Taming Mr. Flirt

by A. m Madden

  She watched as I nodded, considering her admission. “Okay. I get that. One thing, then. I just need to know one thing, and I’ll let you tell me the rest at your own pace.”

  For a second I thought she was going to tell me no. And then she said, “My parents are divorced and can’t stand each other. That makes for an awesome Christmas, birthday, or any other life events that occur. I have a stepsister who quickly became my father’s favorite once he married her mother.” Her pause had me thinking she was done. I remained silent, and she continued. “My own mother is bitter, nasty, and hates men. Oh, and I was given a cute puppy on my tenth birthday. It was after they got divorced as a consolation prize. Only a few months later, he was hit by a car. The only thing I did have going for me in high school and college were my looks and sparkling personality, and both made me very popular for the wrong reasons. That pretty much sums things up.”

  “Did that hurt to admit?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Maybe tomorrow you’ll tell me two more things,” I teased.

  “Kyle, you know more about me than most of my friends do.” She jumped out of bed in a panic. “Oh, shit. Speaking of, they’re going to kill me.”

  “Why?”

  “I missed yoga. It’s because of me they are starting a new studio today.” Standing naked at the end of the bed with her phone in her hand, she frowned and shook her head. One thing she wasn’t was shy. “Fuck, I missed like ten messages.”

  “Do you want to go to yoga?”

  “Of course not. I hate it.”

  “Then don’t go. Text your friends. You’re busy all day, you have the flu, whatever.” I reached for her, pulled her back to bed, and held her face. “Thank you.”

  Her expression softened, and a smile played on her lips. “After I was a complete bitch to you last night, you’re thanking me?”

  “Not a complete bitch. Shit, woman, I won’t be able to think of peanut butter the same way ever again. Speaking of peanut butter, I’m starving. After we fuck, I’ll take you out to eat and then we’re going grocery shopping.”

  “How fun.” Her eyes rolled up and she added, “What then? Laundry?”

  “No, not laundry.” Before she could respond, I bent my head and sucked on her bare nipple while gripping her ass. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  “I think I need more time to prepare for that,” she said, clenching her butt cheeks beneath my hand.

  “Not that… but that’s coming. Something crazy and you’re just the person I want to do it with.” She didn’t look scared or worried. Instead, a slow smile spread, and in that moment I knew I had her back. “You’re just going to have to trust that I’ll blow your mind.”

  “Okay, Mr. Cleary. Blow my mind.”

  Chapter 17

  Vanessa

  Having Kyle in my apartment felt foreign. Mainly because men didn’t hang out in my apartment. If they did, it was never during daylight hours and never in the morning. Truth be told, in spite of my complaining about him breaking the rules, I liked him there. He moved around my place comfortably, making himself at home.

  In some cases, we were exactly the same, and in others we were polar opposites. For example, he easily opened up to me and shared personal information. His admissions rolled right off his tongue, yet when he prompted me to follow, the words felt like shards of glass that could cut my tongue if they were to leave my lips. Oddly enough, I was able to reveal some things I never had, and as I did, speaking them out loud didn’t cut me up like I expected them to.

  The girls, who I was sure were irritated with me for blowing them off, didn’t even know half of what I told Kyle. Hell, Cassie was the only one who even knew about my arrangement with him. Brae and Desiree would most likely be upset with me, but technically it was their fault. If they were at breakfast the day after the Halloween party they’d be privy to this information.

  I stood in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, waiting for Kyle to emerge from the bathroom. A slight squeak of the door hinge alerted me that I wasn’t going to be alone for long.

  “Shit,” Kyle murmured. “Fucking button.”

  When I turned to look at the gorgeous specimen of a man, he held his right foot, which was bare and oddly sexy in his hands while hopping on his left one. I would have laughed if he didn’t look so hot. His shirt was open, his pants rested low on his hips, and the way his lats flexed rendered me stupid.

  Out of the blue, he asked, “When is your birthday?”

  “Why?” I grabbed a cup from the cupboard. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please. Because I have a gift I want to give you.” When I narrowed my eyes, he shook his head. “Mine is February twelfth.”

  Just like last night, he offered his info before I said mine. “You’re like Honest Abe.” He lowered his brows. “Lincoln?”

  “I know who Abe Lincoln is. I’m still waiting for your date.”

  “August seventeenth.”

  With a few careful strides he stood in front of me, taking his cup of coffee off the counter. “Well, then I’ll get it for you for Christmas.” He glanced at my less than neat countertop.

  “What is it that you’re so eager to give me?”

  He lowered the mug from his mouth, his lips twisted into a smirk. “That’s a loaded question, Nessa. But what I’m referring to is the gift of tidiness.”

  Just as I was about to ask him what the hell that even meant, he bent over and picked up another button off the floor and handed it to me. “Hey, this is your fault. You’re the macho man who decided to destroy one of my favorite blouses.”

  “Am I also the one who had a granola bar yesterday?” He lifted his mug before he nodded his head toward a wrapper I had left on the counter. “And wasn’t Halloween a week ago?” I placed my hands on my hips, knowing he referred to the black boots I wore that night that still sat in the corner.

  “I’ve just been busy. Plus, it’s just me here. I’m not a complete slob. I happen to know where everything is.”

  “Of course you do because it’s all out in the open.”

  This subject needed to change. “Please save your money. I’ll take care of it. My asshole of a boss is going away, so I can sneak out early and clean.”

  Kyle set his mug down with a devilish gleam in his eyes, “I know a better place you can sneak off to.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me toward him.

  “I think you’ve had enough ideas. Don’t we have things to do today?”

  “Yes, why don’t you go get ready and then we’ll go to my place so I can change before we start our day… and night.”

  “About that, you do realize we’ve been together…” I glanced at the digital time on my microwave. “Seventeen hours now.”

  “Time flies when you’re having hot, mind-blowing sex.” His eyes flickered with humor, along with his teasing words. “Fine. Point taken. I’ll go to my place alone, get ready, and then I’ll be back in two hours to pick you up. While I’m gone, do what you need to do, tell whoever you need to tell, we’ll be gone about twelve hours.”

  “Are you kidnapping me? Do I need to pack a bag? Tell my friends I’m with you in case I don’t return?”

  “Actually, packing a bag would be a good idea. I’ll leave it up to you what you tell your friends.”

  “I was only kidding about the kidnapping.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  I came to the conclusion Kyle was a wacko. He insisted on the grocery shopping, stocking my fridge and pantry not only with basic supplies, but most of the things he liked to eat as well. I was now the proud owner of a one liter bottle of imported maple syrup. The thing was huge, and I actually had to ask if he planned on bathing with it.

  Of course, a tiny fleck of awkwardness over the fact he bought shit that he planned to eat gnawed inside me. But I reminded myself it was just syrup, it wasn’t like he took over a drawer or left a toothbrush at my place.

  Afterward, he left me at my apartment. And even though I ha
d enough food to now feed my entire building, he insisted on taking me out to dinner. I had two instructions—be ready at seven and wear a short skirt. He poo-pooed my gripes that it was cold out, telling me to wear a long coat.

  I could only imagine what he had planned, but referring back to my belief he was a wacko excited me with all the possibilities. The man had no inhibitions whatsoever. Many times during the day, he’d reference places that would be perfect locations to engage in one sexual act or another. It was obvious he was turned on by voyeurism. Since that had always been something I wanted to try myself, I was more than willing to go along with whatever he had planned. Provided he didn’t get us arrested.

  He picked me up at seven on the nose and stunned me silent when I opened the door. My impromptu coma lasted no more than five seconds, but during I couldn’t formulate one thought in my head other than he looked incredible.

  The navy sport coat he wore over a sky blue shirt made his eyes look even bluer. Dark denim hugged every sinew of his long lean legs. And his cologne was by far the sexiest scent I’d ever smelled on a man. Woodsy, fresh, clean, all combined into one perfect aphrodisiac.

  My long black coat hid my clothing from his perusal, but that didn’t stop him from combing over me from head to toe and back. When he leaned in to kiss me, he pulled away and smirked. “No perfume tonight?”

  “Nothing appealed to me,” I admitted. It was the damn truth. Since meeting him, I’d become much more sensitive to the brands I normally favored. As he confidently stated at Jude and Brae’s wedding when he guessed I had on Miss Dior and that it wasn’t the right scent for me, I also now felt the same. His adorable boyish smirk when he took my hand as we headed for the stairs meant he was onto me.

  We didn’t say much to each other as we left my building and walked a short block to where he parked his Tesla. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more so a comfortable one. During the ride, he gave me little information on where we were headed except we’d first be having dinner, and then we’d be having fun.

  Once over the George Washington Bridge, it only took five minutes to get to our first destination. It was an adorable small colonial house that had been converted into a romantic Italian restaurant. The candlelit tables, linen tablecloths, and mood music softly playing over the speakers made it all seem like a date.

  When he took my hand, alarm bells rang reminding me of our rule regarding no lovey dovey-ness. Yet, I held my tongue, not wanting to piss him off by mentioning our “stupid rules” once again. Whenever I did, he countered with an excuse. Since we were there, and the smell inside the foyer as we waited to be seated made my stomach growl, I rolled with it.

  Our coats were taken and we were led to a small round table in what would be considered the dining room of the home. There were a few others dining among us, but the tables were spread enough where it didn’t feel crowded.

  Kyle pulled my chair out and winked when I raised my brows. He read my mind, and clearly he didn’t care. His eyes immediately zoned in on the tight knit ivory sweater I wore. I watched him rake his gaze down my body, stopping at my short flowing skirt. It barely covered past my mid-thigh when I sat, which explained why he loitered beside me a bit instead of taking his seat.

  When I took the linen napkin off my plate and draped it over my thighs cutting off his peep show, he mumbled, “Cute.” Moving to sit across from me, our eyes met and held. The way his pale blue eyes drilled into mine caused me to squirm in my chair. “You look amazing, Nessa. I can’t wait to get to the second part of our evening.”

  A formally dressed waiter appearing with a bread basket stopped a response on my part. “Good evening, and welcome to La Tua Casa. My name is William, and I’ll be your server.”

  “Hi, William,” I said cheerfully. He dipped his head and threw me a stunning smile.

  A busboy dressed in the same black slacks, vest, and bow tie filled our water glasses just as handsome William handed us each a small menu.

  I took in his sandy brown hair and clean shaven face as he rambled off the specials. The way he spoke directly to me before announcing he would give us a few minutes to decide was very flattering. Had it not been for Kyle sitting across from me, I probably would have flirted back. I had to hide my smile when I saw Kyle follow the man’s path into another room with a scowl on his face.

  “Do you know him?” I asked innocently.

  “Never saw him before. He must be new.” His eyes studied the menu for less than a minute before he closed it and placed it beside his plate.

  “It smells incredible in here.”

  Kyle nodded. “I love this place. There isn’t a thing I haven’t tried.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “One of my clients turned me onto it a few years ago, and I’ve been coming back ever since.”

  “It’s adorable.” I glanced around, taking in the quaint decor. There couldn’t have been more than ten tables total in the small rooms that made up the first floor. “What’s upstairs?” I asked, remembering the classic staircase that led from the foyer up to a second floor.

  “An office and the bathrooms. It’s not a big place. In the summer, they do have tables on the outside patio. We’ll have to come back; it’s cool the way they have it lit up with tiny lights in the evenings.”

  Come back? I could barely think of my life eight days from now, let alone eight months from now. Again, I held my tongue and smiled before taking a sip of my water. If he noticed that I avoided responding, he didn’t let on. Instead, he began telling me what he planned to order for both of us.

  “You’re assuming I eat everything or don’t have allergies?”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. No.”

  “Then we’re good.” He leaned over the table a bit and lowered his voice. “I kind of assumed you did eat everything. Call it a hunch.”

  “You know what they say about assuming, Mr. Flirt. And for the record, I don’t eat veal. Baby cows are too cute.”

  The waiter appeared beside us, and his grin meant he heard me. “So, no veal special then?” When his hazel eyes met mine and lingered, I no longer was positive the grin was over the fact I didn’t eat veal. “What will you be having instead, Miss?” He waited with a poised pen on his pad, his gaze still steadily holding mine.

  “To start,” Kyle responded firmly, catching his attention. Once he had it, he leveled him with a glare before saying, “We’ll each have a bowl of your minestrone soup. She’ll have the linguini arrabiata, and I’ll have the pollo parmesan. Also, please bring a special order of focaccia with the soup, and a bottle of your Brunello di Montalcino.” Kyle held his menu up for the gentleman to take and waited for him to retreat back to the kitchen before he murmured, “Prick.”

  Three things occurred at that moment. First, Kyle speaking Italian—even if it was just food—was super sexy. Second, Kyle showing a jealous side was even sexier. Third, I liked points one and two far more than I should have.

  Chapter 18

  Kyle

  “Ice skating?” Her eyes were lit with excitement as we pulled into the lot. We were in Paramus, New Jersey. The rink was in its usual crazy crowded state for adult night. Knowing what I had planned for us had me equally excited, but it wasn’t my eyes that were lit up. “What is this place?”

  “I found it years ago when I moved to New York City. The rinks in Manhattan are all overcrowded. I came here during off hours to get in a workout and keep my skating skills sharp.” I offered her my hand and walked into the building. Bass from the loud music vibrated around us. “The second Saturday of the month there’s always a theme. Based on Rick Springfield singing Jessie’s Girl, I’m guessing it’s 80s night.”

  “I love 80s music.”

  I smiled at her adorable reaction to my plan. “Then tonight’s your lucky night.”

  It took a few minutes to pay our admission and check our coats. I led her to the skate rental, and she traded her sexy ankle boots for a pair of white blades. “You’re lucky I
wore socks tonight.”

  “If you didn’t, they sell socks here. Come.” The bar set up for the twenty-one and older crowd was three deep. “Do you want a drink now or later?” I said directly into her ear, competing with Bon Jovi’s rock scream.

  She leaned toward me and shouted back, “Later. I’m still buzzing from the wine.”

  Taking her hand, I tilted my head toward the rink and she nodded. Many of the female skaters dressed for the occasion, sporting anything from Madonna inspired outfits to Joan Jett. Vanessa fit in perfectly with her tight fitted, boob enhancing, sweater and short flowy skirt. Her toned legs looked amazing, and the skates on her feet were their own turn-on.

  Surprisingly, she had great balance and admitted to having had skated a time or two in her high school days. Hand in hand, we took a few laps with the other adults looking to capture their youth.

  We weren’t necessarily there for that reason. What I hoped to capture tonight was a side of Vanessa that could lead to so many possibilities. The rink was oblong in shape. The entrance on one end was flanked with skate rental and refreshments in each corner. Restrooms and a lounge area were found in the far right corner. The far left corner was just that, a corner. A railing surrounded the rink, and a narrow walkway allowed you to exit any of four locations.

  The strobe lights slowed, darkening the rink. Tiny circles of light danced on the ice as the music changed to Crazy For You by Madonna. Single skaters exited the ice, but the couples continued to hold hands. Not wanting to be the same as the others, and maybe to show off my skills, I pivoted my body until I skated backward. Vanessa smiled, which I was sure was because of my suave move. With her hands on my shoulders, and mine on her waist, we glided around the ice as if we were on a ballroom floor.

  At one point in the song, Vanessa closed her eyes allowing me to take control. That alone assured me this was the best idea I could have had for our night out—and we weren’t even at the best part yet.

  When the song ended, it morphed into Push-It by Salt-n-Pepa. The ice once again filled with skaters, but this song encompassed what I wanted to do.