Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

by Susan Mallery

  “What do you get out of it?” he asked. “To run my showroom?”

  “No, thanks. You don’t really need someone to run it. Once it’s set up, it’s just there to give people ideas.” She crossed her legs. “The bigger problem is time. You and Leo are busy enough without spending time with customers, especially when they can’t decide if they want wallpaper or a flush toilet. Hire a salesperson to handle the sales and follow up on the orders. I’ll oversee the renovation of the showroom and purchase the initial stock. I’ll come in a few hours a month to change things around and order in new samples.”

  She drew in a breath. “As for the interior design work, I suggest you offer a package. Customers can order everything themselves or they can work with me. I’d be contract labor. When I’m needed, I’d be here. Otherwise, I’m not on the payroll.”

  His mind worked quickly to process her ideas. “Would they order the finishes and fixtures through me?”

  “Why not? You’d be able to control quality that way and take a small markup. Even the pennies add up over time.”

  She was right about all of it, he thought, chagrined he hadn’t thought of it himself. A showroom made sense. As for a salesperson, they’d needed one for a while. Leo had mentioned it more than once, but Griffith had been busy with other things.

  He turned his attention to Olivia. “You’re staying?”

  “So it seems.”

  “Does Kelly know?”

  “I haven’t told her yet.” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. A few things have happened...” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to be living here and I think what you’re doing is interesting and fun. I’d like to be a part of it. Shall I write up a formal proposal?”

  Olivia had some balls on her, Griffith thought with a grin. “Sure. Give me a proposal for the remodel of the storefront, as well.”

  “You’ll have it within a week,” she told him. She rose and held out her hand. They shook. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “You’re welcome. I look forward to seeing what you can do.” He walked around his desk. “Oh, and you might want to tell your sister you’re planning on sticking around.”

  “I will. The trick is to keep the information from my mother for as long as possible.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Kelly waited nervously for Griffith to pick her up. She hadn’t seen him since their conversation about her, well, her issues, and she was more than a little apprehensive about the evening. She’d almost told him she couldn’t make it, except they were going to see her dad and Helen play with a new band and she felt as if she hadn’t seen her friend in forever.

  She paced in the living room, checking out the front window. Everyone was gone. Her dad was already at the venue and Olivia and Marilee were somewhere, although Kelly doubted they were hanging out together. From what she could tell, Olivia was avoiding their mother as much as Kelly was.

  Griffith arrived right on time. She went outside before he could come to the door.

  “Hey, you,” he said as she approached. “I’m supposed to come inside and explain my intentions to your disapproving father.”

  She laughed. “He’s not here, so you’re safe for the night.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Griffith pulled her close and kissed her. She knew that while they were kissing, he couldn’t talk about her clit or any other part of her anatomy so she relaxed in his embrace. His mouth moved against hers in a slow, sexy way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to him.

  She was wearing one of her Olivia-purchased outfits. Slim pants, cute little flats and a halter top that left most of her back bare. The material was silky and felt kind of nice on her bare breasts. She’d curled her hair again, but had passed on the makeup her sister had bought her. It was still confusing, although she had used mascara.

  Griffith moved his hands from her waist to her back. His fingers were warm and slightly rough against her skin and she shivered as he lightly traced her spine.

  He drew back and smiled at her. “What’s the musical theme tonight?”

  “Eighties movies. Madonna’s ‘Who’s That Girl’ and that song from Pretty in Pink.” She laughed. “Let’s all pause and imagine how excited my dad is.”

  “I’m sure he can barely contain himself.” Griffith put his arm around her and led her to his truck. “He’s a good guy, doing what he does.”

  “I think he and Helen enjoy helping out the new bands. Every now and then they get to play with real musicians, so that’s good.”

  There was a big crowd at the community center. “Everybody loves the eighties,” he said as he parked.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” She slid to the ground. “I wonder if Olivia’s here. I had the strangest email from her. She wants to meet with me at work tomorrow. She actually suggested a time, like there’s some formal agenda. Then I have an unexpected tourism meeting in the afternoon. I have no idea what that’s all about.”

  He held up both hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m not on the board.”

  “It’s the one place you didn’t invade in your attempt to win me.”

  He took her hand. “Don’t mock my tactics. They worked.”

  “They did, and doesn’t that make you all smug.”

  “I’m only a little smug.”

  They walked inside and found seats in the back. The band was mostly men and women in their thirties and forties. Griffith had high hopes for them which were only slightly dashed with the first song.

  “Madonna would not be happy,” Kelly murmured as the drummer messed up the beat and the lead singer couldn’t find the right key. She saw her dad and Helen exchange a private smile as the other two guitarists got lost in the bridge.

  Just before intermission, Jeff and Helen took center stage with a duet of “If You Leave.”

  “I love this song,” Kelly whispered to Griffith. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. As her dad and Helen began to sing, she became aware of Griffith moving his thumb along her upper arm. The movement was subtle, but steady. The contact felt nice.

  She did her best to return her attention to the stage and her friend singing. When they were done, she and Griffith walked up to talk to Jeff and Helen.

  “You sounded fantastic,” Kelly told her friend as she hugged her. “I love that song.”

  “I know. We did it for you.”

  Kelly turned to her father. “Surviving the eighties?” she asked.

  Her dad sighed. “I lived through them once. That was enough.”

  “I’m sure John Hughes would be very proud that you’re celebrating his movies.”

  “He doesn’t need me,” Jeff grumbled, then nodded at Helen. “We’re, ah, going to grab a bite after the show. Some, ah, friends are joining us so we might be late.”

  “No problem. I won’t tell Mom.”

  Kelly meant the comment to be teasing, then realized too late it was probably in poor taste. Her father’s mouth flattened and Helen turned away. Kelly guessed her friend was trying not to roll her eyes in public. Helen had always been supportive of Kelly’s dislike of her mother, but she hadn’t meant to remind her dad of what was happening at home.

  “Sorry,” she told him.

  “It’s fine. She can do what she likes. I don’t care.” He put his hand on the small of Helen’s back. “I need to get this one some water. She has a big solo coming up.”

  Kelly sighed as they walked away. “I shouldn’t have said that. About Mom.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, my brother’s still not talking to me.”

  “I guess that helps a little. I just hate being socially awkward.”

  “You’re not. Want to get out of h
ere?”

  She nodded and he led her back to his truck. He drove to his place and took her inside. After pouring them each a glass of wine, he sat next to her on the sofa.

  “Still beating yourself up?” he asked.

  “No. I wish my mom would go back home but that’s all. Tell me what’s new with you?”

  “I’m thinking of expanding my business. I heard the storefront next door is going to be available. I’ve talked to the landlord and the price is good.”

  “What would you do there?”

  “Have a showroom with different options for finishes, along with a completed tiny house as well as my cross sections showing construction.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “It wasn’t even mine.”

  Before she could ask whose it was, he leaned in, took her wine from her and put it on the coffee table, then kissed her. She relaxed into his touch, letting herself absorb his nearness. When he stroked his tongue against her bottom lip, she parted for him. He slid inside and began that slow, sexy dance.

  She liked how Griffith kissed. He moved his tongue against hers in a way that invited rather than took. His lips were firm yet soft. She felt his attention to detail and sensed he enjoyed the process. It was more than a pit stop, it was its own destination.

  He drew back enough to nibble his way along her jaw, then down the side of her neck. The light scrape of his teeth on her skin made her shiver. Her small breasts grew more sensitive with every kiss and the silky fabric both aroused and irritated her nipples.

  “This is one sexy top,” he murmured as his hands moved up and down her arms. “It had me distracted all evening.”

  “That was the point.”

  “Then it’s a success. From what I’ve been able to figure out, you’re not wearing a bra underneath.”

  She smiled. “No. You’d be able to see it if I was.”

  “And these two hooks are the only thing holding it up.”

  “So it seems.”

  “Nice.” He straightened. “Look at me.”

  She did as he requested. When their eyes locked, she felt his fingertips lightly touch her nipples. Not her breasts—just the tight, sensitive tips. Her breath caught as need and heat wove through her.

  “I’m not going to say the C word,” he began, “so you can relax.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I don’t want you to have an orgasm.”

  She blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Not tonight. It would be too much pressure.”

  He lightly pinched her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Sensation shot through her and she had to fight to keep from gasping.

  “O-okay.”

  “Instead we’re going to play. I want to try different things and you tell me if you like them. Sometime later we’ll put it all together, but tonight is just one big experiment with no pressure.”

  While she liked the sound of that, she wasn’t completely convinced it would go well. Not that it was easy to think when he kept touching her nipples. She loved what he was doing and couldn’t helping thinking how much better it would feel if he undid her top and sucked on her. Hard.

  The image filled her brain, of his head bent and his mouth closing over her. She wanted that. She wanted to feel his mouth on her and—

  “Kelly?”

  “Huh?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Um, sure.”

  He dropped his hands to his lap. “What are you thinking?”

  She felt herself blush and wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. Not just because there was a problem with her having an orgasm like a normal person but because she couldn’t even talk about what she wanted him to do.

  This was Griffith. He liked her. He wanted to please her—of course he would want to know what she was interested in. Dammit, she ran a successful multimillion-dollar business. She was smart, capable and there was no earthly reason why she couldn’t simply tell the man she was dating that she wanted him to suck on her breasts.

  Except the thought of doing that left her feeling humiliated and nauseous.

  “I can’t please you if I don’t know what to do,” he said gently.

  “My breasts,” she managed to say, motioning to the front of her chest.

  He smiled. “I like them, too. Can you unfasten your top?”

  She had a feeling the question was more about getting her to participate than him worrying about the closure. She nodded and reached behind to her neck and undid the hooks. The material fell, leaving her naked to the waist.

  Griffith made a low, guttural sound in the back of his throat before leaning in and taking her left breast in his mouth. He sucked as deeply as she’d imagined, pulling pleasure from every part of her. He swirled his tongue and sucked again, then moved his fingers against her right breast. She arched into him and groaned.

  He switched breasts and repeated the process, then drew back and blew air on her damp skin. The blast of cool made her laugh and break out in goose bumps. He pulled her to her feet.

  “Let’s take this upstairs.”

  They hurried to his bedroom. As he started to undress her, Kelly felt herself getting tense. She reminded herself of what Griffith had promised her. No pressure. Just an experiment, which she had to admit was going really, really well.

  He waited while she stepped out of her shoes. Her pants followed, as did her bikini briefs. She was about to point out that while she was completely naked, he was still dressed, only he startled her by dropping to his knees.

  The movement was so unexpected, she didn’t know how to react. Before she could ask what was going on, he eased her legs apart, leaned close and kissed her. There!

  Her breath caught. Yes, Sven had done that a couple of times and her college boyfriend had, too, but not for very long and never in that position. There was something about standing, or trying to stay standing while he licked her.

  The sensation was delicious—more hint than full-on contact. She parted her legs a little more and wanted to hang on to something, only she was standing in the middle of the room, with no furniture around and grabbing onto Griffith’s head seemed rude.

  So she did her best to stay balanced as his tongue darted forward and back, lightly touching the very center of her. With each teasing second of contact, desire zinged through her, making it harder and harder for her to stay standing.

  She swayed a little bit and had to consciously steady herself. Her muscles were far more interested in what was happening between her legs than in anything else, forcing her to point out that falling would not be pleasant for any of them.

  She tried parting her legs more, wanting him to get to it, but nothing about his movements changed. The silly little whispers of his tongue on her clit made her groan and strain toward him. But it seemed as she moved closer, he moved away.

  “Griffith,” she breathed.

  “Yes or no?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  He stood and pulled off his shirt and jeans, but left on his briefs. She waited for him to move toward the bed, but instead he circled behind her and began kissing his way along her shoulders. His fingers moved from her hips to just below her breasts. They circled without touching anything good. One hand moved down and played between her legs, but again, on the periphery.

  Need grew until her blood heated. She felt restless and achy. She knew what she wanted and that it wouldn’t happen, but still. He could try. She wanted him to try.

  She squirmed to get closer, but he was behind her and there was nowhere to go. She felt his erection against her rear—at least she knew he was as affected as she was, and while that was comforting, it didn’t do anything for the tension building inside of her.

  Finally, when she thought she
was going to have to scream instructions, they moved to the bed. He touched every inch of her body, except where it really mattered. He stroked her arms, her cheeks, behind her knees. He tickled her feet, rubbed her thighs. He danced along her rib cage, her collarbone. He kissed her mouth but he didn’t even bump into her breasts.

  She felt herself starting to go mad. Her breathing came in pants as need thundered. She was aroused to the point of pain and the man wasn’t doing anything. She wanted to grab him and shake him. She wanted to—

  He nudged her wrist, moving her hand until her fingers rested on her upper thigh. She snatched it back and opened her eyes.

  “Griffith,” she began.

  “Feedback loop.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll get a feedback loop. I won’t. We’re experimenting, remember. You said it was okay.”

  Her cheeks were on fire. “Not to do that.”

  “Give me three minutes, then we’ll stop. Please. It’s important to me.”

  She started to tell him she couldn’t possibly. She’d never done that by herself, let alone in front of someone. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. A couple of times in college, she’d tried it and nothing had happened, so she’d given up. She simply wasn’t built like everyone else and she was fine with that.

  He pressed his hand on top of hers, moving her fingers in a slow circle. The pressure on her swollen clit captured her attention and she found herself minding slightly less that this was happening. Her eyes closed.

  “Maybe faster,” he whispered. “Or a bigger circle. You play. I want to do this.”

  This turned out to be slipping a finger inside of her. She liked how he moved in and out of her, how he went a little faster, then slower as if he were trying to keep time with...

  Holy crap! She was doing it. She was touching herself. That was what he was trying to keep tempo with. Her! Because while she’d been thinking about him moving his finger in and out, she’d started rubbing, searching for the right rhythm that would... Okay, not make her come, but would feel the best.

  She rubbed a little harder, feeling the very base of her swollen clit. She parted her legs and pushed down as Griffith slipped in again. There was something just out of reach. A feeling or sensation or promise. She wasn’t sure she could get there, but she was determined to try until she couldn’t anymore.