Page 36 of Crazy for You

“It is,” she said quickly. “I want you, Ryan.”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Emma. “Right now, it’s time for us to go home…separately. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.” When his dick wasn’t hard as granite, and he had enough blood left in his brain to think this through properly.

“Oh.” She looked disappointed.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He drew her up against him for one last kiss, and she melted in his arms all over again.

Dammit. He might not ever get his head back on straight where Emma was concerned.

He took her hand in his and led her back through the bar area to the dance floor. They paused to say good-bye to Trent—still dancing energetically with his friends—then walked outside into the cool night. Emma hadn’t brought a jacket so she hustled him toward her silver RAV4. When they got there, she went up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Thank you, for tonight,” she whispered. “It was…amazing.”

He nodded. “Drive safe.”

He watched as she got into her car, started it, and drove away. The night around him seemed to echo with silence after the blasting noise of the club. He walked slowly toward his bike, parked around the side of the building.

Brussel sprouts. Sauerkraut. Blue cheese. Green tomatoes.

He ran through all the nasty foods he could think of as he stood beside the Harley, waiting for the pressure in his dick to ease enough that he could climb on without causing himself serious pain. He eased himself gingerly onto the seat and cranked the engine.

He went straight home, but it was still a hell of an uncomfortable ride. He didn’t let himself think of Emma again until he was safely inside his condo.

Emma.

He was still hard, still aching for her. The truth was, he hadn’t been with a woman in at least six months now. Had he been lusting after Emma for that long? She was the only woman he could conjure up in his fantasies, the only woman who made him hard.

And he’d punished himself long enough, denying his fantasies of her. In fact, maybe his sexual frustration was part of the reason he’d let himself go tonight.

Well, there was at least one problem he could fix. He headed for the shower, desperate for relief, the memory of Emma’s pleasure still buzzing in his blood. In this case, the reality had definitely been better than the fantasy. Now that he knew what she sounded like when she came? The beautiful glow on her skin after he’d sent her flying? He’d never fucking forget it.

He cranked the shower up nice and hot then shucked his clothes. His dick stood urgently at attention, refusing to be ignored. Cursing under his breath, he stepped beneath the shower’s steamy spray.

Emma…

He remembered the soft sounds she’d made as he touched her, how hot and wet she’d been when he slid his hand inside her panties… His dick surged, throbbing in time with the wild pounding of his heart. He reached for the bar of soap and slicked his palm then gripped himself. As he tightened his fist, he imagined Emma there with him in the shower, urging him on.

“You’re so hard, Ryan. I’m getting so wet just watching you.” In his filthy mind, that’s what she’d say. He pumped his fist up and down his shaft, tugging harder as the aching need grew more intense. He could almost feel the heat of her stare, and the fantasy of her watching made his dick harder still. He closed his eyes and braced his free hand against the wall, his head bent, the shower beating down over his shoulders.

“Come for me, Ryan,” Imaginary Emma whispered in his ear.

His balls drew up tight against his body, and he tensed, then release pulsed through him, hot and fierce. He stood there, head bowed, gasping for breath for several long seconds. But even now, his yearning for Emma never lessened. If anything, it grew stronger. And the next time he came, he wanted to be inside her.

9

Whoa. Emma lay in bed, her body still humming with satisfaction. Had she really let Ryan put his hands up her skirt right there in the back hallway of The Music Factory? Yes, she had, and oh, had it been worth it. If this was what it felt like to be bad, she never wanted to be good again.

Who’s in for cinnamon buns in the morning? she texted to her friends. I have a major dare update to share

OMG, Gabby replied. This better be good! You guys were so obviously hot for each other on the dance floor tonight.

Oh, it’s good. She inserted a winking emoticon and several flames. I’ll spill all the deets tomorrow around 8?

This ignited a flurry of texts from Gabby, Carly, and Mandy, all of whom promised to be there tomorrow morning at eight to hear her news. Emma put her phone on Do Not Disturb and set it on the nightstand, turned out the light, and crashed almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, with Smokey snuggled in beside her.

She woke the next morning with memories of Ryan still dancing in her mind. Holy shit. That really happened. Nothing boring or predictable about anything she’d done last night, and she liked it. She loved it. No use trying to deny it any longer. It wasn’t just a wild and crazy fling she wanted.

She wanted Ryan.

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