Fallen for Rock (21 page)

‘I can believe that,’ I laughed. I was a teensy bit flattered that he should have bothered to listen and remember. It was like he cared. And that was nice.

‘However, you’ll have to live with my nosey neighbour,’ I cautioned him. ‘And with my lousy, healthy cooking.’

‘Really?’

‘Yup. Really. Although I guess there’s takeaways if you get really fed up.’

‘That’s not what I meant. I meant, really, I can stay for a while?’

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. ‘Of course. What are friends for?’

‘You’re sure? It’s no problem? What about your ex-boyfriend? Didn’t you…?’ He searched my face and answered his own question. ‘No. You didn’t. I’m sorry.’

Abruptly, he got up and wrapped me in a hug. ‘Well, I’d love to stay if that’s really okay. Thank you,’ he murmured in my ear. His breath was hot against my skin, and my legs started trembling. I swallowed hard but disengaged from his embrace.

‘Food’s ready,’ I announced, playing for time. ‘You hungry?’

‘You bet. But while we eat, I need to hear what’s up with you. What’s with this drug user business? And why aren’t you at work?’

Chapter Thirty-Three

‘Let me get this straight.’ Mike put down his fork and looked at me, horror-struck. ‘You had to leave? Just like that? Because of a photo?’

‘Nh-huh,’ I disagreed. ‘Not because of a photo. Because of the way I looked in the photo. You know. Like I’d overdosed, or something.’

‘But you’d hurt yourself. You could barely stand.’

‘I know. And the barely-able-to-stand-bit shows.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m mighty pissed off that Mark wouldn’t even listen to me.’

‘Is this legal?’

‘I dunno. I’ll find out. I’m seeing a lawyer on Wednesday.’

‘Gosh.’ Mike gave me a rueful smile. ‘You and me both. I’m sorry to drag you into this.’

‘Not your fault.’ I put on my best philosophical air. ‘What really angers me is that after all the hours I spent slaving my guts out, my word counts for nothing.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Ah.’ I swallowed. ‘The million pound question. I have no idea. I’ll figure something out. Meanwhile…’ I waved the Pinot Grigio suggestively. ‘More wine?’

‘Sure. Why not.’ Mike grinned. ‘Unless you have something stronger?’

‘Do I ever! Let’s see what you’re made of,’ I teased. Suddenly, I felt reckless. Mike appeared to have that effect on me. And what did it matter either way if I stepped out of character again and got blind drunk for once? Who would know, or care?

‘Uh-oh.’ Mike laughed while I reasoned with myself. ‘What’s she got up her sleeve now?’

‘Not up my sleeve. In my cupboard. Watch!’ I jumped off my chair and rummaged in the back of my kitchen cupboard. Ages ago, I had purchased a few extravagant bottles for a fancy dress party that I never got to attend because of a work crisis. Now, where were they? Ah. There was one.

‘Whoa. Tequila.’ Mike took the bottle from me and held it against the light. ‘It’s full.’

‘Well, let’s empty it,’ I challenged. ‘But wait, there’s more.’

I dived into another cupboard and retrieved a bottle of sparkling wine that I kept for special occasions. I had hoped to share it with Nate but… Best not go there.

‘Tequila slammers?’ I suggested as I set down the wine next to the spirit. ‘Sorry the bubbly isn’t chilled, but I’m sure it’ll do. Right?’

‘Wow. Golden slammers. Haven’t done those in a while.’ Mike shook his head and regarded me doubtfully. ‘Are you sure you’re up for this? You don’t strike me as a shots kinda girl.’

‘That absolutely does it.’ I banged my fists on the table, although sadly not hard enough to make the bottles jump as intended. ‘What do you mean, I’m not a shots kinda girl? I can be anyone I want!’

Mike laughed and held up his hands. ‘Fine by me. But don’t blame
me
for your monumental hangover in the morning.’

‘I won’t. I don’t get hangovers.’

‘Have you done slammers before?’

‘Of course,’ I lied. I had
seen
them done—surely that counted? And if I stopped after two or three, surely that wouldn’t be so bad?

‘Right. Let’s do this.’ Mike had spied my row of shot glasses on the shelf and retrieved two. If he was perplexed by the remnants of white wax in one of the glasses, he never let on. He simply rinsed it out in the sink and set both glasses down before us. I decided to keep silent about the fact that I normally only used them as candle holders.

Deftly and with evident expertise, Mike poured a finger’s worth of tequila into each glass. He opened the sparkling wine and gently topped the drinks up to just below the brim.

‘Ready?’ He shot me a wicked grin.

‘Ready,’ I agreed and took care to copy his actions. I placed the palm of my left hand tightly over the glass, exactly like Mike was doing. Following his lead, I lifted the whole thing up with my right hand and slammed it on the table as hard as I could. Immediately, I could feel the liquid fizzing up and bubbling against my skin. But oh, no time to consider! Mike picked up his drink and downed it. Bottoms up!

I followed suit and…wow. This was good! The drink ran down my throat, smooth and warm and fizzing, and arrived in my tummy like a big dollop of happiness. I shook my head and laughed.

‘Awesome.
Awe
some.’

‘Want another?’

‘What, right away?’

Mike arched his eyebrows. ‘We can wait.’

‘No, no. Let’s have another, why not. Go on. Cool.’ I caught myself gabbling and wondered if I could possibly be drunk after the first shot.

‘Okay.’ Mike obliged and poured out the next round of shots. ‘Ready?’

‘Ready.’

‘On three. One…two…three!’

We each slammed our glasses on ‘three’ and instantly downed our drinks. The second shot was even better than the first. I rubbed my hands eagerly. ‘Again!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes! Go on!’ I pushed my glass towards Mike. He hesitated for a second but refilled our glasses.

‘On three. To your very good health.’

I raised my glass in a toast before positioning it on the table for the slam. ‘And yours. A-one. A-two. A-three.’ Bang, fizz, bottoms up. I was definitely getting the hang of this.

Suddenly, Mike stood in front of me. He seemed to be swaying slightly.

‘Shall we go in the lounge, maybe?’ he suggested and held out his hands. I noted they were shaking, and inwardly I laughed. Now who wasn’t holding his drink?

‘Yesh. Do lesh,’ I agreed. ‘Lounsh. Good. Lesh go sit on the sss-ofa.’

I stood up and held onto Mike so he wouldn’t fall. Together, we wobbled into the lounge, but not before I had grabbed the bottle of bubbly off the table.

‘Be a sh-shame to waste it,’ I explained.

‘Absolutely,’ Mike concurred softly. He took the bottle out of my hand and placed it carefully on the coffee table. As he straightened up again, he tripped over my feet and staggered. It was all I could do to break his fall, and we toppled over in slow motion, him on top of me, until we miraculously came to rest on the sofa.

‘Why, hello,’ I joked. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

‘Emily…’ Mike’s voice was hoarse.

‘Mike.’ Mine was breathy. Mike loomed tall and powerful above me, his liquid eyes swimming in and out of focus, his breath warm on my skin. He raised himself up on his elbows and held me in his gaze.

‘Emily,’ he repeated, now with a distinct tremor. ‘I… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t come here to…’

I never found out what he meant to say. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face close to mine, close enough so I could kiss him on the mouth. His lips were hot and tasted of tequila, and I ran my tongue around them until I heard Mike groan with lust. I let my hands wander down his back until they came to rest on his buttocks, and I pressed him closer towards me so that I could feel his excitement pressing into my hips. Good!

I put my hands into the back pockets of his jeans and dug my fingernails into his buns as hard as I could, and Mike bucked and ground by way of response. His breath was coming in ragged bursts, and I could see his pulse throbbing in a vein on his neck.

‘I want you so bad,’ I whispered in his ear.

‘Is that so?’ he teased as he placed a hand in my hair and yanked my head back roughly. I sucked in a breath as I erupted in a delicious shiver all over. Unable to move now, I lay still and waited. Slowly, ever so slowly, Mike bent to kiss my neck, starting at the delicate spot right under my left ear and working his way down towards my breastbone. Down he progressed and further down, until he reached the swell of my breasts. My nipples were doing a fine job standing up taut and proud, and I was dying for him to touch them. As if he were reading my mind, he reared back slightly before lowering himself to nip and suck and lick, never mind I was still dressed. The feel of the fabric, rough and moist from Mike’s mouth, augmented his every action on my tender skin. Fireworks exploded in front of my eyes, and the room began to spin.

Mike took his sweet time teasing me. His hands rubbed me gently and, as he had done once before, he smoothly fingered his way into my jeans and to my sweet spot. His fingertips danced and massaged, circled, entered, withdrew and hovered, until I literally didn’t know if I was coming or going. The torture was exquisite, the pleasure divine.

‘Emily,’ Mike suddenly breathed into my ear before we could lose ourselves completely. ‘Are you sure you want this?’

‘Of course I’m sure. I’m sure!’ I moaned. ‘Don’t stop!’

Alas, there was more on Mike’s mind.

‘But we’re just friends, right?’

I rolled my eyes. For weeks I had been fantasising about Mike’s particular brand of animal passion. I had felt guilty about it even though I had no reason to, but I wanted it. I wanted him really bad.

‘Just friends,’ I reassured him in a panted, near-hysterical whisper. ‘No strings.’

At last, Mike didn’t press me further. He kissed me fiercely on the mouth while he deftly undid the buttons of my shirt with one hand. I barely noticed what he was doing, so wrapped up was I in feeling and sensing and floating on a delirious cloud of sexual and alcoholic intoxication. At some point, my jeans came off, as did his. My clit was moist and hot and swollen hard, a throbbing mound of pleasure that eclipsed my brain and my heart as vital organs, and every time Mike brushed against it, an orgasmic tsunami of epic proportions gathered pace. It released the very moment Mike entered me, washing over me and consuming me whole until my consciousness faded into swirl of warmth and darkness and fireworks.