Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(45)
“Oh, wow, I bet you’re great at that,” she said. “I can’t wait to be, like, the coolest aunt ever. I definitely want kids of my own someday.” There were so many around right now, squealing over the fish and various aquatic life, it was hard not to get caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.
Mike put an arm around her shoulders, his fingers warm on her bare skin. She slid hers around his waist. They fit together so perfectly. Outside, the amusement park had carnival-themed games and rides—not the least of which was the towering Ferris wheel they’d observed from the restaurant. She couldn’t wait to get on. There was also a drop tower ride and a merry-go-round . . . but she figured she shouldn’t press her luck. Mike won her a teddy bear at one of the games; Savannah promptly named him Oscar.
“Why Oscar?”
“I don’t know. It’s a thing. I name everything Oscar. Dogs, cats, fish. If it gets confusing then I just add a suffix. He can be Oscar the Ninth. Fear my originality, Mike.”
“Oh, I do. You gonna do the same thing with your kids?”
“Maybe,” she said with mock defensiveness, hugging Oscar to her chest. “Even the girls.”
“Like George Foreman.” Chuckling, Mike pulled her closer as they waited in line for an empty car on the Ferris wheel. She gazed up at it, feeling so light and carefree. It was a good feeling. She couldn’t wait to be up there with the wind in her hair with the cityscape all around them.
And then it was their turn, and they slipped into the dangling circular car and snuggled together as it took them higher and higher into the sky. A busy freeway was their view on one side, but on the other was the Aquarium with its palm trees, and even farther, a panorama of the city. She was able to watch the blue and white–striped sky drop as it rose slowly and released its riders for a quick descent that had the kids squealing in delight.
At the top of the wheel, Mike kissed her. She’d been so hoping he would, and she’d been hoping it would be exactly as it was: gentle, thorough, sensual enough to make her legs tremble with need. Oscar, stuck between their bodies, nearly had the stuffing squeezed out of him.
“Oh, no! Aw, Oscar!” she cried once she realized, snatching him up and comically inspecting him for injury.
“Is he okay?” Mike asked. “Do I need to return him? Jesus, what kind of a mother are you?”
“I know, right? Maybe I shouldn’t have kids after all. Sorry, Oscar.”
He grinned and pulled her back to her original position, cuddling against his side, Oscar hugged to her as the ground slowly rose to meet them again. “I think you’ll be all right, Savannah.”
Smiling, she turned her face into his solid chest, thinking that if she could sleep right here, just like this, all night, that would be fine with her. “I think you’re right.”
His loft was as breathtaking as everything else about him, a sprawling expanse of brick, hardwood floors, exposed ductwork, and the fantastic view she had expected through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Like his beach house, the contemporary decor was minimal but effective, a few large art pieces and rugs with steel-gray furniture and blue accents, and she had to grin at the framed Bruce Lee Enter the Dragon posters on his living room wall. A metal spiral staircase went up to a second level, where he told her he’d set up a small home gym. The entire thing was simply mouthwateringly masculine, the very definition of a bachelor pad, but it fit him perfectly.
“Wow. When you say ‘apartment,’ you don’t mean what I mean when I say ‘apartment.’”
Chuckling, he moved toward the kitchen, hanging his keys on a hook along the way to the stainless steel refrigerator. She situated Oscar the Ninth on the bar next to her clutch. “Need anything? A drink? I’m more well stocked here than at the beach, promise.”
“No thanks, I’m fine.” She walked over to the bank of windows, gazing up at the skyscrapers and high-rises beyond. “How long have you lived here?”
“About five years.”
“Um, do you mind me asking how old you are? I honestly don’t know.” Another detail she couldn’t remember from his stats.
“Thirty-two.”
Five years older than her. Tommy had been twenty-nine and already joking about getting old. He’d figured he had a good five to seven years left before he began to decline, and at that point, he’d insisted, he would bow out. With that kind of deadline looming, he’d pushed himself hard. Even if Mike didn’t want to retire just yet, she wondered if he was going to be much longer for the MMA world. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to take much more punishment.
Then again, from all she knew, the man was a machine, and some of the fighters kept going well into their forties and beyond.
He strolled casually over to join her, bringing a heavy glass with a scant amount of dark amber liquid in it. There was such a predatory element in the way he looked at her as he approached that her panties threatened to combust. She let her gaze slide down his body and knew precisely at that moment what she wanted to do to him. Something she’d never gotten around to last night.
“Will you do something for me?” she asked, letting an impish smile curve her lips.
Without taking his eyes from hers for a second, he threw back what was in his glass. Savannah watched his throat muscles work as he swallowed, licking her lips in anticipation. “Anything,” he said gruffly, the burn of the liquor evident in his voice. Unable to resist getting a taste for herself, she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down to sample the flavor and heady scent that went straight to her head and lit up all her pleasure centers.