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Nancy had shifted on the seat, rising onto her knees and leaning out toward me, into the rain. I cupped her face, and she clutched my forearms—her hands chilly and cool, but full of frantic energy as she offered herself up to be kissed.
Her slim torso was fully outside the window now, getting soaked in the shower of rain that neither of us seemed to notice. All I could feel was her strong, trembling body. All I could taste was her lips. Then I realized it. Whoa, her whole torso was outside the limit I’d established. She realized it, too. Awareness shimmered in the air between us.
I rested my forehead against hers, curling my fingers into the collar of her shirt. “A whole lot more of you is outside the window now,” I stated, just to keep things clear.
She swallowed a few times. “Um. Yes. I am aware of that.”
“So you’re good if I do…this?” I unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.
She leaned forward, and the sapphire pendant swung free, glittering and swaying. She laughed softly under her breath. “I’m good,” she whispered. “I’m more than good.”
“Great.” My heart raced so fast, I felt giddy. “Then it won’t be that much of a stretch to do this.” I plucked the second button loose. “And this.” I undid the third. “And finally, this.” I popped open the last one.
Her shirt was open now, showing a long stripe of bare, pale, shadowy skin beneath. I slid my hands inside, into that damp warmth beneath to rain-dampened cloth, and pushed the shirt open, and off her shoulders. It clung to her upper arms.
Oh God, she was beautiful. Like a naiad rising from the lake, hair slicked back, water-beaded skin, fathomless eyes. And those breasts—small, high and firm—with deep crimson, puckered nipples, tight and stiff at the cold kiss of rain. Flushed, gleaming red lips, moistened by her pink tongue. Yielding to my kiss.
She clutched my shoulders as I kissed my way reverently down her skin. She was trembling, but not with tension. Like a lake ruffled by currents, by the wind. She wound her fingers through my hair as I worshiped those perfect breasts with my hands, my lips, my tongue. Kissing, licking, suckling, coaxing. The tension pulled tight inside me. I was going to shatter…but she broke first.
Her fingers dug in as she cried out. I felt her climax throb through her and echo through me. So intense, I nearly came in my jeans, right then and there.
I pressed my face against her perfect breasts, panting. Sobered by the hugeness of what had just happened. If this was how I felt just kissing and caressing her, parked outside, in the pouring rain, in a driveway, with a car door between us—well, damn.
Getting her naked in my bed might just stop my heart.
I slowly kissed my way back up, straightening up, resting my forehead against hers again. My eyes gazing into hers. Speechless with wonder.
Then I heard the angry buzz of her phone in her purse.
It could have been ringing for ten minutes, for all I knew. I didn’t want for either of us to leave our magic bubble, but the sound’s insistent buzzing was a grappling hook that Nancy couldn’t hope to resist. I felt tension grip her, and then I felt it drag her away from me.
I begged her, in my mind. Turn it off. Don’t go. Stay right here. Stay with me.
She pulled away, crawling back into the cab of the truck, groping for her purse. “Hello?” She listened to a loud burst of talking on the other side, and her eyes flicked up to me. “Just a sec, Eugene. Um, Liam? This is going to take a few minutes. You might as well get back into the truck, out of the rain.”
Yes, the moment was over. Fuck. I stood there, fists clenched, fighting unreasonable anger, but she didn’t notice. She was focused elsewhere. All business now.
I got into the truck, feeling dismissed. What a chump asshole. Winding myself up into a state. Convincing myself that we were on the verge of something important.
But not more important than a fucking phone call.
Chapter Ten
Nancy
“Thank God you picked up. We’ve got a disaster on our hands!” Eugene was the fiddler from Mandrake, my Afro-Celt fusion band. I avoided looking at Liam as he got back into the truck. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s Dennis! He’s deserting! The traitor!”
“Calm down. Let’s take this step by step.”
“He just got a gig with a touring show of Celtic Dreamsong! He’s blowing us off! A week before the tour! The gigs in Boston, Albany and Atlanta all specified Uilleann pipes in the contract! We can’t show up without a piper!” Eugene’s voice cracked.
“Calm down,” I said again. “This is bad, but we’ll fix it.”
“How, Nance? Every decent piper we know is booked solid those weeks! I’ve already made seven phone calls! We’re completely screwed!”
“We’ll fix it!” I insisted. “I’ll be back tonight. When I get home, I’ll call you and we’ll work something out. Don’t panic.”