Allison Janda - Marian Moyer 02 - Seduction, Deceit & a Slice of Apple Pie

by Allison Janda

  Seduction, Deceit & a Slice of Apple Pie is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  © 2014 Allison Janda

  Cover design by Andrea Walters

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States.

  Join Allison on Facebook.com/AllisonJJanda

  Follow her on Twitter @AllisonJanda

  And visit AllisonJanda.com for excerpts, updates and more!

  Also, don’t miss the first novel in the Marian Moyer mystery series:

  Sex, Murder & Killer Cupcakes

  This book is dedicated, with utmost love and appreciation, to Lindsey Rai and Kali. Thank you for always being by my side, no matter the situation.

  Things had started out innocently enough. The promise of dinner and a movie that night. Around high noon, Addison called me in a panic. Addison in a panic is nothing unusual but, as it turns out, it was warranted this time around. Our main model for the January issue of Food Porn had come down with Salmonella poisoning. We’d already pushed the shoot back by a week and couldn’t afford to lose more time. Deadline was looming. Rory, our resident layout guru, needed photos yesterday. After a few seconds of freaking out myself, I decided to make a call to my date that night. Devilishly handsome James Holden was a hot commodity in Milwaukee these days. He’d be good for business. Assuming, of course, he’d agree to strip down nearly naked to pose with a slice of apple pie from the new bakery around the corner. It’s amazing what a man will do for a woman when he’s head over heels for her. I’d barely gotten halfway through my speech before he’d agreed to be in my studio by 6pm.

  His hair and makeup took less than ten minutes. I’m telling you, the man is a looker. Barely there James, who I was pretty sure had never modeled before this moment, blew me away. He was born to be behind a camera. It’s too bad his face is lost in the world of private investigation. Not so much lost, I suppose, as under appreciated. His body rippled with muscles, a slight tan and gorgeous gatherings of freckles across his shoulders and chest. I was so smitten, I’m surprised I remembered how to work the camera.

  Somehow, I made it through the shoot without throwing myself at him. Amazing, considering the numerous fantasies that spun through my head with every flash of the camera. After depositing the flash drive into Rory’s eager hands, and allowing James a chance to put some clothes back on, we raced through an obligatory dinner, squirmed our way through the latest flick at the local cinema, and sped back to my apartment. Well, I definitely sped, but he made it first, so I’m assuming he’d been in a hurry, too.

  We’d both acted nonchalant in my quaint apartment. Kept up some casual conversation that had nothing to do with what we were each really thinking. As I was opening a bottle of wine, I turned to ask him another lame question. He took the bottle from my hands and pressed up against me. I felt the hard, cold granite press into my lower back as I was trapped between my kitchen counter and James’s rock-solid body. His green eyes gazed directly into mine as I gently caressed my hand against his soft, reddish-brown hair. My hand came to a rest behind his neck, but I stopped myself from going a step further and pulling him in for a kiss. I’d let him do the honors if he was so inclined.

  A shiver coursed through my body as he continued to study me. His eyes floated from my face, to my neck, to my blouse, which may have been slightly more unbuttoned than could be considered appropriate. We’d been dating for just over a month and while we’d had some wildly amazing make-out sessions, we hadn’t yet done the deed. I felt his pelvis grind hard against my own. He planted a hand on the counter on either side of me, then leaned in and began to kiss my neck, trailing his lips slowly down to my collarbone, which he licked softly. A small sigh escaped my lips as my hand curled up into his hair and grabbed hold tightly. I felt my knees shaking as my legs threatened to give out. Good thing the counter was behind me, or I’d have been a puddle on the floor, for sure. Nothing else could have kept me from falling.

  As his lips slowly made their way up my neck and towards my ear, I took a sharp breath. My whole body felt tingly as he sighed softly against the lobe and then slowly, gently, took it into his mouth. Like a scene from “Gone with the Wind,” I threw my free arm around his shoulder for support and allowed myself to moan in ecstasy. I had become the women I’d read about in Harlequin romance novels and James was straight off of one of their covers. You really haven’t lived until someone has sucked your earlobe. You just — “Oh. My. God.” I whispered, as his hands began to wander lazily, but skillfully, to the button of my jeans.

  I felt his index finger tuck into the waistband followed by the warmth of his touch. His free hand tugged softly at my shirt before slowly, sneakily, making its way underneath of it. His left hand continued to gently play with my waistband while his right had moved from the counter and was now stalled on my hip, gently caressing it. Slowly, his grip tightened and he pulled my pelvis towards him, at the same time popping open the top button of my jeans. I gasped. “Um-” Looking up into his eyes, which had become liquid pools of desire, I swallowed impossibly hard. His hand was now toying with the band of my panties, which were boring blue and white striped high cotton briefs from the department store. I’d worn them in an effort to keep myself from doing anything stupid. I had also failed to shave my legs, hoping that, that would deter things as well. “I don’t think that we should-.” The hand that had been gripping my waist moved higher and began to trace the outline of my bra through my thin cotton shirt. Thankfully, that at least, was slightly classier, with shimmery blue lace. I felt my breath quicken. Things were going downhill fast. While a normal woman would have been thanking her lucky stars, I could only panic.

  James’s hand moved deftly to the clasp of my bra, which unsnapped itself quickly. I’d bought it for that purpose and found myself regretting the decision. Suddenly, both of his hands were unbuttoning what was left of the buttons on my blouse. In one swift tug, it was off my arms, hanging limply from my wrists. Another tug and the blouse was on the floor. “Wait, wait wait-” I said, just as he began to ease off my bra. With a wicked smile, he held his hands up in defeat, but began to slowly nip and kiss the peaks of my breasts. Without warning, he had picked me up and was carrying me towards the living room couch. I clutched at my bra, desperate to keep it from falling down any further.

  “I have seen those,” he said, playfully referring to the time I’d gotten naked in the back of his car outside a coffee shop. James Holden may have taken my virginity, but he wouldn’t take away my dignity. Again.

  Gently, he placed me on my overstuffed two-seater and tugged his own shirt off over his head. Dropping it to the ground, he moved in closer. Kissing me, he slowly pushed me down into a horizontal position on the couch. I found my hands running slowly over his broad, freckled shoulders. His hands stroked my hair and face softly, but he didn’t make a move to do away with my bra, which just barely covered my breasts. “James?” I asked softly.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Do you- is this- I mean-”

  He gently placed a finger over my lips. “We’re not doing anything you don’t want to do,” he promised.

  Damn it. Just like a man. Getting me all hot and bothered before doing the gentlemanly thing in letting me decide our course of action — or lack thereof. I wriggled beneath him and found myself grinding against his body. He clutched my hair and sucked in a breath. “Careful,
Moyer.”

  I sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

  He face grew dark. “I know,” he assured me. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he reached for his shirt, which lay sadly on the wooden floor next to the couch. Pulling it over his head, he leaned down to give me another quick kiss. “I guess I should go then.”

  Alarms began to go off in my brain. As well as other areas. I was surprised that my body wasn’t smoking. “You can stay-” I offered weakly, clutching my bra tightly against my chest. I felt like an idiot. A hot and bothered idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. Why had I said anything about the elephant in the room that neither of us was able to ignore?

  James dropped his gaze from my face, to my neck, to my chest, to my stomach, to the open fly on my jeans. I tried hard not to fidget under his penetrating stare. His hands gently caressed my exposed hip bone before he growled and pulled himself away. “Can’t,” he muttered. Standing, he shifted his pants and walked quickly for the front door of my apartment. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised. The door shut quietly behind him.

  “Bye,” I whispered to no one. After a moment, I rose from the couch, still clutching my bra, and shuffled towards the front door. Before locking the deadbolt, I peered through the peephole. James was still standing in the hallway, gently banging his head against the cream-colored wall opposite my door. With a huge sigh, he again adjusted his nether regions and began walking slowly towards the elevators, hands shoved deep in his pockets, head down like a kid who’d just lost his puppy.

  Feeling defeated myself, I clicked the lock into place and made my way back to my bedroom. Peeling off the rest of my date night clothes and jewelry, I went to my dark wooden dresser and pulled out a long-sleeved thigh-length flannel shirt and a pair of long, fuzzy socks. Not the fuzzy pink pair that held my incredibly large gun. Another pair. I own a lot of fuzzy socks. Fluffing my curls tiredly, I made my way into the bathroom to wash my face.

  About a month ago, I’d made the decision to date two very different, yet equally gorgeous, intriguing men. They had both done their part in saving my life, despite the fact that at one (or several) times throughout the course of a murder investigation, I thought they were both trying to kill me themselves.

  James Holden had been my college crush, my first love. My first — well, a lot of things. As it turned out, he was a self-made millionaire, having started his own private investigation company with his (silent) partner in crime, Mika Andrushkiv. The two had been friends for many years, but when Mika decided to take his investments and split for warmer weather than Wisconsin offered, they had lost touch. A while back, Mika was pulled from retirement to help James pin down a slippery son of a gun by the name of Barry. Barry had been out to kill me.

  I run a highly successful magazine, from which I make very paltry money. It’s a long story, but suffice to say, I’m incredibly happy and wouldn’t change a thing. As it turns out, Barry had longed for me to launch his modeling career. When a year, three years, five years, and then nearly ten years passed without me inviting him to model for my magazine, Food Porn, he went off the deep end. I guess for those of us who are fairly well mentally balanced, we’d just get a new dream. Barry, on the other hand, hatched an elaborate plot to kill me, that had involved buying a bakery as a cover. Luckily, he’d used James as an investor. James the private investigator. Stupid on Barry’s part, but I guess everyone makes mistakes. Once Barry’s plan started to near its finale, James drug Mika back to Wisconsin to act as an undercover agent. Unbeknownst to myself, my partner and best friend Addison, and our good friend and Food Porn Marketing Director, Rory, we hired Mika as our newest “model” at just the right time.

  Mika and I fell for one another about the same time James realized he had feelings for me beyond a quickie in the back of his first car out of college. The two had decided that, because they were no longer close enough to be considered good friends, they’d both work towards winning my affection. Mika officially moved back to Wisconsin about two weeks ago. No longer James’s secret partner, he’d started his own PI firm. Needless to say, the two were in very high demand, especially amongst the ladies. Still, I wasn’t the least bit concerned that either would stray before I made up my mind. Frankly, I find the whole thing rather unbelievable myself. It has been just over a month and I’m still trying to make up my mind. I know I need to decide soon and put one man out of his misery. It’s only fair.

  My face dripping with cool water, I reached for a towel and patted my skin dry before opening my eyes to look in the mirror. I was above average looking. My skin a pale peach, my dark gray eyes slightly smaller than I would have liked. My lips were the perfect plumpness, my nose not the slightest bit upturned. While I wasn’t overweight, I certainly wasn’t model skinny and preferred peanut butter cups to Wheat Thins. Perhaps my most distinguished feature, however, was my thick, curly, auburn hair that fell to just below my shoulders. Blowing a strand of it off of my face, I squared my shoulders and made my way back out into the living room, alone.

  Before heading to the kitchen to snatch a Reese’s out of my freezer, I strode over to Fred’s tank. Fred is my red betta fish. He’s not the most protective of pets, but his silent stare speaks volumes when I’m trying to make a decision. Pinching a bit of food between my fingers, I dropped it into his tank and watched as he quickly zipped to the surface and started eating. I watched him for a few moments. “Wish I had your problems,” I muttered finally. I found myself wondering if Fred would be considered a stud by betta standards.

  I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t hear the familiar ring of my cell phone. I made my way to the kitchen, where it was miraculously being charged. Checking the caller ID, I answered quickly. “Hey,” I said, walking towards the fridge and pulling out a gallon of milk.

  “Hey,” Addison answered. I could hear her hand muffle the receiver as she loudly called, “you owe me dinner!” More scratching as she removed her hand. “Sorry,” she continued apologetically.

  As I poured a thick stream of milk into a glass, I frowned. “Why does Rory owe you dinner?”

  Rory and Addison had started dating back when things had just gotten weird around the office. Their togetherness had made everything that much weirder. Addison resembled a bustier, curvier Cameron Diaz. She was smart as a whip, in-your-face sexual and she always spoke her mind. I guess she had to, considering that she worked full time for the local paper and was constantly being nominated for prestigious journalistic awards. Rory, meanwhile, was well over six feet tall, lanky, pale and wore thick-rimmed glasses straight out of a sitcom. He was adorably awkward, nerdy and everything that Addison was not. He was also partial to clothes that were slightly too long or just a hair too short. Still, you’d never meet a more loyal man, nor one better at designing magazine layouts. Surprisingly, his apartment was lavishly decorated and Rory himself was fabulously wealthy. He just chose comfort over Calvin Klein. Rory had also been in love with Addie since day one. She’d taken a little longer to warm up to him, having dated a steady stream of losers since college. Odd together though they were, they were still somehow just right.

  “Well, Rory said that you were going to get laid tonight. I have my money on you doing the oompa loompa with Mika first.”

  I wrinkled my nose and put the milk jug back into the fridge before opening the freezer and pulling from my stash of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. “First of all, never call it that again,” I chided her. “Second of all, what makes you think I won’t get laid tonight?”

  Despite the fact that she lived on the opposite side of town, I just knew she was rolling her eyes. “Please,” she answered. “You wouldn’t be answering the phone if you were in the middle of something.”

  “Maybe we’re finished.”

  “In which case you definitely should have gone with Mika,” she teased.

  We laughed and chatted for a few minutes about the date that never really was. Addison was fascinated by the idea of James posing with n
othing much more than apple pie and demanded to see photographic evidence immediately. After we’d discussed what had transpired after the shoot, I growled in frustration. “Why can’t I just- just- go for it?” I asked her. “We have been together before. In that way.”

  “True,” she responded. “But this time it is going to mean something. Especially considering that whether it is with James or Mika, sex with one probably means lights out for the other relationship. In your case anyway.”

  I nodded. She was correct on that one. I was a one-man Sally. “I just don’t know which one I like more.”

  “Pros and cons. James. Go!”

  “Well-” I hesitated. “James is- masculine,” I told her. “And his biceps are huge. Like almost the size of my head.”

  “You do like arms.”

  “Mmm. And his eyes- I just get lost in them.” I thought hard for a moment. “He’s such a decision maker. He acts quickly. I believe every single word that he says.”

  “But?”

  “I never know what he’s thinking. He doesn’t talk very much, I feel like I’m prying conversations from him sometimes.” I paused. “He also feels dangerous. Not like he is dangerous, but more like he draws in the danger. Does that even make sense?”

  “He’s in a rough line of business,” Addison agreed. “What about Mika?”

  I closed my eyes and summoned the gorgeous Ukrainian to my mind. Imagining his dark curls and blue eyes made me shiver involuntarily. He and I had done a photo shoot as well, several weeks ago. He’d had just as much pull over me as James had. Possibly even more. “He just…is,” I shrugged. “I can’t explain it. It just works. Not because there’s a good reason, but just because it does.”

  Addison giggled. “What about cons?”

  I thought hard. “Mika would want to leave Wisconsin eventually,” I admitted.