by Susan Stoker
“Let’s get you upstairs and get your knees cleaned up,” Magic went on.
Upstairs. Yes, please.
“She’s locked out.”
Stella lifted her head off Magic’s chest and gave her friend a shut-up face. Holly recognized the silent communication and returned her own no-you-shut-up face.
“Come on, Lucy and Ethel, we’ll go to my place and get you cleaned up.”
“Um. I’m Stella, and she’s Holly.”
“She’s actually brilliant. I know you wouldn’t know by her cockamamie idea to trespass on her neighbor’s balcony so she could jump to hers, but she knows five languages, and her IQ is only a few numbers shy of genius,” Holly supplied. Then added, “But you know what they say about smart people—they lack common sense. And apparently, they don’t get classic TV references either.”
The man who’d come with Magic was staring at Holly with something that looked a lot like interest—okay, more like blatant, unabashed interest. Holly was staring at him like the heavens had opened up and all of her wildest dreams had come true.
“I’m Dash,” the man introduced himself, stepping forward.
“I’m Holly. Holly Culver.”
Holly took Dash’s outstretched hand, and now she looked like all of her wildest fantasies had come to life.
Magic dipped his head, and Stella’s breath caught as his chin brushed the side of her face.
“I’m Magic.”
Yes, yes, he was. Pure magic. That deep voice, those piercing green eyes, with a mop of black out-of-Army-regulation-length hair; the kind that made a woman want to run her fingers through it. Or tug on it when he was getting down to business between her—
“She’ll be fine,” Magic said, pulling her from her dirty thoughts.
“Huh?”
“Your friend, Holly. Dash’ll take care of her.”
Stella tore her gaze from Magic and saw Dash walking Holly in the opposite direction—hand-in-hand. According to the bylaws and covenants of the sisterhood, a sister never left a sister’s side. Not even when the hot guy she’d been ogling was dragging her off. Holly was her best friend, and in the five years she’d known her, not once had Stella seen her look at a man with such interest.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll text Dash and tell him you want a picture of his license plate.”
Before Stella could comment, Holly looked back, gave her wide-happy-eyes, and brought her hand up, mimicking talking on a phone as she mouthed, call me later.
Yeah, Holly was just fine and sure as hell didn’t need a save. Stella gave her friend a thumbs-up.
“Damn, you’re cute.” Magic chuckled, and Stella rested her head back on his shoulder.
“Thanks.”
His big body shook with humor, and Stella sighed.
A few minutes later, Magic set Stella on her feet in front of his door. It was then it hit her where she was, so when her lips curved up into what she was sure was a goofy smile, she didn’t try to hide it.
“Best idea, ever.”
Magic’s smooth, deep chuckle echoed in the hall. Her eyes drifted closed and she let the moment wash over her.
Oh, yeah, best idea ever.
2
Wade “Magic” Jacklin couldn’t stop smiling as he searched for his first-aid kit. After months of watching his sexy neighbor and trying to find the right time to approach, she’d literally fallen right into his arms.
He couldn’t believe his luck when he saw Stella hanging in the tree, her friend standing below her as if the tiny slip of a woman would actually be able to catch Stella if she fell. It was that thought that had pulled his eyes off his neighbor’s ass and quickened his step. As it turned out, Magic had arrived just in time.
But before she fell, Stella and her friend had provided some hilarious banter.
Abort mission.
But it had been Stella bitching about ruining her shoes, then getting tongue-tied about him watching that had clinched the deal. He found his in, and he didn’t even have to knock on her door asking to borrow a cup of sugar—which was what he’d planned on doing now that his schedule had lightened and his team wasn’t up for rotation.
Magic grabbed his kit and made his way back into the living room, finding Stella right where he’d left her sitting on his couch.
“Your setup is opposite of mine,” she told him.
“Yeah?”
“Your kitchen’s on the left, mine’s on the right,” she continued.
Magic glanced over Stella’s shoulder to the wall behind her. His bedroom was on the other side, meaning if the floorplan was mirrored, he shared a bedroom wall with Stella. In an effort to stop his mind from wandering to her bedroom—or his, and all the filthy things a gentleman who just met a beautiful woman wouldn’t think about doing—he looked back to Stella.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t a gentleman, and Stella was beyond beautiful. Tall, with long blonde hair, and striking blue eyes that were so damn pretty his mind went there. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what they’d look like when she was overwhelmed with pleasure. Would they turn hazy when he found the places she liked to be touched? Would the color deepen the closer she got to orgasm?
Magic quickly sat on the coffee table in front of her to hide his now throbbing erection.
He cleared his throat and asked, “So, tell me, what was your plan?”
Pink hit Stella’s cheeks, and the throbbing turned into an ache.
Sweet Jesus, she was gorgeous.
“Well…” She trailed off, and her full, kissable lips curved up into a smile. “I thought since our balconies are connected, if I could get onto yours, I’d jump over to mine and let myself in.”
There were many reasons her plan was faulty, but Magic ignored them in favor of her letting herself into her apartment.
“If you know how to pick a lock, why not just open the front door?”
“I don’t know how to pick a lock.”
“Then how exactly were you going to let yourself in?”
“The slider’s not locked.”
That was exactly what he was afraid she’d say.
“Babe, that’s dangerous as fuck.”
Stella tipped her head to the side, and those blue eyes danced with humor. Not seeing a damn thing funny about her leaving her door unlocked, he didn’t return her mirth. Actually, now that Stella was sitting in front of him like a dream come true, Magic didn’t find any of it comical. Not her hanging from a tree—her knees scraped, her shirt torn—and he especially didn’t find the fall amusing. She could’ve been seriously hurt.
“If it makes you feel better, I lock it at night.”
It didn’t make him feel better, not even one single bit. But not only wasn’t it his place to lecture her about safety, he also had blood to wipe away, scrapes to clean, and a woman to get to know.
“Lift your leg and rest it on mine,” Magic instructed.
Stella quickly followed orders and set her calf on his thigh.
Be a gentleman.
Using the damp washcloth he’d brought along with his kit, he dabbed and wiped the blood, revealing the abrasions that marred her smooth skin.
“Good thing I shaved this morning,” she mumbled.
Magic lifted his gaze and immediately wished he hadn’t. Twinkling blue eyes met his stare, and the ever-growing ache turned painful.
Damn, she’s cute.
Magic wracked his brain for something witty to say, but before he could come up with an idea, she continued, “I hope you’re not planning on wiping me down with alcohol. That shit stings.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll blow on it.”
Her nose scrunched up, and her brows pulled together in what was supposed to be a frown, but it was her lips that caught his attention. Full, pouty, puckered lips he’d been fantasizing about kissing.
“Defeats the purpose of using alcohol if you blow on it.”
“It does?”
And…another head tilt. Christ, this woma
n was killing him.
“I know you’re teasing me, but just to confirm, there are many ways I wouldn’t mind swapping spit with you,” Stella said. “However, you blowing your germs into an open cut isn’t one of them. I quite like my legs and wouldn’t want to lose one after it has to be amputated once infection set in from your boy-spit contaminating my battle wound.”
Magic couldn’t stop the groan slipping from his throat at the thought of swapping spit with Stella.
“Battle wound?” He chuckled.
Her beautiful smile made an appearance, and Magic was mesmerized. Months ago, when he moved into the building, it was one of the first things he’d noticed about his neighbor. Straight up, Stella was gorgeous. She was tall, maybe five-eight or five-nine, so there was no missing her long legs. Great hair, stunning eyes, fantastic tits, but it was her smile that had drawn him in. Any time he saw her, she was smiling—not a fake grin most people gave to strangers—open, genuine, and blinding.
“With that said, I’m curious to know—do you blow on your buddies’ boo-boos when you’re in the field?”
“My buddies?”
“Your team,” she explained. “Do you clean them up and blow on them?”
“I absolutely don’t blow on any of them,” Magic started. Then asked, “My team?”
“Right. I forget quiet professionals.” The saucy wink she added made Magic’s dick twitch in his pants. “We’re not supposed to talk about it. Like Fight Club. First rule about Delta Force is you don’t talk about Delta Force.”
Stella was being playful, cute, but he couldn’t stop the knot from forming in his gut. He hoped he was wrong, but it wouldn’t be the first time a woman wanted in his bed just to brag about bagging an operator. Something that in the past never bothered him. But Stella was different, and he was honest enough with himself to admit it would hurt if that’s what she wanted—bragging rights.
“Hey. What’s wrong? I’m just joking with you. I have clearance, and I’ve sat through a million OPSEC briefings. I know better than to run my mouth. Not only would I lose my job but I’d never put you or any of the teams at risk.”
Magic’s body started to relax when he asked, “Your job?”
“I’m a linguist.”
“Civilian or military?”
He’d never seen her leave her apartment in uniform but he still needed to ask.
Please say civilian.
“Civilian contractor.”
Thank fuck.
“Holly and I both,” she went on. “We actually translated the intel for your last mission. One of the other linguists missed something, not because they lacked skill but Holly’s been speaking Arabic since she was like ten. She speaks it conversationally so sometimes she picks up on certain things that are easy to miss.”
It was easy to hear the pride in Stella’s voice when she spoke of her friend. Magic liked that. Too often, people were competitive about the wrong things. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be the best. Hell, it was his job to be the best. But he did that as a team, and it sounded like Stella understood.
“That intel gave us what we needed to bring down some very bad men,” Magic said, busying himself with cleaning her leg. “We appreciate what you do.”
“Please.” She waved off his compliment. “All we do is translate emails and phone calls. You guys do the heavy lifting.”
“Lots of moving parts, Stella. We can’t do our job if you don’t provide us with what we need. We can’t get where we’re going if others don’t do theirs.” Magic smoothed the bandage over the worst of the scrapes and tapped her shin. “Other one.”
“Wow. You didn’t even have to blow.”
Christ, she was killing him, and she knew it.
“Other leg.”
Stella did as asked, and once she was settled, he set about getting to know her.
“So, five languages?”
“My grandmother is from the Netherlands. She insisted everyone in the family speak Dutch. And since Oma refused to speak English in the house, I learned Dutch and English at the same time. She also taught me German. From there, French and Italian were easy to pick up. I found that I loved languages, the different nuances between conversational, written, proper. I know it makes me sound strange, but there it is. I’m a total dork.”
“Dutch, German, French, Italian, and Arabic. Impressive.”
“And Pashto,” Stella added.
“So you know seven languages, including English.”
“Well, Holly doesn’t count English and Dutch as foreign since she considers those my native tongues.”
Magic’s hands faltered and he swallowed a groan.
Gentleman, he reminded himself.
But now that he was thinking about her tongue, he couldn’t stop his body from responding.
“You’re too easy.” Stella giggled, and his hands went from clinical to roaming.
“Is that so?” he asked, skimming his fingertips up and around so they could graze the back of her knee.
Magic kept his touch light and used an ungodly amount of control not to go any higher. He was already pressing his luck and had passed gentlemanly, going straight to overly familiar.
“It would seem you are as well,” he teased.
“Did you just call me easy?” Her eyes narrowed, but the smile belied the censure.
“Easy? Never. Responsive, yes.”
“Responsive, huh?”
Jesus fuck, that smile. It did insane things to him.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” Magic warned and watched Stella’s smile turned into a sexy smirk.
“Is that so?”
Her eyes flashed—smokey blue crowded with lust. A wave of excitement washed over Magic
Thank fuck.
“Yep. On Tuesday night,” he confirmed.
“That’s rather specific,” she returned.
As much as Magic was enjoying the banter, especially the unhidden disappointment he heard in her voice that he wasn’t going to kiss her until Tuesday, he needed to get her on her way or he wouldn’t be waiting. And they’d be doing more than kissing.
“I’d like to tell you I’m a gentleman, but that would be a lie. And since I don’t lie, I figure the best I can do is wait until after our second date. But so we’re clear, it’s gonna be painful, it might drive me over the edge, it’s gonna take all of my control to go slow. So, Tuesday.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Yep,” he unnecessarily confirmed.
“And Tuesday will be our second date?”
“Yep.”
“Cocky much?”
“Cocky? No. Confident, determined? Hell yeah. When I see something I want, I don’t dally getting it.”
“Dally?” She giggled, and Magic took a moment to enjoy the sound.
“No games, Stella. I want to take you out tomorrow. Then Tuesday, I wanna see you again. Not because I wanna kiss you—which, babe, you gotta know I seriously wanna kiss you—but because I’ve been waiting months to find the right time to ask you out. And since we’ve been sitting here…no, since I saw you hanging from that tree mumbling under your breath to your girl, I’m kicking my own ass for not finding the time sooner. Straight up, I wanted to ask you out because you’ve got a great smile. But now I know with those legs, that shiny blonde hair, those beautiful eyes, comes a great personality and good sense of humor.” Magic paused to fully appreciate the woman in front of him. The teasing lust had drained away and softness had crept in. Oh, hell, yeah, he wanted more of her. “Not only am I kicking my own ass, I’m pissed I’ve lost months with you. So no, I’m not gonna dally.”
“No games, Magic,” she mimicked. “I’ve been watching you for months, hoping I’d accidentally bump into you and could find a way to charm you into asking me out. If I’d known all I had to do was lock myself out of my apartment and climb a tree, I would’ve done it months ago.” Stella stopped and gave him one of her trademark smiles. “What time should I be ready?”
“Seven.”
“I’ll be ready at six forty-five.”
There it was. No games.
Now all he had to do was find it in him to wait until Tuesday before he kissed her.
3
A week later, there was a knock on the door—not the front door, the slider that led to the balcony. Stella craned her neck and watched Magic walk into her apartment.
“Hey,” she greeted and turned back to the stove.
It took several seconds for him to return her welcome, but when he did, his was way better.
Way better.
With his chest fitted against Stella’s back, he brushed the hair away from her neck, and a shiver went through her when she felt his lips brush the sensitive skin under her ear.
“Good day?” he asked, not straightening. She felt his lips move against her, which caused another tremble.
He was good at this—the foreplay. So good, it was a miracle she’d held out as long as she had.
Tonight was date number six. Date number one ended with him walking her to her front door. With his hands shoved into his pockets, as he waited for her to enter. The effort it took for him not to touch her wasn’t lost on Stella.
Date number two ended with Magic coming into her apartment, closing the door, then he proceeded to rock her world. The kiss he’d warned her about wasn’t a kiss, not in the traditional sense. Their lips had indeed met, their tongues had tangled, but it was more. Unlike any kiss she’d ever received.
Magic didn’t coax—he took, he tasted, he owned. He’d fisted her hair and held her steady while his other hand, resting on her hip, hadn’t roamed. His mouth had done all the work, and by the time he broke the kiss, Stella was wet, needy, and panting. More turned-on than she’d ever been in her whole life.
That was, until the end of dates three through five, which had happened consecutively. Each night had ended with a mind-bending, toe-curling kiss, but Magic hadn’t taken it any further.
She’d had dinner at his house, he’d eaten at hers, they’d watched movies, laughed themselves stupid swapping stories. They’d talked about all their favorites, what they disliked, places they’d been. Stella knew he had two brothers and a sister. He knew she was an only child. Both their parents were still married. Big stuff, little stuff, deep conversations, silly, flirty banter. In six days, they’d done it all.