Yvonne Lindsay – Mistresses: Just One Night: Never Stay Past Midnight / A Dangerous Solace / One Secret Night (страница 12)
This was ridiculous. It was one day.
She could go
No matter how good he made her feel. No matter how hard he made her—
It would be easier to get through if she was tired and could just sleep off the rest of the hours.
Only walking past her bedroom door, she found there were two problems with that. The first, she wasn’t tired. The second, one glance at that bed and she was thinking about what Levi had done to her the last time they were in it together.
Her breath leaked out on a shaky sigh.
Less than one week, and he’d already made her an addict.
The walls of her apartment seemed to crowd closer as the minutes passed. Her skin felt hotter with every wayward thought, memory, fantasy … all of which seemed to be wrapped around the hard body and intense blue eyes of Levi Davis.
She turned back to the living room, determined to find something on television to get caught up in. It was one day. She could absolutely make it one day.
The live band was one Levi had handpicked, always enjoyed, and brought a huge local following. Hell, like many of the bands he booked, they were already on their way to making the big time … but tonight the hard driving beat reverberating through the floors, walls, and bones in his head was too much.
He was edgy. Irritated. Prowling the club looking for trouble when he’d trained just about every employee too well himself to actually find any. Either that or word had spread like wildfire that he was on the rampage and everyone had wised up enough to make sure he didn’t find any slack.
Rounding the center bar, he checked the stock as Finn backed out of his way, quickly moving toward the customers at the opposite side. Trying to look busy. Or, more likely, just busy.
They were low on Grey Goose. Levi raised a hand to get Finn’s attention, but lowered it again as one of the barhands jogged up with a full bottle, then took a quick step back when he saw Levi.
Nice. He needed to wipe the scowl off his face and ease up. His people were doing a bang-up job and the fact that it hadn’t worked out to hook up with Elise today didn’t have anything to do with them.
Truth be told, it shouldn’t have mattered a lick to him. It never had before.
He wasn’t seventeen, so the driving force below his belt that was hammering his patience into dust didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
Par for the course when it came to Elise, it seemed.
No sense in fighting it, making himself and everyone around him miserable. He’d give her a call. Let her know Bruno was all set, getting walked every two hours and enjoying his stint as the HeadRush mascot. He even had a lead on someone who might be interested in taking the dog, so it wasn’t as if he was calling just to hear her voice.
Hell no. He had a purpose. And if he happened to want to know what color her panties were when he got her on the line, then whatever … Or find out if she’d take them off for him if he asked just right … Okay, so maybe he did want to hear her voice. He wanted to hear what she sounded like as he learned just exactly what he could convince her to do with the sound of
The phone was out and he’d just finished texting the floor manager that he’d be off for the next thirty or so when he saw her. Little Miss Extraordinary Distraction herself, crossing the dance floor. She moved toward him, the rhythmic swing of her hips, short dress and high heels a seductive call to action.
Damn, she looked good. Almost as good as with the mud.
Sliding the phone back into his trouser pocket, he rounded the open-horseshoe end of the bar to meet her. He leaned close, drawing on that instant spark like a conduit. “Hello, beautiful. Isn’t this a nice surprise.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” Her voice barely registered over the noise from the band, so he wrapped a hand around her waist, urging her against him.
“Not at all,” he assured, letting his grip tighten the slightest degree. “Can I get you a drink?”
She shook her head, slowly brushing her cheek against his in a sexy, light caress. The contact felt good, only Levi pulled back, wanting to see her. Wanting to witness her reaction to the club he knew she’d never entered before.
His work. His creation.
Only she caught his sleeve and pulled him close again. Slid her hand down his arm and drew his palm to the lower curve of her hip.
His gaze dropped to his fingertips skimming the bottom hem of the simple sheath.
She leaned closer so her breath washed over the column of his neck as she answered him. “You look like you could use a distraction.”
There was nothing remotely subtle about their exit. Some poor kid in one of those bar uniforms came up with a question just after Elise had pulled the most brazen move of her life, but before the guy even had a chance to speak Levi told him to find the floor manager for whatever he needed. He was taking the night off.
And he’d said it without ever looking away from her eyes.
Now the hand she’d blatantly rubbed over her thigh was locked around her fingers, towing her through the far end of the club toward what appeared to be a service area congested with people. People who wanted Levi.
The calls shot out one after another, but Levi didn’t break stride or stop for any of them. His only response as they rounded a corner leading to the back stairs was a curt, “Floor manager. I’m off.”
Stopping at the base of the stairs, Levi let her pass, resting his hands at her hips as he followed her up.
Anticipation simmered through her veins as she climbed the short flight. With each step, her dress shifted under Levi’s palms. Inching up. Sliding down. The silky-soft friction of one sheer layer of fabric coasting over the other in a decadent rush.
At the second floor, Levi stepped close, tightening his grip. The hall was dim, the illumination more blue than bright, with a single door halfway down on the left. Guided by his body against hers, they walked the distance to what turned out to be his office.
Elise entered a room that was more functional than cool, outfitted with an oversized desk, bank of filing cabinets, low-profile table, black leather couch, and a couple of armless chairs that looked as though they’d come from restaurant stock. Like the apartment, there was nothing personal within. But unlike the loft, where the music could only be heard and felt, here she could see everything.
Crossing to the solid wall of smoked glass, she looked down over the main room of the club, the center bar, and the dance floor beyond where bodies moved in union to the heavy beat of the music. “Your club is incredible. You designed all this?”
“Concepts mostly these days. I’ve got a team working for me, so there’s a lot of credit to go around.”
“It’s wonderful.” Then, fingers trailing over the glass, she commented, “I didn’t realize there was anything up here.”
“It’s a combination of mirroring and other effects that basically keep it one way.”
Elise shot a glance over her shoulder to watch Levi close and lock the office door. Then test it once.
A smile tipped the corner of her mouth as wet heat licked a teasing path through her center. “One way. So no one can see me here?”
“No one but me.”
Levi blanketed her from head to heel as he pressed into her from behind, burrowed his nose into her hair. Starting at her shoulders, he followed the lines of her arms until he caught her wrists in a loose hold, brought them overhead to link around the back of his neck.
“Like this.” Warm breath washed over her ear and with it came a low groan of masculine appreciation that sent shivers of excitement shooting the length of her body, tightening her nipples and core.
Again those thick hands skimmed down her arms, following the outer swell of her breasts, drifting in to touch the frame of her pelvis and then down to the tops of her thighs and inward the slightest degree. Her breath caught as he played at the hem of her dress, fingering the bare skin beneath. Making her shiver with anticipation as he toyed with the sensitive flesh still too far from where she wanted him to be.
“Levi.” His name slipped out on a soft gasp at another light stroke of his fingertips against her inner thighs, this one higher, deeper.
And then his lips were against the shell of her ear, his breath teasing the whorl. “What did you come here for tonight, Elise?”
Her pulse skipped, though whether it was the question itself, or the light clasp of teeth against her over-sensitized skin, she couldn’t know. She loved it that he wanted to hear her say the words, loved that, with him, she wasn’t afraid to play this sensual game, or tease a little in return … no matter how far out of her depth she’d found herself.
Closing her eyes, she let the imp in her answer, “I thought we could talk.”
“Liar, liar.” The low rumble of his claim stroked over her, working her senses into a frenzied pitch.
Her gaze dropped to her dress, riding inches too high against his wrists where his hands dipped beneath. “How do you know?”