Out of the Dark (2 page)

“They are going to be so sad tomorrow morning.” She had to push onto her tiptoes to shout this in Luke's ear, since the music was so much louder over here.

His hands rested naturally on her hips as he pulled her closer. His lips brushed her ear as he replied, “Poor them.”

Then, they danced.

Luke was an excellent dancer, not the line-dancing sort but with a natural rhythm that kept them both bopping to the beat in perfect time. He spun her out, then in. Her hands settled on his shoulders as they moved together, and Celia forgot about the ache in her toes and the soles of her feet. She never wanted to stop.

Of course, she had to. It wasn't even near closing time, but the other women in their party were stumbling drunk and Celia still hadn't managed to catch sight of Dana. That made her nervous, because even though Dana was a grown woman who should be able to take care of herself, Celia had volunteered to be the designated driver and she guessed that meant babysitter too.

“I have to use the restroom,” she told Luke as the song slowed a little and gave them a chance to breathe. “And find my cousin's friend. She's probably in there.”

Luke nodded but looked reluctant as he let her go. “Hurry back.”

Impulsively, Celia touched his cheek. “You're sweet.”

He groaned, clutching his heart. “Kiss of death!”

“No, no,” she laughed, shaking her head, “it's a good thing. Really.”

Luke caught her hand and kissed the knuckles, but let her go as she tugged away. She backed up to keep him in her sight as long as she could before turning with a giggle and a grin as she pushed through the swinging batwing doors into the corridor leading to the bathrooms. That was where she found Dana, headfirst in the toilet. Recoiling, her exuberance punctured like a balloon, Celia covered her mouth and nose and peeked into the stall again.

“Dana?”

Without lifting her head, Dana flung up a hand. Thumbs up. “'M'good!”

“You don't look good.”

“'M'okay!”

A tall, broad-shouldered gal in a denim skirt and a black Harley-Davidson tank top came out of the other stall to flash a grin at Celia. “She's okay. She's been in there for about an hour. Let her get it out of her system, she will eventually.” The woman washed her hands at the sink and gave Celia a look from the mirror's reflection. “Can't hold her liquor, huh?”

“Apparently not,” Celia said, then added like an excuse, “bachelorette party.”

“Yours?”

“Oh, hell no. I'll never do that again.” It came out more vehement than she'd intended, but the woman just nodded knowingly.

“I hear you, honey. I went through it three times before I learned my lesson.”

“Once was enough for me.” Celia looked dubiously into the stall. Now Dana was cradling her cheek on her palm, right there on the toilet seat. Eyes closed. A strangely blissful smile on her face. “Um…”

“She'll be okay. Get her home, try to get her to drink some water. She'll be hurting tomorrow though. She's not the one getting married tomorrow, is she?”

“No, it's my cousin Lisa's party. And the wedding's not until next week.” Thank God, Celia thought as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Eyes bright, face flushed, hair wild. If the wedding had been a few hours from now, all of them would've been hurting.

“Need me to call you a cab?” The woman turned from the sink and studied Dana.

“You can get a cab out here?”

The woman grinned. “Sure. Depends on how far you have to go, but sure.”

The plan had been for Celia to drive everyone home to Lisa's house in Palmyra, about thirty minutes away, but as tempting as it was to toss Dana in a cab to let a stranger deal with the possibility of puke in his backseat, she couldn't do that. “I haven't been drinking. I'll drive her home.”

“Good luck, hon.” The woman winked and left the bathroom.

Celia leaned in. “Dana, I'll be right back. I'm going to find Lisa and get out of here, okay?”

No answer but a soft snore. If Celia had been the sort to snap a picture with her camera phone and upload it to one of those embarrassing photo blogs, this would've been the perfect shot. Instead, she sighed and headed back into the bar to round up the other bachelorettes. No easy task, she discovered, when Lisa decided she wasn't ready to go home until everyone danced with her to the Cha-Cha Slide. Twice.

Everyone but Celia, who'd only do that sort of dance at the point of a knife, which is what it felt like someone was doing to her toes. Screw it. She didn't trust her bare feet to the bar floor, but she could grab a pair of her sneakers from her trunk and put them on. It was that time of night, anyway.

“You're not leaving are you?” Luke caught up to her at the front door.

“Soon. I'm going to get something from my car.” She tipped her chin toward the parking lot. “Wanna come with me? I hear the gravel's really special.”

“Rock jokes,” Luke said as he followed her. “Nice.”

They reached the car in moments. This was a different kind of dance. Celia turned, meaning to make another joke, and found herself backed up on chilly metal that felt good on her hot skin. Her ass rested against the hood, Luke already between her thighs as she pulled him closer by the belt buckle and offered him her mouth. It happened as naturally as his hands had earlier fallen to her hips, as skillfully as he'd turned her on the dance floor. His tongue stroked hers and sent shivers of pleasure trickling through her like water through stones.

The kiss softened. Ended. He rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closed, and Celia noticed one of his hands had cupped the back of her head, the other her hip. She'd hooked her heel over the back of his thigh. All in the space of just over a minute, not quite two.

“Hey.” Luke looked at her.

“Hey,” she said. “You're a good kisser.”

“Oh, I can do much better than that,” Luke said and proceeded to show her.

It went deeper this time. A little harder, but not too much. It was what Celia'd always thought of as a starburst kiss, one explosion after another. This time she gasped a little when he pulled away, and she had to blink rapidly to unblur her vision.

“You sure can,” she said. “Wow.”

“Geologists really know how to rock.”

“Oh, bad. Bad, bad joke.” She groaned, letting her head fall back against his hand. Above her, the night sky was deep and dark and alight with stars. Luke shifted between her thighs and his belt buckle pressed against her, far too delicious and tempting to ignore. “Where are you staying?”

“Motel down the road.” He leaned in as though to kiss her but kept his mouth a scant breath from hers.

“Damn it. I have to take my cousin and her friends home. I have to go,” Celia said with true regret but also a little relief. She had an excuse for not giving in to the horny devil on her shoulder.

“Don't go just yet.” He kissed her again, slower this time.

The hand on her hip squeezed gently, slid a little higher. He rocked her against him, just enough to make her want to wiggle and press herself against his belt buckle just a little harder, and she kept herself from doing just that by the barest grasp on her self-control. Luke was a great dancer and a great kisser, and Celia hadn't had anything this sweet between her legs in a long, long time. What better way to water her dry spell than with a handsome, sexy stranger who would be gone in the morning?

“Luke. I have to go.” Her voice rasped, rough and raw with the rush of desire she hadn't felt in months. How long had it been since she'd even let a man turn her head? Too long. Her hands slid up the front of his chest to toy with those too-damned-sexy snaps.

His mouth breezed along her jaw to her chin. His teeth nipped softly, just the right amount of pressure. His breath, hot in her ear, sent more shivers trembling through her, peaked her nipples, pulsed her clit. Her thighs opened wider, the soft fabric of her dress shifting against her bare legs as he pressed harder against her. The hand on her hip slid down, beneath her ass, to lift her the few inches onto her hood. She clung to him with another gasp at how easily he lifted her even that short distance, at how their tongues tangled and teeth clashed.

Breathing hard, she broke the kiss. “How long will you be in town?”

He licked his lower lip. “Not long enough. We go in tomorrow, take some samples. In and out fast, so we can get them back to the lab and see what's there before anyone else does.”

“Where do you live?” It was against hope that he'd say Harrisburg, a forty- minute drive from her house. Or Philadelphia, just over an hour.

“Pittsburgh,” he said.

“Shit,” Celia muttered. Four hours away. A little long to drive for a coffee date.

The front doors banged open, spilling light into the parking lot, then a gaggle of bachelorettes followed. Dana was with them too, at least there was that. Lisa cupped a hand to her mouth.

“Wooooo hoooo! Celia! Cuz! Where you at?”

“I guess you have to go.” Luke kissed her again before pulling back to help her get off the hood.

Celia shook the folds of her dress around her thighs and used her pinky to wipe the corners of her mouth. Her thumb pressed the pad of her lower lip, kiss-swollen and wet. She could still taste him.

“Maybe…you'll be back?” she asked hopefully, but before Luke could answer Lisa had spotted them and was stumbling across the gravel toward them.

“Cuz! Celia! What are you doing?” Behind her, Melody and Brit were helping a staggering Dana, who tripped and dragged them down with her. The three of them went to their knees in the gravel.

“Ouch,” Luke observed. “That will sting. Let me help you get them in the car, anyway.”

Her stomach muscles had gone tight with anticipation while they were kissing, but now everything in her sagged, disappointed at being denied such a sweet treat. “Thanks.”

When she dug in her bag for her keys to use her remote to unlock the doors, Celia noticed how much lower the front of her car had settled compared to the back. She took a step back, then another, barely registering that she'd pushed against Luke. The right front tire was completely flat.

“Shit!”

“What? It's time to go, Celia. Seely, seely, seal. Ceila. Oh, hi, it's a cowboy.” Lisa blinked up at Luke, who put out a hand to steady her. “My Denny is not a cowboy. He's an accountant!”

“He's not a cowboy either.” With a scowl, Celia kicked the tire. “He's a geologist.”

Luke threw up rock horns with both hands. “Rock on.”

Lisa didn't get it, of course, but Celia bit back laughter. “I'm flat.”

“What? No, no, no.” Lisa shook her head. The other women were on their feet again. Barely. “You're not flat, baby, you're like Dolly Partons! Get it? Partons, because she has two—“

“Do you have Triple-A?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.” Celia sighed. “But that doesn't do me any good getting these lushes home.”

“Call Denny!” Lisa waved her cell phone at Celia. “He'll come get us! He will! Because he loooooooves me!”

Denny, as it turned out, was more than happy to come get his drunk-off-her-ass fiancée and her friends, because he was just that kind of guy. Celia had always liked Denny, even if she'd found him a little too…accommodating…for her tastes. Not that she was the one marrying him, and besides, look what falling for a bad boy had done for her in the past. Nothing but a set of divorce papers and a brand-new mortgage. Now though, she adored Denny for no other reason than he showed up in twenty minutes with a van big enough to cart everyone home—including her, if she needed a ride.

“I'll drive you home,” Luke said quietly. He'd shaken Denny's hand but said little beyond that while they herded Lisa and her friends into the van. Now he looked at Celia with some of that earlier heat. “If you want.”

“Sure. That would be great.” She kept her voice light and steady without the tremble of desire to give her away.

Denny looked doubtful. “You sure?”

“I'm sure. I'm fine. I'll get my mom to run me out here tomorrow. No problem.” She fixed him with a bright grin that seemed to satisfy him.

Then she let Luke drive her home.

And she invited him in.

Two steps inside the front door, she had her mouth on his, pushing him against the wall so hard the pictures rattled in their frames. His hand again cupped the back of her head. The other went between her legs. Celia moaned into his mouth, her nerves on fire from that touch. From everything, all of it. The months of nothing, the years before that of her failing marriage.

But most of all, the past few hours she'd spent with Luke.

His hand twisted, palm pressing her as his thumb settled unerringly against the front of her cotton panties. His tongue slipped slowly into her mouth as his thumb pressed her clit and the hand that had been cupping her head moved down to grab her ass. Celia broke the kiss so she could get a breath.

“Luke—“ That was all she could manage. She wasn't even sure what she'd meant to say, whether that simple, single syllable had been meant as plea or command or prayer.

His gaze didn't waver from hers. His thumb pressed, released. Pressed again. Her knees were going weak with the pleasure seeping from that tiny motion into every nerve.

“I want you,” Celia said.

“Good.” He took his hand from between her legs to lift and turn her at the same time.

This time, he pinned her to the wall. She hooked her ankles behind him, his belt buckle taking the place of his thumb, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He kissed her again, her mouth already open for him. Something jabbed at the base of her spine—the light switch, she thought when the overhead hall light went out, then on again. Celia wriggled against him, the kiss going on and on even as he pushed back from the wall still holding her so tight she didn't worry about falling.