In the tight space between Tyler and the counter she turned around, trying to ignore the heat of his body so close to hers, and how the simple act of tipping her head back to be able to see his face was doing crazy things to her belly. “And then we’re done.”
Tyler let out a slow breath, meeting her eyes. “And then we’re friends.”
Setting the heavy glass down on the counter beside her, he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “But until then…what do you say we make the most of this thing? Do it up right?”
It sounded so good. Like exactly what she wanted. Needed. Only she couldn’t help but ask, “You sure about this?”
Eyes crinkling around the corners, he’d winked. “Are you?”
Now, hours later, Maggie slanted a look across the table at the man who’d well and truly ruined her for all other dates. He’d been over the top at the start of their date, setting the mood for fun and easy, by regaling her with tales of his youth—how his brothers and he basically sacrificed their eternal souls ensuring their mother was first in line for sainthood. His father’s first six attempts at the birds and the bees, and how his younger brother, Mitch, then twelve and a hellion by all accounts, had smoothly stepped in, providing a clear and concise account that had the whole family terrified about what he’d been up to. The Internet, apparently.
He told her about his first job, first dance, and worst kiss—keeping her laughing until her sides hurt and she’d pleaded with him to stop.
But as the hours progressed, the conversation shifted, relaxing into something more natural, flowing, and honest. They still laughed, because God, it was so easy with him, but they were serious, too. He told her about how he’d gotten into marketing by accident in college when his roommate was putting together a start-up. She told him about growing up in small-town Wisconsin. The things she loved and the things she hated and how sometimes those things were one in the same. And they talked about the differences between Chicago and the places they’d come from.
“I like Chicago. I really do. The architecture, music, and art. The food and festivals. The authenticity and sense of welcome. People make more eye contact, they”—he laughed, peering out into the night, before looking pointedly back at her—“they introduce themselves to their neighbors.”
She couldn’t help smiling. Only thinking back to that first day brought up questions. Ones he hadn’t answered before and she didn’t want to risk this perfect date on now.
“But, New York.” That dimple dug deep, telling her more than words could. “There’s just this energy about it. It’s so alive. Electric. Kinetic. Sure, I never really met my neighbors, and when I asked my brothers, they hadn’t either. But the way that city moves.” He shook his head. “And, hell, I don’t know. It’s…home. The place where you go that fits.”
She got it. Because Chicago had become that place for her. But what she didn’t understand was: “So what are you doing here? Your job is mobile. There’s nothing tying you down.” Not even a lease.
The words were barely out when she realized she’d touched on another of Tyler’s taboo subjects. Their warm bubble of ease and comfort seemed to pop, and for a moment when he straightened in his chair, scanning the restaurant around them, she thought he was about to call for the check. But then, he brought his focus back to her and, after a pause, he answered.
“I came to Chicago because…” He drew a slow breath, everything that had been so open about him mere moments before, now completely contained. But he was answering. And that was something Maggie hadn’t expected.
“The woman I was living with in New York wanted to. Things didn’t work out. And I could have moved home—everyone wanted me to—but I guess I wasn’t ready. So instead, I moved upstairs from you.”
“What happened?” she asked, her voice too quiet not to reveal the depth of her caring about his answer.
“This cookie-baking crackpot with a fetish for trash talk gave me something else to think about.”
That wasn’t what she’d been asking, and Tyler knew it. Just like she knew she’d gotten all the answers he was willing to give.
And maybe that was all right, because when she let it go, laughing him off and teasing back, allowing the conversation to move on…he was there again. Giving her his devilish grin and too-tempting eyes. Eyes she got a little lost in when they held with hers for more than the usual beat of time. Eyes that made her feel like she might be falling into something deeper than either of them had signed on for.
She looked away, because falling wasn’t an option.
If she wanted to come out of this night with their friendship intact—and more than ever, she did—she had to be honest. The man made her laugh, made her think. God, he made her feel things the way no one else did. And she didn’t want to lose it.
It hit her then. She really didn’t want to lose it.
“Maggie?”
If she followed through with the end of this date, with the kiss from this man who didn’t seem to know how to do things halfway, there was a chance she would be jeopardizing what they had between them.
“Maybe we should get the check.”
Tyler folded his arms on the table and leaned forward.
“What’s the problem?” he asked gently.
“It’s just…” she started, feeling like a fool for what she was about to say, but needing to regardless. “Tyler, maybe this is a mistake. Maybe we should stop where we are. End our date here at the table before we do something we can’t take back. I like the way things are with us now. And I know the kiss isn’t supposed to change anything because we both agreed it wouldn’t, but…what if it does?”
His mouth tilted to one side. “Worried you might like it too much?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I know I will,” he answered easily. “But unless something’s changed in the last few hours, neither of us wants a relationship, right?”
“Right.”
“So despite liking the kiss that you are most definitely going to like—and seriously don’t even bother trying not to, you’ll fail—it’s not going to change anything. The chemistry’s already there, Maggie. We’ve both felt it. We’ve both pushed it aside. But tonight we’ve got an opportunity. A free pass for a few seconds of fun with zero consequences. We’re going to like it, Maggie. We’re just not going to do anything about it. Okay?”
He was so confident. So sure.
And deep down, Maggie wanted to believe. She wanted this kiss. His kiss.
“Yes.”
Chapter Twelve
Snow had been falling steadily for the past few hours, and when the cab pulled to a stop in front of their building, the cold gray landscape of their midwinter neighborhood—the walkways, wrought-iron fences, stone awnings, and skeletal network of overhanging branches—had been transformed by a thick blanket of pristine white that continued to build as soft, fat flakes drifted down from the night.
Tyler hopped out into a quiet he’d never found on this street before.
From behind him, Maggie’s awed whisper reached his ears. “Beautiful.”
He turned, finding her halfway out of the cab, her face upturned to the sky, those earthy eyes bright between the flutter of dark lashes catching flakes. And her smile…how something she was so free with had the power to floor him every time, he’d never understand.
“About the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he answered, finding his voice suddenly hard to come by.
Reaching for her hand, and then around her, he laughed at her breathless squeak when he caught her up against him, leaving her heels to dangle a few inches above the snow.
Fingers gripping the shoulders of his overcoat, Maggie met his eyes with a startled look. “You don’t have to carry me.”
He nodded, holding her securely as he made his way up the snow-covered walk. “Wouldn’t want those sexy heels to get ruined.”
At the stairs, the snow thinned to a dusting that ended completely a couple of feet from the d
oor. Tyler eased Maggie down to her feet, keeping a hold with one arm because until he had to, he didn’t want to let her go.
“You really are a full-service date,” she murmured, eyes still locked with his.
“So what happens after the kiss?”
She swallowed, and then shook her head. “We go inside. To our respective apartments. Whenever we see each other next, we ruthlessly make fun of the whole date thing. And each other. Definitely each other.”
This girl and her borderline unhealthy obsession with trash talk. He loved it. “Nothing says ‘just friends’ like a little mudslinging.”
“That’s the idea,” she agreed on a laugh he couldn’t help notice sounded strained. Then, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked away. “No audience tonight. You’re lucky.”
Sliding his hand beneath the fall of her hair, he brought her gaze back to his. “I am lucky.”
But not because Ava and the guys were out for the night with tickets to see Sam’s fiancée du jour at Steppenwolf Theatre and then the after-party. No. He was lucky to have this one stolen moment that would be over nearly before it began. Lucky to have Maggie at all.
She peered up at him, the gorgeous eyes he’d seen flashing too many emotions to count over the past months now dark within the shadows of the night. Her lips were parted. Her body close.
He wanted to linger. Make this moment before last a little longer so he didn’t have to face the moment after, when there was nothing left to look forward to or anticipate because it was done. Behind them.
Only staring down into her slightly upturned face, he couldn’t wait.
He brushed his thumb over her smooth cheek. Felt the tickle of those wispy curls against his knuckles as, eyes locked, he lowered his mouth to hers.
One kiss.
Their lips met in a gentle, testing press that clung through one breath into the next.
God, she was soft. Her lips supple beneath the hint of friction that wasn’t nearly enough, but he wanted—needed—to savor this. The low charge humming between them began to build, concentrating in all the places they touched and a few he’d never meant to let Maggie near.
Her hands flattened against his chest. She leaned closer, giving him the slight weight of her body and a hundred more points of contact, turning the low hum into a jolt that had his every nerve and sense flipped online. Relinquishing his hold on that suspended first contact, Tyler sank into the back-and-forth rub of a kiss that deepened with each slow pass until Maggie’s lips were parted, her mouth his for one brief taking.
He could end this quickly. Finish it now.
Only it had been too long since either of them had had a decent kiss—and, damn it, he wanted this.
So rather than plunge into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth, he resisted. Instead resuming the slow rub of their lips, drawing and sipping at them, indulging in their pliant give and supple invitation.
He flicked his tongue at the corner of her mouth, once, and then again, tasting the first fray in her restraint when her next breath whispered out with his name and a tremor worked from her body into his.
Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a hot, hazy gaze.
“You ready?” he asked, calling on enough sanity to add a note of teasing and challenge to his question.
She answered with a smile. And then he closed the distance between them again, holding tight on the reins of his control as he slid past her lips.
She was sweet.
Wet.
Warm. And moaning against the slow thrust and stroke of him within her mouth. And that needful sound—if he wasn’t careful it would be the end of him. But he would be careful, because this he wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
Keeping one hand threaded through the soft silk of her hair, he used the other to pull her into closer contact. Letting the kiss escalate by controlled degrees, spread from their mouths to the press of their bodies. The firm swells of her breasts, pillowed against his chest. The flat of her belly and small jut of her hips.
He almost pulled away to look at her face, see if she felt what he was feeling, but caught himself before making the fatal error that would be the end of this one kiss he wanted to hold on to.
Only then it wasn’t up to him any longer and he didn’t need to look, because Maggie’s hands were crawling up his ribs, clutching at the fabric of his coat on one side before the opposite hand moved higher, taking hold at his shoulder, and then—fuuck—his hair.
And that sweet tongue of hers was sliding against his, drawing him deeper into her mouth as she pulled him harder against her.
Moaned again and clutched tighter.
Her mouth was so hot. And wet. And—
Gone.
She pulled back, a stunned look in her eyes as she sucked air a scant inch away.
Her fingers were knotted in the hair at the back of his neck and threaded up against his scalp, her breath feathering against his lips in ragged, broken little puffs.
Their one kiss was up. Only neither of them was letting go. And it suddenly occurred to him why he should have kept walking that afternoon rather than coming back and demanding this date. He should have known—one kiss would never be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
“Wow, that was— I didn’t really— But I should have—” Maggie stammered breathlessly, trying to force herself to let Tyler go. Step away and put the distance they needed back between them. Only with their eyes locked, breath mingling in the chilled night air, and the kiss she should have known better than to ask for still fresh on her lips, the most she could manage was flexing her fingers enough so her hands were free to coast down the thick column of his neck, over the front of his coat, and when the temptation was too great, back up again.
She didn’t want to let him go—didn’t want their moment to end.
“With your other dates,” Tyler began slowly, his eyes squinting closed. “Do you ever let them kiss you more than once?”
She wanted to laugh, because the idea of willingly letting any of those other guys back at her mouth was beyond ludicrous, something she ought to have had some smart quip about—only in that moment nothing seemed funny.
This was the end.
Forcing a shaky breath, she shook her head. “No. Never.”
Tyler nodded, his eyes dark and unsettled. “Good.”
His jaw set as though he were getting his head back into the right place. The place where they moved on from a kiss the intensity of which she couldn’t remember experiencing before and, putting it behind them, went forward as friends.
Like she wanted.
Deep down, she knew it was true, even if it didn’t feel that way right then.
The hand at her hip tensed. And when she looked back into Tyler’s eyes, she saw the dying embers of a conflict she hadn’t realized he was fighting. A conflict she didn’t fully understand until the divide between them closed again. Tyler’s lips came down on hers, hard, and then he was holding her so tight, and her hands were in his hair again, pulling him closer as he bowed her back, devouring her mouth like he was starved for the kiss he’d just had. Groaning against her when she met his hunger with the equal of her own.
Her back hit the door and everything inside her went hot and liquid, needy and intense. Any shred of control or restraint tore free of her grasp, violently stripping her thoughts of reason and rules. Because all she wanted was this.
Tyler.
Reminding her of everything she’d forgotten.
Teaching her things she hadn’t even known.
Waking the places within her that had been numb for so long, they burned coming back to life.
His big hands were beneath her open coat, sliding up and down the silk of her dress, which was good, because it made the fact that she’d already gotten inside his seem somehow less desperate. Or more acceptable. Or something.
She didn’t care—not about anything except that he was palming her breast with one hand and kneading the curve of her ass wit
h the other. Holding her close so she could feel the hardness of him, thick and long and—God, was that all him?—as he rocked into the press of her hips and his tongue speared between her lips. She gasped beneath the onslaught of sensation ricocheting throughout her body, the need rising like a cresting wave that threatened to crash over everything they’d agreed to.
Only then the world started to spin, and she found herself suspended inches above the ground, held firm between the hard plains of Ty’s body and the powerful strength of the one arm banded around her. She was moving in a dizzying rush, but the only thing that mattered was the hot wash of Tyler’s breath at her jaw, the bare scrape of his stubble along her neck, and the light grasp of his teeth at her ear.
She startled, finding her feet on solid ground, or some staggered variation of it. The stairwell?
He’d gotten them inside the security door, where no second-date kiss had gone before, and without her even being aware it was happening.
The man had skills.
Skills too incredible to spend her time contemplating when his mouth was working down the column of her neck and toward the V of her neckline.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled against her flesh before licking deep into her cleavage.
What? That was crazy.
“No, no, no, please, don’t stop,” she begged.
He moaned, gripping her harder, pulling her hips in tighter, so even through the confines of her dress she could feel him pressed so very close to exactly where she wanted him to be.
Another wet thrust of his tongue between her breasts and she shuddered, a near painful clench at her core driving a single word past her lips. “More.”
Tyler swore, his hands skating down her thighs before pushing back up—bringing enough of her skirt with him that he could press his leg between hers.
Their eyes met as he rocked into her. For an instant everything froze—her mouth dropped open, her lungs stalling with her heart as the thick, hard feel of his thigh against her center became the singular point in her universe.