“Don’t. It’s a terrible habit,” I tell her with a grin, though from the way her eyes flick over my hands and lips as I light it, I can tell she thinks it’s a sexy one. “It’s a way of relieving stress, though I’d hesitate to say it’s a good one.”
“What are some others?”
The way she says it, I can’t tell if she meant it to be an innuendo or not. Her tongue trips over the words, as if she thought it up, and it slipped out, and her cheeks blush in the dusky light. She looks gorgeous there, illuminated in neon and the light of my cigarette against the backdrop of the desert city. That ache I felt before starts to spread through my bones.
My gut tells me something is off. That I’m walking into something I’ll regret. But haven’t I told myself that every time I’ve looked at a woman since Saoirse walked out of my kitchen? Hasn’t it all just been an excuse to stay buried at the bottom of my heartbreak, alone and grinding my teeth against the unfairness of it all?
“I can think of a few.” The words come out before I can stop them, that deep need spreading through my veins, flaming out into a spark that might burn us up—butgod,wouldn’t it feel fucking good when it did? I haven’twantedlike this in so long, and it feels damn near impossible to walk away from it.
“Oh?” She cocks her head to one side, the light shimmering over her dark hair, and a smile teases the corners of those full red lips. “Like what?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” There’s an edge to my voice, something a little dark, a little dangerous, and I make sure she hears it. I can’t tell her exactly what sort of man I am, and I’m not entirely sure what sort of woman she is, but I have a suspicion she’s too good for me. That she’s the kind I shouldn’t touch—butfuckif I’m not one bad decision away from touching anyway if she says yes.
She steps a little closer. Her fingers brush against the top button of my shirt. She’s close enough that I can smell her perfume, something floral and a little woodsy. Soft, but with an edge, and I feel a sudden rush of relief that it’s nothing like what Saoirse wore. I won’t press my lips into the curve of Gabriela’s neck and think of Saoirse—at least not for that reason.
Not for any reason. You can’t take her to bed and think of someone else. Not this girl. You know that. She’s something else. Something you ought to run away from, if there’s a single drop of blood in your brain that hasn’t gone to your cock.
The problem is, I’m not sure there is any longer. I’m hard as hell now, straining against the fly of my jeans, almost to the point where I can’t think. She’s so fucking close, and it feels impossible to push her away.
“You haven’t even told me your name yet,” Gabriela whispers, and the words feel like a sharp slap in the face, dragging me back to reality.
“Shit.” I flick my cigarette, rubbing my other hand over my face. “It’s Niall. Niall Flanagan.” There’s no point in making up a fake name; she’s not going to know who I am. I’m no one out here, except to Ricardo Santiago, and maybe not even then. Not if I can’t deliver on what he wants for his half of the bargain.
“That’s not a name from around here.” She breathes out the words, her eyes glimmering in the darkness, wreathing around me like the smoke from my cigarette. I’d thought she was too naïve for me, but now I think she’s the one seducing me. She moves closer, her hand flattening against my chest, and my cock throbs in my jeans, reminding me of why I’m still out here. What I want—what I’m suddenly certain that Ineed.
“Like I said. Vacation.” I swallow hard, pushing away from the wall as I stub out my cigarette. Gabriela turns with me, her hand still brushing against my chest, and I open my mouth to tell her we should go back inside. That we should have another drink, get to know each other a little more. Anything to buy myself a second to think this through, to make sure I’m not just being fucking reckless because I’m so goddamn desperate to feel something in my chest besides an empty, aching pain.
But then her finger hooks in the top button of my shirt, as if to pull me closer, and her fingertip brushes against my skin. A soft touch, hardly enough to register, but the sensation that shoots through me is so intense that she might as well have wrapped her hand around my cock.
My mind goes blank for a second, and I’m nothing but instinct. Nothing but primal, masculine need, and my hands drop to her waist, tightening on the slender curves swathed in silk as I back her against the wall, my eyes dropping to hers. They’re dark pools in the moonlight, drawing me down like a siren’s call, and I’m ready to fucking drown.
Without another thought, my mouth comes crashing down onto hers.
10
ISABELLA
HE’S KISSING ME. MY FIRST KISS.
It’s everything I could have hoped for when I snuck out. Since he walked me to the bar away from those awful boys, I’ve felt the steadily building tension between us, apparent even to someone as inexperienced as I am. I hadn’t really known how to go about seducing him, how to close the deal and get him to kiss me, to escalate things—but it all happened so naturally. It’s as if each step appeared before me as I stumbled down the path, the moment growing in intensity until what happened felt inevitable. My finger hooking in his shirt automatically, wanting to keep him from moving away from me. Wanting himcloser. The way those gorgeous blue eyes of his darkened even more, his entire face tightening with a need that took my breath away—and then his hands on my waist, pushing me back against the wall. Roughly—but not enough to scare me. Just enough to let me know how much he wants me. Enough to send my heart racing and make my breath catch in my throat as his mouth came down on mine, full and soft and asking—no—demandingmore.
And I want to give it to him.Everything. I decide in that instant, as my arms wind instinctively around his neck and I let my lips part, struggling to kiss him back in a way that won’t let on just how inexperienced I really am. I don’t want him to know. I’m a virgin, but I don’t want him to take me like one. I don’t want tonight to be a negotiation, him worried about me, hesitating—or worse yet, walking away from this because he doesn’t want to be my first. Because he won’t want this to be more than it is—and I can’t explain why it could never be anyway, not without giving myself away.
I want to be, with him, the woman I envisioned when I saw the dress I’m wearing. I want tobeGabriela Rodriguez for tonight, confident, sexy—anything but a frightened, anxious virgin. I want to be someone other than Isabella for Niall Flanagan.
His name soothed me, made me certain that this would be okay, that he’s telling the truth. A name to match his peculiar accent. A strange man far from home on vacation, who will leave in a few days with something to remember, just as he’ll give me. A man I’ll never have to worry about running into again or who might find out the truth. It’s perfect. The certainty of that allows me to let myself go.
To enjoy my first kiss with a man that I chose for myself.
It’s something straight out of a romance novel, a perfection I’d been afraid to hope for. He’s sexy and a little dark, both gentlemanly and dangerous, a mystery swathed in a leather jacket that I want desperately to discover for myself. He tastes like tequila and smoke, like an adventure into the unknown, as he kisses me against the wall in the moonlight like he wants to devour me. His lips are full and soft, warm as the desert sand, and I want to sink into him as he brushes them over my mouth with a deep groan that sends flutters of excitement through me.
When I part my lips for him, his tongue slides into my mouth, slick and hot, and I feel a strange sensation between my thighs. I feel hot, aching,wet, the way I’ve sometimes gotten late at night when I let myself fantasize about things I never thought I could have. When I’d sometimes given in to the urge to touch myself, lightly, but never for too long.
“Niall.” I breathe his name, and I feel a shudder ripple through him, his hands on my waist sliding down to my hips. He surges against me, deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine and dragging a breathless moan from my mouth to his. I feel him against my thigh, hard and thicker than I’d imagined, and that makes me gasp again as a wave of heat passes through me.
If nothing else happens tonight,I think to myself as his hand comes up to tangle in my hair,I could die happy just from this.Even if he pulls away now, changes his mind, or if I lose my nerve. This kiss, this perfect romantic moment, is already so much more than I ever thought I’d have.
His hand slides down my thigh, under the hem of my dress, and I feel a sudden return of my nerves, mixed with a breathless recklessness that makes me want to let him keep going. To do anything he wants to me, up against this wall under the moonlight—but that’s not how I want tonight to go, not really. I want to explore somewhere safe, somewhere private, where I can let myself go without fear of being interrupted or seen. I want to hide away from the world with Niall for a night, not be out in it together, doing this.