“For the love of all that is holy, whatever you do, do not throw up in this car,” he said as soon as he slipped behind the wheel. “I love this car and that is one smell I’ll never get out of the leather.”
At any other time, she would have had the presence of mind to be offended by his assumption that she was about to toss her cookies on his expensive leather interior. Working up a scathing remark seemed like too much work and Sarah settled back further in her seat. Besides, for some reason she couldn’t get her sluggish brain beyond the fact that the spicy, masculine scent she could only identify as Falon was quickly filling the small space within the car.
“This baby’s like cast iron,” she said, lazily patting her tummy which let loose a gurgle in protest.
Falon snorted as he backed out of the parking space. “We’ll see about that.”
She must have fallen asleep, or passed out, or whatever it is that tequila makes a body that never consumes alcohol do because the next thing she knew, Falon was leaning over her telling her it was time to go inside now. Licking her suddenly dry lips with a tongue that felt two sizes too big, she tried to concentrate on his fuzzy features. Did he just say he was going to take her to bed? Seducing Falon was easier than she thought.
“Come on Sarah,” he huffed, pulling her from the car. “I meant what I said about throwing up in my car.”
Sarah couldn’t suppress her fit of giggles as he slung her arm around his neck. “Why so serious,” she said through pursed lips, which only made her laugh harder. An action she instantly regretted when the rolling in her stomach increased effectively silencing her.
“Come on, let’s get you inside before you make a mess,” he said before scooping her off the ground. Later she would blame it on the drunken haze that stopped all reason from entering her brain, but as soon as she felt the hard planes of his chest against her Sarah curled up closer to his warmth and let out a contented sigh. A girl could get used to this.
Falon hesitated for a moment before quickly walking up the stairs. When he reached the door, he let her down gently and held her until she regained her suddenly precarious balance.
“Keys,” he said gruffly when she didn’t automatically move to unlock the door. She was too busy enjoying his nearness to register anything else around her.
“Oh, right.” She dug into the small clutch purse she didn’t remember claiming back from the coat check at the club. Falon must have remembered to grab it on his mad rush to get her home. When she successfully located the keys, which proved harder than it really should have with such limited space to search, Sarah held them up in victory and nearly sent them flying over the railing and into the bushes beside the stairs.
“Allow me.” He snatched the keys from her loose grip and gently led her inside. Switching on the entryway light he directed her to the stairs. “Go get yourself in bed. I’ll be right up with a glass of water.”
She could only stand there, swaying slightly, and look at him. Was he saying that she thought he was?
“Do you need help with the stairs?” His look of concern shook her out of her thoughts and she gave a quick shake of her head, which sent the room spinning slightly, before slowly tackling the stairs. Thoughts of what she should do once she reached her bedroom circled in her head. If Falon meant to spend the night with her, she was going to make it a night he would never forget.
Chapter Six
Falon sat at his desk feeling miserable and Sarah Maxwell was solely to blame. After watching her shakily climb the stairs the night before he made a quick search of her kitchen cupboards for a glass. After filling it he stopped by her first-floor bathroom for a few aspirin he was sure she was determined she wouldn’t need but he would insist she take. What was the woman thinking drinking that much tequila? According to Marcy, Sarah only indulged in the rare glass of wine so it was no wonder the expensive and highly potent liquor knocked her on her ass.
Shaking his head as he took the stairs two at a time, he was working up the steam to give the stubborn woman an earful for her behavior tonight. The thought had him stopping dead in his tracks. What was it to him if she had too much to drink and felt miserable the next day? Shaking off the sudden protective instinct Sarah invoked in him, he vowed to keep things in perspective. She was just another woman in another city that he would be walking away from in a matter of weeks. It was none of his concern what she did or didn’t do to her body.
When he pushed open her half-closed door and found Sarah passed out across her bed, sexy little blue dress still wrapped lovingly around her curves, he had to repeat that thought over and over again. With a resigned sigh, he placed the glass and two small white pills on the bedside table. He carefully removed those sexy shoes and tried not to think about bending and nibbling the arches of her feet until she woke, ready for him to nibble his way up her body. He shook his head to clear the images her tiny, delicate feet invoked.
With more force than necessary, Falon yanked back the colorful comforter that was spread across her king-size bed. What a little woman would need with that much bed he didn’t know, and as he slid her slender legs under the covers flashes of just what she could use the bed for raced across his mind. Yanking the covers up to her chin, he quickly left the room. Double-checking the front door locked from the inside, he shut it and climbed into his car before he turned around and made a fool of himself. He was in no state of mind to join Sarah in her bed that night, not to mention she was dead to the world.
That night, in his lonely hotel bed, Falon had a dream he hadn’t had in nearly ten years. He was back in his college dorm room when the door suddenly opens and a warm body slides in next to him on the narrow bed. Thin arms reach for him and then he’s drowning in the hottest kiss he has ever experienced. The sudden feel of warm, naked flesh against his bare chest caused him to fly into a frenzy as he ripped his boxers off and pulled the woman under him.
His hands explored her compact curves that were designed to drive men wild. His breathing grew labored and he had to know who was pushing him so close to insanity, so in a flash of movement before her tongue could break his will Falon pulled back. Instead of the vague outline of features he had experienced in his previous dream, when he pulled back it was Sarah under him looking at him with such desire and longing he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
Just as he bent to fiercely claim her mouth, he was wrenched awake by his alarm. Lying there panting covered in sweat and with a tent in the sheet boy scouts could camp under, Falon acknowledged he had come dangerously close to having his first wet dream since discovering his foster father’s Playboy stash.
Sitting in his office just feet from Sarah with the memory of last night’s dream still fresh in his mind had him on edge. His nerve endings felt raw and just the thought of her bare breasts pressing against his chest had him shifting his seat in an attempt to alleviate the pressure.
As much as that dream had made him want to get on with his plans to get Sarah into his bed, he couldn’t figure out how she earned the starring role in the dream that had haunted him for nine years. It had been his senior year in college when he first had the dream. There was a party on his floor and he’d had quite a bit to drink and stumbled his way to bed in the early hours of morning. He woke a few hours later sated and wondered if maybe the events had truly happened. He searched for the mystery woman who ignited such a response in him for weeks¸ desperate for a repeat performance, but could never find her. That’s when he decided his oversexed brain mixed with copious amounts of cheap beer had been the source of his greatest sexual experience. Sad. But true. And now Sarah has taken that spot which could only mean one thing. He had been too long without a woman, something that he needed to change as soon as possible.