No Reservations, Page 2

  “And where is that accent from that I hear in your voice?” Mac asks.

  “Texas. Austin, Texas.”

  “What brought you up to Portland?” Chase asks.

  “A job, and I needed to escape the heat. I wanted to see the seasons change, and I was tired of Texas. My family is there, so I visit a couple times a year, and that’s good enough for me.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Kat says with a smile.

  The rest of the dinner is full of witty conversation and more wine, and when we’re ready to leave, Kat decides she’s too drunk to drive us home.

  “I’ll ride with Mac,” she says, slurring her words.

  “I can call a cab,” I reply, but Chase shakes his head.

  “I’ll give you a ride,” he says.

  “You drank too.”

  “I had one glass. I’m fine, I promise.”

  I stand on the sidewalk and stare at him dubiously. “I don’t know. I think a cab will be fine.”

  He takes my hand, waves to Kat and Mac, and leads me down the sidewalk to his car.

  Which is as sexy as he is.

  Damn him.

  “You have a ’68 Camaro?”

  He stops and looks me over before answering. “Yes. Are you a gear head?”

  “No, I’m a car lover, but I don’t know how to work on them. This is a damn sexy car.”

  “Thank you.”

  He gets me settled in my seat. I’m a little buzzed.

  Or, you know, a lot buzzed.

  And I know that Chase is not the kind of guy I want to fuck with. Not in a he might throw me in the river kind of way, but in a he sleeps with all the girls in the world and I don’t need to be another notch in the bedpost kind of way.

  But now I’m alone with him. I’ve always been careful to not be alone with him because he’s sexy and I’m a girl with needs.

  Sexy needs.

  He gets in next to me and fires up the car, and my panties are immediately soaked.

  I clear my throat. “How long have you had this car?”

  “A few years,” he says and watches as I reach out and stroke the dash lovingly. I can’t keep myself from touching the vintage radio, the gear shift, the steering wheel. Now Chase clears his own throat, his eyes glued to my hand as I touch everything in my reach.

  “I like it,” I whisper.

  “Maura?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Put your hand on your leg.”

  “On your leg?” I rest my palm on his thigh and feel every muscle in his leg tighten. “Like this?”

  “Fucking hell,” he mutters and moves my hand from his leg to my own. “If you touch me, I’ll want—”

  “What? What will you want, Chase?”

  He turns those warning-label eyes on me and narrows them menacingly, and I know in this moment that although my mind screams don’t do it! my loins have other ideas.

  I’m totally going to fuck Chase tonight.

  “Chase?”

  “You. I want you, goddamn it.”

  A slow smile makes its way over my lips and I cock an eyebrow. “Seems tonight is your lucky night, Chase.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m not that drunk.” I shrug. “I’m a little buzzed and a lot turned on.”

  “By my car.”

  “The car helps.” I grin and lick my lower lip. “I’d very much like it if you’d take me home with you.”

  “If you change your mind, I’ll take you straight home.”

  Well, at least he’s not an asshole.

  “So noted.”

  He puts the car in gear and stomps on the gas. The car squeals out of the parking space, making me laugh. “If you kill us before we get there, we won’t get to do this, and that would be unfortunate.”

  He just smirks and watches the road as he zooms through downtown and into the west hills. Finally, he turns into a driveway and stops in front of an enormous house that in this neighborhood had to cost him a fortune.

  “Nice digs.”

  He doesn’t reply. He unclips my seatbelt and leans in to kiss me, but he pauses when his lips are just millimeters from my own. “Are you sure?”

  “Totally sure.”

  “You don’t like me.”

  “Truth.”

  “But you want to have sex with me.”

  It isn’t a question.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  His eyes flare and he presses his mouth to mine, devouring me. His tongue isn’t too hard or too sloppy. In fact, he might be the best kisser ever.

  His hand glides up my bare leg under my skirt and squeezes my ass over my panties.

  “Are we going to make it inside?” I ask breathlessly. He grins, and then he’s gone, jogging around the car to open my door and help me up. Most of the buzz from the wine is gone, replaced by this incredible sex buzz that’s even better.

  He leads me through the front door, slams it shut behind me, and immediately drops to his knees, pushes my skirt up around my waist and my leg over his shoulder, and plants a kiss on my core, right through the panties.

  “Holy fuck.” I gasp and grip onto his hair tightly, afraid of falling over. His finger hooks in the crotch of the black lace covering the prize. He pulls it to the side and touches the tip of his tongue to my very hard clit.

  “Now, that’s pretty,” he says before he takes my entire labia in his mouth and sucks hard, making me cry out and see stars all at once.

  “Jesus,” I mutter when he leans back and tugs my panties down my legs and waits patiently as I step out of them.

  “You have great legs.”

  He kisses my thigh, then my trimmed pubis and the other thigh before he stands and cups my cheek, staring down at me as I just concentrate on breathing. I lick my lips and the next thing I know, he’s lifted me fireman style on his shoulder and is carrying me through his house. It’s dark, so I can’t see much. I just catch glimpses of chrome and gleaming hardwood, and then I’m dumped on my back on a bed the size of Texas.

  Our clothes are shed in the darkness. Neither of us is speaking. We’re panting and grabbing for each other almost desperately. He grips both of my hands in one of his and pins them on the bed over my head while his mouth glides over my body, pausing at each nipple to tease them into hard nubs, then slides up my breast bone to my neck and finally my ear.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t remember your own name.”

  Jesus.

  His voice is pure sex. His body is firm, his skin smooth, and I want to touch him. I want to make him as crazy as he’s making me.

  “Let me touch you.”

  He immediately releases my hands, and I fist them in his hair, holding his face to mine as he kisses me blind. His full, stiff cock is resting against my core, and I can’t take it anymore.

  I want him.

  Right now.

  “In me,” I whisper. He smiles against my lips.

  “Impatient?”

  “Horny.”

  He’s still smiling as he reaches for a condom and rolls it on, and then I jump into action, kneeling beside him and pushing him onto his back, which he easily allows. I may be taking control here, but there’s absolutely no doubt as to whose show this is.

  He’s strong and much bigger than me, but he’s letting me have my way with him, wearing a smug smile all the while.

  I straddle him, but before I can impale myself on his impressive cock, he grips my hips and pulls me up his torso to his face so he can kiss me there again, making every nerve in my body stand at attention.

  “You have a good mouth, slick.”

  He hums against me, making my head fall back in pleasure. I’m gripping the headboard for balance, and my hips are moving back and forth over his mouth.

  Finally, he pushes me back down his body and guides me onto his dick. We both groan in pleasure when he’s buried deeply inside me. I can’t stop my body from moving fast, up and down, loving the way his cock reaches every inch of my pussy
, setting me on fire.

  Just as the world falls out from under me in the most intense orgasm of my life, he flips us again, pushes my legs over his shoulders and leans in, opening me wide and fucking me hard, chasing his own orgasm.

  He collapses on top of me, his face buried in the pillow next to me, and growls.

  Fucking growls.

  Once we’ve caught our breath, he pushes up on his arms, taking his weight off of me, and smiles down at me.

  “Well, that was fun.”

  “Definitely fun,” I reply with a nod, then wiggle out from under him and flip on the lamp next to the bed. I blink rapidly in the light and glance at him. He’s watching me, still kneeling in the middle of the bed, breathing hard. “I’m not staying.”

  “I figured,” he says and rolls off the bed, pads into the bathroom, flushes the toilet, and returns to find me pulling on my clothes. “You don’t have to leave right now.”

  Oh yes. I do.

  “I should,” I reply, doing my best to seem very nonchalant. “I have plans in the morning.”

  He nods. “I’ll take you home then.”

  “Great plan, since I don’t have a car and it’s practically the middle of the night.”

  “Or midnight.” He smirks and pulls on a pair of jeans. He doesn’t button them, or add a shirt, and instead stands there with his arms folded over his chest, watching me tug the skirt down my legs.

  I can’t find my panties, and I refuse to ask for them, so I’ll just consider them a loss.

  Five minutes later, we’re back in his sexy car and headed toward my condo.

  “This won’t happen again,” I inform him, breaking the silence.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “We irritate the shit out of each other.”

  He sighs deeply and mutters “that’s the truth” under his breath.

  “So even if the chemistry is there, we won’t do this again.”

  “Good plan.”

  I nod and hold my pinky out to him. “Pinky swear.”

  “I’m not a twelve-year-old girl.”

  “No, you’re not,” I agree with a laugh. “But now I feel silly, so just do it.”

  He links his pinky with mine and then pulls my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.

  “This is how the fucking gets started.”

  “No, sweetheart, the fucking got started months ago.”

  Chapter Two

  ~Maura~

  “This is heaven,” Tommy, my best friend of six years, says next to me. He’s exactly ten years older than me. We share a birthday, which we’ll be celebrating together next weekend, thanks to our mutual singledom. Today, we’re getting our weekly pedicures and catching up on the previous week. “How are you, darling?”

  “I’m fine,” I reply and sigh when the rollers in the back of the pedicure chair rub my lower back. Who knew I’d have sore muscles after one round of sex? I mean, sure, it was an intense, fun round, but it wasn’t anything particularly athletic.

  But here I am, sore and constantly reminded that I screwed one of Portland’s biggest players last night. The craziest part is, I don’t regret it. Not even a little bit. He was hot and fun, and I may be a commitmentphobe, but I don’t sleep around either, so I was due for some good sex.

  “How are you?” I ask him.

  “Honey, I’m exhausted,” he says and winks at me. Tommy is handsome. Tall, dark hair, square jaw. He has deep brown eyes and impeccable fashion sense.

  “Who is he?” I ask.

  “Eduardo,” he says with a sigh. “I met him about two weeks ago, and we finally went on a date last night, and let me tell you, he is delicious.”

  “Where did you meet him?”

  The pedicurist switches feet, rubbing my right calf now, and I want to purr like a kitten.

  “At the grocery store. Freezer aisle. He’s also a writer. Well, he says he’s a freelance writer.”

  Tommy and I look at each other and say at the same time, “Unemployed.”

  “You don’t need another mooch,” I say and roll my eyes. “Just because he’s hot and good in bed doesn’t mean he’s a good life partner.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him, honey.”

  I stare at Tommy and then frown. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you.”

  “There was no sex, which I know is surprising because I’m entirely irresistible, but we just went to dinner and then took a walk by the river and talked. He is a delightful kisser, though.”

  “So, you didn’t have sex.”

  Tommy laughs and shakes his head. “No.”

  “Huh. Okay. You must like him.”

  “I do like him. He’s intelligent and kind, and he’s nice to his mother but not a mama’s boy.”

  “Important,” I reply with a nod. “Well, good luck with him.”

  Tommy continues to sing Eduardo’s praises, and then tells me all about the piece he’s writing for the New York Times. Tommy is an excellent and successful writer. We met at the grocery store years ago when I needed help choosing a ripe watermelon.

  We’ve been friends ever since.

  Suddenly, my phone pings with a text.

  It’s Chase, smirking at the camera, holding my black, lacy underwear.

  You forgot something.

  “Oh. My. God.” Tommy reaches over and snatches my phone out of my hand and blows the photo up to get a better look at Chase. “I may not have had sex last night, but you certainly did.”

  The whole salon goes deathly quiet, and everyone stares at me, then starts to laugh.

  “I don’t think they heard you across town,” I say and snatch my phone back.

  “Honey, you better start talking. That man is handsome.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mutter and slip my phone back in my pocket without responding to Chase. “There really isn’t much to say.”

  “That’s a lie,” he says and shakes his head. “Start at the beginning and use all the dirty words.”

  I giggle and look up at the ceiling. “It was a blind date.”

  “You fucked a stranger?”

  “You really need to work on your indoor voice,” I reply dryly. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

  “I’ll be good,” he says and leans on his hand, listening intently. “Go on.”

  “He’s not a stranger. I actually knew him already from some wine classes and tasting tours I’ve been on. But my friend Kat wasn’t aware that we already knew each other and asked if I’d go to dinner with her and her husband, and a surprise blind date, who unbeknownst to me was her brother-in-law.”

  “Chase?”

  “Chase.” I nod. “He’s asked me out every time our paths have crossed, and I always turn him down.”

  “Why? He’s hot.”

  “Because he’s also completely uninterested in commitment.”

  “Hi, pot,” he says with a grin.

  “And he sleeps around.”

  “Okay, so you don’t sleep around, but you don’t want marriage and babies either, so just enjoy him for a while, with condoms, and then move on. I don’t see the problem.”

  “I just—” I sigh and shrug. “I know that I don’t want the family life, but I also don’t want to sleep with a million guys either. And I don’t know where his dick has been.”

  “Well, you do now,” Tommy says with a chuckle. “And you left your delicates. On purpose?”

  “No, I couldn’t find them last night when I was getting dressed, and rather than drag out the awkward after, I just left without them. But it’s okay, I’ll tell him to throw them away.”

  “Those look expensive,” he says with a frown.

  “They are.” I love expensive underwear. “But I can buy more.”

  “Go get them.” Tommy waves me off as if I’m being ridiculous.

  “I could have him mail them to me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Maura, you are a strong, independent, badass woman. You can certainly see a man about your delicates.”

&nbs
p; “I love that you call them my delicates,” I reply, wrinkling my nose. “You’re adorable.”

  “And you’re changing the subject. Go get your panties back, Maura. Look that sexy man in the eyes when he gives them to you, hold your head high, and walk away.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. So we had a fun time. We were both into it, and I didn’t embarrass myself.”

  “There you go.”

  “I’ll text him later. I’m not going to jump at his beck and call.”

  “No way,” he agrees.

  “It’s decided then. I’ll run into him anyway, and I refuse to give up my wine hobby just because he’s in the industry.”

  “That would just be stupid.”

  “Exactly.” I nod decisively and smile at Tommy. “We can be mature adults.”

  “I know that’s right.”

  “Great.” I slip my feet into my flip-flops, armed with new confidence that I can handle myself with Chase. He’s just a person, after all. It’s not like he’s Ryan Reynolds. He might look like Ryan Reynolds, but that’s just genetics.

  Now I don’t make any sense.

  “You’re overthinking,” Tommy says. “Stop it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You totally are.”

  I laugh and loop my arm through Tommy’s as we walk out of the salon toward our favorite Saturday lunch place.

  “Okay, I’m done overthinking for today. Do we get to go shopping after lunch?”

  “Yes. We have to replace those jeans you’re wearing. The blingy butt has been out of style for a year now.”

  “This is why I have you,” I reply and lean my cheek on his shoulder.

  “I thought it was because I’m excellent arm candy and a stellar dancer.”

  “Well, those are selling points as well.”

  We sit at our usual table and I order us a bottle of wine from the extensive menu to go with our salads. This place makes the best Caesar salad in town.

  “You’re good at wine,” Tommy says after taking a sip of his dry rosé.

  “Just wait until you taste that after you take a bite of your salad. It’s amazing.”

  “You should teach a class about wine. You’re a great teacher.”

  “I don’t think my fifth graders want to learn about wine.” I smirk and raise my glass to my lips.