Sweet Spot (Plaything Book 2)

by Tess Oliver

  "Trevor and I dated for four years. He was my first and only real relationship." She shook her head. "Never mind, it's embarrassing. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it gets."

  "Now you've got my full attention."

  She handed me her empty glass. I walked back to the table to fill it. It seemed I wasn't going to hear the story. We sat down and snacked on the basket of breadsticks Roland had left on the table.

  Macy spread butter on a piece and took a bite. She sat forward. "Yum. Delicious. Your chef friend is a master." She finished the breadstick and the second glass of wine as we talked about the collection of plants and garden sculptures Veronica had placed around the balcony.

  Then Macy grew quiet. She ran her fingers along the stem of the glass. "I caught him screwing my friend in the restaurant bathroom in the middle of our rehearsal dinner." She blurted the words fast, as if she just wanted to get them out there.

  "He's an idiot."

  "That he is." She held her glass for me to fill. "I don't usually drink so much, but this wine is amazing." She fanned her hand in front of her face. "And I think I'm starting to feel the effects of me gulping the stuff like its water." Even after mentioning that she was feeling drunk, she took a few hearty sips. "Finding him in the bathroom stall with one of my bridesmaids wasn't even the embarrassing part. For four years, the man insisted that we wait for marriage. We were like two well-behaved teenagers, never doing more than heavy kissing and a little of this and that. Even though there were times when I told him I wanted to have sex. But he insisted we wait. It will be extra special if we wait. Turns out, while I was waiting, he was having the time of his life satisfying what he claimed was a sex addiction. His excuse for it all was that he didn't want to scare me off. He thought if I knew what a ravenous appetite he had for sex, I wouldn't want to marry him. It's probably a good thing I found out about his insatiable carnal habits before we actually went through with it." She stopped to suck in a breath. "Wow, that just came out like bubbles in champagne. Guess the wine unpopped that cork good." She covered her mouth to stop the flow of words but then spoke through her fingers. "God, I sound like a pathetic, gullible nerd when I tell that story out loud."

  I waited for a moment, to see if she was finished and to absorb the major 'ah ha' moment I had as she spoke. The mystery was solved, that intriguing piece to the puzzle finally in place. And that led me to my next stupid, but, for me, completely predictable remark. "You're a virgin?"

  She laughed, but it sounded far more incredulous than filled with humor. "Out of that entire explosion of information about the worst moment in my life, the most important part you came out with was that I'm still a virgin." She placed her glass down and spoke again before I could offer an excuse, of which there was none. "I suppose you're looking at me like I'm some rare species of bird come back from extinction. Actually, that works. I'm a dodo bird, a fucking dodo bird, and I've had a lovely glass of wine on your very pretty balcony. But now I'd like to go home."

  Fortunately for me, the crazy high tech latch on the sliding doors to the balcony stopped her quest for a fast exit.

  She messed with the latch. "What the heck kind of door is this?" The slight waver in her voice made me want to kick myself.

  I walked over to her but stopped short of touching her. And that was not easy. But I'd made a mess of things, and the last thing I deserved was a reward for being an insensitive jackass.

  Macy spun to face me. A split second of something other than anger crossed her face, and I was sure I read something in her expression that said kiss me. But it passed quickly, and I convinced myself I'd been wrong. Macy was different. She wasn't overt and obvious with her flirting, something I wasn't used to, and it was throwing me off my game. Which might just have been a good thing. Aidan always loved telling me that I was never going to settle down with one woman until I found one who could knock me off my stride.

  "Macy, that was stupid of me to ask. I know. You'll have to forgive me for being a typical asshole whose mind goes straight to sex in every topic. Especially when the words are coming out of lips that I've been dreaming about kissing all week. I love sex. Hell, I'm part owner of a business that sells products to enrich people's sex lives. But I'm not him. I'm not that idiot who messed up and who is no doubt kicking himself a hundred ways to hell right now because that sure as fuck is what I'd be doing if I lost a woman like you."

  Her expression softened and the starched set of her thin shoulders rounded as she relaxed. "You've been dreaming about kissing me?"

  It was my turn to laugh. "Out of that entire explosion of feelings, something that believe me is as rare as a fucking dodo bird for me, that's the most important part you came away with—that I've been dreaming about kissing you?"

  She blinked her big brown eyes at me. "Yes."

  "Good." I took hold of her arms and pulled her against me. My mouth pressed down over hers, and I kissed her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Macy

  It was instant. The heat. The slight case of delirium. The tell tale sensations in my pussy. And it knocked me nearly senseless. Trevor had kissed me many times, but I'd never had such a spontaneous reaction. In fact, there were times when I'd hardly had any reaction at all. I'd told myself it was out of self-preservation because I knew with Trevor it would never go past the kiss. So I'd trained my body not to react. I'd held down my desire because it would only have led to an unsatisfactory ending each time. But now, in the glittery haze stirred up by Chase's kiss, I wondered if my body had never reacted to Trevor's kiss because it just wasn't worth reacting to.

  Chase lifted his mouth from mine. My lips trembled in loneliness. They wanted more. I wanted more.

  He lifted his hand to my face and pressed his palm against my cheek. "Even better than I dreamed of."

  He was a man who knew exactly what to say and at the exact right time. I, on the other hand, was utterly speechless as I catalogued, in my mind, every physical reaction I'd just experienced. Even my breasts and nipples ached from the kiss as if he'd kissed me there directly.

  "Holy shit." They were the first words that ushered from my tender lips. "I dodged a bullet."

  Chase straightened. "Uh, is that bad or good? I'm thinking bad."

  I shook my head with a smile. "It's good for you and for me. If I hadn't caught Trevor in the act, I might have gone through with the wedding. I might have been contractually tied to a man who I had no physical interest in. He'd kissed me a thousand times and I have never—" I felt a warm blush cover my cheeks.

  "Oh no, you don't get to stop there. I'll be up all night trying to fill in the blanks. You have never . . ."

  I wasn't bold enough to list the intimate reactions. "I'm just questioning my entire relationship with my ex. In fact, I'm questioning everything about my personal life for the last four years." Chase certainly didn't need any more notches in his bachelor's belt. I'd already confessed enough to him. He didn't need to know how much he had aroused me with just his kiss. He probably could have guessed, anyhow, by the stars that were no doubt floating in my eyes. "I feel like I've been living in a cave . . . by myself. That jerk, I will never forgive him." Because Trevor had so badly damaged my sexual confidence with men, it took all my courage to reach up and press my hand against Chase's chest. It was hard and impressive beneath my palm. The muscles in his pecs tensed more as if my touch had caused a physical reaction. I lifted my hand away, but he reached up, took hold of my wrist and placed it there again. His chest rose and fell with a breath. The soft cotton of his shirt wasn't barrier enough, and I felt the heat of him against my palm.

  "Chase, could we try that again? That whole kissing thing. Could we do that—" My request was cut short by his mouth.

  This time, rather than just hold me, his hands explored my back. His palm smoothed over the cotton fabric of my dress and journeyed down toward my bottom. I found myself jutting my bottom out just a little more than was natural, in hopes that his hand would eventually brush o
ver it. My wish was granted, and I found myself melting against him as his hand ran over my ass. His tongue danced intimately over my bottom lip as he bunched the fabric of my dress up in his fingers, lifting the hem high enough that I felt a breeze brush against my panties. That same breeze cooled the moisture that was quickly pooling between my legs. All this and he had done nothing more than bunch up the skirt of my dress a few inches. How the hell would I react if he'd swept that same dress up and over my head, slowly stripping me naked, right there on his dad's balcony? That erotic thought produced a mewling sound in my throat that I'd never heard before. It was a sound that made him groan in response.

  His kiss deepened. He released the fabric of my dress and pushed his hand beneath the hem. My knees turned to jelly as his hand swept over my panties and his fingers teased and tugged at the thin, silky fabric. My body trembled with the possibility of his fingers slipping beneath my panties and between my legs.

  Then with a sound that seemed a mix of lust and frustration, he dropped his hand and lifted his mouth from mine. The strain I saw in his face mirrored the way my entire body felt. I'd been turning to pure hot liquid in his arms, but his sudden retreat had frozen me solid.

  Had I done something wrong? I could only imagine how much the virgin thing would turn off a man with his experience.

  "I guess we should heat that dinner." For a guy who was always as cool and smooth as cream, his voice sounded tight and gritty. I wasn't sure how to decipher what had just happened. My own inexperience left me feeling confused and more than just a little disappointed.

  "Yes," I said with a weak smile. "Let's eat."

  Chapter Twelve

  Chase

  The night air had cooled, which was good. Kissing Macy had started out as just that, a kiss. But my cock had reacted instantly. Hell, every cell in my body had reacted instantly. A few times, I'd tried to convince myself it was the virgin thing. The notion of introducing someone as amazing as Macy to the joys of sex held more than just a little appeal. But it didn't take long for me to dismiss the virgin theory. As intriguing as that was, it was the woman herself who had me spinning. Her quick wit, the way she rubbed her finger across her bottom lip to wipe away spaghetti sauce, fuck, even the way she ate the spaghetti had me spinning. And that was why I'd stopped myself before I hit the point of no return, before I lost my mind entirely and took her right there on the balcony. She was slightly drunk, and she'd just told me that she'd gone through a four year relationship waiting and trying to imagine what sex was like. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off or ruin her expectations with a wild, crazy fuck on the balcony. Even though a wild, crazy fuck was exactly what I wanted. I needed to go slow and pace myself. I was going to do this right. If Macy was interested, I was going to introduce her to the world of pleasure.

  She put down her fork. "Delicious. Your chef friend is amazing.” She rubbed her bare arms. "It's getting cold, and I need to get back home and go to bed. I've got to be up in six hours."

  "But tomorrow is Saturday."

  "Yes, it's a slower day than the rest of the week, but I can't afford to shut down. Sunday is my day off. Although, I spend most of it doing paper work and testing recipes."

  "Testing recipes? Well, if you're in need of a taste tester, I'd like to offer my services."

  Her lips were still slightly swollen from my kisses and that made me pretty fucking pleased. "If you like, you can come by Sunday afternoon." She waved her hand. "What am I saying? A guy like you probably has a million things on his social calendar."

  "What time?" I asked.

  Her eyes rounded and those same swollen lips fought to keep back a smile. "Four o'clock?"

  "I'll be there."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Macy

  Of course, the last thing I needed at the start of my new business was to be located out front of Chase's apartment complex. Yesterday, the work day had dragged on, mostly because I'd spent time between customers waiting to see Chase walk out of the building. If I'd had a tiny click counter in my hand to squeeze every time my gaze landed on the giant glass doors of the building, I would have moved the number five digits. And that was being conservative. But I'd been in the plaza, peddling my goods, for four hours, and I never saw him come outside.

  Naturally, my mind went right to the idea that he had gone on to a party or another date after he'd dropped me off at home. Then the wretched scenario of him walking out of the building with a woman, or even two, on his arm turned my disappointment at not seeing him into relief.

  After his kisses, which I could still feel on my lips, I'd had an impossible time getting him out of my head. It was as if Chase had turned on a switch, a switch that had been turned off for four years. Which brought me back to the conclusion that Chase was the last thing I needed right now. But I didn't have enough willpower against his charms to cut things off. I had never been one to shy away from something new and this was definitely new.

  The fragrance of almonds and brown sugar filled my small house. The oven timer rang. I clicked out of my spread sheets and closed my laptop. I walked to the oven and pulled out the tray of bear claws.

  After the breakup, Trevor had hinted at me giving back the very expensive engagement ring he'd bought me. It was a ring that I had always had mixed feelings about. There was no way not to admire the massive sparkling diamond in the middle of it, but big diamonds had never been my thing. Neither had impractical jewelry, and an oversized rock on the ring finger of a baker was highly impractical. I couldn't count the number of times I'd nearly lost the thing when I had taken it off to knead dough. Trevor knew I wasn't all that keen on wearing it. But when he had asked for it back, I flatly told him that I had earned the fucking thing. And then I promptly took it to a jewelry consignment store and sold it. I'd gotten enough for the stupid thing to buy myself a professional stove and convection oven. They were far more practical than a sparkling diamond.

  I tried to ignore the fact that it was past four o'clock. It was silly to think that someone like Chase would have time on his weekend calendar to hang out in a tiny house sampling baked goods. Just as I pushed away the depressing image of Chase sitting in a swanky club with a girl on his lap and another at his side sipping expensive drinks and forgetting entirely about the girl in the linen apron leaned over a rolling pin and hot stove, a knock on the door startled me. The bear claw I'd been transferring to the cooling rack took a quick exit from the spatula and landed upside down on the wire rack. At least we had our tasting sample.

  I'd imagined myself streaked with flour, only to discover, as I looked at my reflection in the oven, that I actually had one streak across my cheek. I lifted the bottom edge of my apron and wiped it off and then remembered that I was wearing the darn apron, complete with buttery grease and strawberry stains.

  I untied it and dropped it on the hook in the kitchen. It had been a warm day outside, and my tiny house, with its professional, super powered oven, was hot, so I had dressed in shorts and a tank shirt. Shoes had never been my thing, especially when I baked. I pulled the band out of my hair, and it fell around my shoulders. I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't wearing a ponytail around Chase. It seemed that somehow during my years with Trevor, I'd forgotten how to be sexy. Thinking back, I was far better at flirting and acting sexy when I was in high school. God, was there anything in my life the man hadn't destroyed?

  Chase had just lifted his fist to knock again as I swung the door open. I was relieved to see him in shorts and a t-shirt. And he looked incredible no matter what he was wearing.

  He pointed behind him. "With the mouthwatering aroma circling your front yard, I'm surprised you don't have a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk trying to get a glimpse or a taste of the sweets inside."

  "Actually, you missed the crowd and the parade that followed, where they had me hoisted on a float made of bread dough that was shaped like a brioche." I motioned him in with my head. "You're in luck though. I just made a complete mess of a
bear claw. So if you don't mind a less than pretty pastry, I can still guarantee the flavor."

  "I can look past the flaws." He followed me to the kitchen. I scooped the broken pastry onto a plate. "Milk?"

  "Naturally."

  I poured him a glass of milk and led him out to the front room. He sat on the couch, my shabby secondhand find, and looked comically spectacular in the middle of my very unspectacular apartment.

  I sat on my knees and faced him as he tasted the bear claw.

  "I tried a new ratio of butter, brown sugar and almond paste. I think they are moister now."

  Chase was even appealing when he ate. I was going to have to find some irksome habits and traits soon, or I was going to find myself irrevocably smitten. Actually, I worried that that was already the case.

  "I assumed a guy who grew up the youngest of four brothers and one with no mom to correct bad habits at the table would eat like a slob. I've seen so many men gobble food like drunken medieval knights just back from a long war, licking their fingers, smacking their lips and barely taking a breath in between. But you savor each bite."

  "That's because each bite is worth savoring. But catch me after a long day of rock climbing with a double cheeseburger in front of me, and I would probably live up to those medieval standards just fine."

  "You like rock climbing?"

  "I do. I find it a nice escape from everyday life. And it's a great way to stay in shape."

  "A scary way, you mean. Of course, I'm afraid of heights, so I might be biased in my opinion."

  "Believe it or not, I was too."

  He finished the bear claw and milk. "I think it had to do with an incident with my older brother. Tommy dangled me off the roof by my ankles. Thought I was a goner for sure. That time, Tommy took the punishment. Not me. When some friends started rock climbing, I decided to take the challenge and face my fear. My fear of heights is gone. Unless Tommy is near, then the whole nightmarish scenario comes right back to me."