by Mia Sosa
Karen whipped out her e-reader, and he caught himself peeking at her digital library. The covers surprised him. There were bare chests everywhere. Lots of windswept hair and openmouthed kisses. Sexy as fuck. And not appreciated at this moment.
The innocent temptress caught him spying on her reading material and widened her eyes in excitement. “Oooh, this is a good one. The heroine’s a mechanic and car detailer. The hero is a straitlaced businessman. She’s jacked up his ride by mistake. Made it so he can barely recognize his prized sports car.” Karen leaned into him and whispered, “And when he finds out what happened, he’s furious. She is, too. Because he’s such a jerk about it. But the sparks between them? Undeniable.”
He leaned in, wanting to hear more.
“You can just tell the sex scenes are going to be explosive.” She mimicked an explosion with her hands and voice.
He hadn’t expected her to be so animated, so her overblown demonstration nearly propelled him out of his seat. To save face, he pretended to search for something under his ass as he patted the bottom cushion. “Sounds riveting. I didn’t figure on you reading that kind of stuff.”
“When I’m nervous or stressed, a solid romance is the perfect escape. A steady diet of medical textbooks isn’t healthy. Even I know that. Not sure I’ll read it on the flight, though. I’m exhausted.” She glanced at him. “I sure could use a drink. To relax me, you know? You think they’ll offer whiskey?”
It sounded like an innocent question, but he had no interest in engaging her on this topic. “You like whiskey?”
She grinned. “I’ve only had it once. You probably don’t remember, but it was the night we met, actually.”
He wanted to forget what she’d told him the night they’d met, but this conversation dredged it all back to the surface, where he wouldn’t be able to ignore the way she’d made him feel. Refusing to take the bait, he shrugged. “Sorry. Much of that night is fuzzy to me. I only remember bits and pieces here and there. Like Ethan and Gracie’s big news.”
She tapped her index finger against the top of her right thigh. “Well, that’s good. I might have said some things best left unsaid.”
Do not let her see you sweat, Mark. “Like what?”
She stopped tapping and waved her hand. “Oh, nothing really. Let’s forget about it.”
Excellent. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. She didn’t want to go there again with him. So now they could interact with each other as friends. Nothing more. Relieved, he took a cleansing breath and settled into his seat, ready to review the report his Human Resources Department had sent him.
Two minutes into the first page of the report, he stopped. Karen was fidgeting, shifting in her seat in search of a comfortable spot. When that appeared not to work, she rustled through her bag, setting random contents on the seat tray table. She turned to him and puckered her lips. He drew back, unable to figure out what she could possibly have in mind. She held up a tube of lipstick. “It’s called Kinda Sexy. The lipstick shade, I mean. I’m thinking about wearing it for the wedding. What do you think? Too much?”
He swallowed and stared at her pink lips. It should have been called, These Lips Are Made for Sucking, really, but she’d probably pop him in his mouth if he spoke his mind. “It’s nice.”
She smiled and dug into her purse some more. Keys. Hand sanitizer. Condoms.
Christ. He had to do something. “You know what you need? Hot tea. That’ll get you relaxed enough to sleep during the flight.”
“That’s a great idea, actually.” She reached up and hit the attendant call button. Unnecessary, given that said attendant was two feet away, but today Karen seemed intent on stretching her body into eye-catching positions.
The flight attendant—Bethany according to her name tag—swept in to serve her. “Yes, ma’am. How may I help you?”
“I’d like a cup of hot tea, please, with a splash of rum.”
The flight attendant nodded and switched her attention to Mark. “And you, sir?”
Just knock this woman out, so I can read my report in peace. “Nothing for me, thanks.”
Bethany returned with the cup of tea, which Karen scooped up with enthusiastic hands. “Yummy. This is going to be so good.”
Was it just him or did her voice sound breathy?
He tried to ignore the sounds of her sipping her tea. Tried not to glance at her lips as she licked them. Pretended he couldn’t hear her murmurs of appreciation. But the more he tried to block her out, the more he heard and noticed every move, every sound, every damn thing she did. Finally, finally, she placed the cup on the tray table and draped the airline-issued blanket over her body.
“All set to take a nap?” he asked.
“I am. Thanks. With any luck, I’ll be asleep for the rest of the flight.” She leaned against the window and closed her eyes. “Happy reading.”
He returned his attention to the HR report, flipping through the document. When Karen shifted closer to him, he didn’t think much of it. Minutes later, though, she rested her cheek on his shoulder and snuggled into him, her steady breathing signaling that she’d fallen asleep. There was no way he wouldn’t smell her now. Dammit. He inhaled as covertly as he could and regretted it. She smelled like apples, or maybe peaches, but the scent was faint, which made him want to press his nose against her neck to get the full effect. He wouldn’t make such an asinine move, of course, but he sure as hell was tempted.
His gaze traveled to her hands, both of which she’d tucked between her thighs. Her thumbs rested atop her jeans. She wore her nails short, filed in a square shape, shiny but clear. A vision of those hands wrapped around his cock flashed through his mind.
She mumbled something unintelligible, startling him out of his dirty daydream.
She moved her hand across his torso and slipped a single finger into the space between the middle two buttons of his shirt, one layer away from touching his skin. The rest of her hand lay on his stomach. He moved to wake her up but stopped himself. He didn’t know why. He just did.
From there, his mind took over. So he closed his eyes and let it take him where it obviously wanted to go. If they were alone, his mind taunted, he’d move her hand to his cock and help her stroke him through his pants. She’d wake up then, groggy and disoriented, and her glassy eyes would go round with the realization of whom she was with and what she was doing. But she’d warm to the idea quickly, her soft lips parting and then curving into a seductive smile. Without a word between them, he’d pull her body up to straddle him. She’d lean over and kiss him. A tender exploration that would grow more heated as he stroked her hips and back.
From there, they’d move at a frantic pace, working together to remove the clothes separating them from the skin-on-skin contact they wanted. He’d remove her jeans. She’d unzip his pants, tugging at them until he rose off the seat and rolled down his boxer briefs. She’d stare at his cock, her eyes gleaming with appreciation, of course. With her hands on his shoulders, she’d center herself over him and slam down on his dick in one forceful motion. Fuck. That would feel so good.
“Excuse me, Mr. Lansing. Did you need anything?”
Mark opened his eyes and stared at the flight attendant. She faked a smile as she waited for his response.
Holy shit. What the hell was he doing fantasizing about Karen while the woman slept next to him? “No, no. I’m fine. Must have dozed off.”
“Right. Well, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
He faked a smile in return. “I won’t. Thanks.”
The flight attendant nodded and pivoted on her sensible pumps.
He shrugged his shoulder to wake up his seatmate. “Psst. Karen.”
“Hmmm?”
“Karen,” he whispered. “I need to use the restroom.”
She sprang away from him and opened her eyes wide, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she regained her bearings. “Sorry about that. Taking up your personal space, I mean. I’m a
heavy sleeper.”
He was grateful for that. If she had any idea what he’d been imagining while she lay against him, she’d deck him. He nodded and stood. “Not a problem, believe me. I was so engrossed in the report that it barely registered. You didn’t disturb me at all.” He moved out of the row, just in case lightning struck him in that instant; at the very least, he’d spare her.
The next hour of the flight passed without incident. They spoke briefly two times, once when he passed her a replenished drink and again to collect the small amount of garbage they’d accumulated on their tray tables. Still, Mark couldn’t have been more hyperaware of her if he’d tried. And he was really trying not to be hyperaware of her.
He glanced at Karen, her head mere inches from her e-reader. It would have been so easy to slip his hand through hers and tug her to him, but he saw no point in starting something he would never finish. Karen represented everything he didn’t want in a partner: too young, too inexperienced, and too unsettled. But denying that he was attracted to her would have been futile, too.
Both he and Karen planned to be permanent fixtures in Gracie’s and Ethan’s lives, which meant they had to find a way to interact with each other despite their inauspicious beginning. Their first encounter had been sparked by lust, by the heady feeling of mutual attraction. He’d never engaged her on an intellectual level, which meant he’d seen her only as a sexual being, a potential lover. The source of the problem came to him—as obvious as a neon sign flashing in front of his eyes. Even if he wanted to resist her, he’d set himself up to fail by having no other frame of reference for her as a person. It shamed him. A little. But it galvanized him, too.
He stuffed the report in his bag and turned to her. “You start medical school in the fall, right?”
Her head remained bent. “Yup.”
“Are you excited? Anxious?”
She set her reading aside and stared at her hands. After releasing a deep sigh, she tucked one leg under the other, and twisted her torso in his direction. “Both. On the one hand, I’m blown away by the fact that I did it. I got into medical school. On the other hand, I wonder if I’m ready. Do I have the chops to do well?”
“But it’s not that easy to get in. You need good grades, recommendations, excellent exam scores, I imagine. All of those indicators can’t be wrong, can they?”
“Those indicators help predict the likelihood that you’ll succeed in medical school, but they don’t guarantee that you will.”
“Of course they don’t. There are no guarantees in life.”
“Right. Of course. Just nervous about this next chapter in my life, I suppose.”
“Have you always wanted to be a doctor?”
“Not always, no. I’ve always been interested in science, though. And it comes easy to me. My brain appreciates the structure of numbers and equations, so classes like chemistry and physics don’t freak me out.”
“I’m a numbers person, too. I went in a different direction, though, obviously. What led you to medicine?”
“I played soccer in high school. Got hurt one day. I wish I could say the injury happened in the middle of a championship game, but I broke my arm in practice, trying to defend a goal. We went to one of those urgent care centers.” She smiled, a wistful expression on her face. “I’ll never forget the nurse who helped me.”
“Was she the one who inspired you to become a doctor?”
Her smile slipped. “No.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. The nurse was great. Despite the place being understaffed and very busy, she answered all my questions. I was curious about everything. She explained to my parents what to expect. Consoled my mother, too. My mother was really beside herself. The nurse calmed her, told her everything would be okay. Then the doctor came in. And I became a body. He never once asked me if I had any questions. Addressed my dad, not my mom. At all. And left within forty-five seconds, to do more important things, I guess.”
“You wanted to be a doctor who would do better under those circumstances.”
“Exactly. Being a numbers person, I understand the appeal of dealing with just the facts. For the most part, that’s how my brain works, too. But a doctor has such an important role in people’s lives. Sometimes you have to take a step back, no matter what’s going on in your professional and personal lives, and recognize that the individual you’re speaking with is a real person and what you say matters to them. Some people say they always knew they wanted to be a doctor. That’s not my story. But I grasp science easily, and I try to be a compassionate person, so why not me?”
He moved closer, touched by her words. “We need a million more like you, in my opinion.”
Grinning as though she’d received her first compliment ever, she bumped him with her shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about that, but thanks anyway.”
She radiated energy and warmth—and a whole lot of sexy without even trying. How she did it, he didn’t care to know. He raised his finger to play with a curl that had come loose from her ponytail. The move turned into an awkward stretch, however, when he realized what he was about to do.
“You know, I’m glad Gracie and Ethan brought us together. I think we could become great friends,” he said.
She’d been on the verge of leaning into him, probably because he’d given her every reason to believe he’d welcome the contact, but she drew back on his last word. Though he’d emphasized their new friendship to set boundaries for himself, he’d also hoped to send her a message, too. Her sudden interest in the contents of her purse confirmed that she’d heard that message loud and clear.
Mimi came out of nowhere, leaning into Karen and Mark’s row—and breaking the uneasy moment. “That Marine is hot,” she told Karen. “No wedding ring, either. I’d love to see him stand at attention, if you know what I mean. Oorah!”
Okay. There was only so much a man should be expected to take. He rose to stretch his legs, and Mimi plopped into his seat. Just as well, since he needed a minute to get his shit together.
He’d wanted to establish a connection with Karen based on something other than their mutual attraction. And he’d managed that in spades. Problem was, now he’d gotten a glimpse of her intelligence and compassion, too. And those traits made her infinitely more attractive to him, not less.
In a few hours, they’d be in Puerto Rico, where he’d stay for three days. Despite his attraction, surely he could resist her for three days. With the Marines’ battle cry in mind, he prepared for battle. His mission: to fight his attraction to Karen at all costs. Oorah.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The man had mastered the art of confusing her. Trying to decipher his odd behavior would only be an exercise in frustration, so Karen vowed not to analyze any of it. She maintained that resolve on the terminal’s moving walkway, up the stairs to ground transportation, and as she searched for their driver. Behind her, Mimi and Mark discussed the possibility of visiting El Yunque, a tropical rain forest on the northeastern part of island.
Blah, blah, blah. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Mark and Mimi’s carefree chatter irritated her, and she had no idea why. Rising on her toes to see above the heads of the travelers bustling around her, she scanned the area for a sign with her name on it. When she failed to locate their driver, she stopped short and spun around, which caused her to collide with Mark, who’d been walking behind her. “Oof,” she said against his chest.
Mark whispered for her ears only. “Admit it. You have a thing for my chest.”
Yes, I do.
She stepped back and shook her head. No. No, I don’t.
See? Confusing. One minute he’d reached out to touch a strand of her hair. The next minute he’d claimed to be grateful for their new friendship. And now he’d made a suggestive comment about his chest. His big, solid chest.
Damn him. She did not need this now.
She drew back and gave him her best “not in this lifetime” smile. “In your dreams, Lansing.” Then she lin
ked her arm with Mimi’s. “We need to find our driver.”
Together, she and Mimi searched the crowd.
Her eyes finally found the sign that read, PENNINGTON AND RAMIREZ, and she waved to the driver who would take them the fifteen-minute drive from the airport to Hotel El Convento. As its namesake suggested, the hotel had once served as a convent. Gracie couldn’t resist the hotel’s old world charm, and its proximity to the numerous art museums in Old San Juan was an added benefit.
A tall man in a black suit and cap held a sign with Mark’s last name on it. He must have made his own arrangements then. She turned to Mark and schooled her features. “Where are you staying?”
His eyes met hers. “The Ritz-Carlton.”
Ah. Definitely more modern accommodations than hers. She’d never visited the Ritz, but she knew it was a favorite among international travelers who wanted the familiarity of a luxury chain.
“We’ll see you in a few hours for dinner?” she asked.
“Sure. Take care, ladies.”
“Bye,” Mimi called out as she put on her sunglasses. Shoulder to shoulder, they watched Mark walk away. When he was out of earshot, Mimi whistled. “That man’s ass is a force unto itself.”
Distracted by the view, Karen blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I like firm butts and I cannot lie.”
Mimi stared at her in disbelief. “Wow. That man brings out a side of you I’ve never seen.”
Unfortunately for Karen, she didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.
* * *
Gracie had left Karen a welcome note at hotel check-in. Ethan had arranged a series of spa treatments for Gracie, the note explained, followed by a couple’s massage for the bride and groom. They’d see everyone later that evening. Which meant Karen needed to hightail it to Abuela Marta’s house to help prepare for the pre-wedding dinner.
Gracie had offered to plan a dinner at the hotel, but Abuela Marta had insisted that her home would be the perfect place for a small gathering of family and friends. Gracie had already pissed off their grandmother by choosing to stay in Old San Juan, but she’d justified the decision by emphasizing that, with only a few days to prepare, she and Ethan needed to stay close to the wedding venue. So when Abuela Marta had insisted on hosting the dinner, Gracie caved. Her sister’s sense of self-preservation had clearly kicked in, because an annoyed Abuela Marta was not to be messed with.