The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2)

by Sylvie Stewart

  What was this? The story-time version of “Mr. Mark Visits the Go-Go-Boys”?

  I scowled back at her and continued, “Okay, okay. So, I went in the staff room and that bartender was still in there. He wasn’t rude or anything, but he was obviously going to kick me out. Before he could, I asked him if Tony was around tonight.”

  “Who’s Tony?”

  “No idea. I just figured we were in New Jersey so it was a safe bet that somebody named Tony worked there.”

  “You’re smarter than you look,” Fiona cupped her chin and said with a teasing smile.

  “Gee, thanks. Anyway, turns out my hunch was right and he said Tony would be in later. Now this is where the awkward part comes. I don’t think this guy and Tony like each other too much because the bartender guy suddenly became much more friendly.” I was hoping to leave it at that.

  No such luck.

  “Oh? Do tell,” she said. She didn’t even have the decency to try and cover her excitement at my night’s torment.

  “God, you’re nosy! And you’re getting way too much enjoyment out of this.”

  “Oh, I definitely am. Now go on.” She was a puppy waiting impatiently for a walk.

  I huffed out a sigh of frustration but continued. The sooner this was over, the better. “Fine. He introduced himself and then started to hit on me and ask me all sorts of personal questions.”

  Fiona covered her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle her laughter.

  “I’m glad I can amuse you, Shortcake.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just getting the most spectacular visual.” She then proceeded to snort and it all just descended from there as she lost her mind.

  I scrubbed at my hair. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll finish the story.” I took a large gulp of my champagne and got up to fill my glass again.

  “Is it safe to continue, or did you pee your pants?” I asked once I was resettled on the couch and her hilarity had subsided somewhat.

  She just nodded, apparently afraid to speak yet.

  I rolled my eyes at her and prepared for further humiliation. “I was so close to the money, I just had to play the part. So, I told him Tony was driving me crazy and I was trying to shake him loose but he had some of my shit stored in one of the lockers. Since I had the key, it must not have seemed too suspicious to him. I took a look and all the locks were combination locks except one, so I opened it and got the money. You want some more champagne?” I asked, standing up again.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She pointed at me. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Spill it!” she demanded.

  I knew I’d been too quick with my ending. Dammit.

  “God, you’re good at nagging. Did you earn a Girl Scout badge for that?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “If you must know, while I was blocking the locker from his view, he may have grabbed my ass and said some really inappropriate things in my ear. There. That’s everything. You happy?” God that was embarrassing.

  She beamed. “Oh, more than you know. I’m adding this to the part of the story where you called me Toots. Ha! Now where is my phone?” She began searching around for it.

  “Not a chance in hell.” I snatched her phone from its place on the coffee table and put it in my back pocket before sitting back down, essentially blocking her access.

  “Oh, come on. Let me have my fun. What was his name?”

  “Whose name?”

  “Duh, the bartender! You said he introduced himself. Did you give him your number?”

  “Are you insane?”

  “I won’t stop until you give me my phone.”

  “No way in hell.”

  “He was awfully good looking now that I think about it. You two would make a cute couple,” she continued to tease. “Now hand it over!” She put her hand out and stomped her bare foot on the floor.

  “No.” I crossed my arms.

  “Isn’t it so great that gay marriage is finally legal?” she goaded.

  “Actually, I do think it’s great. And I’m sure what’s-his-face will find true love in due time.”

  At that, she growled and then let out some kind of maniacal battle cry while launching her entire body at me. I didn’t move a muscle as she exhausted herself trying to pry my body forward with a variety of moves. After a few minutes, she admitted defeat and slumped over my shoulder with her head resting on the back of the sofa. This put her ass at a particularly delightful level, and I uncrossed my arms so I could give it a few encouraging pats. “There, there,” I said and circled her thighs with my arms.

  She lifted her head and leaned back so I could see her face. She was flushed from exertion and her blond hair was a wild mess. “Did you just pat my butt like a baby and say ‘there, there’?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say you were like a baby.”

  She blew some wayward strands of hair from her face. It was all kinds of cute.

  “It’s okay, Shortcake. Maybe you’ll do better next time,” I told her and then flipped her down so her back was flat on the couch and I was hovering over her.

  “You’re going to kiss me again, aren’t you?” she asked, a bit breathlessly.

  “I was giving it serious consideration.” I lowered my face so our noses almost touched.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said.

  “Kissing? I think it’s a great idea.” I smiled at her.

  “You know what I mean—getting involved.”

  “It’s just a kiss. And, besides, we’re celebrating.”

  “Very funny. We have mutual friends. What happens when one of us is done with the other?”

  This was where I had to tread lightly. I couldn’t see a time when I’d be done with her, as foreign as that idea was to me, and as talented as she was at annoying me. But she was skittish as hell and I suspected she was more like me—or like the old me—than I’d realized. She didn’t do relationships. At least not yet.

  “Let’s just play it by ear.” I was hoping that response would work.

  “But I kinda like hanging out with you. You’re not nearly as irritating as I thought you were.” She smiled.

  “Again, gee, thanks.”

  “What I mean is, if we have sex a few times and then move on, won’t it be awkward? I don’t think I’ve ever been friends with someone after sleeping with them.”

  I hadn’t either, but I wasn’t going to share that bit of info.

  “You worry too much. And besides, you never know what will happen.”

  “Yes I do,” she responded, all lightness gone. Shit. This was the look of a girl who had baggage. Normally that would have sent me running for the hills, but I found myself getting worked up on her behalf.

  Had she been hurt? Had some guy treated her like shit and thrown her away? I had to save those thoughts for later and focus on the moment.

  “Shortcake, let’s take it one step at a time. You know I’m attracted to you. Are you attracted to me?”

  “You know I am. That’s not the problem.”

  “As far as I can tell right now the only problem is that we’re not kissing,” I tried to joke but it did nothing to break through her solemn mood. So, I felt compelled to say, “I promise I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.” I kissed her nose. First I was kissing her head and now her nose? This was uncharted territory for me.

  For some reason, the small kiss brought tears to her eyes. “That’s not what I’m worried about either.”

  “Tell me what I can do to make this better.” I kissed her forehead. “Do you want me to let you go? If that’s what you want, I will. Just say the word.”

  She bit her lower lip and blinked the tears away, then looked me dead in the eyes for what felt like minutes but was probably just seconds. With that, she seemed to come to a decision.

  “No, don’t let me go. Just kiss me.”

  So, I did just that.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Oh Dear God That Is Hot

  FIONA
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  What was I doing? I mean, I knew what I was doing—I was kissing this incredibly hot man. This man whom I’d discovered was so much more than some simple-minded, conceited meat-head. He was funny and caring and generous, and he took care of his own. He was also very interested in what I thought and did—even when I let my mouth wander from the topic at hand, he seemed to find me somehow entertaining. And he wanted good things for me. It was all so unexpected, but here I was in a hotel room in Atlantic City making out with a guy who felt so utterly right I didn’t know what to think about it all.

  But it didn’t matter if it felt right. I wasn’t the one for anybody. Not that Mark had exactly declared his undying love or anything, but I could feel it in my bones that he wanted to pursue something—as counter as that was to all my initial impressions of him. But any relationship that went beyond sex was asking for trouble.

  Sex was easy—it was physical connection with a few laughs thrown in. A relationship meant transparency. It meant vulnerability. It meant he would find out who I really am and all the things about me that are broken. It meant he would have the power to break me and I would most certainly break him eventually. It would end in him being disappointed at best—heartbroken at worst—and me cuddling up with Guilt for an ice-cream marathon and listening to her say, “I told you so.”

  And now that I knew him and what he was all about, I could just picture his reaction when I finally confessed about the cancer and its side effects and about the distinct possibility it could come back. Anytime. He would want to take care of me—I’d seen it with his devotion to his mother—and I would suddenly be fragile, just like I am with my parents. I was so sick to death of being weak—to see that reflected in Mark’s eyes might just kill me.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to stop your boo-hooing?” said Vagina. “If you miss out on this chance to get some, I will cut you!”

  Take it down a notch, bitch, and give me a minute. Geez Louise!

  But, dammit, she was right—what was I doing wasting my time with all these negative what-ifs? I was smack dab in the middle of Sexy Muscle Magic Land and I was having a pity party instead of enjoying the rides! And besides, I didn’t know for sure that he wanted anything other than casual sex so this could work out great. Yes, let’s go with that.

  “Now you’re talking!” said Uterus and all the other girls, except Guilt and Pride, but they’re a bit prudish anyway.

  I yanked my brain back to the moment just as Mark’s mouth left mine to trail down my neck and give me a whole-body shiver—how did he do that? While he focused on my neck, I maneuvered myself to finally cop a feel of that ass.

  Wow. Consider me a convert—exercise is awesome! Let’s hear it for all those reps!

  My hands caressed and stroked wherever they could go—his hips, his back, his shoulders. I had no idea the human body could have that many ridges and contours. It was time to get his shirt off and get a better look.

  I pulled his head up from my neck and couldn’t resist another kiss before I said, “Mark, if you don’t take your shirt off I’m going to tear it in two.” His eyes were a little glazed over, as I’m sure were mine, but he grinned and then rose to his knees.

  Holy shit—that was a sight!

  He then reached behind his head with one hand and pulled his shirt off in a single fluid motion, revealing a chest, abs, shoulders and…everything a man like him had going on. In other words, I think I stopped breathing and was technically dead for a moment.

  Laney and I have often discussed this ultra-sexy and impressive male talent of removing a shirt in this manner. We both firmly believe they know exactly how it affects a woman—not that we’re complaining. We decided to try it ourselves one time but had very little success. Laney’s enormous rack got in the way during her attempt and I had to help her extract her arms from the straight jacket she’d created. My attempt wasn’t much better—I was able to get the shirt off but it completely messed up my hair and stretched out the neckline of my Stella and Jamie shirt. Also, Laney declared that it really wasn’t as sexy when a girl did it.

  Oh right, back to Mark and his incredible bod—you should know by now I’m scatterbrained, so just deal with it! His shirt was quickly discarded and I got to take in the full view.

  Unfortunately, my little viewing party was cut short because Mark was on top of me again seconds later. But I had been right in guessing that my sensory journey of his body would be so much better without a shirt. His skin was smooth and hot, with the contrasting hardness of his muscles beneath—and there was that heady scent that filled my brain with all sorts of naughty thoughts. I was going to have to find out what cologne he wore and keep a bottle with me when our little affair was over.

  Gah—stay in the moment, Fiona!

  By this point, Mark’s hand had slipped under my blouse and was pushing it up above my bra. I helped by lifting my arms and head so he could pull it off. Now it was his turn to check me out, but in truth, there wasn’t a whole lot there. I hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. If his growl was anything to go by, I guess I had nothing to worry about. His head dipped down and his lips blazed a trail from my waist up to the center of my mostly non-existent cleavage. He lifted his eyes to mine and I noticed his pupils had almost overtaken his brown irises. And I swear his damn eyelashes batted themselves at me!

  “Your skin is amazing,” he said, and then leaned back down and took a little bite of my neck—just hard enough to make me groan. I was so turned on at this point I couldn’t unhook the front closure of my lacey bra fast enough. I needed his mouth on my breasts ASAP. Luckily, Mark could read my mind and immediately covered one firm peak with his lips while his calloused hand caressed the other. A wave of relief coursed through my body at his touch. It felt like my whole being had been waiting for this—for his touch and possibly for this particular man. It was such a startling and unfamiliar feeling.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on the thought, though, because everything moved at lightning speed after that. We couldn’t get our clothes off quickly enough and before I knew it, my legs were wrapped around his waist and he was lifting me up and striding toward the master bedroom. Yes, please!

  “Yippy!” I heard the girl parts shout.

  He put a knee to the bed and lowered us both down, his mouth crashing down on mine in a frantic kiss. I kept my legs locked around him and caressed his arms, reveling in their warmth and strength. It was like running my hands over a relief map, but in a super sexy way.

  “Oh my God,” I panted into his mouth as my center clenched. “More.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand smoothed over my booty and thigh until it found its way between our bodies and his thumb found my clit, stroking and circling until I thought I’d go mad. And then I believe I did go mad as my orgasm suddenly crashed over me and I continued to pant and moan into Mark’s mouth, feeling like I was losing my grip on reality.

  He bit my lower lip gently. “You are so fucking sexy when you come,” he groaned.

  Just as my heartbeat was beginning to slow, he suddenly got up off the bed and I started to panic. That is, until I realized I was finally getting my first full-body view of naked Mark and– holy mother of male perfection! This guy was like a living breathing statue, the title of which would be “Oh Dear God, That Is Hot!”

  The moonlight coming through the window cast a gazillion shadows across his sculpted body, and the breath left my lungs again. I had never seen such a thing in real life. His hip “v” was so cut it was a capital “V” with an exclamation point!

  “Where are you going?” I managed to croak through my breathless state.

  “Condom,” he responded and then turned around presumably to find his pants in the other room. Oh, this view was just as delicious as the first. Exactly how many muscles comprise the human ass? I pondered that for an extra couple seconds before stopping him.

  “Here,” I said, rolling over to open the nightstand drawer. “I’ll bet the Days Inn doesn
’t supply condoms.” I looked over my shoulder at him and noticed his eyes planted firmly on my bare ass. Huh, he seemed to think my booty was nice the way it was too. This guy was great for my ego.

  I held up the condom and he quickly climbed back onto the bed to lie next to me.

  “I may have been hasty in my judgment of this hotel.” He took the condom and ripped the packet open with his teeth, while I moved my hands down to encircle his rigid cock and begin to stroke him. He groaned and allowed me to explore him for a few moments before he nudged my hands aside and rolled the condom on. Somebody was impatient.

  Having been deprived of the pleasure of stroking his cock, my hands moved to his chest and flattened against his pecs. I could both hear and feel his chest rumble at my touch, and my heart sped up again.

  This was really happening. God, I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake, but at this point everything felt so good and so right there was no way Guilt or Pride or any army of inner girl voices could stop me.

  As Mark finally pressed into me, he actually sighed my name. I moaned in response like a wanton hussy, a role I was just fine with. We began to set a perfect rhythm and his mouth sought mine out again.

  “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned between wet kisses.

  In response, I wrapped my legs around him and held on for dear life as our tongues and lips explored one another and our bodies joined over and over. I flicked his ear with my tongue and felt him shiver over me as he continued to thrust and I met his every movement.

  I may have lost consciousness at one point when he lifted my leg up to rest on his shoulder and his thrusts became almost frantic. In this new position, I had a clear view of his gorgeous face and chest and he kept hitting the exact right spot. It was so good I was essentially just a lazy ball of goo, not really contributing anything and just letting his muscles do what they do best.

  It. Was. Fucking. Hot.

  Mark began to grunt with effort and intensity and I could tell he was as close as I was. I grabbed onto his hips and bit my lower lip hard—that was all it took to send us both over the edge. It was quite possibly the best orgasm of my life, and if Mark’s gasping breaths were anything to go by I was thinking his had been damn good as well.