Tease Me, Baby, Page 4

  When she caught his gaze, she made a subtle motion for him to follow her. She didn’t have to tell him twice. And this conversation was headed into uncomfortable territory. He’d graduated college with honors, had served in the Marine Corps—and been to Afghanistan more than once, but Mrs. O’Connor had a way of making him feel like he was in elementary school when she talked to him.

  “Sweetheart, I see my husband and he’s going to push me around the dance floor. But I’ll see you later.” She smiled and squeezed his forearm once before disappearing into the crowd.

  He was sure he responded, but wasn’t sure what he’d said as he headed in the other direction. Because all his focus was on Fallon and that beacon of a blue dress. The bride had nothing on her as far as he was concerned. No one did.

  When he covertly slid out a side door into one of the hallways, he saw her opening another door about twenty feet away. He’d been to the country club before but wasn’t familiar with the layout. Her face lit up when she saw him.

  “In here,” she said before ducking out of sight behind the door.

  It turned out to be a sitting room of sorts with cushioned chairs, two couches, a minibar—and the windows that should be facing one of the pools were hidden behind floor-to-ceiling striped drapes. The only thing he cared about was the privacy factor, because he planned to get another taste of Fallon. He wanted her coming against his mouth this time. He didn’t plan to wait until later either.

  “What was my mom talking to you about?” Fallon shut the door behind him and locked it before she turned and planted her hands on her hips.

  He drank her in from head to toe, hoping she’d brought him in here for a very specific reason. She was petite and slender, and the dress she had on accentuated her curves. He wasn’t sure how she walked in those high heels but he liked what they did to her calves.

  “Brad?” She stepped closer, looking up at him expectantly. The subtle scent of her perfume wrapped around him.

  What had she asked him? “Oh, she was telling me what a busy woman you are and I’m pretty sure she insinuated that you’re dating other people.” The thought of that rankled him.

  Fallon just rolled her eyes. “Typical. I love that woman but she makes me crazy.”

  “Well, are you?” He took a step closer so that only inches separated them, inhaled her sweet vanilla scent.

  “Am I what?”

  “Dating people?”

  Her lips quirked up at the corners. “Are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “Good. You’re mine until you leave.” Smooth, man. What happened to subtle?

  Her eyes narrowed the slightest bit. “Is that right?”

  Yeah it was.

  Going on instinct, he leaned down to kiss her again. As if drawn by that same invisible force, she moved in at the same time. Once again he was desperate to taste her. They had to leave the reception soon, should probably be out there talking to people, but he didn’t much give a fuck as he backed her against some sort of bookshelf.

  Not when Fallon arched into him and linked her fingers behind his neck. As her tongue danced against his, he rolled his hips against hers. He wanted her to feel how much she affected him because this woman owned him.

  When he was in uniform—which was almost all the time—and saw her out in public he was always careful not to stare too long or linger in her presence. It wasn’t like he needed to see her to fantasize about her. But when she was right in front of him it was impossible to keep his body under control. Something that had never been a problem until her.

  Feeling her body against his, her tongue teasing his, was sensory overload. Especially when he’d already had a small taste of her.

  She dug her fingers into his shoulders and rolled her hips against his in the sexiest writhing motion that had all his muscles pulling taut. “I think we have a problem,” she murmured against his mouth, even as she slid her hands over his arms, squeezing and making appreciative moaning sounds.

  “Problem?” He nibbled along her jaw, drowning in her scent, in holding her like this.

  “This. Us. In pseudo-public places.”

  He laughed lightly as he reached her earlobe. He’d never been one for public anything, but if he had a chance to touch Fallon, taste her, the location didn’t much seem to matter. “Not a problem for me,” he murmured before biting her earlobe gently. “Besides, you locked the door.” Which meant he was going to do exactly what he’d been fantasizing about right now.

  Well, one of the things.

  His erection pushed against his zipper as he went down on his knees in front of her.

  She let out a breathy little sound as she looked down at him, confusion filling her blue eyes. Until he pushed her dress up to her hips to reveal a nude-colored thong. This was what fantasies were made of.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, even though it was just the two of them.

  Obviously she knew what he was doing, but he must have taken her off guard. Good. Her Boy Scout didn’t mind being bad with her. Without responding, he slid his fingers under the edges of the material and slowly began pulling it down her legs.

  “This is crazy.” He barely heard her this time—and she didn’t make a move to stop him. No, she stepped out of the thong when he got it to her ankles.

  Now she was free of the only thing stopping him from doing exactly what he wanted. Keeping his gaze pinned to hers, watching her eyes dilate, her chest rising and falling as she gazed back at him, had him on the wire’s edge of control.

  “Spread your legs.” Impatience he couldn’t hide laced his voice. He wanted to see all of her. Taste all of her.

  She immediately did as he said, her breathing growing even more erratic. Not taking his gaze off hers, he reached between her legs, slid a finger along her folds. Her incredibly slick folds. Her dress was shoved up to her hips, and with her in her heels standing like this in front of him, so exposed, his dick was never going to go down.

  “This for me?” He knew it was but he needed to hear the confirmation.

  She nodded, her auburn hair swishing around her face, highlighting her flushed cheeks. He loved that she wore her emotions out in the open.

  “Aloud.”

  “Yes. You know it is,” she rasped out.

  He slid a finger inside her, shuddered when she tightened around him. He’d felt her the other night in the darkness of the truck, but seeing her displayed like this—all for him—was something else altogether.

  “I’m going to taste you.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her. It was pretty obvious. When she tightened around his finger again, heat punched through him. She liked his dirty talk.

  He could have stretched this out all day, but his patience was gone. He’d been building to this for a year.

  “I’ve wanted to do this from practically the moment I saw you a year ago.” Leaning forward, he buried his face between her legs.

  Yeah, he could have worked up to it, but he wanted a reaction, wanted to shock her senses—wanted her to come against his mouth.

  “Brad.” She moaned it as she slid her fingers through his hair. Not pushing him away, but clutching onto him and holding him close.

  He loved the sound of his name on her lips as much as her taste. She was sweet perfection. Flicking his tongue against her clit, he savored her moans as he began moving his finger in and out of her. He’d learned exactly how much pressure she liked the other night, and he planned to use that knowledge to bring her even more pleasure.

  She rolled her hips with each thrust of his finger, each teasing tongue stroke. When she tried to clench her thighs together, he pressed on her inner thigh with his free hand. He wanted enough room to finish this.

  “Oh…this won’t take long.” Her fingers tightened in his hair again, the movements of her hips growing more erratic, unsteady.

  “Throw your leg over my shoulder,” he murmured against her.

  Again, without pause she did it,
digging her heel into his back. Oh, hell yeah. This gave him the best position to taste her. He added another finger, increased the tempo of his thrusts.

  “Oh!” She jolted once before her inner walls gripped him tight.

  He started to add another finger, then she began convulsing around him faster and faster, her climax hitting hard and sharp.

  He increased the pressure of his tongue on her clit, massaging that little bundle of nerves harder and harder until she shouted out his name.

  “Brad! Enough.”

  No, it wasn’t enough. He was going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of her. That invisible force was driving him, her pleasure the only thing that mattered. He wanted to imprint himself on her mind and body. To make sure she fantasized about this, about them, about the pleasure he could give her.

  Only when the feel of her contractions around his fingers started to subside and she gently squeezed his head did he stop and look up at her.

  She stared down at him in a daze, blinking a couple times before she gave him the sweetest smile. “That was incredible.”

  No, she was incredible. And he was addicted to making her orgasm. Seeing that expression on her face when she came, that blissful aftermath when she was sated was… There was no word for it. But he wanted to see it again and again.

  He pushed to his feet and cupped her cheek with one hand. Her skin was soft against his palm. Leaning close, he whispered, “Soon you’re going to do that while you’re underneath me and I’m fully—”

  She put a hand over his mouth. “You’ve got to stop. I’m already about to die from pleasure.”

  He just grinned against her palm before nipping at her fingers. “You’re sexy when you come.”

  Her cheeks flushed crimson as she slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close. Going up on tiptoe, she made a move to kiss him. He didn’t need any encouragement. Meeting her mouth with his, he flicked his tongue against the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. He loved that she was tasting herself, wanted to ask her if she liked it, but they needed to slow down for now.

  She arched into him as he pushed her back against the shelving again and it took all his restraint to start pulling her dress back down her hips to cover her.

  With a protest, she leaned slightly back, but didn’t put any distance between them. “What are you doing?”

  “We don’t have the time or space for what I plan to do to you next.”

  Her cheeks flushed again and he got even harder, something he hadn’t thought possible. She rubbed the front of his pants once and he gritted his teeth.

  “You sure we don’t?” Her voice was seductive, breathy.

  On a razor’s edge, he nodded and slowly eased back using control he was surprised he still had. “I’m sure. But I’m going to need a few minutes.”

  Her gaze dipped down to the front of his pants and she took her bottom lip between her teeth. The hunger he saw on her face almost pushed him over the edge.

  “Go now, before I change my mind. I’ll meet you by the valet in ten minutes.”

  After a pause, she nodded and hurried out the door—without her thong. He pocketed the scrap of material and decided he wasn’t giving it back.

  Now he just had to get his body under control so he could leave the room and face the people outside without giving himself away.

  Chapter 5

  “Thanks for letting me join you guys,” Fallon said as she sat across from Brad’s father, John, who was in his recliner.

  The retirement community wasn’t an actual care facility, but a neighborhood where only people over a certain age were allowed to live.

  “Of course. The more the merrier. And one day I’m going to get you to play chess with me. I hear from your aunt that you’re quite the master.” In his sixties, John Fulton was adorable, though she knew he wouldn’t like that description.

  He was fit, since he still jogged a couple miles a day, the same height as Brad, and had a head full of salt-and-pepper hair—and had most of the single ladies in the community bringing him baked goods or casseroles every day of the week. At least that’s what her aunt said.

  Fallon grinned. Almost every time she came to visit her aunt she saw John. And every time he asked her for a chess match. “I’m okay.”

  “More than okay, I hear.” Brad stepped into the room with three mugs of decaf coffee, set them on the rectangular table before handing his dad, then her, a mug. “And I also hear you have a victory dance.”

  “I might have a victory dance.” And it was a little embarrassing that he knew about that. She took a sip of her coffee, and sighed in appreciation. Normally she didn’t care for decaf but it was too late to drink regular. “Hey, how’d you know how I like my coffee?” Because it was prepared exactly the way she drank it—lots of cream and a bit of sugar.

  “I pay attention.” He shot her a brief, heated look that set off butterflies in her stomach before he turned back to his dad. “I don’t think you’d like to play with her. She’s not a good loser, from what I hear.”

  The older man nodded solemnly. “Ah, must be for the best, then.”

  She blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Not sure what you mean.” Brad lifted his mug to his mouth and she had a memory flash of him pressing his lips to something much more intimate. Heat flooded her body and she was suddenly very aware that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress. The bra was built-in and Brad had taken her thong and refused to give it back. Which was, okay, crazy hot.

  “You’re trying to goad me into playing him.” Which she normally wouldn’t mind, but she really liked Brad’s father and she was pretty sure she would beat him. That wasn’t arrogance either. She just hadn’t lost to anyone since she was ten.

  “Is it working?”

  “Maybe, but…fair warning, I won’t go easy on you,” she said as she turned to face his dad. She might feel bad beating him, but it wasn’t in her nature to toss a game.

  John’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Good, we can set up a date and then you can tell me about this food truck idea.”

  She shot Brad a surprised look. “You told him?” Which meant he’d been talking about her to his dad. That was…interesting. Warmth settled in her belly.

  He lifted a broad shoulder. “It’s a good idea.”

  “No, it’s a great idea,” John said. “And the retirement community would love something like that. All my friends watch those cooking shows. You’d probably make a bundle right here.”

  She’d actually thought about that as part of her business plan. Marketing to different areas for different days of the week. Being mobile would give her the ability to be flexible, see what worked and… Damn it, why was she even thinking of that? She’d just signed a six-month lease for a fully furnished place in San Francisco. It was close to the culinary school and surprisingly affordable. But only because they had a deal going with the school. She’d looked up the actual prices in the immediate area and they were three times what she’d be paying in Holly.

  And sadly, at the moment she couldn’t care less about it.

  Fallon cleared her throat, really not wanting to talk about herself. “It’s definitely something to think about. Though what I really want to know is how you scam all those single ladies into bringing you so many meals every week when you’re not even dating anyone.”

  Brad nearly choked on his coffee but his dad just grinned. “You know about that?”

  “My aunt says you have a racket going and that you’re absolutely shameless.”

  Brad looked between the two of them, frowning. “What’s she talking about?”

  Now she laughed, hiding behind her mug of coffee.

  John just shrugged, doing a good impression of looking helpless as he said, “Some days, the ladies in the community like to bring me meals. I can’t very well say no.”

  Brad’s eyes narrowed. “Some days?”

  “Most days.
Come on, son, do you really think I make all those casseroles for our weekly dinners?” Grinning, he turned back to Fallon. “Your aunt is the only one who doesn’t bring me anything.” She’d started to respond when he continued. “And the only woman I wish who would.”

  “I…” She cleared her throat. Yeah, not touching that one. Her aunt and Brad’s father always flirted, but she’d just assumed it was harmless. Maybe there was more to it, though. That would be…weird.

  “You can tell her I said that, too.” He gave her a pointed look.

  “All right, we’re not turning Fallon into your matchmaker.” Brad shook his head slightly, but was clearly fighting a grin.

  And he looked just as adorable as his father. He was such a big, intimidating guy, but he was sweet, honorable, and visited his dad at least once a week. He went out of his way to help people and not just when he was in sheriff mode. She’d heard enough stories from her mother and others around town.

  In that moment she realized how hard she could fall for him. If she was smart, she’d end things tonight. Walk away, make it clear that nothing else could happen between them. Not with her going all the way across the country for at least a year and a half. They could be friends, but that was it.

  She must not be smart, however, because she couldn’t do that. Not when she wanted another taste of him as much as she wanted her next breath. Losing him once she left would burn, but it would be worth it.

  They stayed at his dad’s another hour and a half before it was clear John was getting tired.

  “I didn’t realize you’d spent time with my dad before,” Brad said as he reversed out of the driveway.

  “He always pops over when I’m visiting my aunt. Speaking of, was he serious about her? Because I’m pretty sure she has a thing for him too.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, he’s mentioned her more than… Actually, she’s the only woman he’s ever mentioned since moving here. Fulton men must have a thing for O’Connor women.”