Wicked Burn(38)

He brushed his grin along the skin of her neck, making her shiver. “Maybe not, but I’m beginning to think you might have been put here for the express purpose of making me hotter than hell.”

Niall twisted around abruptly at the tone of his voice. His dark hair was adorably mussed. His light eyes sparkled with amusement. He looked younger than usual, less intense . . . wonderful.

Wonderful? Niall turned around and forced her body to relax along his length despite the tension that had just leapt into her muscles. She stared at the newly painted ceiling but saw nothing.

When she’d had that seemingly random thought just now, she hadn’t meant it in the everyday sense of the word. Not like I’m having a wonderful day today or The weather’s been wonderful, let’s go for a stroll. No, she’d meant it in the truest sense of the word—awesome, marvelous . . . astonishing.

Anxiety warred with amazement for her full attention. She’d never had this reaction to a man before, not even in the full, flush excitement of meeting and dating Stephen.

She blinked and forced her dazed vision to clear. Did a woman who carried so much emotional baggage really have the right to be harboring such feelings?

Or worse . . . what if it was because of her emotional and psychological stress that she was having such a powerful reaction to Vic in the first place? That was certainly possible, wasn’t it? Being with Vic might be the equivalent of a drinking or gambling compulsion . . . a shot of adrenaline and euphoria to an otherwise lifeless existence.

The charging train of her anxiety was derailed by the sensation of Vic hugging her more tightly to him with his encircling arms at the same time that he wrapped her up with his long legs until she was encapsulated in a divine cocoon of male muscle and vibrant heat.

“You’re so little.”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his rumbling voice vibrating into her neck. “I’m five foot four.” She’d meant to sound defiant, but was too sexually sated and mentally confused to sound anything but dazed.

The smug sound in his throat made Niall think she’d just confirmed what he’d said.

“That’s average for a woman,” she insisted petulantly.

“Ummm.”

That was all. Nothing else.

“I can’t wait to see one of your plays,” she informed the ceiling.

“Why’s that?”

“Most actors talk on the stage, don’t they? With you as their creator, I’m wondering what your characters are going to do up there. Emote with stares?”

For a few seconds she’d thought she’d offended him. Then he hugged her even tighter in his warm, safe embrace. “You forgot method grunting.”

Laughter erupted from her throat. “Right. Brando would have been the perfect actor for one of your plays.”

“You’re right. He would have.”

She continued to laugh, knowing that he shared in her mirth even though she couldn’t hear or see it.

“Are you going to stand me up again if I ask you to opening night?” he asked, making her laughter quiet and then still.

“I thought not even your mother could stand to be around you on opening night.”

“She can’t,” he said absentmindedly as he ran a hand along her flank, making her skin pebble. “But she never misses an opening anyway. She loves the champagne. She usually talks about the spread at the buffet for the opening night party until even the worst gossips at the Avery Bingo Club duck around the corner when they see her coming.”

Niall chuckled. She felt like her body melted like candle wax into his heat. “She still lives in Avery?”

“Yep.”

“What about your father?”

“Wouldn’t know. He took off when I was four.”

He must have sensed her unnatural stillness.

“It’s hard to miss what you never really knew. My mom always had more than enough energy to be both mother and father to Meg and me. She took it pretty hard when my dad ran off. Meg and I went to stay with my uncle on the farm here in Illinois for a while. But she got over it and ended up being sassier than ever.”

“Don’t you wish she lived closer?”

He sighed, making Niall’s body rise and fall with his own. “Both Meg and I have tried to convince her to move closer to us, but she’s got all of her clubs and her friends in Avery. She’s too busy and too ornery to be thinking about moving in with one of her kids.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Niall said as she smiled at the ceiling. She liked the sound of Vic’s mother.

“My sister, Meg, will be here for opening night, too.”

Niall moaned in appreciation when Vic ran the hand that had been tracing her sensitive side up over a thrusting breast. Her thighs pressed tightly together when he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then soothed her with his rough fingertips. “The three of us together should be able to survive your opening night wrath, don’t you think?” she asked breathlessly.

“The three of you together could probably survive the apocalypse,” he commented dryly. “Niall?”

“Yes?” she asked, her voice sounding husky with rising sexual tension when she felt him stir and harden against her sensitive flesh.

“Turn around. I don’t think the house christening is finished quite yet.”