But he never said the words, because she took a step closer, looked him right in the eyes, and said, "She's a bitch. And she's wrong. And--"
He had no idea what came next, because that's when he pulled her close, then shut her up with a long, slow kiss.
Chapter Ten
His kiss destroyed her.
Shelby's head spun, her legs went weak, and the only thought she had in her head was that she wanted more. She hadn't planned this--hell, she'd only wanted to tell him that his ex was an idiot--but the instant that Nolan's lips touched hers, she was lost.
Maybe she should have realized. After all, she'd been craving him for days. He'd stolen into her dreams and barged into her thoughts. She'd spent hours justifying her decision to stay away when the only thing her body wanted was him since the moment he'd walked away Thursday morning.
Some small voice inside her head told her this was insane. That she should walk away now before she regretted it. That with this man she'd be risking more than her heart, she'd be risking her dreams--her plans.
She told the damn voice to shut up. She didn't care about protests or plans or the future. All she knew was now. And all she wanted was him.
What was it Hannah had said? That she should take a chance? Well, maybe Hannah hadn't convinced her, but Nolan's kisses were very, very persuasive.
"Nolan. Oh, God," she moaned as his mouth moved to her neck, her earlobe. He was working his magic on her, and heat flowed in her veins, a wild burning passion that his kisses only stoked, making her burn hotter and hotter until she was certain that she would simply combust in his arms.
She turned her head, forcing their mouths together again, and her fingers twined in his hair as she held him, tasted him. Christ, she craved him, and she opened her mouth to his, demanding he deepen the kiss, wanting to consume and be consumed.
She lost herself in the taste of him, in the taint of pain as his teeth tugged on her lower lip. In the coppery tang of blood from the violent clashing of their mouths and teeth. It wasn't enough--it wasn't nearly enough. And even when he pulled away, his mouth closing over the halter of her dress so that he sucked her nipple through the material, and his hands started to slide under her skirt, she simply wanted more. So badly--so desperately--that when he pulled away and stood in front of her, she actually whimpered.
"Don't stop. God, Nolan, please don't stop."
"Hell no," he said. "But we need to take a short recess to find a better place fast. Otherwise, I'm taking you in the ladies' room and locking us into a stall."
"No good," she teased. "No way I could stay quiet enough."
He chuckled. "Good. I like your noises. I like to make you scream."
"Make me come and I'll scream as loud as you want," she murmured, and Nolan tilted his head back and laughed.
"What?"
"Listen to you. How many people know what naughty things can come out of that mouth? You with your sensible shoes and your tweed jacket and your tailored button down shirts."
She lifted her brows. "From anyone else, I'd think I'd been insulted."
"Oh, no," he said. "Not even close. You're my fantasy, baby. Did you know that? Because you're all mine." His eyes searched hers as his fingertip stroked her cheek. "No one else sees the woman I do."
She swallowed. "Nolan..."
"You gave that to me, Shelby, whether you meant to or not."
His words were like a soft rain, and she soaked them in, knowing he was right. He saw a part of her no one else did. Certainly not Alan, who'd probably die from shock if he had even an inkling of the things she'd done and said with Nolan.
"Do you have any idea how much of a turn on that is?" Nolan asked. "Knowing we have this secret? That you've shared something so intimate with me?"
"I do," she whispered. "Because if I'm your fantasy, then you're my muse." She brushed a kiss over his lips. "I've never done these things with anyone," she told him. "You inspire me."
"Do I? What are you inspired to do now?"
"Nothing we can do right here," she said, then laughed.
"Where, then?"
"I know." She took his hand. "Come on."
She and the other girls from Brandywine had rented a room at the hotel for the night. No one intended to actually stay in it, but that way they had a private place to rest, leave make-up, change clothes if they needed to, and simply get away from the crowd if it all became too overwhelming.
"I had four cousins get married over six months," Kayla had said when she'd suggested the room. "Trust me when I say it's totally worth the expense."
Right about now, Shelby was enthusiastically agreeing with Kayla's assessment. All the other girls were still in the ballroom dancing and gossiping and drinking champagne. Which meant that the room was entirely free--and Shelby intended to take full advantage.
"You have a room?" Nolan asked as she led him to the door at the end of an eighth floor hall.
"I believe in being prepared," she said, then added, "Call it the girl-power staging area," as she led him into the clothing strewn, make-up scattered housekeeping horror that came from five girls sharing a room. Even if it was only to change and freshen up.
He glanced around. "Are we alone?"
"Completely," she said, finishing the word on a gasp because he had her back up against the wall, her arms above her head, her crossed wrists held tight in his hand. She was helpless, and he moved in fast, taking her mouth with his, claiming her, controlling her.
His lips possessed her. Owned her. And his free hand led an exploratory charge, pulling her breasts free from the halter-style bodice. "You look good enough to eat," he teased before lowering his mouth to her breast.
He scraped his teeth along her nipple, causing a wild sensation to build in her sex. She moaned, squeezing her legs together and shifting her hips, hoping to increase the friction.
"Someone likes."
"Someone does," she confirmed, then gasped at the sound of footsteps stopping right outside the door.
"Fuck," she whispered as she shifted out from under him, took his hand, and sprinted for the bathroom.
They burst in and locked the bathroom door before her anonymous roomie burst through the main door. A moment of muffled noise, then the bathroom door knob rattled. Shelby glanced at Nolan, who actually looked amused, the bastard.
"I'm in here," she said, sitting on the edge of the tub because her legs were shaky. "I'm a little sick."
"Oh no," Leslie said. "Let me in and we'll help you out."
"Oh, God, no," she said, but not in response to Leslie's comment, but to the fact that Nolan had dropped to the ground, spread her knees, and buried his face between her legs.
"What?" Leslie called.
"I just mean I'd rather be alone. Too much alcohol is all." Her voice sounded rough, and she supposed that made it more convincing. But as he sucked on her clit through her thin cotton panties, she decided she really didn't care.
Shifting, she spread her legs wider and held on to the edge of the tub for dear life as he tugged the crotch of her panties aside and worked magic with his tongue.
"I was going to freshen my make-up," Les called, "but I'll just use what's in my purse."
"Uh-huh," Shel said as Nolan sucked on her clit while teasing her labia with a finger wet with her desire.
"Are you coming later?" Les asked.
"Oh, God, yes, absolutely," Shelby cried out, as Nolan's magical tongue took her loudly and fabulously over the edge.
Nolan, she mouthed when she came back to earth, but he just pulled her down to the area rug, then yanked her panties around her knees as her sex pulsed in anticipation.
"Condom" he whispered, and she spread her hands helplessly.
"Five girls. Someone must have one," he said. Then he was on his feet searching. A moment later he thrust a silver package into the air.
"Hurry," she said, not bothering to be quiet anymore. She thought she'd heard Les leave. And if she was wrong, well, she didn't care.
> He opened the fly of his tux pants, then knelt between her legs as she reached for him, wanting to touch his cock before he sheathed it. "Don't," he said. "I'm too close. And you don't want to stain that dress."
She burst out laughing, and he got on top of her, laughing, too. Then he was inside her and their sounds were laughter and pleasure and wild, glorious fun.
And when he came, she hooked her legs around him and used her strength to pull him in deeper, closer to her core. Closer to her heart.
When he was spent, he stretched out beside her, his finger tracing her collar bone. "You're incredible," he said. "And I bet we just had the most fun of anybody at this wedding.
Chapter Eleven
"Thinking about jumping in?" Nolan asked, coming to stand at the end of the dock beside Amanda.
She turned her head and smiled at him. "I haven't swum in Lake Austin since we were kids." She sat down, hanging her bare feet over the edge. "And most of the time you threw me in, you jerk. I rarely had the chance to jump."
He dropped down beside her, his own flip-flops now abandoned on the wooden dock. "That's what big brothers are for."
She looked at him sideways. "Is that what they're for? I never could figure that out."
"Cute."
She nudged his shoulder. "What are Mom and Dad up to?"
Technically, they were his Mom and her Dad, but their parents had married when they were both so young that neither he nor Amanda thought of themselves as stepsiblings. Except when the topic of his asshole father came up. Then Nolan felt about as far removed from the Franklin family as was humanly possible.
"When I walked down," he told her, "Dad was watching a documentary on bees, and Mom was cleaning up after lunch."
"Dammit," Amanda said, "I told her I'd do that when I got back."
"Yeah, right. Like that would happen."
She grinned. "That was my trick as a kid. But as a responsible adult, I really did intend to clean up. Only seemed fair since she put out the Sunday spread. Exactly what about bees?"
"No idea. But Mom doesn't mind. Says it keeps him out of trouble."
A retired petroleum engineer, for the last five years, Huey Franklin had become inexplicably addicted to nature documentaries.
"Speaking of trouble," Amanda began with a wicked little grin, "I guess you got it all worked out?"
"Color me confused."
"The girl," she said. "Trying to get some girl. Not getting the girl. Much musical and comedic angst on the radio. And then no angst, so I'm assuming you and the girl worked it out. Oh, and the spot you did for The Fix was great. Jenna said they really appreciate it." She paused, then laughed. "Don't look at me like that. What? You thought I didn't listen to your show?"
"I didn't think about it at all, actually." He pulled an exaggerated frown. "And you can tell Jenna I've got more in mind. Maybe interview some of the calendar guys. Tyree, too, if he's willing. And I thought about live streaming some of the contest if they're cool with that."
"Love the idea."
"As for you listening to my show, I'm not sure if I'm flattered that you're interested or mortified that my sister hears all my X-rated bullshit."
"Oh, please. Like you ever censor yourself around me. And I think it's more PG-13. Maybe NC-17. But only when you manage to slip something past Connor."
He laughed. "You make a good point."
"I always do," she countered. "And you're changing the subject."
Amanda always was too clever by half. But considering all the help she gave him over the years, he'd never razzed her on her brainiac ways. "You're right. The girl has been gotten."
"Nice. So who is she? And don't just say she's a girl. I got that part already."
"She's definitely not just a girl."
"Oh, really?" She ran her toes through the water and flicked her foot up, sprinkling both of them with droplets. "I want a name."
"But you're not getting one. We're not public yet." They'd talked about it briefly while they were on the floor of the bathroom in the Four Seasons. The fact that they both wanted more of each other. And the fact that there were complications.
"Really? Why not?"
"Partly because I want to hold it close. Partly because there's this guy she was seeing who doesn't know yet, and partly because she doesn't want to be known as the girl I talked about on the radio."
"Go public now, and it's obvious she's the same girl," Amanda said, nodding with understanding.
"Exactly."
"Well, have fun with your covert sexcapades, and introduce me when you can."
"You got it. By the way, you're coming to the benefit, right? It's only a few weeks away."
"You know I am, idiot. For one thing, I'm on the committee. For another, my firm is buying a table. For a third, do you really think I'd miss it?"
He didn't. Not really. The benefit was for the Dyslexia Reading & Tutoring Room, and he was this year's keynote speaker. Considering he spoke for a living, he was remarkably nervous.
"I had to make sure," he told her. "Are Mom and Dad at your table?"
"Yup. Is your dad coming?"
He gaped at her, and after a moment, she cringed.
"Sorry. I should know better. I guess I thought--hoped--that maybe he'd.... Well, anyway, he's a rat bastard."
"Not arguing."
She took his hand. "But Nolan, it doesn't matter. When you're up on that podium, you need to remember just how much he doesn't matter."
He nodded, pushing down the memories of the dark days he'd been forced to spend with his birth father. Goddamn joint custody. The man was an ass. Not that he abused Nolan, but his sharp tongue sure could shame.
He reached for Amanda's hand and gave it a squeeze, remembering how much she'd been at his side during those years. Hell, she'd been his goddamn lifeline. "You'll be front and center, right?"
"You better believe it, big brother."
* * *
Between her deadlines and Nolan's crazy schedule of on-air performances and public appearances, it was days before they had the chance to go out again. But with her KIKX live-streaming app, at least she had Nolan in the morning--and so did all the other women in town.
The thought gave Shelby a little thrill. She'd have to be blind not to know how many women were interested in the man--or, for that matter, how many he'd slept with in the past. But he was with her now, and she believed him when he'd told her that there was no other woman in his life, with the non-relevant exception of his sister and mother, of course.
His radio banter certainly seemed to prove that point. Bawdy and funny as usual, there were no references to Nolan's own sex life, short of a couple of riffs on the title of the show and him waking up frustrated and alone the last few mornings.
She fully intended to give him grief about that--and offer to let him crash at her place if he wanted to take care of any mornings with wood before Mornings With Wood.
Any references to her--or to them--were thankfully completely absent from the airwaves.
At least, she told herself she was thankful.
The trouble was, she didn't entirely believe her rational, sane conclusion that she was pleased not to be the subject of his jokes. And the realization that maybe--just maybe--there'd been something a little titillating about being the impetus behind a wild blast of a song like George Michaels' I Want Your Sex was more than a little disconcerting.
Not that she had time to ponder any hidden ambition to be comedy fodder. On the contrary, Frank was keeping her crazy busy. And when the receptionist buzzed just before lunch on Wednesday to tell her that the lunch she ordered had arrived and could she send the delivery guy back, Shelby had almost bit the poor woman's head off with her reply that of course she could. The point of delivery was that Shelby didn't want to leave her desk--not even to schlep down to reception.
Only after she'd ended the call did she realize that she hadn't ordered any take-out. Great. Now she was going to have to waste time figuring out whose lunch she
was about to get.
"Come in," she called in response to the tap at her door. "Listen, there's been a mix-oh!"
It was Nolan.
He was standing right on her threshold, looking ridiculously sexy in faded jeans that hugged his thighs and a black KIKX tee. He also wore a Longhorns baseball cap and carried a paper bag from Wholy Bagels, which he extended toward her as he stepped all the way into her office, closing the door behind him.
"No way," she said, taking the bag and clutching it to her heart. "You brought me a bagel? I love this place."
"I know," he said, then added, "You had a bag of bagels on your counter and some of their spreads in your fridge the first time I was at your house. I took a chance that you liked them for lunch, too."
That had been the first time they'd made love. A night that had been frantic and wild and utterly awesome. She'd been doing good the next morning to notice if she was wearing clothes before she left the house. The fact that he noticed a detail like bagels blew her away.
"I love bagels for lunch," she confirmed. "I don't even toast them. Just slather on the cream cheese. But you went all the way to South Austin to get me lunch?"
He came closer, took the bag and dropped it on her desk, then pulled her close. "I'd go further than that," he said, then kissed her lightly. "Although too far and it might defeat the purpose."
She frowned, and he laughed. "If I went to Dallas for your lunch, I wouldn't be back until after dinner."
She rolled her eyes. "Goof."
"That's why they pay me the not-so-big-but-market-appropriate bucks."
Sighing, she hugged him tight. "Thanks," she said. "I wish I could invite you into a conference room to eat with me, but I have to get this revised spreadsheet to Frank before one, and--"
"And I only came for delivery," he said, extricating himself from her embrace. "Although, if this was a porn film, I'd climb under your desk and distract you while you worked. A little cream cheese in some interesting places..."
"Interesting's one word for it," she said.
"Delicious is another."
"Perv."
"Only for you."
"Now you're a liar, too," she teased.
"Not even a little bit."