Текст книги "Unsung"
Автор книги: Shannon Richard
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
He left his mug on the counter as he crossed back across the kitchen to put the pot back on the coffeemaker. Then he stopped by the fridge to grab the creamer, closing the door with his hip before he walked over to her.
“So,” he started to say as he poured the creamer into her coffee, “how much longer are you going to be in the city?” He’d been hard pressed to get certain facts out of her the night before. She’d pretty much stuck to her word on not telling him things that were too personal. But he had managed to get a few things out. Like that she wasn’t from Nashville.
She was in town visiting her aunt and he wanted to know how much time he was going to have before she left. How much time he had to win her over. How much time he had to break down all of her walls. He was by no means done spending time with this woman.
She looked up at him as she stirred her coffee, a great debate going on behind her eyes like she was deciding on whether to answer or not. “I leave on Monday,” she finally answered.
It was Saturday, so he had two days. He could work with two days.
He didn’t have any other choice.
“What are you doing tonight?”
Her hand stilled, the spoon no longer going around her cup in circles. “I don’t know.”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself there, Sparky? We haven’t even had breakfast yet and you already want to make plans for dinner?”
“Sparky?”
“You heard me,” she said as she brought her mug of coffee to her mouth and took a sip.
“Yeah I did, and I find it interesting that you’re calling me Sparky when you were the one trying to run out of here this morning like your pants were on fire.”
“Yeah, that is interesting, isn’t it?”
“Why were you running?”
Something flickered in her eyes…something that if he didn’t know any better he would guess was a flash of pain. But it was gone just as soon as it had appeared and she covered up her moment of weakness with a coy smile.
“That’s crossing over into the too personal territory.” She shook her head.
“Honey, I had my mouth between your thighs last night. I think we’re way past too personal.”
“Is that a fact?” she asked, raising her left eyebrow.
He hadn’t really met that many women who could do the one eyebrow lift thing, and every time she did it he found her infinitely sexier.
Something he didn’t even know was possible.
Apparently it was.
“Yeah, it is.” He put both of his palms on the counter and leaned forward, getting dangerously close to her mouth. Dangerously because the closer he got to her the more he wanted to forget about what he was cooking and just have her for breakfast.
She leaned forward, too, those lips of hers mere inches away. “I’m still not telling you,” she whispered.
God, he could do this with her all day and not get bored.
“Do you enjoy being this difficult?” he asked as he reached up and found a stray strand of hair that was too short to be pulled back into her bun. He curled it around his finger and tugged until her mouth was on his.
“Definitely,” she said against his lips. He kissed her for the second time that morning—not nearly enough by his standards—tasting the coffee on her tongue.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, letting the curl of her hair unravel from his finger. He moved his hand to her jaw, running his thumb across her cheek. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“Why don’t we see how breakfast goes first?”
“You lacking confidence in my cooking abilities?”
“Not as of yet, but if you keep standing over here your bacon might burn.”
“Don’t you worry about my bacon. It’s perfectly fine,” he said as he went in for another kiss. He might as well make the most of the moment and her readily accessible mouth. Which really wasn’t a shabby moment to be in at all.
* * *
Okay, so breakfast turned out to be something that bordered on legendary. Liam could cook cook. If he was able to whip that dish up without all that much preparation, Harper could only imagine what he would be capable of when it came to dinner.
Not that she’d agreed to have dinner with him as of yet. She was still deciding, had been all through their meal, and was still trying to figure it out as he drove her back to the Second Hand Guitar.
But she was filled with conflicting emotions.
Her brain kept screaming “run away.”
Her heart was staying silent, except for the fact that it started to pound harder when it came to anything that involved Liam.
And then there were her lady bits, as unreliable and unhelpful as ever. They were all for more time spent with Liam.
It was hard for her to resort back to her original plan of escape when he kept kissing her. The things he was capable of with his mouth just added to his fine string of talents. It was no wonder she couldn’t think straight. What she needed was a little space.
Yes, space.
Good thing they were now sitting in the close-confined cab of Liam’s truck. A beautiful blue and white 1971 Chevy.
“So where did you find a C-ten in impeccable condition?” she asked as she ran her hand over the tan vinyl seats.
He looked at her, his eyebrows raised high above his aviator sunglasses.
“What? I’m just as capable of appreciating a good car as the next person.”
“Apparently. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” He grinned at her before he turned back to the road.
“I thought you figured that out by now.”
“Oh, I think it would take me a lot longer than this to figure you out, honey.”
God. The way he said honey was sinful. How could a word be sinful? It was his voice, all deep and rich. Not too twangy, not too southern, but just right.
Oh great, apparently she was Goldilocks when it came to the timbre of a man’s voice. Or maybe it was just this man’s voice. It did funny things to her senses.
“You keep calling me that,” she said before she could stop herself.
“What?”
“Honey.”
“It’s appropriate, isn’t it? As you smell like it…and taste like it everywhere.”
Oh, look at that, she was thinking about last night’s activities again and imagining a repeat performance. “So, what about this truck?” she asked, unable to hide the small quaver in her voice.
“The truck belonged to my grandfather Freddy,” Liam answered, apparently taking pity on her and letting her change the subject. “He’s the reason it’s in the shape it’s in, the reason it still runs like a dream. He taught me how to drive in this bad boy. He passed away when I was seventeen and left it to me.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job with it.”
“Thanks.” He turned to her again and flashed her another smile before his eyes were back on the road as he made a right and pulled into the parking lot of the bar. “Which one is yours?” There were a handful of cars still parked in scattered spots.
“That one.” She pointed to the bright red FJ Cruiser.
“Well, aren’t you fancy?”
“Only on the weekends.” Actually the Cruiser had been a massive splurge for her. Her Explorer had crapped out a few years ago and she’d needed another SUV with decent space in the back.
Harper was a licensed massage therapist and split her time between LaBella—a high-end resort on Mirabelle beach—and Rejuvenate—a spa in the downtown area. She also did a few side jobs where she had to transport her own massage table. Then there were her homemade lotions and massage oils that she delivered to her local buyers.
So it had been all about the utility. Though she wasn’t going to lie, she sure did love the fact that it didn’t break down every other month and leave her stranded all over the county. Plus, she loved driving it. Which was why she’d decided to make this trek to Nashville a nine-hour road trip as opposed to flying.
Liam parked in front of it, putting his truck in gear before he turned fully to her, resting one of his arms on the back of the bench seat.
“So what’s it going to be, Harper? Do I get to see you again?” he asked as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head.
Well, wasn’t that the question of the morning? Harper had gotten another apologetic text from her aunt that morning. Celeste’s patient—both momma and baby—from the night before were having complications from the surgery. She was going to be on call for the next twenty-four hours.
So Harper could spend the evening that would’ve been her wedding drinking alone and wallowing…or with Liam who made her forget things.
Decisions, decisions.
“What time?”
The relief in his eyes was immediate, and his mouth split into the biggest grin she’d seen on his face since she’d met him.
“Seven o’clock. You going to remember how to get there?”
“Uhh, probably not.” She shook her head. “I’m much more of a learn-by-doing type.”
“Is that so?” he asked, his eyebrows rose up his forehead again, this time more than a little suggestively.
“I didn’t mean that in a dirty way.”
“Sure you didn’t.” He reached over and opened the glove box, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper. He straightened, moving his hand from behind her as he started to go through the pages that were covered in a wiry cursive.
When he got to a blank page he wrote the address and his phone number in the same handwriting she’d seen on the other pages of the notepad.
“Call me if you get lost.” He reached for her hand, placing the paper in her palm. And then he was leaning in, covering her mouth with his.
Yeah, she could forget for just a little bit longer.
Chapter Three A Million Simple Things That Aren’t So Simple at All
The gravel in the driveway crunched at five till seven. Liam stepped away from the kitchen island where he was cleaning up the remnants of his dinner making.
Rosemary and lemon gnocchi, from scratch.
Pan-seared pork chops.
And white chocolate raspberry bread pudding.
Yup, if his career in music failed he could just try his hand in the culinary world. His mother had taught him well when he was growing up, and it was something he’d always enjoyed doing. Since his time in a full functioning kitchen was limited these days, he tended to indulge whenever he could cook. And since Harper was coming over tonight he was pulling out all the stops.
Every last one of them.
He caught a glimpse of her red Cruiser through the windows before he opened the front door. She was making her way up the porch wearing a dark purple dress that hit her about mid-thigh. A bronze belt was buckled just under her chest, somehow making her breasts look bigger.
He didn’t even think that was possible.
Her matching bronze strappy heels clicked against the wood with every step that she took, but she faltered for just a second when she saw him.
“Hey.” Her hand tightened on the railing and she paused at the top of the stairs.
“You look stunning.” His eyes did another perusal of her body as he leaned against the open doorjamb.
“Thank you,” she said as she reached up with her free hand and brushed her long black hair back and behind her ear. “You don’t look half-bad yourself.”
As he was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, and a black V-neck with a green and white flannel shirt, he didn’t think the comparison was all that close.
She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but it was so much more than just looks with her. He wanted to know all of her, more than what he’d gotten last night. More than what he’d gotten that morning.
He didn’t quite understand it…didn’t even really know what to do with it…but he wanted everything. He also wasn’t sure what to do with the amount of relief that was coursing through him at seeing her again.
There was a part of him that really thought she wasn’t going to come, and now that he was looking at her he found that he needed to have her under his hands.
They both moved at the same time, Harper mounting the last step as Liam pushed off the door frame. He crossed to her in three long strides, and then he was leaning down, his hands going to her hips as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She was probably five-foot-seven or eight to his six-foot-one, but her four-inch heels narrowed the gap between them. She turned her head and looked at him for just a second before her hands landed on his chest and she stretched up the last remaining inch to put her lips on his. And just like that his arms were wrapping around her and he was pulling her fully into his body.
His mouth opened to hers and he finally had the taste of her on his tongue again. It had been seven hours since he’d seen her. Seven hours. And he’d missed her.
How was that even possible? Who was this woman and what had she done with his sanity?
Oh, who cared?
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Me too.”
He pulled back and looked into her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her eyes more than slightly dazed. He had no doubt his face was sporting a very similar look.
Yeah, he had no clue what was going on with this woman. But he sure as hell wanted to figure it out.
* * *
“Good Lord you can cook,” Harper said as she ran the last piece of gnocchi through the rosemary, lemon butter sauce before she popped it into her mouth.
Even watching her eat was sexy as hell.
“You cook?” he asked.
She shook her head and swallowed. “Not like this.” She waved her hand at the almost empty plate in front of her. She still had a bite of her pork chop left. “My mother is the culinary expert of the family. She spends hours in the kitchen.”
“Your father?” Well, if she’d opened a door into the personal he was definitely going to walk right on through it.
“Not so much. But I will say that he does contribute nicely to the cause with fresh fish.”
“Your father is a fisherman?”
“Among other things.” She smiled, forking the last bit of food and sticking it in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before she shook her head at Liam, leaning back in her chair. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to top breakfast, but you, my friend, have managed to exceed yourself.” She tossed her napkin onto the table next to her now empty plate.
Liam had no doubt about the fact that she’d enjoyed her dinner. The woman wasn’t shy about her reactions, and she’d made more than a few moans around her fork as she’d eaten. And they hadn’t even gotten to dessert yet.
“That so?” he asked as he grabbed his glass of wine and took a sip.
“That is so.” The corner of her mouth turned up into a half smile. “You know, you’ve already gotten me into bed. You didn’t need to work so hard to impress me to do it again.”
“My trying to impress you has nothing to do with wanting to get into your pants.”
“Well, that’s good. Because I’m not wearing any tonight.”
Liam laughed. “I picked up on that. You’re wearing that dress like you’re doing it a favor.”
“Is that another one of your pickup lines?”
“It might be. Did it work?”
“I don’t know yet.” She reached for her wineglass that was on the verge of needing a refill.
“You’ll keep me posted though?”
“Of course,” she said right before she polished off the last of the red liquid.
“You want another drink?”
“Sure.”
“Let me clean up and I’ll put something together. You want some more wine or something else?”
“Well, what are the options? Do you bartend as well as you cook?”
“Not really. My skills go about as far as opening a bottle of beer or wine,” he said as he indicated the now empty bottle in front of them. “Adding whiskey to ice, vodka to any juice of your choosing, or a gin and tonic.”
“Gin and tonic.”
“Coming right up.” He pushed his chair back and stood, reaching for his plate. Harper made the same motion, grabbing her plate before he could. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Helping.”
“I don’t think so.” He pulled the plate from her hand and motioned toward the living room with his chin. “Go make yourself comfortable. It’ll only take me a second to get the rest of this put away.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
She turned on those sexy-as-all-hell heels of hers and headed toward the couch. Liam took just a second to watch her walk away, appreciating everything about the rearview.
Harper looked over her shoulder, catching him in the act. “You get your fill or do you want me to do that again?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.
“Honey, I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill.” That was a fact, and the sooner he got rid of these dishes the sooner he’d get more. He somehow managed to pull his gaze from her and went into the kitchen, quickly loading everything in the dishwasher.
He made fast work with the gin and tonics and was joining Harper in the living room in less than five minutes.
“How’s this?” he asked, handing her a short tumbler as he took a seat next to her on the couch.
She took a sip and nodded. “Mmm, perfect. I haven’t had a gin and tonic in a while. They’re my dad’s specialty and you make a pretty mean one.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
She took another sip of her drink as she nodded to the guitar that was resting against the chair next to the sofa. “So you play, too, Mr. Music Lover?”
He’d apparently forgotten to put it away before she’d come over. A good portion of his afternoon had been spent working on a song that he couldn’t get out of his head.
The interesting part? Not only was it a ballad, it was a love song. Two things that he’d never written successfully before. Sure he had lust down pat. He’d written more than a few on that subject. But this song, well, it wasn’t about that.
It was completely and entirely different. Which wasn’t a bad thing at all.
The reason for his current stint in Nashville was finishing up his newest record. His label wanted one more song.
“Something they haven’t seen from you before,” his manager Gary Kirkland had told him about a thousand times.
And there it was, his sudden spark of inspiration wrapped up in a beautiful woman. But what could he say? The woman in question was very inspiring.
At least he’d had the sense of mind to close his notebook that was sitting on the coffee table. One look at the first verse would leave no doubt as to whom his newest song was about. If he ended up recording it she’d know it was about her. She’d have to.
“I dabble.” Apparently she wasn’t the only one still keeping things a secret. For whatever reason, he found that he wasn’t quite ready for her to know what he did for a living.
“You dabble?” she repeated. “And dabbling involves writing your own songs?”
His eyebrows rose in question.
“I saw that notebook in the truck.” She pointed to the coffee table. “And it’s filled with something that looks remarkably like songs.”
“Can’t get anything by you, can I?” He shook his head.
“Would you play something for me?”
“Sure.” He nodded as he leaned forward, setting his glass on the table before reaching for his guitar. He was coming to the very real conclusion that he’d do just about anything she asked.
He’d had half a dozen songs make it to the airwaves, and they were regularly played to where people who were fans of country knew of at least one. He wondered if Harper knew them. If she’d ever had her radio up loud, the windows down as she sang along.
Yeah he’d always hoped his songs were something to strike a chord with people, but there was something absolutely remarkable about the idea of his words coming across her lips. He wanted so desperately for his songs to mean something to her.
For the first time in a long time, he was nervous as he settled his guitar on his lap and placed his fingers over the correct strings. He took a deep breath before he strummed the first chord, humming to himself before he started with the chorus.
“A day, a week, a month, a year. It would never be enough. I want forever, honey. Forever with you.”
His head came up and he focused on her face. Her mouth had fallen open slightly and her eyes had gone wide.
“A million simple things that aren’t so simple at all. Your hand in mine. The taste of your tongue. Your head on my chest. You stealing my heart.”
A heart that was currently pounding out of his chest. This was ridiculous.
“A day, a week, a month, a year. It would never be enough. I want forever, honey. Forever with you.”
He sang the chorus one last time, discovering a new chord that he hadn’t known seconds before and knowing that he’d hit the nail on the head.
Harper’s eyes hadn’t left his, and when he finished she just sat there for a second in stunned silence before she spoke. “You wrote that?” The question was little more than a whisper on her breath.
“Yeah. It isn’t finished yet though,” he said as he set the guitar off to the side.
“That was…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know. Amazing doesn’t seem adequate.”
The look in her eyes and the awe in her voice were humbling…and Liam wasn’t humbled all that often. Not that he was a particularly arrogant man, but he did take pride in his passion.
“Thank you.”
Her breath came out in a huff as she shook her head again. “Apparently I’m not the only one full of surprises.”
“Apparently not.” He grabbed his gin and tonic from the coffee table before he leaned back on the sofa, moving closer to Harper in the process.
“That didn’t sound like dabbling. Why do I get the impression you’ve done that before?”
“Because I have. So now that I’ve shared that, it’s your turn.” He reached forward and fingered a piece of her hair, rubbing the silky strand between his thumb and forefinger. “Can I ask you a question or are you still sticking with this nothing personal thing?”
“Depends on the question.”
“Why are you in Nashville?”
She shook her head as she took another sip of her drink. “Nope. Not that question.”
“You enjoy doing this whole mysterious hot girl thing?”
“I wasn’t aware that was a thing.”
“Oh really? I’m not all that sure I believe you.”
Her head tilted to the side as her cheek brushed against his fingers. “You should believe I haven’t lied to you.”
“Okay, so if you won’t tell me that, tell me something else. Something no one else knows.”
“I’m intimidated by what your voice does to me.”
And now he was the one who was left speechless for just a moment. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t really know.” She reached up and lightly traced his lips with her index and middle finger, first the top, then the bottom.
Holy. Hell. He felt that simple touch everywhere, which was beyond complicated. But really, when was he going to learn? Nothing with her was simple.
“You speak and somehow make things easier.” She continued as she ran her fingers around his lips one more time.
“Things?”
“Yes. Things.” She nodded as she leaned into him, her mouth landing on his.
He brought his hand to the back of her head, his fingers spearing into her hair as he held her to him, devouring her mouth. Every taste of her was like heaven. The words to that song were so damn true. He’d never get enough of her. Not ever.
Yeah, he was a goner. Done for.
Harper was the first to pull back, and both of them were breathing hard. She tilted her glass to her mouth, finishing her drink. She stood up and nodded to the glass in his hand. “You should finish that, too. You’re going to need both hands in a second.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Liam followed her lead and drained the rest of his gin and tonic. She held out her hand for the glass, and when he handed it to her she turned and set both down on the coffee table.
And then she was facing him again, hiking up the bottom of her dress. He saw a flash of emerald green lace before she was crawling up onto his lap, straddling him. She braced her hands on his shoulders as she settled her lush ass on his thighs. And then she was shifting closer, pressing against his cock that was quickly making its way to full mast.
Her hands went to his chest where she slid them out, pushing his unbuttoned flannel shirt from his arms. He leaned forward, helping her remove the shirt from his body. The second his hands were free they went to her hips, sliding over the bunched-up fabric as he made his way down to her bare skin. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and looked up at her.
Her head was slightly turned and his eyes landed on the cluster of freckles just under her left ear. He had the sudden urge to lick them. Get them under his tongue. They probably tasted like honey, too, just like the rest of her.
He’d get to that later; at the moment he wanted to take in the rest of the woman currently balanced on his lap. The deep purple fabric of her dress made her violet eyes pop, her thick black lashes framing her almond eyes. Some of her hair had fallen forward over her right shoulder, a black curtain of silk.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked as he pushed his hands under the fabric of her dress, his fingers finding the lace he’d seen just seconds before.
Her hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest, tracing his muscles through the fabric. “We both already know what’s going to happen here? So there’s no need for the flattery, Liam.”
“I’m not feeding you more lines.” He shook his head, one of his hands moving up to her hip while the other traveled to the sweet spot between her thighs.
“You’re no longer just trying to pick up some girl at the bar?” Her mouth quirked to the side before it dropped open on a gasp, her eyes dilating as he pressed his thumb to her clit through the thin material.
“You aren’t some girl.” He was beginning to think she was the girl, and that thought wasn’t as scary as it normally should’ve been. Or maybe he was just too thoroughly distracted to focus on it.
Yeah, probably the second one. But really what else was he supposed to be focused on when she was currently bucking against him. Her hands went back to his shoulders, where she fisted the fabric of his T-shirt and held on tight.
“Is…is that so?”
“That is so.” He pulled the lace of her panties to the side, running his fingers across her folds before he slipped two inside of her.
“Oh God.” Her hips picked up speed as she sought more pressure.
He wanted to take her this way, but with his cock buried deep inside of her as opposed to his fingers. He wanted her naked, riding him hard as her tits bounced freely in his face.
But he really wasn’t of a mind to stop her from seeking her pleasure. No, he wanted to feel her body tighten around his fingers. Wanted to hear her moans. Wanted to watch her and appreciate everything about the moment when she completely and totally lost herself.
Because the fact of the matter was that once he was inside her, it was hard to focus on everything. Last night she’d blown his mind. He had no doubt it was going to be any different tonight.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. Every time she moved she rubbed against him, making him harder with each brush of her body.
The sweetest torture he’d ever experienced in his life.
But with each breathy moan and gasp that emanated from her mouth, his willpower to wait for her to finish took another hit. He fought every instinct to free his erection from his jeans and get inside her, but as the condoms were in the bedroom that was a no-go.
A change in location was imminent. He could wait for her to finish. He could do that. He could breathe past the clawing desperation for her. He just needed to focus, needed to get her there sooner.
“Come on, honey. Come for me,” he said as he worked her clit.
“I am. I am. Liam, don’t stop.” Her head fell back between her shoulders, her words going toward the ceiling.
“Not going to stop. But I need you to look at me.” He wanted to see it happen, wanted to watch her unravel. He hadn’t been able to last time, he’d had his face buried in her neck and had been focusing on not coming before she did. Though he wasn’t going to lie, that was still a bit of a concern at the moment.
Harper’s head fell forward and her eyes landed on his, dazed and maybe just a little bit lost. But seconds later she was found. Her body trembling as his name came across her lips and she let go. She fell into him, burying her face in his throat as she caught her breath.
He pulled his hand from her body, putting it on her hip. His other hand moved up, his palm going to the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair. “You okay?”
She groaned, the vibration tickling his skin. “I don’t know.” She pulled away slowly and looked at him, shaking her head. “I…you do something to me that I don’t quite understand.”
“Good or bad?” He trailed his fingers down through her hair, tracing her spine. Her entire body shivered.
“Good. Really good.” She pressed her lips to his, her hands now in his hair. Her nails raked his scalp as she rocked against him, trailing a path of kisses down his jaw and to his throat.
This time he was the one groaning. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“All right,” she said as she sat back on his thighs, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He leaned forward, helping her pull it from his body. He threw it to the side while her hands landed on his now bare chest. “Sit back.”
He did so immediately and she was sliding off his lap, pushing his legs apart as she settled herself on the floor, her knees resting on the thick cushioned rug beneath his feet. She grabbed the skirt of her dress and pulled it up and over her head, throwing it somewhere in the direction of his shirt.
She sat before him wearing a black bra with emerald green lace that matched her panties perfectly. “It’s your turn.”
And just like that the woman who was every single one of his fantasies come to life was currently kneeling in front of him wearing lace and the sexiest pair of shoes he’d ever seen in his life.
He had no doubt that whatever she was going to do to him was going to be glorious, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for a blow job. Because really, her mouth wrapped around his dick might just be the best thing. Ever.
A dream. He surely had to be dreaming.
He never wanted to wake up.
“My turn?” he somehow managed to get out of his throat that had suddenly gone very, very dry. He was now regretting his decision of finishing off his drink.
As if she’d read his mind she reached behind her for a glass, fishing out an ice cube that hadn’t yet melted. “Yup,” she said before she popped the ice into her mouth and stretched up. He leaned forward just enough to get to her lips. He tasted her tongue a second before the cube was in his mouth. And then she pulled back, fishing another one out of the glass and putting it in her mouth.
