Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13)

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Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Page 65

by Heather Wardell


  At the end of the meal, one bite of delicious pecan pie remained on the plate we'd been sharing, and we both reached for it at once. I backed off, and Howard scooped it up then held it out toward me. "All yours," he said, his eyes intent on mine and hungry for more than pie.

  Suddenly hungry too, I opened my mouth to him and he slid his fork slowly inside. The heat blazing between us would have been more than enough to bake the pie, and it left me so turned on that when we walked out of the restaurant I drew him into a doorway so we didn't block the sidewalk and kissed him.

  I hadn't initiated any of our kisses so far, and the way he growled deep in his throat told me he'd noticed and he liked what I'd done this time.

  I did too. He returned my kiss harder and with more passion than we'd shared before, and as it went on I felt my body coming to glorious life almost immediately.

  When we broke apart, he smiled at me, his eyes lit up with happiness and a desire that sent even more shivers through me, and said, "Care to go back to my place for coffee?"

  I laughed. "We had coffee already."

  "Tea, then?"

  "Sure. But at my place, okay? Need to feed Stella." I didn't have any milk for the tea, but I doubted that mattered. All we both wanted was more kissing.

  The cat bolted into my bedroom when we arrived, but her hunger overruled her fear of Howard and she came creeping out when I poured her food.

  "Don't reach for her," I said to him as she crunched away. "She won't run if you don't."

  He smiled. "I'm learning how the Ryder women operate, don't worry." He took my hand and led me to the couch. "Besides, I'm much more interested in you at the moment."

  We sat close together and he slid his hand around the back of my neck. The caress made the heat I'd felt at the restaurant flood me again, and I again kissed him before he could kiss me.

  As we kissed, his hands roamed my back and shoulders and occasionally skimmed my sides, sending delicious sparks through me, but he didn't try to move around to my front and I appreciated it. He wasn't pushing me like he had before. He finally understood.

  Eventually, though, I needed more than just kissing, and I found myself taking hold of his hand and bringing it to my breast.

  He drew back, eyebrows raised. "You sure?"

  In answer, I brought his other hand into play too then began kissing him again, and was soon whimpering as he drove me wild through the fabric of my shirt and bra. I loved the feel of his hands on me, and finally being ready for this made me even hotter. I still couldn't imagine getting naked with him, letting him see my legs, but I was making progress and it felt amazing.

  We carried on for a long time, until a faint "mew?" made me break away and laugh breathlessly.

  "Sorry, Stella," Howard said, half-panting. "Were we ignoring you?"

  She gave him a cool look then walked away, but I was delighted to see she'd come so close and wasn't running from him.

  I wasn't either, and I was delighted about that too.

  He turned his attention to me, leaning in to nuzzle my neck and whispering, "Wow," into my ear.

  I shivered. "Yeah, exactly."

  He kissed me, hard and deep, and after a few moments his hands slid over my ribs but stopped just beneath my bra.

  I pulled them up.

  He murmured, "You're okay with that?" against my lips.

  "Yes. God, yes," I gasped, shuddering as he squeezed me. "No more than that for right now, but yes. Please. Don't stop."

  He laid a line of kisses down my neck, leaving my skin on fire where he'd been. "Your wish is my command. I won't stop."

  And he didn't. And I didn't even consider commanding him to.

  *****

  We spent Thursday evening in a glorious repeat of Wednesday, locked in each other's arms and kissing and caressing with even more hunger. When his hands went to my breasts almost immediately I not only didn't stop him, I undid my bra for him and pushed his hands beneath my shirt, gasping with pleasure at his unobstructed touch.

  The physical sensations were wonderful, but again I was almost happier with the fact I was able to let it happen than with what his hands and kisses were doing to me. I really was getting better. I trusted him, and I could finally begin to let go.

  Eventually he looked at his watch and said, "I should go soon."

  I turned his wrist so I could see the time. "I guess so. Busy day tomorrow." I'd be spending a large part of my day with Mike and I did need my sleep to be ready for that.

  "So, soon or now?"

  I looked into his dancing eyes. "Soon. Not now."

  "Excellent," he said against my lips and we were soon lost in each other again.

  As he teased my nipples and drew a line of tiny bites down my neck, I dug my nails into his back through his shirt and mumbled, "I can't wait to go further. Feels so good. I can't wait." It'd still be a while, but when it happened it would be amazing.

  "Me either," he breathed into my ear. "You're gorgeous." Then he kissed me again, cutting off any further conversation, and we didn't come up for air for a long time.

  Friday morning we met for breakfast and he kissed me outside the office with the same passion. Out in public, in the real world, it felt wrong to let him do it but it woke up my body immediately anyhow.

  "Have a good day," he said when our lips parted. "Are you free tonight?"

  I smiled at him. "You bet."

  "Glad to hear it." We started to walk toward the office door, then he caught my arm and turned me toward him. "One more. Just to keep me going until tonight."

  I giggled and kissed him, then we did finally make it into the office.

  Jake arrived only seconds later, which made me wonder if he'd seen us, but his "Happy Friday, everyone" sounded calm and unembarrassed so I hoped he hadn't. He knew Howard and I were involved, of course, but that didn't mean he had to see it.

  Unfortunately, it didn't turn out to be a happy Friday. Mike and I were working on a sex-assault scene from his book, and focusing on the tiniest details of his words meant that I had to visualize the scene over and over to see what worked best. That, of course, made the acts being committed so real I couldn't fight off my memories of what Christophe had done.

  We all went out for lunch so I got a bit of a respite, but afterwards we were right back to that scene then on to the next one, in which the assailant spied on the victim's group therapy session and gloated as the victim described the pain she was living with, and by four o'clock when Mike left I was as exhausted as if I'd been the victim in his book.

  "Alexa?"

  Surprised, I looked up at Jake. I hadn't heard him push his chair back and come over to me. "Yes?"

  He smiled, his eyes soft. "I wondered if you wanted to go get coffee. The others are busy and I'm craving a cappuccino."

  I glanced around the room. Sure enough, Rosanna and Howard were in Rhonda's office and Carly had her headphones on and was apparently deep in a task. "Yeah. I'd like that. I could use a break."

  He didn't comment on that then, but on the street he said, "How's Mike's book coming along?"

  I sighed. "The book is great. Working on it stinks."

  He gave me a half-smile-half-grimace. "I can imagine."

  He didn't say anything else, and it both surprised and pleased me. Nearly everyone else had told me to give up the book. Howard hadn't, but because it was good for my career not because he thought I should be working on it. Everyone had expressed an opinion, except Jake.

  Once we were seated in the coffee shop with our cappuccinos, I couldn't stand not knowing what he thought any longer. "Most people think I should give up Mike's book, because of my history."

  He nodded. "Makes some sense."

  When he didn't say any more, I did. "What do you think?"

  His forehead creased. "It's up to you."

  "Yeah, but..."

  He sipped his drink then said, "I think you know what you can handle. It looks to me like you're doing okay with it, but what matters is whether yo
u think you are."

  I leaned back in my chair. "It's hard," I admitted, as I hadn't to anyone else for ages. "It's... graphic, let's say."

  "I heard a bit about it when Rhonda agreed to publish it. James, the editor before you who found the book, said it was pretty tough to read but also worth the effort."

  "Yeah." I nodded, slowly at first then more definitively. "It is worth it. He really gets inside that guy's head. The bad guy doesn't get the punishment he deserves, but Mike makes it work somehow. He's a great writer."

  Jake smiled. "And you're helping him be even better." His smile faded. "But you matter more than the book. You said it was hard. Do you think it's too hard?"

  I considered this for several long swallows of my drink. Jake sat silently finishing off his own drink and didn't push me. I appreciated it.

  Eventually I said, "No." It felt right, so I said it again. "No, I don't. It's hard, but I can handle it. I feel like I should do it, and even though it's hard I am doing it. And it's getting easier."

  Jake's smile warmed me more than the cappuccino had, and I wanted to ask him something else. "Do you think it's weird that I'm not uncomfortable with Mike?"

  "Do you?"

  I laughed. "You're like my old therapist. No answers, only questions."

  He laughed too. "Sorry. Honestly? No, I don't. He writes fiction. Sure, it's dark and scary fiction, but he made it up. It's not..." Jake blinked twice. "Ah. I get it. If he could make it up, that means he's the kind of guy who could think of it. And then maybe he could be the kind of guy who'd actually..." He nodded. "I see your point. But you don't feel uncomfortable with him?"

  I shook my head and told him how I'd felt at ease with Mike even right after his words had made me physically ill.

  "We pick up on all sorts of stuff unconsciously. That's what happens with my sculpting." He grimaced. "When it's working, anyhow. I find myself adding things and having no idea where they came from. We have instincts we don't understand. And yours think Mike is okay. So he probably is."

  I rolled my eyes. "My instincts stink."

  He gave me a mock glare. "They do not. They smell like... cappuccino mixed with roses."

  I laughed. "That's kind of a stink, isn't it?"

  He glanced at his watch. "We should go. And no, it's not a stink. That's my dream coffee house."

  We headed back to work, debating what the best possible smell of a coffee house would really be, and at the door he said, "Your instincts don't stink, you know. You've made tons of good decisions since I met you."

  "Yeah, right. Name three."

  "You're on. Getting Stella."

  I smiled. "Okay, true. But that's only one."

  "Patience, woman. Two, keeping Mike's book even though it's hard because you feel like it's right. Three, letting yourself trust Howard. It can't be easy to start a new relationship after what you've been through."

  I blushed. "It's not. You think he's a good guy?"

  "Seems to be. And it's pretty obvious he likes you."

  I blushed further, now sure he'd seen us that morning, and he blushed too.

  Then we laughed together and he said, "Want more reasons?"

  "Nope." I reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Thanks, though."

  He smiled. "Any time, Alexa."

  He held the door open for me and I headed back to my desk thinking of how sweet he was and how glad I was that he'd been able to come up with good decisions I'd made, but Howard stopped me before I got to sit down.

  "Hey, there. I made reservations for tonight. Can I pick you up at seven?"

  "Sure. Where are we going?"

  "It's a surprise." He winked. "Dress nice. And trust me."

  I smiled at him. "I do."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I stared around in amazement as the elevator whisked us up into the sky.

  "Scared?"

  I shook my head. "It's incredible."

  "You've never been up here?"

  I shook my head again, then we stopped talking to listen to the elevator operator's spiel.

  "The CN Tower observation deck and 360 Restaurant are 350 meters above street level, and on a clear day you can see as far as Niagara Falls."

  It wasn't quite that clear now, but through the elevator's glass front I could see the big buildings of Toronto and Lake Ontario laid out before us.

  The elevator eased to a stop and we emerged at the reception desk of the restaurant. I'd known about this restaurant before, known about its most interesting feature, but seeing it still made me breathe, "It's rotating."

  Howard wrapped his arm around me. "Neat, eh?"

  It was. We were given a table right near the window and I neglected both Howard and my menu for the first few minutes because watching the stunning view change moment by moment as we slowly revolved was fascinating.

  "No such thing as a bad view here," Howard said, his voice full of amusement. "At least, not for long."

  "I know. It's so cool."

  "I have a great view right now."

  I made myself look away from Lake Ontario and back at him to see where he was looking, to see him staring directly at me. I blushed. "All that stuff to see and you're bothering with me?"

  He reached out and took my hand. "Nothing else comes close to you."

  I rolled my eyes, but he sounded sincere and it touched me. "Well, then you might need glasses. But thank you. Do you know what you're ordering?"

  I opened my menu and stifled a gasp at the prices. This would not be a cheap dinner.

  "I'm getting lobster," he said. "And you get absolutely whatever you want. This is a special dinner."

  I looked back at him. "It is? Why?"

  He chuckled. "Because I can't afford to bring you here often so we'd better enjoy it while we can."

  We did. The food was utterly amazing, the red wine he ordered spectacular, and the view as the sun slowly set on Toronto and the city's lights shone was something I'd never imagined possible.

  When we'd finished eating, he said, "Want to go outside on the observation deck? Or are you afraid of heights?"

  I shook my head. "Not even a little afraid, and yes."

  After spending a while outside peering through the security mesh to see the world around us, we went back inside and I stood on the special glass area of the floor. Staring down between my feet, I could see the base of the tower and the stadium next door laid out beneath me as if I were hovering in mid-air.

  "God, you're brave," Howard said from his position on the regular floor.

  I laughed. "Come on, the sign says the glass can hold a hippo. Are you saying I'm heavier than a hippo?"

  He reached out and caught my hand to pull me off the glass and to him, then kissed me lightly. "No. I'm saying you're brave. And gorgeous."

  We kissed again, still short because there were people everywhere but with more intensity, and when we parted he said, "Ready to go?"

  "Unless you want to try the glass floor."

  He laughed. "You're the brave one, I'm afraid. Hey, they let people walk around outside the tower on harnesses now. Up above the restaurant. Just you and the harness and a metal floor like a subway grating. You'll have to try it some day."

  He was joking, but I loved the idea. The security mesh had frustrated me, and being able to see freely without it sounded wonderful. "Yes, we will."

  He cuddled me close and began leading me to the elevator. "No, ma'am. But I'll cheer you on from the ground."

  We were soon back on that ground and I hugged him hard. "Howard, thank you. It's been an amazing evening."

  He kissed me, deep and hungry and a little too passionate for the still-busy street, then said, "It's not over yet."

  "I couldn't eat another bite."

  He smiled, and to my surprise I realized he was nervous. "Not what I had in mind."

  "Then what?" I said, wondering what was bothering him. "Coffee?"

  He reached into his pocket, then pulled something out and stuffed it into my h
and. About the size of a credit card but thicker and with no embossed numbers.

  I held it up to the light of a streetlight so I could read it.

  Starlight Toronto Hotel.

  Confused, I held the room key back out to him. "Is this yours?"

  He cleared his throat. "I hope it's ours." He touched my cheek. "You've been so much happier and more relaxed since New York, and now that your ex has been sentenced and it's all over you've been even more open to..." His fingers drifted onto my neck. "Other things, let's say. I thought we could celebrate by spending the night together."

  "Spending the--" I began before realizing what he meant. My heart began pounding so hard it hurt. "You got us a hotel room? So we could have sex?"

  "Make love," he said softly. "You've put all the crap behind you now so I thought you'd be ready to--"

  "Crap?"

  He took a step backward, and I pursued him, so shocked and angry I could hardly think. "Everything he did to me physically and emotionally, you mean? All the pain I went through? That's what you're calling crap?"

  "You went through it," he said, emphasizing the word hard. "In the past. You're okay now." He took hold of my shoulder. "I'm not trying to belittle you or what happened, not at all. I just think you're ready to move on."

  A rush of thoughts and emotions silenced me for a moment. One tiny part of me thought what he'd done was romantic, but the rest...

  I took a deep breath, and said, "Yeah. So do I."

  Then I undid the necklace he'd given me, laid it on top of a nearby mailbox, and turned and walked away from him.

  Chapter Thirty

  I considered calling in sick on Monday but knew I'd have to face Howard eventually.

  He had followed me, of course, after I'd left him on Friday night. He'd hurried along behind me, apologizing and begging me not to be angry at his misunderstanding and telling me we could just fool around a bit then fall asleep together in the room.

 

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