The Piano Man Project Page 0,24

going jelly-kneed on him again.

‘I tried pretty hard,’ she said. ‘This skirt’s a twelve, and in a perfect world I’m a thirteen.’

She swayed a little on her feet, and for no reason other than her wine-emboldened hands insisted, she reached out and for the second time in her life, touched his jaw.

He let her, and then stepped closer and let her lift his hand and lay it against her cheek too.

If Deano had stripped her naked and screwed her on the sticky carpet of The Cock Inn he couldn’t have possibly fired off more sparks of sexual awareness than the simple touch of Hal’s palm against her face. Honey felt it right down to her bones.

‘A thirteen, huh? I didn’t know they did that size,’ he murmured, and she could feel his smile in her hand. It was a rarity, and all the more special for it.

‘They don’t, but I wish they did,’ she said, laying her other hand flat over the steady thud of his heart. She had no clue what she was doing. Instinct and chardonnay-lowered inhibitions were in charge of the situation, and she was close enough to Hal to know that whisky was involved in the equation too. He wasn’t drunk, but he certainly matched her on the scale right now.

She turned her back against the hallway wall and Hal moved with her, his body so close she could feel the heat of him.

‘Did Deano walk you home at least?’ he said. His hand was still on her jaw, and he let his thumb graze along her bottom lip, and then back again more slowly. Honey knew he must have been able to feel her holding her breath.

‘No,’ she whispered with the tiniest shake of her head, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt in her fingers to tug him nearer.

‘Not much of a gentleman, is he, our Deano. Did he kiss you goodnight?’ Honey could almost taste the late-night whisky on his breath, and wondered if he could smell the wine on hers.

‘No,’ she said again. ‘Deano didn’t kiss me, Hal.’

‘What a prick. All good first dates should end in a goodnight kiss,’ he said, and Honey closed her eyes as he lowered his head to hers and covered her lips with his own. Her arms slipped around his neck as his hand slid into her hair, cupping the side of her head as his mouth started to move, slow and warm, the hint of his tongue delicious against hers. She heard a low moan and wasn’t certain if it was hers or his, and moved her hands in his dark hair to hold him to her. Not that Hal seemed to be considering escape; his fingers moved restlessly beneath the edge of her top, scorching the skin of her back until she wanted to rip her own clothes off and feel his hands everywhere.

She was suddenly so glad that Deano wasn’t over his ex; so glad he hadn’t kissed her tonight, because then she’d have missed out on Hal kissing her breathlessly in their hallway, missed the sexiest couple of minutes of her life. He opened her lips with his own and explored her with his tongue, the hard warmth of his body pressing her into the wall as his fingertips massaged the hollow at the base of her spine. He tasted of scotch, and he felt like heaven under her hands. She learned things about him that only kisses can tell you. She learned that he’d be a skilled, considerate lover, and that he could kiss her in a way that made every inch of her body yearn to be naked against his. The man had skills that should be illegal. And then he took the kiss to a deeper level, open mouthed and so laden with pure lust when he licked inside her mouth that all she wanted was his mouth on hers all night. She pulled his t-shirt up and stroked his back, loving the way it made him groan against her lips. His skin was as smooth as silk sheets and as warm as fresh toast beneath her palms, firm and defined and utterly, utterly beautiful to touch. She wanted to touch him all over.

‘Let’s go inside,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Take me to bed, Hal. Your bed. My bed. I don’t care which.’

His hand stilled in her hair, and his heart banging against hers told her that he was as turned on as she was. His mouth slowed to