Out Of Place (Face the Music Book 2) (14 page)

Because she was offering sex.

So was he. It should be easy to agree.

His place.
He lived at home. It would fine. She wanted to do this and she didn’t want time to talk herself out of it—which she would if she waited any longer. “Make it four.”

He kissed her slowly, his hand on her hip keeping her close. Close enough that she could tell exactly how much he wanted her. His tongue met hers and she closed her eyes and let lust bubble through her blood and settle in her belly. She might have moaned but it was too noisy to be sure. Gradually they drew apart.

“Three minutes.” Then he was weaving his way back to his friends. In black jeans and the skull and crossbone fitted shirt he looked like he was in his element, and comfortable with himself. She felt like she was dressing up and playing grown up.

Olivia watched as the crowd swallowed him and tried not to wonder if she’d just been in the right place at the right time and if any woman would’ve done.

After a moment she realised she needed to get moving if she was going to meet up with him. She found Julie, feigned a headache, made her excuses and left. Someone would realise she wasn’t in the hotel room in the morning but by then it wouldn’t matter.

What would they say? Julie would ask…wouldn’t she? Olivia shook her head. Why did she give a damn what Julie thought? What any of them thought?

Near the exit she waited. What if he’d changed his mind and didn’t come? Fear tightened her stomach. What if he did? Lust and nerves tangled together. Then she saw him making his way over, his half of the fluffy handcuff on his wrist.

He took her hand and they walked out in to the sultry summer night as if it were the most natural thing in the word. If he had any doubts or fears, they weren’t showing.

On the footpath she stopped walking. “How are we getting to your place? Are you okay to drive?”

She hadn’t had enough to drink to consider getting in his car if he was over the limit. That was one mistake she’d never make again. She did a quick tally of how much money she had in her purse, but didn’t know how close he lived or how much a cab would be. She wouldn’t be able to trust him if he said he was fine because she’d heard that before, and she had no idea how much Ed had drunk.

“Hell no. Definitely not okay to drive and my car is at home anyway. I need my licence too much too risk losing it. There’s a taxi rank this way.”

She sighed with relief that they didn’t need to have that argument and that he knew not to risk it. They walked a little way down the road. The city was alive with people out looking for a good time. If tonight ended now, she’d had more fun than she’d expected.

He put his arm around her. “Can I drive you home in the morning?”

In the morning.

He was asking her to stay the night. What else was she going to do? Get a taxi from his place back to the hotel where Julie’s friends were staying? No. She didn’t want to spend more time with them. Go home when her mother wasn’t expecting her until tomorrow?

“That okay?” he asked when she didn’t answer straight away.

“Sounds great.” She smiled and hoped her anxieties didn’t show.

They got into the cab and Ed gave his address. It wasn’t that far away. He gave her hand a squeeze and there was a definite glint in his eyes, but he behaved himself for the ten minute taxi ride.

She recognised his car in the driveway as the taxi pulled up. Once out of the cab, she counted six cars.

“Who else is here?” How many siblings did he have? How many people would realise she’d spent the night?

“My sister, Gemma and my parents. Don’t worry about any of them.”

“They don’t care?” Her parents would if she was bringing guys home. She never had. Not even Miles had ever stayed over.

Ed shook his head and unlocked the door. “Only if I make too much noise. Practicing at three in the morning is not allowed, no matter how good the idea.”

They slipped into the house, through the kitchen and down the hallway. Her heart was pounding loud enough to wake the neighbours, but no one in the house stirred. He pointed to the toilet and bathroom as they passed, pausing to indicate the clean towels under the sink, then opened up another door.

His room.

It was tidier than she’d expected, but then her brother was a slob. There was paper all over Ed’s desk and three guitar cases against the wall. He shut the door and turned on a small light on the bedside table.

She’d have been happy without any light, but when she looked at him and saw the desire making his hazel eyes liquid gold, she never wanted the lights off again. Tears pricked her eyes. It had been so long since anyone had looked at her like that. He moved closer and placed his hand on the doorframe by her head.

Her heartbeat doubled as her body tensed, needing to be touched. His mouth claimed hers, softly touching, teasing, sampling her lips and tongue as she explored his. For some reason she’d expected more harsh need and rough lust, not tenderness. Her eyes closed as she let herself drown in the moment. Her blood was like honey sliding through her veins.

He traced her cheek then his fingers slid in to her hair. He paused and drew back. “I want to pull out the pins but I don’t know where to start.”

“I think the hairdresser meant it to be indestructible.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” He pulled a pin free and dropped it on the floor.

They could spend all night pulling them out. She caught his hand before he could attempt to find another. “That isn’t where I want to feel your hands.”

She traced her fingers down his shirt front. When she reached the last button she flicked it open. While she’d seen him half naked before, that had been different. That had been casual and innocent at the beach. This had intent. His lips were on her neck then lower, pulling aside the neck of her dress to kiss the edge of her scar.

In that moment she almost loved him.

Her dress loosened as he undid the zipper, then he eased the fabric over her shoulders, his fingers skimming the scars but not stopping. The dress slid down her body, leaving her vulnerable in her underwear. Ed followed the dress down and untied the ribbons on her shoes. She wasn’t able to look away. The one thought in her head was that he shouldn’t be on his knees. He was supposed to have people falling at his feet.

His hand traced up her calf as his gaze locked with hers.

She eased one foot and then the other out of her shoes. The carpet was soft against the soles of her feet and Ed’s fingers were cool on her skin. He kissed her thigh as he stood.

Her heart beat a little faster, part nerves and part excitement. Her belly was tight and she wanted his hands to move higher, to slide her knickers down. But he didn’t. He pressed closer, his body hard against hers. She claimed his mouth and pushed off his shirt. Her hands glided over his chest, his ribs, his stomach, and she realised this was actually going to happen…unless she left now.

She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to live and feel alive. She wanted to feel loved. It had been so long she’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone’s hands on her skin. The tingle, the heat and the need swelling in her blood.

Instead of being cautious she kissed him hard, as though some wanton creature had taken over her body and sex had become oxygen.

The more he touched her the more the need increased. She undid his jeans and then they were tumbling to the bed and stripping off the last remaining pieces of clothing between kisses.

His hands glided over her skin, dipped lower between her legs. His touch was soft, as if he was working out what she liked. Right now, it was everything. It was all good and she needed more.

Her hand brushed his bare erection, his skin hot and hard, and the tremble returned to her stomach. This was someone new and she didn’t know what to expect. She could count on one hand the number of guys she’d been with. Ed, on the other hand…she didn’t want to know his number.

Her gaze darted to the box of condoms he’d put on the bedside table—would he be weird about wearing one? That was another risk she was never taking again. But he was already there, reaching for the box and then tearing one open. At least one of them knew what they were doing and wasn’t silently freaking out.

When he moved over her this time, there was a question in his eyes and on his lips. “You sure?”

Was she? Could you ever be?

At some point that bridge had to be crossed, and she needed to know what it was like on the other side. It might be a very long time before she got another chance and she wasn’t sure she could wait any longer. She needed to get to the other side to put the past firmly behind her for good.

“Yes. I want you.” She lifted her hips and pressed her fingers into the cheek of his butt, urging him to come closer. If she acted, she couldn’t think.

He did, but it was slow and measured, as if he didn’t want to rush. The sensations trickling through her were so sweet. She wanted to taste him and breathe him in as if they could never be close enough. Her body responded to each thrust as though it were feasting after too long without. A tiny climax burst in her belly.

It wasn’t enough. Her legs hooked over his, her body knowing what it needed and how to get it. Ed groaned and he moved so he could put his hand between them. His fingers glided over her clit as he thrust in to her. Her next climax flooded through her body, making her gasp and her back arch. His mouth closed over hers, kissing her hard as he thrust deeper before stilling as he came.

For a few moments neither of them moved. His weight was comfortable as he lay tangled with her. She was panting and he was breathing just as fast, but when he looked at her he was smiling. She tried to smile, but found tears spilling instead.

“Hey.” Ed moved, pulling away to ditch the condom, then his arms were around her, drawing her close.

“I’m sorry.” She brushed the tears away but more fell. She shouldn’t be crying. “I’m ruining it.”

Which made her cry more. The makeup must be going everywhere. Why did she have to wreck everything?

“It’s not the reaction I’d hoped for.” He kissed her temple. “Are you okay?”

She nodded with a sob caught in her throat. “You’re the first.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” There was a touch of laughter in his voice. She didn’t want to be laughed at.

“I meant since Miles.” She clung to Ed’s arm, hating the way she was unravelling and yet unable to stop. All the careful walls she’d built around herself and her heart were breaking apart and the old pain of Miles’s death was back. The knowledge she was alone, the only parent Ethan had and that she didn’t belong here in Ed’s bed all pressed down on her.

He didn’t say anything. He held her and pulled the sheets around them.

“I should go.” This was all kinds of embarrassing. She’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

“Neither of us can drive. Sleep a few hours. Dawn will come and I’ll take you home.”

That was the smart thing to do. Would she be able to sleep in a strange bed next to him? She lay down. The bed felt weird. Too hard and the pillows were wrong. Being in bed with someone felt odd. He reached out and turned off the light before pulling her close again. She closed her eyes and tried to stifle any more tears.

What had been daring a few hours ago now sat uncomfortably in her stomach—although that could be the Mexican dinner and the cocktails and the shots.

Ed didn’t know if he had fallen asleep before or after Olivia, only that her tears had surprised him—and not in a good way, as he’d had a moment of panic that he’d made a big mistake—and her admission had shocked him.

He’d thought she’d had other boyfriends since her fiancé, or at least partners. It had been three years since she’d been with anyone. As he lay awake in the pre-dawn light knowing he wouldn’t get a surf in, and frankly shards of sunlight were not what he wanted with his hangover, he remembered the first time he’d seen her. She’d been wearing a ring. Not a dress ring but her actual engagement ring on her left hand.

Why had she taken it off? Did she regret what had happened between them? He had no idea, but he liked that he’d been the one to break the drought.

When he turned and looked at her, she was sound asleep. Her makeup was smudged—she really didn’t need to wear so much, and hadn’t on any of the other occasions that he’d seen her—yet her hair had survived. That was a little terrifying.

Any other day, if he woke up with a woman in his bed he’d push his luck. It had been a while since he’d had anyone stay over, and not because his parents cared too much, but because he hadn’t had a girlfriend that he’d wanted to take home.

As he watched Olivia sleep he could almost taste the music. That same melody he’d been thinking of when out on the water. It was more uplifting than some of the other songs he’d been working on.

He slid out of bed, pulled on board shorts that had been thrown over his chair, grabbed a notebook and guitar, then left her sleeping. In the kitchen he made a coffee and enjoyed the silence of the house. It didn’t take long for him for him to get lost in his writing and forget about his coffee.

“What you working on?” Kirsten sat opposite him.

Ed slammed the book closed before she could see all the scribbles, and glanced at the time. He’d been sitting here for nearly an hour and had the melody down and a few lines of lyrics. The words weren’t quite working, thus all the scribbles. The song wasn’t quite as happy as he’d thought it would be. He knew he wasn’t exactly what Olivia wanted, perhaps her tears had been for her dead fiancé, and it was showing in his scribbles.

“Did I wake you?” He’d been playing very softly. Usually he’d have been in the garage but he didn’t want to leave Olivia lost in the house and wondering where he was—nor did he want to lay in bed and miss the chance to capture what he was thinking. He’d made that mistake before and when he’d tried to go back it was never the same.

His sister shook her head. “Don’t you know how to sleep in?”

Not really. Not with someone in his bed or there was the chance of a surf or when an idea was forming. He’d always been one of those kids up at first light no matter the day. Although after a few late nights he usually managed to sleep a little longer. “No. How’s the new car?”