A Winter's Date (2 page)

Heather’s eyes shoot up swiftly, “Go get your own,” she says, attempting to hide my straining erection in the fabric of my sweats, but there’s not a hope in hell. My gift to women, to Heather, is no longer a curse.

Dillen hauls ass out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

“We need to get a deadbolt on this door if I’m ever going to be able to ravage you like I did in that capsule.”

Dillen’s voice comes screeching through the walls of her apartment, “Is there even a condom that fits you, Noah? Damn.”

“Uhh . . . ballerina? Do you want to answer that?”

“I’m on the pill, you butthead. He doesn’t need to wear a condom,” Heather blurts out as she deftly works to get my sweats off.

I hear Dillen snort, then sarcastically reply, “Yeah, because that’s one hundred percent effective.”

Dammit, Dillen, way to kill the mood.

Heather’s head quickly snaps up, and she looks into my eyes for the briefest moment. There’s nothing like throwing in the risk of pregnancy to get someone’s juices flowing. And before I can say a word, Heather looks as if she’s drawn some sort of conclusion and shrugs. The growl that escapes me is louder than I expected, as she dives back in and wraps her hand around my bare length.

Dillen must have heard my growl, because the next thing I hear is her yelling, “You lucky little shit. I’m so envious of you right now.”

Her words are soon lost to the both of us as we become entirely consumed in each other.

“Please? Do what you did to me last night?” she begs, and I’m going to give it to her all night until she is too sore to take me anymore.

“You better be ready for me, ballerina. I’m not wasting any time tonight. That little pussy belongs to me.” I can feel my pulse thrumming in my dick as she takes it into her mouth, sucking me off like I’m her favorite flavor of the month. I hear Dillen yell something, but I couldn’t give a shit. I know Coen just showed up on her doorstep and she’s about to damn well lose it with excitement.

Hell, I should probably send out a note of apology to all of our surrounding neighbors tomorrow because of the onslaught of screams that will be coming from this apartment tonight.

The flicks of Heather’s tongue bring me back as I unconsciously run my hands into her dark-chocolate hair. I meticulously pull her farther down my shaft and watch gratifyingly as her lips meet the base of my cock.

Countless hours pass before Heather and I emerge from her bedroom, only to find clothes strewn all over the living room and kitchen floor. I believe the pictures on the wall are crooked; either that, or I’m still trying to recover from my last orgasm.

“Was that Coen at the door?” She sounds genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, and I’m guessing his dick is currently wet. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was coming, but the two of you girls share everything and he really wanted it to be a surprise for Dillen.”

She jumps up and circles her arms around my neck, holding me fast as she presses those soft, rosy lips to mine. “You are the most amazing man. I’m so in love with you, Noah Ryan.”

“Mmm,” I hum against her lips before taking her bottom lip into my mouth and sucking. “I love you too. I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

She beams and stares me down with those gorgeous jade green eyes. Her little frame shivers in my arms, and I hold her closer. “Am I giving you goose bumps and orgasms now?”

“You know exactly what you do to me, Noah.” Her teeth graze the skin of my throat as she growls cutely.

“Are you complaining?”

“No,” she snaps out, “not one bit. Plus, if they weren’t in there . . .” She nods toward Dillen’s bedroom just as a violent, ear-piercing scream fills the apartment. We both freeze and stare at the door before she finishes her sentence. “ . . . I would be the one having a few more orgasms.”

“Holy fuck, that’s what she sounds like? I would be deaf after one round with her. I hope Coen is wearing earplugs.”

She smacks my chest and playfully scolds me, “Baby, you aren’t having a round with anybody except me.”

She gets a chuckle out of me, and I squeeze her firm ass. “Come on, let’s get some food in you before you wither away,” she says, playfully biting my jaw, and I fucking love it.

“I am not withering away. Can we order in tonight, please?”

“I’m fine with that.”

I carry her over to the couch and sit down with her on my lap. As I turn my head to look for the remote, my nose comes within mere inches of a bright green bra hanging from the sofa back. “Fuck, Dillen . . .” I jerk away as Heather’s laugh fills the room.

“Why in God’s name is her shit everywhere?”

She shrugs cutely. “When the moment hits, we’re not worried where our clothes go.”

I laugh at her response, and she reaches for her tablet. We spend the next few minutes playfully arguing about what to order before we finally decide to order enough Chinese food to feed us for days.

“Damn, someone worked up an appetite.”

She nods excitedly. “I’m sure Dillen and Coen have too.”

“Yeah, from the sound of it.”

With the remote in hand, I flick Dillen’s bra off the back of the couch so I can relax. A smile is already playing at my lips because I can feel Heather moving around on the couch. She’s trying to get comfortable, and I know it won’t be long now, so I sit and wait patiently. Within minutes she gives in and curls back up on my lap, sensually wiggling her ass as she rests her head against my chest. Her ice-cold fingers stray underneath my shirt before she starts pulling at my V-neck to get it off.

“Are you cold?” I ask in a low voice.

“I’m always cold.”

I pull my shirt off and she rests her head back down against my bare skin, running her fingers up and down my torso. I think she enjoys our skin-to-skin contact. My fingers trail along her arm as we watch one of the latest movie releases.

A half-hour passes before Coen and Dillen walk out of her bedroom. They both look battered up and fatigued.

Heather lifts her head from my chest and looks up at her friend. “Dillen, you are so stinking loud.”

“Heather, you be quiet . . . Coen is a maniac between the sheets.”

Coen laughs and slaps my shoulder as he walks past the couch and to the front door.

“Did you wash your goddamn hands before touching me, you assfuck? Welcome to London, by the way. How was your flight?”

“Yeah, thanks for making me get a cab, dipshit,” he says as he swings the door open to accept our food delivery.

“The cash is on the table to your right, and you’re welcome.”

Heather moves off of my lap to help Dillen spread out the food on the dining room table; the two of them are whispering, and I would love to know exactly what they are talking about. This woman has my attention at all times, and I don’t think she even realizes it. I get up and pull my shirt back on before joining the three of them at the table.

“Eat up, you sex fiends,” Heather chimes in, and I have to clear my throat because she is definitely not one to talk.

The evening passes quickly, with excited chatter filling the confines of Dillen’s apartment. A few hours later I’m back to the grind. I have my notes splayed out in front of me and a few textbooks taking up every inch of available space on the desk in Heather’s room. The thudding of Dillen’s headboard on our wall has stopped, and I’m grateful for the silence; I can finally concentrate.

My brain aches from staring at all of the cramped words on the page. Laws are laws, but they vary greatly from state to state. I try to not let my stress show because I don’t want Heather to see me that way, and I don’t want a single thing to keep her from her lifelong dream. She’s got her first performance with this company in less than a week, and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t have the lead role already. Of course she does: she’s remarkable.

I never gave much thought to the dedication of a dancer before. When I attended the ballet with Mae, it was just a show, just a few hours out of my night. But fuck, Heather is such a dedicated performer; I’m constantly in awe of her. Dillen is pretty noteworthy as well, but she still has nothing on my girl. There’s something behind her smile when she dances, and I love watching her. She’s happiest onstage, and I know when I see that smile, she’s where she’s meant to be.

I know how disheartened she would have been if she stayed in the States. I must admit, I’m pretty damn pleased that she’s away from that prick in tights. I was damn close to knocking out his over-bleached teeth at the bar that night, and I’d do it again, but the lying pussy never came to London. But now we have to deal with Alexis, trading one problem for another.

She’s relentless, that girl. Heather hasn’t asked me any more questions about Alexis, and thank fuck. She’s trouble with a capital T. One thing I figured out while dating in college was how to identify the crazies. Alexis is a textbook narcissist with psychopathic tendencies. Keeping my distance from her is my main objective. I just wish Heather didn’t have her head filled with nonsense on a daily basis by the crazy bitch. I can tell every day when she comes home that Alexis has messed with her in some way. She won’t admit it to me, but I can see it. I’ve watched my girl, and I know when she’s hiding something.

I cannot concentrate tonight.

My thoughts drift from my studies to a few nights ago. I was beyond exhausted from reading the same book repeatedly. The words were on replay in my head. I got up to stretch and grab some ice water when I noticed that Heather wasn’t in her bed.

When did she leave the room?
I walked down the hall and into the kitchen when I noticed the TV flashing in the dark. Quietly, I made my way over to where Heather was curled up on the couch, half asleep, watching the . . .
Smithsonian Channel
? The volume was almost inaudible. As I rounded the couch, she looked up at me with tired eyes.

“Baby? What are you doing out here?” I asked as I crouched down beside her head, kissing her forehead gently. She looked so damn adorable when she replied, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“I couldn’t sleep; I was too cold.”

Smirking, I picked her up and carried her back to bed. She nuzzled against my chest and before I had her under the covers, she was out like a light. I guess I never gave any thought to how her sleep might be screwed up from my studying. She’s slept on my chest every night that we’ve been together—a habit that we’ve formed since the beginning.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear her rustling in the sheets behind me. I turn in my chair to look, and Heather is tossing in her sleep; she seems restless and I can’t stand it. I check the clock, and it reads almost two in the morning.
Damn.
I get up and strip down, turning the lamp off before climbing into bed. Almost instantly she stops moving when I curl my body around hers. I must radiate a shit-ton of heat because her body feels like an ice cube next to mine. Within a minute she’s breathing, deep and slow, and I feel her body finally relax.

Damn, I need to start going to bed sooner.

HEATHER

Coen has been in London for a few days now and I can tell Dillen is having a hard time walking, let alone dancing. I’m sitting on Noah’s lap, impatiently waiting for her to get her shoes on. “Dillen, we are going to be late, and this is our last practice before the show.”