FREE READ: Untitled Vignette
Warning: Explicit sexual content
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Hailey tapped her foot and glanced at her watch once again. Bryan was already forty-five minutes late. Again. She blew out a breath. This was the fourth time in a row. She was very definitely not impressed. And not just a little suspicious. Maybe her gut instinct was right. Maybe all those annoying details shouldn’t have been brushed aside. Maybe…just maybe.
Her brows drew together. The idea refused to be dismissed this time.
A funny thought occurred to her. Well, at least to her it was humorous. Maybe it was all the alcohol she had consumed. This was…what?…her fourth or fifth drink on an empty stomach.
Bryan had called her earlier to say he wouldn’t make it for dinner and that she should eat without him and meet him at the bar afterwards. Hailey, running a bit late herself, had gone straight to the bar. She had had her excuses all planned out and revised. However, it turned out that she hadn’t needed them.
The sleek, black dress skimmed her body to below mid-thigh. That and the black heeled sandals were being wasted, she thought, almost petulant. Hailey finished the last of her drink, and her stomach churned, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since noon. She lowered the tumbler, her gaze falling to the bar.
It was the alcohol. That would be the excuse she would use later to pacify and justify herself. She hadn’t been thinking straight. How else could she explain openly flirting and seducing a total stranger with her eyes?
He wasn’t her usual type. Close-cropped dark hair, heavy five o’clock shadow, harsh features, hooded eyes. She’d never went for dark and dangerous. Too moody, too high maintenance. She’d hated Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights and the brooding Heathcliff. The alcohol coursing through her veins, however, made her pulse pound and her skin tingle with the thought of brushing against him and feeling his stubble against her inner thighs. She shivered. And knew she had to look away.
Bryan, damn it, where are you?
Anger and resentment swirled through her. Hailey raked a hand through her hair. And, because the pull was too strong, her gaze was dragged back to the stranger, and the pressure around her chest shortened her breath.
Perhaps he felt the silent demand that he turn and meet her eyes. Perhaps he’d been abiding his time until he had her full and complete attention. Or perhaps it was simply that, despite the darkened interior, he caught sight of her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
Whatever it had been, her libido got what it wanted. He made his way towards her table in the corner. His slow, sure approach told her she still had options. She could still change her mind and call it off with a small shake of her head, the flicker of an eyelash, a small motion of her wrist.
She didn’t do any of those things. Her gaze traveled up and down his tall frame, taking in the way his shirt stretched over broad shoulders and the snug fit of his blue jeans. She drew in a long, slow breath. She wasn’t going to change her mind…not when she could already feel her panties getting damp.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t sit down. He put out his hand, palm facing upwards. The ball was still in her court. The call was still hers.
Hailey placed her hand in his. It completely enveloped hers. A gentle tug and she was up and trailing him to the dimly lit, postage stamp-sized dance floor. She walked into his arms without reservation. She should’ve felt ridiculous plastered against him as she was. He was tall, six-two, maybe six-three. Even in her heels, she didn’t reach his shoulders. She didn’t
feel ridiculous though. How could she when it took all her energy not to melt into a puddle at his feet?
Hailey’s lashes lowered as she swallowed hard, finding her mouth dry. She inhaled deeply. The warm, clean scent of male filled her nostrils. Maybe it was that that had her knees buckling. Maybe it was that or the hot mouth that had opened on her neck. It didn’t matter which. She could only feel the melting sensation that started at the sensitive skin beneath where her jaw met her ear and spread. A shudder ran down her body, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
She slid a hand into his hair, enjoying the feel of the coarse, cool strands between her fingers. She slipped her other hand into the back pocket of his jeans and felt the hard muscles. Oh, God. Then she felt the pointed tip of his tongue trace teasing patterns on the small area covered by his open mouth and her thoughts dissipated. Hailey pressed her hips up and closer to his, wanting to feel his erection between her legs, seeking release for the tight coil of desire that kept winding and creating a torturous urgency. He maneuvered them off the dance floor, and she barely registered a darker space.
Biting down on her lower lip, Hailey rubbed her body against his harder form as he ran rough hands over her shoulders; down her ribs, fingers skimming the sides of her breasts; across her tummy, causing flutters; over the apex of her legs and pressing hard enough to make her gasp. Fire washed over her. She moaned softly into the mouth covering hers. Her lips parted, wanting the feel of his tongue sliding against hers. But he left her wanting, and she almost whimpered. He skimmed his palms over her buttocks before cupping her hips, lifting and tilting it so he could grind into her, moving her against him. Hailey’s eyes nearly crossed with the heady, almost painful mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her teeth suddenly came down on his lower lip, and she tasted the metallic flavor of his blood.
He drew back in momentary surprise. Hailey stared back, shocked to the core by her action…and turned on.
His eyes darkened, then he lowered his head, caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. Hailey made a strangled sound in her throat before crushing her mouth to his. Their teeth scraped. Tongues rubbed against and twirled around each other. When she could, she sucked him deeper into her mouth, and his fingers dug into her hips.
Hailey sank her fingertips into the heavy muscle of his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer, wanting to lie down on any surface and pull his body over hers. She wanted to feel his heavy weight pushing her down, his callused palms on her naked flesh, his teeth scraping her hard, ultra-sensitive nipples, his hardness stretching her, moving deep inside her. But she would’ve settled for something—anything—to release this vicious ache that only intensified the more she touched him. And this time, she did whimper.
She felt him smile. Although she hadn’t thought it possible, her body only tightened even more with anticipation. Then, all of a sudden, he slipped his thigh between her legs and rammed her onto it. Her back slammed against an unforgiving wall. Her breath locked in her throat. She felt every fiber of his rough jeans through the silk of her underwear. The tension twisted, threatening to consume her. He moved her hips. She shattered brilliantly, breath unlocking, and he swallowed her cry of release.
Moments—eons—later, Hailey dropped her entire weight onto him, letting him support her. He was still rubbing her sex against his thigh, and she could feel herself dampening his jeans. Embarrassment, however, lost to exhaustion. She was still clutching his shoulders tightly, not wanting to let go, afraid to let go. As the breaths shuddered in and out of her lungs, she buried her face in his chest, listening to the rapid, uneven beat of his heart. Oh, God.
Copyright © 1999, 2012 by Ann Bruce