This is why.
Three words, but they marked the key to unlocking Zoe’s secrets—the thing her ex-husband had shamed her for. Her catalyst for divorcing him and moving here and opening a bookstore with her cousin, which had brought her into Preston’s life. Her ex-husband’s loss was definitely his gain, and the happy glow he’d been basking in intensified.
The cover was pretty, but didn’t give any clues as to what he’d find between the covers. A pretty blond woman in a red sweater with her arms wrapped around the neck of a dark-haired man in a white business shirt. They looked like they were about to kiss, but there was no hint some act of sexual perversion would take place.
After glancing around his office—which was stupid because he already knew he was alone—he loosened the knot in his tie a little and used his thumb to flip through the pages of the book until he got to the one she’d marked.
Leaning back in his chair, he read two and a half very explicit pages of a man performing oral sex on the woman Preston guessed, based on the genre of the book, would be living happily ever after with him. And, based on the graphic description of the man’s tongue skills, very happily ever after.
He found another written-on sticky note at the conclusion of the heroine’s orgasm, which was unusual for Zoe. She usually only used them as flags.
“Don’t be disgusting” actually meant “don’t be vulgar” because I’d talked about sex outside of the bedroom, not because I’m into anything especially kinky. Sorry to disappoint. :)
His first thoughts were confusion, followed by anger. This is all Zoe asked for? And her ex had shamed her for it? He didn’t know her ex, but Preston was willing to bet he hadn’t found oral sex disgusting or vulgar when he was on the receiving end. He must have shown a few decent qualities for a woman as smart as Zoe to marry him, but behind closed doors, he’d obviously been a selfish asshole.
But he shoved those thoughts aside—her ex didn’t deserve the time in his head—and focused instead on Zoe.
Their first time together, when she’d helped him decorate his house, he’d been about to work his way down her body when he’d felt her tense. Not a lot, but he’d noticed. The last woman he’d been in a serious relationship with had been very uncomfortable with oral sex, so he’d thought maybe Zoe was, too. And then she’d told him she wanted him inside of her and he’d been only too happy to oblige. And since that night, when they were together, he’d just gone on the assumption she wasn’t into it.
Obviously, he’d been wrong, but now he’d have the chance to make it right.
He might not have the skills to compete with a romance novel hero when it came to pleasing a woman with his mouth, but it was going to be his great pleasure to try.
Chapter Nine
“You know you’re living large when there’s a separate wine list,” Zoe said, glancing at her incredibly sexy date over the top of the sheet mounted on a fancy cardboard backing.
Preston chuckled. “I can’t focus on wine lists with you in that dress in front of me.”
She practically melted under the intensity of his gaze. When he’d suggested they go to the fancy steak place in the city Noah had raved about, she’d gone through her closet and finally settled on a simple black jersey dress that hugged her body before flaring out from her hips, and it had a deep vee neckline that even she knew made her breasts look incredible. She’d obviously chosen well.
As had her dining companion. While she hadn’t given him the satisfaction of a reaction, the first thing she noticed when Preston pulled up to the curb in front of her building and got out to open her door was the mistletoe tie.
“And I’m having trouble concentrating on the wine list when you have that book set on the table,” she said, nodding at the plain and obviously very old hardcover book he’d brought into the restaurant with him and set next to his silverware. The binding was blue fabric, very tattered and had faint words stamped on it that she couldn’t read from her seat.
Maybe if she got him talking about the book, he wouldn’t notice her practically squirming in her chair every time she looked at him and that damn tie caught her attention.
“In good time.” He gave her that naughty smile that turned her on—as if she needed to be any more on tonight—and then turned his attention to the approaching server.
After a brief discussion, Preston ordered them a bottle of red wine and they chose salads to start with. He waited until they each had a glass and she’d taken her first sip before picking up the book.
“Some of my books are still boxed up and by the time I found this one, it was too late to do anything about the fact I don’t have any sticky notes at home.”
“You don’t have sticky notes?” She had sticky notes stashed everywhere. She was pretty sure there was a pad of them in the center console of her car, even.
“Not at home, but I found a small box of book darts, so the page is marked.” He handed her the book and then took a sip of his wine, watching her over the rim of the glass.
She turned the book to read the faded script on the spine. The Gentleman’s Guide to Golf. “Do you play golf?”
“No.” He laughed. “Well, I can, but really badly. That was my grandfather’s book.”
The old fabric suddenly felt more fragile in her hand, and she was careful as she parted the covers and found the book dart. It was marking a page toward the front and she gave him a questioning look, which got nothing but a smile in response, before opening the book. The dart was marking an introductory line set apart at the beginning of a chapter.
Success can be achieved through frequent and diligent application of skills, but true mastery lies in the gentleman’s enthusiastic passion for the endeavor.
Confused, she read the line again before looking up at him. “I don’t understand.”
His smile was now bordering on smug, and then he chuckled. “If you communicate with me by way of a book, it seems fair to respond in kind.”
It took her a few more seconds to understand what he was saying—what the message meant—and then heat flooded her body.
The last passage she’d marked in a book for him had been the rather graphic and extensive oral sex scene, with the note letting him know it was the thing that had ended her marriage. Not oral sex, of course. But the way Ben had made her feel when she asked him to try it, and the knowledge she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life censoring herself to avoid being shamed by him.
It didn’t appear Preston shared her ex-husband’s sentiments when it came to going down on a woman.
“Enthusiastic passion,” she read aloud, her voice slightly choked.
“I’m very enthusiastic when it comes to you, Zoe.”
Good lord, she was going to burst into flames right here in the restaurant and she hadn’t even ordered her steak yet. “You know, you haven’t seen my apartment yet.”
“I’ve noticed. We always end up at my place, despite your apartment being above both of our businesses.”
“I’m very protective of my personal space.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and you’ll invite me up for...a drink or something.”
Definitely or something. She set the book carefully on the table and reached over to hold his hand. “I’m pretty much a sure thing.”
“Hey, look who I found.”
Zoe’s stomach dropped because she knew that voice. Of all the steak joints in all the cities, Noah Stafford had to walk into this one. And if Noah was there, Carly was probably—
“Zoe!” She looked up from her appetizer as her cousin approached the table, husband at her side. “Oh. Hello, Preston.”
How Carly managed to make those three words sound like a long, drawn out question was beyond Zoe, but she still heard it. She hadn’t really told Carly anything about how her relationship with Preston had changed since Abe’s party, and her cousin had been too preo
ccupied by the possibility she might be pregnant to notice.
“Hi, Carly. Noah. It’s good to see you. Care to join us?”
Zoe tried to kick him under the table, but she guessed by the lack of reaction that she’d gotten the table leg and not his shin. “I’m sure they want to enjoy a nice, private date night.”
“Nope.” Carly grinned at Zoe as Noah pulled out a chair for his wife.
“We’re still technically newlyweds,” Noah reminded her as he sat down. As if she could forget. “Every night is date night.”
Carly still hadn’t torn her curious, demanding gaze from Zoe’s face. “And now it’s a double date night, I guess.”
Zoe cut her eyes to Preston, and he didn’t look annoyed by the interruption or concerned about how they were going to explain being out on the town together. If anything, he looked amused.
Not that they had to explain anything if they didn’t want to. They were two adults having dinner together. But she knew Carly didn’t care about the prime rib. She would want to know how Zoe had gone from the scratching of an itch to having dinner with the scratcher of said itch. And not a quick bite at the cafe, either. This was a date kind of date. She knew when Carly had stepped up to their table, she’d seen two people holding hands across the linen tablecloth and gazing into each other’s eyes.
“What’s this book?” Carly picked up The Gentleman’s Guide to Golf and Zoe had to fight back an urge to snatch it out of her hands. “Golf?”
“It was my grandfather’s,” Preston said. “I brought it so I could ask Zoe if it’s possible to find the original slipcover for it.”
Clever explanation, Zoe thought, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt. She took the book and set it carefully next to her. The server brought their salads, and the four of them ordered steaks. She noticed Carly didn’t order wine, but instead sipped from the glass of ice water she requested.
She wasn’t going to say anything yet, but Zoe was unbelievably excited about the possibility of being an aunt. Sure, she was technically going to be a second cousin or something like that, but in her heart, she was going to be the baby’s auntie. And she couldn’t wait.
Even though Carly and Noah had crashed their romantic night out, Zoe had a good time. The steaks were as awesome as advertised, and there was a lot of laughter and small talk.
Her phone buzzed, though, and because she’d just watched Carly type something on her phone, she pulled it out of her wristlet.
What’s going on with you and Preston?
She wasn’t about to get into a back-and-forth with Carly because it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out they were texting each other. You’re the one who suggested a no-strings fling to work the sexual tension out of my system. It was good advice, so I’m following it. Eat your steak.
It wasn’t totally accurate—she was having a hard time denying, even to herself, that she could feel strings tugging between her and Preston—but she wasn’t ready to talk about those emotions yet. Not until she’d figured them out herself.
They all passed on dessert, and the closer they got to wrapping up the evening, the more distracted Zoe got by the book sitting on the table next to her arm. Once, she rested her hand on it, and then caught Preston watching her with a knowing look in his eye.
“We’re probably going to meet Jim and Emily for cocktails at that new lounge after we leave here,” Noah said. “Do you guys want to join us?”
Zoe practically held her breath waiting for Preston, who seemed compelled to find opportunities to meet people, to jump in with an acceptance, but before she could even send him a signal, he shook his head.
“Zoe and I already have plans, but I’m glad you guys were able to join us for dinner.”
They said their goodbyes and Zoe clutched the golf book to her chest as they walked to Preston’s car.
“I know you were just trying to explain having the book to Carly and Noah,” she said. “But do you actually want me to try to find an original slipcover for this? Since it was your grandfather’s?”
He squeezed her hand before letting it go to fish the key fob out of his pocket. “That’s sweet, but I have it. I took it off because carrying a golf book into a romantic restaurant was going to have you asking questions before it was time.”
She laughed and slid into the soft leather seat when he opened her door. “Such a devious mind.”
He leaned down and planted a kiss on her mouth. “My library might not be as sexy as yours, but I know how to get my point across.”
Yes, he sure as hell did.
* * *
The resident parking behind the bookshop was barely large enough for Zoe’s car and that of the couple who lived over his office, so Preston had to park in the town’s overnight lot. He didn’t mind, though, because it gave him a chance to walk hand in hand with Zoe.
She seemed nervous, and he was afraid the passage in the golf book had been too forward. But she’d started it, maybe too haunted by the hurts of assholes past to speak the words aloud.
When she’d unlocked the small door tucked between the bookshop and his office and led him up the stairs, she set the book on a small table and moved aside to let him into her apartment.
It was old, with a lot of wood and tin ceilings painted white, but it was in good repair and the small kitchen area had been updated. Her furniture was simple, but looked like high quality, soft leather.
“Beige?” he asked, giving her an amused look. “And you give me a hard time about gray?”
She laughed. “Now you know why you haven’t seen my apartment yet. Were you expecting disco lights and red silk scarves draped over the lamps?”
“No disco lights. But I thought you’d have those strings of tiny white lights.”
“Fairy lights?” She walked away from him and flipped a switch before turning off the overhead light. They stood in the glow of twinkling Christmas lights hung around the windows and draped in loops from the molding where the walls met the old tin ceiling.
“That’s very festive,” he said. “Christmas lights suit you.”
She gave him a saucy wink, but he could see the anxiety in her eyes. This was a big deal for her and he didn’t want to give those nerves a chance to kill her mood. He took off his suit coat and tossed it on a chair.
Then he unbuttoned one cuff and slowly rolled the sleeve up, which caught her attention. Zoe really had a thing for his forearms, which he didn’t really get, but he’d put on the show for her. She moved slowly toward him as he repeated the performance with his other sleeve, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Once he’d finished, she blinked and then took a deep breath. “So do you want a drink?”
He closed the distance between them and buried his hand in her hair. “I’m here for the or something.”
Kissing her hard, he slowly backed her toward the couch. Her hands clutched the sides of his shirt, but he didn’t stop moving until her thighs hit the end of the sofa. Then he let go of her hair and slid his hands up under the hem of her dress.
The soft fabric bunched easily and was quickly out of his way so he could slip his fingers down the front of the black silky panties she was wearing. He should probably take the time to appreciate that choice a little more, but she was wet and hot under his fingertips and he didn’t want to slow down.
He stroked her until she whimpered against his mouth, and then he turned her around so quickly she put her hands on the arm of the couch for balance.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
Dragging the black skimpy fabric down the curve of her ass and over her thighs gave him a moment to appreciate the delicious view, and then his mouth was on her.
She gasped, her fingers clutching the leather, and it was probably the hottest sound he’d ever heard.
As much as he hated seeing them go, he had to slip the black heels off h
er feet, and then he was on one knee, focused on nothing but his mouth on Zoe.
He licked and sucked until she squirmed, and his hands gripped her hips to hold her still. Dipped his tongue inside of her. Swirling it around her clit. He devoured her exposed flesh until she was panting and her fingernails were carving crescents into her sofa.
He didn’t care. If she punctured the leather, he’d pay to have it repaired. Or buy her a new one. All he cared about was the intensity of her orgasm and the way she gasped his name as his hands kept her from collapsing.
Then he guided her around the sofa and stretched her out on the leather, so one of her feet was dangling over the floor and the other was perched on the back of the couch.
“Preston?” She said his name like a question, and he knelt on the floor between her leg and the sofa.
“Oh, I’m not done.”
This time he used his fingers, too. Gently at first, using his tongue to soothe and tease while sliding one finger inside of her. He loved the sounds she made, and he loved the way her body responded to him. She was totally exposed to him, and he felt the trust she offered deep in his soul.
When her breath quickened and her fingers tightened in his hair to the point it almost hurt, he worked two more fingers into her while his tongue flicked over her clit. Licking. Sucking. Twisting.
She dug her fingers into his shoulders as the orgasm rocked her body against his mouth. He was so close to coming himself that her guttural groan was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he shoved back his reaction and focused on her, withdrawing his fingers and running his tongue over the cleft as her body relaxed.
“Wow.” Her breath was still ragged. “I might actually like golf now.”
He laughed and pushed himself to his feet so he could lean over and kiss her. He assumed she’d probably tug down her dress and he’d help her up, but when he straightened, she dropped her leg off the back of the couch and sat in front of him.
One Christmas Eve Page 9