Head over Heels: A Single Dad Romance(6)

"My favorite," I quipped. Maybe things were looking up after all.

Michael was about to boost me up into the driver's seat when I took the opportunity to slip my hands over his shoulders until my fingers brushed against the nape of his neck. He moved in closer and looked like he was debating his next move. With a low growl, he leaned forward until our lips were so close that we shared the same breath, I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.

"Yoo hoo! Michael! I live at 312 Maplegate Lane," Mimi called out, "Do you know where that is or do you need directions?"

Breaking apart, we shared a rueful smile before I scooted over into the spare seat. When he climbed into the cab, I felt his thigh brush against mine and savored the warmth.

"I don't need directions," he said to my friend, "but at least I'll enjoy the company," he added more softly so only I could hear.

The powerful hum of the engine was no match for Mimi's latest rendition of, "Do you think I'm sexy," and as we drove down a number of winding streets, we jostled about in the cab. True to his word, it was a tight fit, and I took advantage of the opportunity to get closer to him. With his thigh pressed up against mine, my fingers accidentally brushed against his leg for support and relished his deep chuckle as I did. On one particularly sharp curve, my hand slipped between his thighs and his low growl convinced me to leave it there.

"Hey," Mimi called out in dismay, "You just passed my house!"

With a resigned chuckle, Michael slowed down and threw the truck in reverse. As he turned to look out the back window, his slight movement forced my hand even deeper between his legs and he groaned with anticipated pleasure. In another time and place, I would have kept my hand there and maybe pushed it further, but all things considered, I reluctantly removed my hand from its cozy resting place. Michael's frustration was palpable when he stopped the car in front of Mimi's house and jumped out to help as she fumbled with the safety lock.

"I don't understand why I can't open this-" Mimi yelped when she finally managed to open the door, and for the second time that night, Michael was there to catch her before she fell. As I watched Michael take care of my friend, a pang of jealousy hit me hard. I slid out of the cab and was just about to take Mimi's arm when the door to her brownstone flew open and a huge bear of a man stepped out.

"Meems! What happened," the man bellowed from the top step.

"Derek! Hey, look, guys, it's my little baby brother," Mimi shouted with pure adoration. While she wobbled delicately against Michael, Derek bounded down the stairs. Slapping her human crutch lightly on the chest, Mimi asked, "Hey Mikey, isn't he just the cutest?"

"Yeah, he's adorable," he responded sardonically.

"Hey man," Derek looked at his sister wrapped around Michael and then over at me.

"Sorry Derek," I called out apologetically as I moved closer to Michael and put my hand on his bicep, "I'm afraid I was a bad influence on Mimi tonight. Michael was nice enough to drive us home."

With a quick nod, Derek swooped up his little sister and tossed her over his shoulder with ease. "I've got her from here dude, but thanks for driving her home. Gotta love a double D!"

Derek turned and headed for the stairs when Mimi lifted her head and giggled, "that's a designated driver, not your cup size."

"Thanks," Michael chuckled, "that's good to know."

"Alright lushy," her brother announced with glee, "I've been waiting for something to hold over your head for years! But for now it's time to drown you in aspirin and water, and put you to bed."

We watched as the two disappeared into the building, and then I turned and focused all my attention on my designated driver. I smiled and waited to see where this was going. Michael cocked his head to the side and regarded me curiously.

After a moment, he suddenly broke the silence, "so, are you going inside?"

I shook off the disappointment in that comment and finally took my opportunity. With a wicked gleam in my eye, I started to walk towards him, "how about you take me home and do nasty things to me instead."

"Nasty?" His voice was deep as he regarded me, and as he reached forward, I shivered slightly.

"Well, not bad nasty… good nasty…" As my words hung in the air, I placed my hand on his chest and slowly moved them down to the waistband of his jeans. Dipping my fingers inside I pulled him closer.

Abruptly pulling away, he looked around the empty street and I wondered if I had pushed my luck too far. But satisfying himself that were no late-night voyeurs watching us from the shadows - or worse, waiting to interrupt us - Michael quickly gathered me up in his arms and dipped his head towards mine.

"I live a couple of minutes from here," he whispered before capturing my lips with feather light kisses. The lightness of his touch left me yearning for more, and the way his tongue danced across my lower lip made my knees buckle.

He gripped me tighter and deepened his kiss, and I felt a heady rush that had nothing to do with my earlier intake of alcohol. When he finally broke contact, I all but whimpered for his return. "If you're serious," he chuckled and lightly nipped at my bottom lip, "I know all kinds of nasty things I would love to do to you."

The trip to his home took no time at all.