Lucky Traveler Read online

  “These remind me of your pussy. Plump, juicy…a taste of what is to come.”

  Her lady parts clenched. Please let him mean me. A moan escaped. He scandalized her the way no one else did, shocking and pleasing in equal measure. For one night, could she hold onto their physical past without an emotional link? Hadn’t that been her reason for a blind date to begin with? A night of being desired and experiencing pleasure without the accompanying anxiety of a possible future? She swallowed once, grabbed her glass, tasted the fortifying bubbles, and swallowed again.

  “Shall we move on to the next course?” he asked.

  The waiter cleared their plates and served the next course, roast chicken for him, beef medallions in peppercorn sauce for her.

  “Thank you. I’ll take over from here.”

  “Very good, sir.” The waiter bowed and gathered the first-course dishes but left a covered silver dome that she hoped hid a dessert that didn’t involve frosting, pudding, or anything potentially fun. That would serve him right. But then again, it would be a terrible waste. She deserved some pleasure, even if only of the food variety.

  “Let me tell you a story, a true one, and one you wouldn’t be able to share with your class. Did you get that job in Dayton, by the way?” The tines of his fork drummed against his plate. She remembered she had once declared him more fidgety than a first grader.

  “No. I found out the Tuesday after…you know.” She peeked at him before staring at the table. Anything longer than a glance risked too much intimacy. “Talk about being kicked while down.”

  “Sorry.” Logan paused just long enough before responding, that his word sounded sincere.

  She sliced into the meat. The knife slid through with no effort, denying her the joy of sawing away frustration. She raised a morsel and caught a whiff of sherry in the sauce. Any fortification was welcome. The meat melted on her tongue, and the peppercorns exploded when she bit down. Umami and savory delighted her mouth.

  “Luscious.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Her face tightened. When he stared back at her, unflinching, in spite of her glare, she turned away. What an ass. Her sister had curves. That bridesmaid, too. If he called her cute, that would have been fine, but not curvy or lush.

  “You need glasses.”

  He shook his head but kept looking at her. She cleared her throat and drained her juice. With a low chuckle, he refilled her glass. That sound reminded her of the night he took her over the backside of his sofa and she knocked over the floor lamp. How can I eat if he laughs like that again? She squeezed her knees together and tried to regain composure.

  “It worked out okay in the end. Greeneville hired me as a sub and, at the end of the year, I’d made a good enough impression I was promoted to District Technology Specialist.” All those courses in coding and academic apps paid off. Too bad her college never offered coursework in men to avoid. She could have used a class like that. “My job is sort of why I’m here. Not only is it spring break, but I had a night between the end of the technology conference and Gwen’s and Kyle’s arrival, so I thought it might be my chance to have a guilt-free indulgence.”

  “And then I show up.” Her quick glimpse revealed a frown on his face that matched the discomfort in his voice. Good. He should suffer.

  His presence brought up myriad emotions—anger, lust, frustration, embarrassment, disbelief, longing, and insecurity, but not guilt. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Why are you smiling?” Logan’s voice startled her.

  “I hadn’t realized I was.”

  “If your steak is that good, I need a bite.”

  “Okay. One. But you promised me a story, and I’m willing to listen.”

  Chapter Two

  Logan enjoyed one last bite of everything, including her steak. How perfect his meal consisted of comfort food, chicken, and mashed potatoes. It might be the sole comfort he’d get. He didn’t deserve any other. Making amends had wreaked havoc on his appetite. He’d lost five pounds and more hours of sleep than that during the four days it took to build the courage to apologize to his cousin and best friend, Kyle. And that came during the relative respite of in-house rehab.

  “Do you remember a few months ago I tried calling, sent you email?” His leg bounced, and his mouth watered for something to drown his fears. Chicken-shit as ever.

  “Yes.” Keira’s flat tone held anger.

  “That was when I first tried to do this. My words are jumbled now, but I have my list. My sponsor had to talk me down a few times.”

  She rested her fingers on her cheekbone as she shook her head slowly side to side. “You are not a good storyteller. Even my second graders know a story has a beginning, middle, and end.”

  “Right. So. Um. Damn.”

  “Take your time. I have the room for the whole night.” Keira didn’t roll her eyes or sigh, but he recognized the sarcastic tone.

  “Yeah.” Lucky nudged his leg. I know. She’s perfect and all you’ve wanted, but not yet. Other head games first.

  “That doesn’t mean you have the room.”

  “Right.” He stood and paced the floor. Legs in motion and one hand gripping the coin meant all his unfocused energy drained into his left hand. He couldn’t control the tremors. Control never had been his friend, but he could try to make amends.

  “I am a weakling and powerless against alcohol.”

  “You said that before.”

  “I have used alcohol as a crutch, as a security blanket, whatever cliché you want to throw out there.” A knife squeaked on the plate. Her reflection in the window was a calm oasis compared to his storm within. Lucky wanted shelter. He blamed his cock when really he wanted shelter in Keira’s heart and body. But forgiveness would be okay, too, if that was all he could get. “I believed drinking made me more interesting. It helped me forget what I was scared of.”

  “Again, not much of a narrative here.”

  “Boy meets gir— No. Immature man-boy meets beautiful woman. They talk. He’s nervous. She’s pretty and smart, a teacher from a good home, and he’s frightened she’ll quit talking to him. So he takes some drinks. That’s what his dad did. But the man-boy is determined not to be a mean drunk like his dad. He’ll be a fun drunk.”

  “If this story is about you, then it should be horny drunk.”

  “Okay. He—” Logan’s lips flapped as he exhaled. Honesty. “I was a horny drunk, and I fell so hard and fast for you, it scared me. That first night you stayed over and gave Lucky a 3:00 a.m. wake-up call with your mouth? I’m ignoring that eye roll. Wow. I couldn’t get back to sleep, and it wasn’t because I was hoping to go another round. Nope. I wanted to wake up beside you, watch you stretch with your tits naked, and then make you breakfast.” Her teeth sank into her plump lower lip. He wanted a taste, too.

  Keira glanced down. “There’s not much to see.”

  He chuckled. “Are you kidding? I can’t look at a raspberry without thinking of your nipples puckered in my mouth. The color, the firmness.”

  Maybe she remembered something, too. Firm buds peaked against the fabric of her dress. How did that dress stay up? If he pushed the one sleeve down her arm to her elbow or wrist, would the whole thing fall?

  “Ahem. Eyes up here.” She tapped her temple. Her tone had the right amount of bossy.

  “Last time I saw you, you were motor-boating another woman’s melons, so don’t try….” Contempt oozed with each of her words.

  “I was in the process of getting drunk enough to forget my name, but I’ll never forget the look of betrayal in your eyes.”

  “Why did you do it, Logan?”

  “Because I loved you almost as much as I hated myself. I sabotaged us because you deserve better than a GED-holding high school dropout who couldn’t keep up with you. I hurt you before you could hurt me. I would have done something stupid even if I hadn’t been drinking.”

  “But why that night? You ruined the wedding.”

  “I’m working on m
y amends with Kyle and Gwen. I don’t know if they forgive me. Not yet, but they pretend to. That night, with all the family there, you got all dreamy around the baby. You looked like you wanted one. Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. I tried to drown the voice in my head that said I’d be a shitty dad. Giving you freedom seemed kind.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “I know that now.”

  Keira cocked her head and scrutinized him. In the past, he would have run for a drink. Part of him thirsted for one anyway, but he worked too hard at sobriety to give up now. What was she thinking? She should be in the CIA with that look. His confession was incomplete, and she could tell. He swallowed and rubbed the coin between his palm and fingers. His knuckles ached from the effort.

  “I woke the morning after the wedding in a strange hotel room with the bridesmaid, whose name I still don’t remember.”

  “Amber.” Her venom didn’t bode well.

  His throat dried out but if he stopped for a sip of water, he’d stop for good because he was still that much of a coward. Logan swallowed saliva and pride. “Right. She threw me out because it was check-out time. I asked if we’d used protection and she laughed that we didn’t need it because I couldn’t get it up. I stumbled to the lobby and tried to find my room key. The elevator dinged, you walked out, and I hid. You’d been crying. I hated myself for doing that to you. I went to the bar, started drinking, and didn’t stop for two months.”

  “And?” Keira put her silverware aside.

  “I don’t remember. I know I got fired from a few jobs and woke up in strange places and a couple of women told me I was no good at fu—”

  “You are, or were. You spoiled me.” A hint of a smile danced at the corners of Keira’s mouth, and Lucky stiffened up for all the good it did him. One smirk couldn’t change the past or fix his hurting heart.

  “Yeah, well, you moved on.”

  “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t be here if I had. I’m not the cheating type.”

  Neither was he, but her answer didn’t explain the evidence. “I saw a photo of you and your boyfriend on Gwen’s phone.” Logan hated that creep with his TV weatherman hair. The idea of his hands on Keira boiled his blood.

  “I tried to date, eHarmony, Tinder, anything that didn’t jeopardize my teaching job, but it didn’t work.”

  “Why not?”

  She glanced away, but not before he saw sadness in her expression. “Don’t make me say it.”

  He crossed the room, took her hands, and raised her from the chair. “Why not?”

  “Because they….” She mumbled something incomprehensible as she stared at the table.

  “Keira, look at me.” His heart pounded against his ribs. Hope brought disappointment, but also a reason to wake up in the morning. Her lip trembled. He moved his thumb to that little spot under the curve of her lower lip. Her shoulders released, and her gaze softened.

  She raised her lids, and those clear blue eyes stared into his soul. “Because they weren’t you.”

  He pressed her to his chest and nuzzled her bare shoulder. She smelled of heaven and home and damned if he didn’t detect a little arousal. Lucky did. He went full mast and tried to burst through the pants and jump over for a visit. Easy boy. You don’t get to go there unless you take me.

  Keira might not have accepted his amends, but had he even made them? Good and proper ones his sponsor would approve of? It didn’t matter all that much, yet. He took a metaphorical step in the right direction, and here she stood, in his arms, a fate he didn’t deserve. Her hands snuck inside his jacket, and all was good in the world. He ran his hand to the nape of her neck, but she suddenly pushed back and broke contact.

  What had he done now? The bottle used to help him understand women, but not anymore. It never had anyway. It gave him the stupidity to think he could figure out what they wanted. He didn’t want a drink of anything but Keira, even if she turned his head into a jumble worthy of an overturned toolbox.

  He tried to gauge her expression. Reading people wasn’t his strong suit, but even he noticed the tremble in her lips. “When I contacted this service, I promised myself, for one night, I would forget past transgressions and ignore the future. Even though you, of all people, walked through that door, I’m going to do what I came here to do and have a meaningless fling. Let’s stop the rehash and wash off the past.”

  Keira placed one foot in front of the other as if on a balance beam. The hem of her dress brushed her knees as it swished back and forth. The room air prickled against her skin. Left, right, pretend you know what you’re doing. The humidity increased, and a vanilla confectionary scent wafted around her. Her sister liked to say vanilla inspired happiness and well-being, but it didn’t soothe her stomach. She jittered like the first day of school and parent-teacher conferences. Her mom’s advice echoed in her head. “Pretend to be confident and in charge because you are.”

  She rolled her shoulder blades back and pressed them down as she turned her head to look over her shoulder at the dark-haired man standing in the middle of the room. Through pursed lips, she exhaled her fear. She could do this, even without a shot of liquid courage, so long as she turned off her mind and her heart. He was a body and capable of satisfying her physical need. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

  Without waiting for his response, she stepped forward toward the bathroom. One step, two, hand on the door, gentle push, no butterflies, click of shoe on tile, stare at the candles, beautiful light, noise. After a moment, the scuffing of shoes on carpet grew louder and a shadow fell across the partially open door.

  “A zipper,” Logan growled. “I wondered how that thing stayed up. Let’s reverse engineer that dress.”

  The squeak came from deep in her throat. She might hate him in the morning, but, first, she needed to excise him from her system, emotionally and physically. Besides, she’d never slept with him when he was sober. He deserved the chance to prove himself a dud.

  The flame danced before her, glints of red and gold reflected in the bubbles in the tub. If she avoided his gaze, she could pretend the past hadn’t happened and he was a stranger hot for her. His hot mouth nipped her bare shoulder. She moaned in response, as her physical needs battled her emotional resistance.

  “Are you sure about this, Keira?”

  His hair tickled her neck and fired up nerve endings all the way to her toes. No. “Yes.”

  He swept the hair from her nape and trailed his mouth across her skin. Heat rose between her legs. She gripped the doorframe with her right hand and let her left fall to her abdomen. His tongue swirled around a vertebra in her upper back, teasing her flesh and sucking hard. So much for pretending the past didn’t exist. Her clit throbbed, and her knees weakened. An animal-like growl came from behind her as the zipper went down, past her corset, until his lips brushed against the top of her ass crack. The shiver running up her spine reminded her of how good he was at going down.

  “I like this little gap.” His tongue danced across the gap between the merry widow and the thong. His hands ran up her sides, she pressed into his palms, undulating like a belly dancer. When his hands slid down, so did her dress.

  “Hot. I’ve been wondering what was under that dress all night. This”—he snapped the strap of the thong—“was worth waiting for.”

  He tapped her buttocks. The unexpected move made her giggle. She grabbed his arm and pulled it forward until she could place his hand on her breast. “The fabric is very sheer.”

  “You’re putting some pressure on it, all perked up like this.” The man knew how to apply the right touch, too.

  She turned and stared at the buttons on his shirt. “You are overdressed.” She put one hand on either side of the placket and tugged. The buttons stayed firm. “Darn it. That looks easier in movies.”

  “Forget movie sex. Let’s get naked.” He started to unbutton from the top. She yanked his shirt from the pants and worked from the bottom up.

  Their hands collided at the mid-point.
She lifted her gaze, saw his sexy smirk, and remembered not to meet his gaze. His fingers closed over hers.

  “Ready, sweetheart?”

  “For?”

  His arms jerked apart and the last button skittered across the floor. She laughed as it came to rest in the corner. When his laughter joined hers, she recognized the sound her life lacked.

  Her hands caressed the bare skin of his chest. He’d lost the flab that once hid the firm muscles underneath. He came by those sinewy contours the honest way, through hard labor, swinging a hammer and carrying heavy loads. They tightened as her fingers ran up and down. She tweaked his nipple. Hard. A low moan escaped his throat. He cupped her ass.

  “About that bath.”

  She took his nipple in her mouth. “Mmmm.”

  “I like you dirty.”

  He tended to bring out her— No future, no past. Just a good time.

  “Do you like me wet?”

  Another moan. She had her answer as his pants dropped to the floor and he stood in socks and boxer briefs.

  “That thing you’re wearing looks expensive. Otherwise, I’d drop you in that tub right now.”

  “It can come off.”

  “First things first.” His smirk could charm the devil. He nipped at her throat and then ran his tongue from the gap between her breasts to the top of the corset as he backed her up against the wall. “You’re going to need something to hold onto because I’m about to make you weak in the knees.”

  He snapped the sides of her thong. When it slapped against her hip bone, she gasped and her pelvis thrust in anticipation. He trailed his mouth over the sheer fabric as he genuflected before her. When he paused to look at her, she caught a glimpse of pure, undisguised lust before she looked away.

  In the mirror on the opposite wall, candlelight twinkled, and the sight of his head nestled between her legs aroused her even though her panties remained on. Hot breath inflamed her more. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the lace. She studied their reflection. The tenderness of the gesture raised the fine hairs at the back of her neck. You can do this. He’s a body, a perfect male physical specimen. And his hands were in motion.