomach.

Maybe he was more ready to move on than he’d thought he was. Or maybe he was just looking for a bit of a diversion, to help him forget his ex-wife for an hour or two.

Either way, it was fine with her. Annie had gone out hoping to find someone to spend some time with, and if Ross wanted to deliver, she wasn’t about to turn him down. It wasn’t every day a girl had the chance to spend the night with a Greek god. So she melted against him, opened her mouth under his, and ran her hands up to his shoulders and from there into his hair, to run the springy curls through her fingers. He tasted of red wine and spicy male, and something else, something she couldn’t place, otherworldly and intoxicating. He tasted of sunshine and starlight and warm winds, all things she couldn’t eat or drink, with maybe a bit of honey mixed in for good measure. Warm and sweet and crisp and exciting, all at the same time. It made her head spin…or maybe that was Ross, too.

Here they were, still upright and fully dressed, and it was already the best sexual experience of Annie’s life.

When she pushed her hands under the suit jacket and shoved it off his shoulders, he removed his arms from her waist for a moment to shrug it off. She waited for him to ask if she was sure about this—it had happened awfully quickly, and after he’d told her he wasn’t ready to get involved, too—but he didn’t say anything, just tilted his head the other way and went back to kissing her.

So he didn’t want to talk. Fine.

Annie busied herself with unbuttoning his shirt and tugging it out of his waistband. He was perfectly made, his skin like warm silk against her palms, and once she had pushed the crisp shirt off his shoulders to puddle at his feet, she touched every part of him she could reach: his trim waist, the hard muscles of his back and stomach, his broad shoulders and strong arms. He groaned when her fingers brushed over a taut nipple, and she absorbed the sound into her mouth, dizzy and delighted that she could give him pleasure.

So far, he had seduced her with only his mouth, with his smell and taste and the cleverness of his tongue, but now his hands slipped down her back to pull her closer. She could feel his hips tilt and the hard ridge behind his zipper nudge her. It had been a while, but she recognized the movement for the question it was.
Are you sure you want this?

She rubbed back against him.
Yes. God, yes!

“Wrap your legs around my waist.”

His voice was uneven, breathless and rough like velvet, causing goose bumps to trickle across her skin.

I’m too heavy
, Annie thought, and did it anyway.

She thought he’d carry her to bed, that he’d want to put her down as soon as possible, but he didn’t. Instead he moved her up against the wall, the plaster cool against her back and the heat of him against her front. When he bent his head to run his mouth across the swell of her breast, she shivered, her fingers tightening in his hair. The feel of his tongue dipping into the cleft between her breasts caused her whole body to arch. He groaned again, his breath hot against her skin, as the movement pushed her against him,
right
there
, where they both wanted to be joined—

Through the blood pounding in her ears, Annie heard him mutter something in a language she didn’t understand. Greek?

Probably. She was just about to ask him what he’d said when he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes almost black and swirling with heat. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Whatever it was, he could feel free to keep doing it.

“Can’t wait any longer.” He didn’t pause for her answer, just turned from the wall with her still in his arms and carried her through the living room into the bedroom.

He put her on the bed and stopped only long enough to shuck pants and underwear before following her down. She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. It was dark in the bedroom, and he hadn’t turned on the lights, so she wasn’t able to get a good look at him, but judging from the size of the equipment pressed intimately against her, it wasn’t because he was ashamed. He had nothing to worry about.

She, on the other hand…

The feeling of his hands on her thighs, skimming the dress up to her hips, distracted her from her need to record her own inadequacies. When he hooked his fingers in the lace of her panties and tugged, she arched her hips to help him pull them down.

He pushed her thighs apart then, and although she knew he couldn’t see her in the dark, it was still a little embarrassing to be so exposed. She didn’t know him very well, after all, and there were those extra fifteen pounds…

But then he touched her—his fingers slipping through her wetness, briefly, too briefly, making sure she was ready for him, just for a second or two—and Annie felt her body clench around his hand, as if trying to hold on to him. He murmured something, still in Greek, his voice soothing, even as he pulled his hand away.

“Please…”

“Shhhh. I know.” He positioned himself between her thighs. Annie felt the hard bulk of him at the entrance to her body, and as he pushed forward, she had to focus on keeping her body soft and welcoming; the intrusion was strange and almost a little painful after so long.