"You haven't told me your name," he said.
"Leona Larkin."
"Leo," Shane said.
"Yep. Leo. I haven't gone by Leona since I was five. I always thought it sounded like a grandma's name."
Shane chuckled. "Yeah, it kind of does. Leo." He looked down at me as the elevator opened. "Like a lioness. Are you a lioness, Leo?"
Now that was an unmistakable flirt, if I ever heard one. I still wasn't quite sure why a man like this would flirt with me, plain-Jane me with my now-frizz bomb hair.
I summoned my courage and flirted back. "You never know. I just might be. Better watch out, Shane Sorrenson."
We stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed, leaving us alone in the ascending car. Shane turned to me, growling like the lion he was calling me. He grabbed my arms in his thick, callused hands, pushed me against the back of the elevator and pressed his hard body against me. He had an erection through his jeans, and it was a hard bulge against my belly. I gasped, suddenly trapped between the man and the elevator wall.
He kissed me. I expected it when his eyes went hooded and he moved towards me like a predator slinking through the grass. I wasn't expecting it to be soft, sensual, and slow. He claimed my mouth with his, not hesitant but giving me a chance to push him away. His lips were moving on mine, and his tongue was searching for mine, and I couldn't have stopped kissing him for anything.
My knees buckled and I was suddenly wet between my legs, a dampness that had nothing to do with the rain or my sopping dress. He sensed the trembling in my knees and scooped me up in his arms, holding me easily, not breaking the kiss for even a moment.
"Put me down," I whispered into his mouth. "I'm too heavy. You'll hurt your back."
He just snorted, an amused breath of air from his nose, smiling against my lips. He didn't answer, just carried me out of the elevator and down a long hallway toward a door at the end. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on, giggling. I'd never in my life been carried like this. I kissed his jaw, suddenly daring, and then his neck where his T-shirt touched his neck, and then his chin. He dipped his mouth down to cover mine and I was lost in his arm and his kiss.
He set me down, dug in the pocket of his jacket for a set of keys. He opened the door, kicked it open and picked me up again. He carried me into the condo, and I caught glimpses of white walls with tasteful paintings, a leather couch and loveseat, a huge TV on the wall, a fireplace, and then I was being laid down on a feathersoft bed, his weight on me, his lips on mine, on my throat and down between my br**sts.
I had a moment of shock at my own behavior, but then I pushed it away. I liked this man. I liked kissing him. I liked the fact that he was dangerous and a complete stranger. I'd never slept with anyone but John, and I'd certainly never done anything like this. I felt wanton and sensual and reckless and I loved it.
I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed him with all I had, and I felt his erection bulging against his jeans and into my belly. I felt a crazy impulse to unzip his jeans and touch him.
I hesitated, still kissing him, and then moved my hand between us. He lifted up to give me access.
And then I sneezed. Of course, I never sneeze just once; it's always at least three. This time, it was four, convulsion after convulsion, and I barely managed to turn my head aside so I didn't sneeze in his face. And then I started coughing and shivering. I wanted him, though, I wanted to carry through with my licentious compulsion to touch his penis.
Shane cursed fluently and got off me. "God, I'm such a dick," he said, "You've probably got pneumonia and here I am groping you."
He scooped me up again, lifting me up with effortless grace and taking me to the en suite bathroom. Compared to the one in my condo, this was a palace, all shiny marble and stainless steel. He set me on the bathtub and started the shower.
I watched him, hungry for him. He was in a soaked T-shirt, plain black fabric stretched across a torso that was totally, ridiculously, absurdly muscular. His jeans were tight around his ass, and he was still erect against his zipper. I told myself I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't be doing this with a man I knew nothing about.
But why not? Why shouldn't I do this? There was nothing holding me back, was there? A little niggling thought hit me, reminding me of my late monthly visitor, but I pushed it away, telling myself it was just stress making me late.
I stood up and unzipped my dress, waiting for him to turn around from adjusting the water temperature. He saw me standing, the dress hanging off my shoulders, and his eyes widened. I pulled one arm out of the strap, and then the other, and the filmy green dress fell to the floor, leaving me standing cold and clad in only matching red lace bra and panties and a serious case of goosebumps.