Page 7 of Just a Little Crush

Her voice trailed off again, as if she didn’t want to broach a sensitive topic. “Despite the divorce and having to divide his time between two parents?” I finished for her.

“Yes.” She smiled. “Every time I see the two of you together, he’s like your little mini-me. Not only does he look a lot like you, at the pool party Raven and Remy had last month I was laughing at how much he tried to mimic you.”

I vividly remembered that day, not because of my son’s antics, but because of the bikini Stevie had worn that had her lush breasts and curves on display.

A light breeze blew, and I saw her shiver, and there was no missing the way her nipples tightened and pushed against the thin material of her dress. She rubbed her arms with her hands, and without thinking or even asking her if she was cold, because clearly she was and there were no heat lamps on this side of the terrace, I shrugged out of my suit coat.

“Here. Take my jacket,” I said, settling the material over her shoulders, not questioning the possessive way it made me feel to see her wrapped up in my coat.

She groaned as the warmth inside of the jacket chased away her chill. “So much better. Thank you.” She grabbed the lapels and pulled them closed in front of her, and I watched as she put her nose against the expensive cashmere fabric, closed her eyes, and inhaled.

“Mmm.” Her lashes drifted back open, her eyes half-mast and flirtatious. “It smells like you.”

I cocked my head, though my dick reacted to the husky tone of her voice. “Is that a good thing?”

“Areallygood thing.” She breathed in the scent again, and I imagined her doing the same thing against my neck where I’d lightly sprayed the fragrance. “Whatever cologne you wear…nowthat’san aphrodisiac.”

I chuckled. “Better than oysters?”

She laughed. “Most definitely.”

We both turned back to the stunning view of Manhattan at night, a comfortable silence settling between us.

I was the first to break it. “So, I’ve always been curious,” I said, casting a glance her way. “Is Stevie short for another name, like Stephanie?”

“No,” she said, and gave a wry laugh as she turned her head to look at me. “I’m actually lucky my name isn’tSteven. My father wanted a son. He didn’t get one with Valerie, who my mother named. And when I was born a girl, out of pure spite he named me Stevie, since that was the name he’d picked out for a boy.”

I felt my brows rise in shock.

“Yes, my father was an asshole,” she said bitterly, giving me the impression that her family’s history was just as dysfunctional as my own.

I didn’t want her traveling down that road. Not tonight, when everything was so enjoyable between us. “I like the name. It suits you.”

She gave me a skeptical, challenging look. “How so?”

“You’re feisty. Fun. Easygoing.” Without thinking, I lifted a hand and brushed a few wayward strands of hair off her cheek, the pads of my fingers caressing her soft skin. “Maybe even creative or artistic. Adventurous, despite not trying oysters.”

Her lips parted as she stared into my eyes, captivating me. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d paid that much attention to me, to be able to come to that conclusion.”

“Stevie…I paid attention.” My voice was low, raspier than I’d intended. I wanted to tell her all the things I’d noticed, all the different ways I’d imagined kissing her, fucking her, hearing her soft, sultry moans as I made her come.

Our eyes remained locked, and in the background I vaguely heard the DJ announce the last song of the evening. In front of me, Stevie’s pink, glossy lips curled up in a mischievous smile.

“Last song of the night and it’s a slow one,” she mused playfully. “Care to dance?”

I recognized a dare when I saw one. A temptation I ought to resist, but Raven was right. I did need to do things that made me feel good and happy, and right now, Stevie tapped into both.

Without verbally replying, I closed the short distance between us and took her into my arms. Sliding one arm inside my jacket and around her waist to bring our bodies flush together, and taking hold of her hand in mine. I heard her soft gasp of surprise, which reflected in her eyes as she looked up at me, as if she hadn’t really thought I’d follow through on her challenge.

We were quiet as we slow danced in the dark, our bodies moving in sync, neither one of us breaking eye contact. Our thighs rubbed as we shifted, and I slid my hand lower, to the base of her spine. Splaying my fingers, I pressed her even tighter against me, making sure she could feel the hard ridge of my cock grinding against her stomach.

Having her this close was pure torture, considering all the wicked things I’d already done to her in my head, in my dirtiest fantasies when I was alone at night, dick in hand. As the sexual tension between us heightened, I decided that tonight I wasn’t going to fight the attraction between us.

Mutual desire flickered in her gaze and her tongue skimmed her lower lip. “Caleb…” she whispered.

I heard the soft plea in her voice, and wanting to selfishly indulge myself when it came to Stevie, I released her hand and pushed my fingers through her hair, gripping the soft strands and tipping her head back so that her mouth was right below mine. Without hesitation, I crushed my lips to hers. Seconds later, my tongue slid deep and tangled with hers. She clutched the front of my shirt in her hands and whimpered, the needy sound reverberating throughout my entire body.

God, she made me fucking ravenous.

---