by Karla Doyle
A solid hour and a half had passed by the time he called Candace back. Way too damn long. When she didn’t answer, he’d chalked it up to being busy making dinner or doing something with her daughter. So he’d shot her a text.
Finally got a break. Called but got your voicemail. Nowhere near as good as talking to you but at least I got to hear your pretty voice. Will call you again when I get home.
She hadn’t replied. No answer when he’d tried calling an hour later, or an hour after that. Something had come up or she was avoiding him. Nothing he could do about either thing at the moment. Time to concede—temporarily—and haul his tired ass to bed.
“Come on, boy,” he said, rousing his equally tired dog. The evening run they’d taken had done them both in.
He shut off the sports highlights he hadn’t been paying attention to. The living room lights next. Was in the process of shucking his clothes in the bathroom when his phone’s screen lit as it vibrated against the vanity.
Candace Caine calling.
Boom, fatigue gone. “Hey.”
“Hi, am I calling too late?”
“Never,” he said, heading for the bedroom. If he couldn’t have her there in the flesh, he’d make do with her voice in his ear while he wrapped his fist around his cock.
“I got your messages. Sorry I didn’t answer sooner. My daughter had a rough day at school and it took a long time to get her settled at bedtime.” A short, sour laugh preceded a sigh. “I’m sure that’s not the kind of conversation you were hoping to have with me.”
Caught with his hand in the cookie jar, figuratively speaking. Good thing this wasn’t a video call. He released his cock and tucked his hand behind his head. “I want to hear whatever you want to talk about.”
“Uh-huh.”
“True story, sweets. Lay it on me.” Seconds ticked by without a peep from the other end of the call. “I mean it, Candace. I want to get to know you. The real you, the whole story.”
“Even if it’s boring?”
“It won’t be. Not to me.”
Another soft sigh slid into his ear. “I don’t want to talk about me tonight. I really don’t want to talk at all.”
“You want me to do the talking?” he asked.
“Right now, I’d rather curl up on the couch and get lost in a movie. With you, if you want to come over.”
Oh hell yeah, he wanted. He definitely wanted. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Do you know where I live?”
“I will when you give me your address.”
“Then how do you know it’ll only take you ten minutes to get here?”
“Sweet, blonde motivation,” he said, grinning for nobody to see as he scooped up his keys and made tracks for the door. “Address?” He jotted the info she provided on a sticky note and ripped the paper from the pad.
“Still think you can make it in ten minutes?”
Clear across the city, fifteen minutes on a good day, if he hit all the lights green. Damn. “Start the timer, I’m on my way.”
Candace
Candace’s stomach inched higher as a pair of headlights bounced off her front window. The car didn’t stop, meaning she could breathe again. Until the next one, anyway.
Hopefully she hadn’t made a mistake inviting Jake over. She hadn’t made the offer impulsively, it’d been on her mind all day, even more so after getting his voicemails and text. She wanted to spend time with him, get to know him better, out here in the real world. The hours after Macy’s bedtime were the only time she could do that. She really should have explained that during the invitation.
Another set of lights illuminated the street. This pair slowed as it approached, sending her pulse skyward. An orange light blinked and the vehicle pulled over, parking curbside in front of her rental townhouse. The sharp clap of metal punctuated the night’s silence as somebody exited the SUV. A tall, handsome somebody named Jake Campbell.
She moved to the front door, watched him through the small rectangle of glass.
Head up, shoulders straight, relaxed strides, eyes focused on his target. He oozed confidence. And sex. She could feel the magnetism from twenty feet away, through a solid wood door. God help her once he was inside the house.
“This isn’t a booty call,” she said, opening the door—and her mouth—before he had the opportunity to knock. Before he distracted her with one of his smiles.
“You beat me to it, sweets. I was going to tell you the same thing.”
She burst out laughing, so spontaneously and loudly, she probably had the neighbors peeking out the windows to see what was going on.
“I’m glad we got that cleared up,” he said. Out came his irresistible, charming grin. “Now I can tell you that you look great without you thinking I have ulterior motives.”
“Uh-huh.” She bit the inside of her cheek, but it was no use. The smile on her face was growing by the second. Because of him.
“You look great,” he said, repeating the compliment while joining her on the small concrete stoop. Crowding her, to be more accurate.
“I doubt bare feet, yoga pants and a faded, old, university sweatshirt do it for you.”
“You do it for me.” Could’ve been a line, one he’d used countless times on a slew of women. Combined with the way he looked at her, though… If he was playing her, he was doing so masterfully.
His gaze traveled from her face to her naked toes and back again. Oh, he wanted her. There was no doubt about it when their eyes met. Even dressed this way, in some of her least sexy clothes, his attraction to her was almost palpable.
She’d be lying if she said it was a one-way street. Remembering how good his arms had felt around her this morning, the sweet assertiveness of his kiss…
“What movie are we watching?” His question jerked her back to the moment. Also to the fact that they were still standing outside her wide-open front door.
“I narrowed it to a short list. You can make the final choice.”
“Sounds good.”
She stepped into the house. Jake followed closely, his palm lightly spanning the small of her back. He’d done the same thing at Lucky’s. She hadn’t been in a position or mindset to really enjoy it there. She was now. A simple touch laced with intimacy. With possession and security. The gentle firmness warmed her skin, made it tingle, even through her baggy sweatshirt.
“My daughter is asleep upstairs,” she said, as they passed the staircase on their way to the living room.
“Will the movie wake her up?”
Candace shook her head. “It takes her a while to fall asleep, but once she’s out, she’s usually out until morning.”
“Then I should be safe to do this—” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body, eliciting a surprised squeak. “And this.” Warm breath tickled her skin as he nuzzled below her ear. “And this,” he said, pressing soft kisses down her neck and along the exposed portion of her shoulder.
He was safe from getting caught by a sleepy kindergartener, yes. Safe from Candace turning around and climbing him like a tree if he continued kissing her that way…maybe not.
Holding her close, he steered them toward the couch. He managed to settle them on one end of the couch without releasing her. He stretched his arm behind her shoulders, pulled her closer. With his other hand, he hooked her leg and hiked it over his thighs. The action brought her halfway onto his lap, with her palms and breasts against his chest. Through it all he continued kissing her neck, her collarbone, the divot below her bottom lip. Then, finally, her mouth.
Softly first, then harder, the same way he’d kissed her this morning. “Been thinking about doing this all day,” he said, on a breath.
“Then keep doing it.”
He chuckled against her lips. Teased her tongue with his. Cupped the back of her neck and curve of her ass, then pulled her closer, into a full straddle.
Sparks raced over her skin. And the tingle between her legs…oh God. She opened for him�
��mouth and legs—inviting him to give her more of everything.
He answered with more pressure. From his lips, from his hips.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, rocked her hips back and forth, getting more friction, getting closer to the point of no return. She hadn’t wanted to have sex in a very long time. That time was over—with a capital O. But have an orgasm on his lap after telling him tonight wasn’t a booty call…
“Not yet,” he said, holding her in place when she tried removing herself from his lap.
“I don’t want to be a tease. It wouldn’t be right if I—” Hair fell around her face as she shook her head.
He tucked a strand behind her ear, robbing her of her hiding place. “If you what?”
“If I got more out of this than you.”
His eyebrows rose as the unspoken meaning clicked, then a killer-sexy smile spread across his face, practically ear to ear. “Believe me, sweets, that would be more than right.”
“Not if I didn’t reciprocate. And I want to, Jake, I’m just not sure I’m ready. I know that sounds ridiculous coming from somebody in my line of work. But the things I do at Lucky’s, those are jobs. Performances, staged and played out. I haven’t been with anybody in a personal way since Macy’s dad. It’s been so long, I’m afraid I won’t know how to separate work sex from real sex, that it’ll be Candy doing things to you, not Candace.”
Jake’s gaze remained locked with hers. He stroked her cheek, freed her bottom lip from its place between her teeth. “I get it,” he said, gently framing her face between his hands. “And I’m not going to rush you into anything until you’re ready. But know this—whatever happens, whenever it happens, it won’t be you doing things to me. We’ll be doing them together. I promise you, Candace, you’ll know that it’s real.”
Maybe it was the million butterflies that’d taken flight in her stomach, or the fact that her heart was beating as if she’d just sprinted a mile, but nothing came out when she opened her mouth. Actions were better than words anyway.
She leaned in and kissed him. The lingering, lips slightly parted kind, an invitation to resume what he’d started.
He cupped her nape, splayed his other hand across her back and held her close. Then took the lead, kissing her slowly, guiding their mouths in an erotic, intimate dance that left her breathless when it ended.
“That was…”
“Real,” he said, finding the perfect description in a single word.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He eased her from his lap to a made-for-cuddling position tucked under his arm. “Ready for the movie?”
She was seriously tempted to say no, to climb back onto his lap and spend the next hour and a half kissing him. But that would make her a tease. After proving his gentlemanliness many times over, he certainly didn’t deserve to go home with blue balls. Plus, this was nice. She liked having Jake’s arm around her, being warm and safe next to his strong, sexy body.
His chest expanded as he yawned.
“How long have you been up?” she asked, when a second yawn followed hot on the heels of the first.
“Since the day I met you.” Always with the quick comebacks. One of his best traits.
“Jake.” She bit the inside of her cheek, tried for a stern expression. Not easy to do while looking at his smiling face. “Seriously. How long?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m good to go.” He leaned forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. A point and click later, the Netflix logo lit the TV screen. “What’re we watching? No list, you choose.”
“Okay.” The options she’d narrowed it to earlier didn’t fit the current mood. “How about You’ve Got Mail? It’s one of my favorites.”
“Sold,” he said, bringing up the search screen.
“Are you sure it’s not too chick-flickish?”
A softer smile curved his lips. “I grew up in a female-dominated household. Me, my mom, and my two sisters. Between the three of them, I’m pretty sure I’ve been subjected to every chick flick ever made.”
“See, you said ‘subjected to.’ That’s totally different from watching for enjoyment.”
He set the remote aside and settled back into place, playing with a lock of her hair while looking into her eyes. “Doesn’t matter what movie you pick, it’s already the best one I’ve seen in a long time.”
Suddenly, her reasons for keeping him at a distance didn’t matter. Not when there were so many more reasons to let him get close.
Chapter 8
Candace
“Jake.”
No movement from the man at her side.
She’d spoken quietly, maybe he hadn’t heard her. “Jake.” That’d been twice as loud as the first time. Still nothing. “Jake, wake up,” she said, lightly shaking the arm that’d been curled around her shoulders for the past two hours.
He jerked awake, meeting her gaze with sleep-glazed eyes. “Hey.” He glanced at the TV, black and silent since she turned it off five minutes ago, and winced. “Shit. How long have I been out?”
“I’m not sure. What was the last part you saw?”
He squinted, closed one eye. If that was his thinking-hard face, she’d have to ask more difficult-to-answer questions, because it was kind of adorable.
The metaphorical lightbulb came on above his head. “She was waiting in the coffee shop.”
“Had Joe gone in yet?”
“Is that the main guy?” he asked, and she nodded. “Then no. He was looking through the window at her.”
“Too bad you missed the rest of the scene. It’s a good one.”
“Maybe we can watch it again sometime.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s high on your to-do list.”
“Anything with you is high on my list.” He pulled her in for a soft, lingering kiss. “Sorry for nodding off. My twelve-hour shift started at seven this morning.”
In her head, she counted backward on the clock. Aside from his nap during the movie, he’d been awake around eighteen hours. No wonder he’d fallen asleep.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was too late when I called? You should’ve told me tonight wasn’t good for you.”
“Tonight was great for me. I should get going, though. Let you head to bed and catch a few hours myself.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, then rose from the couch, holding her hand as she joined him.
They walked to the door, where he threaded his fingers through her hair, letting it sift from his hand. Such a gentle, relaxing touch. Intimate, despite its innocence.
“I’m glad you called,” he said, giving her a smile that matched his touch.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, savoring the remaining moments of his embrace. “Then you won’t mind if I call again.”
“I’m counting on it, sweets,” he said, sealing the deal with a soft and sexy goodnight kiss.
Jake
The traffic lights had been on Jake’s side last night. Not so much tonight—it’d taken him twice as long to drive across the city to Candace’s place. Twenty-three too-damn-long minutes.
He turned on to her street and slowed as he approached her townhouse. A light was on in her living room, silhouetting her form where she stood, watching out the front window. Waiting for him. If she was half as eager to see him as he was to be with her, he’d call it a win. Hell, the fact that she’d called him two nights in a row was a win. Whatever happened next was an added bonus.
His phone dinged as he parked beneath a streetlamp, alongside the curb. He pulled his cell from his pocket and pressed a button to illuminate the screen.
Text message from Candace, the notification box read. She must have sent it after she saw him pull up. He swiped with his thumb and tapped in his passcode. One more tap and the message opened in full.
Did you take the scenic route this time?
She was eager to see him too. Awesome.
Another message popped up as he opened the Cherokee’s door.
I can see you
r smile from here.
He banged off a text and hit Send while heading up her front walk.
You inspired the smile.
Three dots rippled in a comment bubble on her side of the screen, then the bubble disappeared and the front door opened.
“Talking in person is better,” she said, leaning against the doorframe, looking sexy as hell in cutoff sweatpants and a faded, Blue Jays t-shirt.
“Everything is better in person. Especially when you’re the person.” He shoved the phone in his pocket. Holding her hips, he walked her backward into the house, using his foot to push the door closed behind him. “I’ll lock that in a minute.”
A soft little gasp escaped her lips as he slid one hand to the small of her back, the other to her ass, and pulled her tight against him. “No rush to lock that door,” she said, angling her head for the incoming kiss.
“Good thing, because I don’t think a minute’s going to be enough.”
“It definitely won’t be.” She breathed the words against his lips as their mouths connected. Her lips parted, inviting him deeper.
Exactly where he wanted to be, in so many ways.
Where she wanted him too, according to her body language. Arms around his neck. Sexy body pressed against him as close as physically possible—with their clothes on, anyway. He could rectify that detail.
Hands under her ass, he lifted her off the floor. She went with it, wrapping her legs around his waist. Oh yeah, that worked. But it’d work even better on the couch. Four strides and that’s where they were, Candace on her back with him nestled between her legs. Instinct and need kicked in. He rocked against her, a firm, rhythmic grind. The way he’d do if he were inside her.
He hooked one hand over the side of her shorts, tugged them down, past her hipbone. Ditto for the other side. He lifted his hips, got his hand between their bodies.