Touch Me

by Christie Ridgway

  And was that a smart idea on his end? Payne wasn’t like Bing, who before Alexa had a weird, effed-up rule about only bedding a woman once before moving on. But continuing with Rose…

  Maybe if she woke up bright-eyed and smiling he could put her name in the Fuckable pages of his black book. But most likely she’d emerge from the room and pretend nothing had happened. In a few months she’d be engaged to marry dull Dustin and she’d only think of Payne in a vaguely fond manner for proving to her she could expect more from a man in the sack.

  Or against a door.

  Or over a table.

  Striding forward, he squatted to retrieve the tiny piece of blue material. His thigh muscles complained, reminding him that less than ten hours before he’d been in just that position, giving Rose Dailey head.

  His dick twitched again in his jeans and he licked his lips, remembering the taste of her, and the way she’d thrust her sex against him as she came. Beautiful. Her juices had saturated his beard and clung to his whiskers. He’d not washed it off—as a matter of fact he’d yet to shower—but instead slept with her sweet smell, traces of her arousal transferring from his face and hands to his pillowcases and sheets. Note to self: tell Rose not to change them anytime soon.

  Rising, his quads shrieked at him again. Christ, he needed to up his leg workouts if he was going to be effective braking and changing gears once he got behind the wheel again. Race car drivers might sit on their asses, but they needed to be top notch aerobically and strong everywhere in order to endure the g-forces exerted on their bodies at high speeds.

  The thought propelled him toward his weight room. Might as well get in a few sets of leg curls and extensions. But the path took him past the guest room and he paused there, unable to ignore the partly open door.

  It was only ajar a couple of inches, but it gave him a direct view of the rumpled pillows and bed linens. He’d put Rose to bed naked, divesting her of the cover-up and unhooking her bikini top, but keeping his gaze on her face instead of stealing a glance at her breasts. She’d curled onto the mattress and he’d pulled the covers over her, only allowing himself a second to appreciate the delicate slope of her shoulders and the fragile bones of her spine.

  Their raw coupling hadn’t besmirched her.

  Now, she lay on her back, the sheets and comforter pushed down to her hipbones and he, shameless sinner that he was, looked his fill.

  The salvage yard office had been shadowed, camouflaging some of her exquisite perfection. He knew her breasts were small and firm and he’d loved the way her nipples had hardened as he pressed them to the roof of his mouth with his tongue. Now, as the sunshine streamed through a high window and spilled over the bed, it bathed her in light, illuminating the tender peaks, their color a soft, nearly transparent pink.

  They looked so innocent, the color of a young girl’s blush.

  Like the one Rose had worn on that night so long ago. Then, like now, he wanted to grab her up, hold her close, inhale all the goodness from her hair and her skin, taking it straight into his tainted soul.

  He’d resisted then.

  His dick was hard all the way, aching. He stroked it over his jeans with the hand that still held her bathing suit bottoms. Why resist now?

  Five strides, and he could plump her breasts between his palms, create a valley for his cock. She’d wake up to find him fucking her there.

  And he knew the moment her eyes opened he’d climax, his seed white against her nude-and-pink beauty.

  His hand gripped his shaft. He was a degenerate, no doubt. She was probably dreaming of kittens and cotton candy while he was thinking of rubbing his come all over those perfect breasts and nipples.

  Gritting his teeth, he told himself to move away. Instead, he managed to shift his gaze upward…and felt a new ache in his chest. That face. Glossy hair, dark lashes, lush mouth.

  Her voice sounded in his head. Payne? What if I need that kiss?

  His sudden, desperate need to give that to her was the only thing that spurred him to move away. Squeezing the bottom half of her swimsuit in his fist, he stepped farther down the hall.

  Then, noise coming from the front door had him reversing direction. Not wanting Rose to be awoken, he hurried there, wondering who the hell was making an early visit. Through the reed glass sidelights, he could make out a familiar figure. Cursing under his breath, he shoved the piece of cloth into his front pocket and opened the door before she could ring the bell.

  “Hello, Mom,” he said.

  “Sweetheart,” she said, smiling at him as she pushed past him to enter.

  Sighing, he realized he couldn’t ban her from the house. But he didn’t want her to know about his guest, so he was determined to get her on her way as soon as possible.

  He lounged against a wall as she took a seat in the living room, then crossed her long legs. Her hand went into her oversized purse and came out with a cigarette.

  Payne gave the object a pointed stare.

  “Oh, all right,” his mother, Vanessa Payne Yee said, tossing it back into the caverns from which it had been plucked. “You’re so mean.”

  Ignoring that, he took in her light tan and the T-shirt she wore with jeans and low-heeled, strappy sandals. In yellow-and-white, the cotton advertised a cruise line. “Did you have a good time on your vacation?”

  “I think Gregory enjoyed himself.” A hint of anxiousness drew her brows together. “You should call him and ask.”

  “Mom, I’m sure you’re a better judge of your husband’s state of mind than me.” Gregory Yee was an IT exec who had met Payne’s mother at a charity fundraiser two years before. String Bean Colson had paid the bearers of his children vast sums for custody papers and non-disclosure agreements and in the last decade Vanessa had devoted her time and her monies to volunteer work.

  That new, consuming interest had given Payne an emotional break and his mother, finally, a husband who seemed to adore her in all the ways that Payne’s father could not care for anyone.

  “I don’t know,” Vanessa said. “I want him to be so happy with me—”

  “Mom.” Payne knew to interrupt the wave of insecurity before it started rising. He was an old hand at dealing with his mother’s fears and self-doubt. “Gregory thinks you hung the moon.”

  She brightened. “You think?”

  “Tell me about your cruise’s first stop.” Glancing at a nearby clock, he had hope she could wrap up her trip report in ten minutes or less. “I don’t have a lot of time this morning. I need to get to the new salvage yard.”

  “Payne.” There was concern in her voice for him, and he tried to appreciate it because it was a fairly new phenomenon. “I’m sure you’re not cleared yet to drive.”

  “I have an, uh, assistant.” He straightened from the wall. “As a matter of fact, the assistant should be arriving any second to drive me to work.”

  “How did you find this person?” Vanessa asked. “I’d like to meet him.”

  Payne stifled his groan, annoyed with himself for not seeing this coming. He was still unaccustomed to his mother’s ability to care about anyone but herself. That sounded mean, but it was true.

  Also true, was that he was in no mood for one of her harangues about his treatment of women, the sure outcome of her encountering Rose. “Ren arranged the assistant, though I think it was Cilla’s idea.”

  “Those two. They’re still engaged?”

  “Yes, Mom. And a wedding date is imminent.”

  His mother was shaking her head, as if amazed. “I hope that’s going to work out.”

  “I’m sure it will,” he replied, trying to keep his cool. “I think they’re going to be very happy.”

  Vanessa expression remained skeptical. “How would any of you kids even know how to conduct a marriage?”

  It was a sentiment he’d expressed a hundred times himself. What the hell did they know of normal relationships? He scrubbed his hand down his face, and for a moment was distracted, as it brought Rose’s intimate
scent back to life. An image of her in bed blossomed in his mind, but this time he was with her, both of them waking up together in the streaming sunlight. He leaned close for a morning kiss—

  “Payne?” His mother’s voice was sharp. “Are you all right?”

  Scraping his face again, he banished the fantasy and returned his attention to his mother. “I’m fine, Mom. And this has been nice, but I really have things to do. I’ll show you out and we can make plans—”

  “Payne?” A new voice called.

  Oh, shit. His mother half-turned in her seat as Rose wandered from the kitchen and into the living room, blinking sleepily. Thank God she wasn’t naked, but what she was wore wasn’t much better. It was one of his Hawaiian shirts from the guest room closet. This one wasn’t X-rated, thank God, but was printed with pink hibiscus flowers on a black background. It swallowed her body and landed somewhere south of her pussy and ass, but he didn’t think it disguised the fact that she’d stayed over.

  As he watched, she rubbed her eyes with her fists, and the tender feeling that surged in his belly stunned him. He wanted to run her a warm bath, towel her dry afterward, and then bring her breakfast in bed. Something sweet. Pancakes. Waffles. Rolls, gooey with cinnamon and butter. “Rose, why don’t you—”

  “Hello,” his mother said, rising from the couch. “I’m Payne’s mother, Vanessa.”

  Rose’s fists dropped, as did her mouth. She went from drowsy to alert in a heartbeat, her gaze darting between his mother and Payne. “Um, I…” Then her shoulders squared and she walked forward, her hand outstretched. “Nice to meet you.”

  “This is Rose Dailey, Mom,” he said as the two shook hands. “Rose, this is Vanessa Yee.”

  What the hell should he do now? Getting rid of his mother was his first choice, of course. “Mom—”

  “How exactly do you know my son?” his mother asked. “And for how long have you known him?”

  “Um… We, uh, met in high school, actually. I’ve been living in Seattle but when I relocated to California we ran into each other again.” Her gaze shifted to Payne, shifted back. “I understand you’ve been on a trip, Mrs. Yee. A cruise? Did you have a good time?”

  “Why, thank you for asking. It was lovely. My husband and I adore the Caribbean.”

  Rose smiled, as if she wasn’t embarrassed to be birth day-bare beneath the thin shirt. “How lucky you are. I’ve always wanted to visit there.” She flicked him another unreadable glance. “Now, may I make you and Payne some coffee, Mrs. Yee?”

  “Oh, I can do it,” Vanessa began.

  “No, no, let me,” Rose was already backing toward the kitchen. “It’s my job. I’m his personal assistant.”

  He wanted to groan, though he had to admire her for brazening it out. As she turned to scurry off, the hem of his shirt fluttered, giving him a quick peek of her cute peach of an ass. He quickly glanced at his mom, and though he didn’t think she’d caught that glimpse of Rose’s naked butt, from the expression on Vanessa’s face, he knew he was doomed.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded, in a theatrical whisper.

  “Mom. Please. I’m thirty years old. I don’t need your mothering any longer.” Not that he’d had it when he’d actually needed it. In those years, Vanessa had been nursing her resentment and anger toward Bean, only to flood Payne with it when it overflowed.

  “You’re sleeping with your assistant?” she hissed.

  He barely managed not to roll his eyes. “My assistant slept here last night. Beyond that…sorry, Mom, it’s none of your business.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re sleeping with your assistant?” she repeated.

  “I’m not saying yes or no, but reminding you I’m an adult.” He held onto his patience with all his might. “And that being sexually active is healthy.”

  “You were sexually active as a boy,” she muttered. “It wasn’t healthy then.”

  Ouch. It didn’t help that on that point she was likely right.

  Her mother rose from the couch, tucking her purse strap over her shoulder. “You probably want to get on with more of your healthful activities. So I should get out of your way, I suppose.”

  He didn’t raise his fists in victory, but he didn’t try to stop her either. Instead, he trailed her toward the door. Pulling it open, he reminded himself she was his mother and that her experience with his father had broken her. Truly, he knew that. “Thanks for stopping by, Mom,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek.

  Vanessa reached toward his front pocket. Too late, Payne realized part of Rose’s bathing suit was sticking over the edge. His mother pulled it free.

  When he snatched the scrap of fabric from her, his mother gave a wry shake of her head. “She seems very sweet.”

  “She is very sweet,” he said, shoving the material deep.

  “Then does she know what kind of man you are?”

  Standing in the street beside her car, Rose had just tossed her purse into the back seat when Cami Colson drove up in a classy older Jaguar. Braking alongside the sedan, the other woman rolled down her passenger window. “Going or coming?”

  Coming. Rose prayed that last word wouldn’t make her blush, but she couldn’t help but fiddle with the top she was wearing—now officially dubbed the Hawaiian shirt of shame. Lucky for her, she’d left a pair of old cropped jeans in the laundry room, so she wasn’t escaping in her wrinkled cover-up and the half a bikini she’d managed to find.

  “I need to make a quick run home,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound like she’d spent the night.

  Cami’s eyes narrowed. “You look like you could use some coffee.”

  There was a pot in the kitchen. But she’d vamoosed when Payne headed for the shower right after his mother left. Rose didn’t feel like returning there before getting her own shower, a complete change of clothes, and alone time to gain some perspective following the staggering sex. “Well…”

  “My favorite coffee place.” Cami took the decision out of her hands. “Follow me.”

  In a few minutes they had seats around one of the bistro tables on the sidewalk outside a busy coffee bar, each with a paper cup in hand. Rose took a sip of her latté, sighed. “Okay. This tastes wonderful.”

  Cami smiled. She was dressed in grunge-Bohemian chick, rugged boots, ripped jeans, and a delicate blouse dripping with lace. With her hair tucked behind her ears, Rose saw that she had a single ear-piercing, a tiny circle of diamonds at the top curve of her lobe.

  Cami tapped her cup against Rose’s. “You looked like you could use something hot and strong.”

  Rose choked, a hysterical urge to giggle rising up her throat. I’ve just had hot and strong, thank you very much.

  Looking concerned, Cami pounded her back until Rose held up a hand. “I’m fine, now. Thanks.”

  “My brother would murder me if something happened to you on my watch.”

  Rose looked away, wanting to avoid the topic of Cami’s brother completely. On the drive to the coffee place, she’d quickly devised a way to handle—at least temporarily—what had happened with Payne. In order to prevent any awkwardness, she was going to consider the sex an impersonal activity.

  A session with a personal trainer, she’d decided.

  Now a new thought occurred. It had been more like a spinal adjustment.

  That was even better, right? Nobody felt weird if they ran into their chiropractor—or their chiropractor’s sister—the following day.

  Pleased with the idea, she swallowed more coffee and heard the throaty rumble of an approaching motorcycle. To her interest, Cami straightened, going on alert until the vehicle came into view. Then she relaxed back in her chair, her shoulders slumping a little. Rose remembered what Payne had said about Cami’s secret guy. Tat sleeves on both arms. Rides a Harley.

  Hmm.

  “So,” she said to Cami. “I think you should tell me all about you.”

  Green eyes shifted her way, narrowed a little. “All about me…what?”
/>
  “Work? Life?” Rose paused. “Love?”

  Cami set her cup onto the table between them. “Did one of my brothers put you up to that? They are so nosy.”

  “No.” Rose laughed. “I was just curious.”

  Just then a guy turned from the sidewalk, headed into the coffee bar. He glanced at the pair of them, then did a classic double-take, his gaze glued on Cami.

  Rose sighed. Like all the Rock Royalty, she wore a mantle of careless glamour. Their tribe was comprised of wild yet elegant and exotic flowers. Around them she could only feel more like the common, boring rose.

  The man disappeared, his head still turned over his shoulder as he walked through the door.

  “Did you notice that guy checking you out?”

  Cami glanced up from her coffee. “What guy?”

  “Six feet, leather jacket, dark stubble. He wore a thumb ring and had pierced ears.” Rose frowned as the other woman started laughing. “What?”

  “Thumb ring,” she said, with a little snort. “Pierced ears.”

  “I never get the attention of the thumb ring guys,” Rose muttered, defensive. “I bet all your boyfriends have had thumb rings and wear earrings like pirates.”

  Cami seemed to consider. “I once dated a guy with a pierced…you know.”

  Instead of showing she was both appalled and intrigued, Rose gestured her closer and whispered. “It’s called a penis.”

  Laughing, Cami sat back. “I didn’t want to offend you.”

  Your brother wasn’t worried about that, Rose thought, remembering what he’d said, what he done.

  I think I should make you come for the first time right here, your bare ass against the cold glass while I eat out your sweet pussy with my hot mouth.

  “Are you all right, Rose?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Great.” A burning face didn’t mean anything was wrong.

  “I have to admit I have an ulterior motive for inviting you here.”

  Wary, Rose looked at Cami over her coffee cup. “Which is?”

  “Payne.”

  She wanted to groan. Yeah, he was merely her chiropractor, but that didn’t mean it was easy to talk about him right now, so close to last night. Didn’t a woman deserve a break? “I don’t really—”