by Taryn Quinn
And PMS was still on the phone, chatting away as if he had all the time in the world.
I glanced over my shoulder, only to discover he was listening to the other end of the line while studying my ass equally intently. His head was even cocked. When he realized I was watching him, he grinned and pretended to look out the window.
He was not cute. I shouldn’t grin at him as if he was. But I couldn’t help myself.
This was probably due to some biological imperative. If a guy made you come enough times in rapid succession, your body figured he was a decent sort so weird things started occurring all on their own. Like my smiling at him dopily while I tried to tuck my papers under my dress as I backed off the bed.
Luckily, he decided to return to the living room, so I shoved my sketches into a drawer and decided I’d take a quick shower.
Escaping into my bathroom also bought me some time to prepare myself to deal with him. Conversations after sex could be a minefield, and we didn’t know each other that well.
Even if certain parts of me were getting very acquainted with parts of him.
I moaned out loud when the cold water hit my oversensitized body. I’d gotten more action in one day than I’d gotten all year.
When I couldn’t stall any longer, I finished up and toweled off before slipping back into my dress sans panties, since they were currently missing. The whisker burn on my chest was still vivid, so I lathered up with some of the honey rose cream I’d picked up from the apothecary in Luna Falls. My bestie liked to claim the town was made for her, so we’d gone a few times.
My fingers lingered on my breast for an extra moment, imagining Preston’s intense dark eyes lasered on mine while he sucked on my nipple. I had to appreciate his dedication in some areas.
And I seriously needed to get a grip. Fawning over PMS’s skills in the sack—even in my own head—was not on the agenda.
I tied my crazy hair on top of my head as I walked into my bedroom, coming to a halt at the sight of my boss stretched out on my bed.
He was still on the phone. What the heck could Mary Donnelly have to say?
“She just covered herself in some kind of witchy potion that smells like a bakery. Do you women all just know what to mix up to make men beg?”
I blinked as he laughed, sounding far more cheerful than I was used to. Then again, great sex had that effect on most males.
“Right. I know. Actually, there’s something else in it too.” Eyes closed, he lifted his face as if he was scenting the air. “Floral. Usually, she smells like a garden blooming at night. This is fresher, sweeter. Almost innocent.”
“Who is that?” I hissed.
If he was talking about my scents with a client, I was probably going to kill him. And he’d thank me tomorrow once the afterglow faded and he came to his senses.
Why hadn’t it faded yet anyway? I wasn’t sure how long I’d slept, but the shadows in the room were longer and sunset wasn’t far away.
“Hang on. She’s annoyed again.” He laughed at whatever the person on the other end of the line said, then held out the phone to me. “It’s your best bish, as she called herself.”
As a rule, I wasn’t someone who blushed. My coloring made that more difficult, for one, and I also didn’t get embarrassed that easily.
Score one for PMS that he managed to make me flush from my hairline to my coral-painted toes with one sentence.
I took the phone and closed my eyes as I moved into the living room.
“Don’t say it,” I said in an undertone.
“Say what? That your boss is all cozied up in your place?”
I’d just ignore her question. “I thought you had a full slate tonight.”
“I had a cancellation. So, guess I’m not the only one playing my cards close to the vest, hmm?”
“I’m not playing any cards—what? What cards are you playing?”
“How good was it?”
“Amazing,” I said before her laughter told me I’d spoken without thinking. But hey, it had been. “PMS, you better not be eavesdropping,” I called over my shoulder without looking in his direction.
I so didn’t want to know.
He hummed a little tune. “Nope. Just looking at the amazing view.”
Luna must’ve heard the ass because she was laughing again. And so was I.
Then I realized I was talking to my best friend on Preston’s phone, not my own. “Wait a second, why did you call him? How did you call him?”
“He called me.”
“What?” I whirled to stare at him, but he was conveniently facing toward the window, hands clasped innocently behind his back. “Why?”
“We, ah, actually texted a bit yesterday. My doing,” she said hastily. “I gave him a hard time. You know, protective bestie. But he called me tonight to ask what kind of date you’d like. Gotta say, Ry, he sounds like the total package.”
Warmth spread through my midsection, and I wrapped an arm around my belly. I was not going to be swayed by him. “He’s a package of something, all right.”
His tune increased in volume.
“And obviously, he’s got some skills, since you’ve got O voice.”
“I do not.”
“You so do. And the first time can be awkward, so that’s a very good sign.”
“Try second,” I whispered.
PMS and his bat hearing heard me just the same, since he added a swivel of his hips to his song.
“Really?” Luna’s screech broke the sound barrier. “You know you’re going to share after your date, right? You better.”
I wasn’t going on any date. I didn’t think.
My stomach growled. Then again, I could eat. If he wanted dinner, we could just eat in the same place.
Not a date. Just like Denny’s hadn’t been a date. Just mutual food consumption.
“You too. I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.”
“It wasn’t a thing. Then it maybe could might be.” She let out a breezy laugh. “We’ll see. Just focus on you. Have a good time, okay? Don’t overthink it.”
“Thanks, but too late there.”
I clicked off and returned his phone to him after smacking his upper arm with it. “Why were you texting with my best friend yesterday?”
“She texted me after you sent her that photo of us. I need a copy of that.”
“Uh huh. Texted you about what?”
“She was worried about you.” He pocketed his phone without looking at it. “I tried to abide by her wishes.”
“Which were what?” I asked uneasily.
I did not like people in my life talking with other people in my life without my knowledge. Besides, how could anyone know what was best for me when I didn’t have a clue myself right now?
He skated his thumb over my lower lip. “She cares about you. I tried to stay away.”
I glanced at the tangled sheets on my bed. “So, this is you showing restraint?”
“Actually, yes. If I hadn’t shown restraint, we would’ve been on that conference room table by Monday afternoon.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yet now you’re asking my best friend about what kind of dates I like.”
He shrugged and dipped his hand into his pocket. “Well, I had an idea in mind. But if she knew something you loved, I’m not averse to suggestions.”
I studied him for a long moment, taking in his handsome features highlighted by the sun. His dark hair messy from my hands, his surprisingly full mouth, the black slash of his eyebrows and carved line of his jaw all added up to a hell of an attractive picture. Beneath his austere surface, he had hidden slices of sweetness that came out at unexpected times.
And every time, they rocked me.
“You were asking for her approval,” I said once I could speak around the lump in my throat. “She’d warned you off, but you had no intention of going.”
“I tried.” He shifted toward me. “But I can’t seem to stay away from you.”
I wanted t
o be flippant. The last thing I wanted to do was to behave as if this made any sense. Lust at first sight—or at first type—was one thing. Chemical reactions couldn’t be explained easily. But this wasn’t that. Or not only that.
I didn’t know what the hell this was, and that scared me to death.
When I looked away, he cupped my cheek and brought my gaze back front and center. “Will you come over to my house?”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.” He covered my lips with his fingertip. “Let’s just spend some time together.”
The same question sprung to my tongue but I forced it down. Tomorrow was my last day at work. I hadn’t been on a date in a long time. Not that this was one.
Ugh, I was sick of my brain.
“Okay,” I said finally.
His grin was quick and entirely too charming as he nudged me out of the room with his hand on my lower back. “Great. I have food waiting at home.”
“I thought you wanted to ask Luna what I liked?”
“Well, yes, but I had a contingency plan.”
“Of course you did, PMS.”
He pinched my ass as I grabbed my sunglasses and my purse, making me laugh as I evaded him. While he was taking out his key fob, I slipped on my sandals and discreetly tucked a mini-sized tarot deck into my bag.
We’d see if he warranted a reading tonight. The jury was still out.
We walked down to the street, talking about the Donnelly case and how he’d rescheduled the signing with the notary for early tomorrow. He said it as if he didn’t expect me to be punctual, which I took offense to considering I’d been early today.
Of course I’d also left early, but I still felt like it was a moral victory. His penis was directly responsible for my unintended absence in any case.
I came to a halt beside an eye-searing red convertible with black leather seats and every amenity known to man. “Look at that. Someone’s showing off their money. Probably a dick compensation toy. Jeez, donate to the homeless or something, why don’t you?”
Preston lifted his wrist to do something on his smart watch, and the convertible purred to life. It took me a second to realize he hadn’t just wanted to check the temperature.
He’d started the car with his watch. The dick toy.
“Think so?” His tone was mild as he took my elbow and guided me toward the vehicle. “You might want to reconsider that assessment.”
“And I might not. What the hell? Where did you get this?”
His brow arched as if I was a cranky child. “From the dealership. I didn’t steal it, Miss Moon.”
“But what about your grandpa car?”
“Careful, you’ll make my head swell with all this praise. Assuming it even can.”
“Is that a sex joke?”
“Is it?” He circled the hood without bothering to open my door.
After my diatribe, he’d probably decided manners were overrated. I wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong.
I slid into the car and tried not to moan at the buttery feel of the leather against my legs. It was hot as Hades out, so it shouldn’t have felt so sinful. I couldn’t help looking at all the dials and gauges and popping open the glove compartment to ooh and aah over the space.
What didn’t have a lot of space was the backseat.
“Barely even enough room for a carrier back there.” I clicked on my belt as he signaled into traffic.
He didn’t respond, but his acceleration to the next light was a little…excessive. As was his cornering and the force of his braking.
I shoved my sunglasses higher on my nose and tried not to wiggle into the bucket seats. This car had some serious power, and it was evident even on the city streets. The warm wind felt like heaven blowing back my hair, and I couldn’t help fiddling with the incredible sound system. The bass was intense. He wasn’t playing with it, so why shouldn’t I?
To be an ass, I put it on the hair metal station. He didn’t so much as flicker a long dark eyelash.
His silence was like a cushion of disapproval. The hot curves of the car, sexy leather seats, and great music pumping from the truly magnificent speakers couldn’t dent it.
He still didn’t speak as he pulled into a long driveway a little while later. The house came into view slowly, surrounded by trees and dappled by the oncoming sunset. I glimpsed a lot of fenced-in space in back and a wide wraparound porch on at least three sides. The second level had a couple of small porches too. Light reflected off the many panes of glass, almost blinding in the late day sunshine.
The car rolled to a stop at end of the drive, and I realized I was clutching my purse with both hands as he turned it off.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why ever for?”
“You’re entitled to spend your money however you choose.” I shoved back a piece of hair the wind had tumbled into my face. “You work hard, and hey, I’m all for trading in your grandpa car for this sweet little ride.”
“Glad to hear you approve.” He climbed out of the car and walked around the back.
I shut my eyes and wanted to bind my own tongue to the roof of my mouth. Maybe then I wouldn’t say such thoughtless things anymore.
Then again, probably not.
He waited for me on the walk, one hand tucked in his pocket. He didn’t reach for me as we ascended the steps to the porch. Nor did he speak as he unlocked the front door and let us into a large, sunlit foyer with an old, expensive-looking rug over gleaming hardwood. A stained glass window on the stairs leading to the second level shot colorful rays in all directions, adding a soft, diffuse light to the space.
“You have a lovely home. A home for a family.”
“Why do you sound accusatory when you say that?” He dropped his keys in a crystal dish on a café style table with inlaid stained glass tiles.
“I didn’t mean to. Just this is a lot of house for a single guy.”
“Still wondering if I have a wife stashed away somewhere? Maybe a couple of kids?”
“Can you blame me for wondering how a catch like you isn’t taken?”
“Probably because I’m trying desperately to make up for my perceived inadequacies. Come on.” He headed down a couple of steps into a huge sunken living room with more walls of windows and a fireplace with a carved mantlepiece meant for hanging Christmas stockings.
I took a minute to get myself back in line. PMS unnerved me, and when I was off-balance, I tended to say snarky things. But I couldn’t help considering why a man who’d been single for so long would buy a large house created with a family in mind.
Unless that was what his end game was. Work himself to death now, settle down with two-point-five kids later.
And a tripod cat, who was currently nowhere in sight.
I reached up to grip one of my dangling smoky quartz earrings. They would start me on the path to grounding myself, but I clearly should’ve stacked on my armor. Bracelets, necklace, possibly a giant She-Ra style belt made of fluorite.
A blur of gray shot down the stairs and into the foyer. Was I seeing spooks? Then I realized what I’d witnessed wasn’t a ghost.
“Hiya Smoky.”
He pranced over with his three-legged grace to sit on my sandal. I rubbed his head. “I was wondering where you’d sequestered yourself.”
“Probably one of the closets.” PMS turned around in the living room to look at us. “He’s been enjoying exploring. This morning, I found him on top of the curtain rod.”
I laughed and picked up the cat, tucking him against my chest. To my surprise, he decided to settle himself over my shoulder, so I turned around to let him face PMS.
“That cat loves you.” He sounded resigned. “Are you sure he wasn’t meant to be yours instead?”
“No, he was meant to be—”
Ours. The sentence formed in my head without conscious thought. But conscious thought was sure as hell keeping me from saying it.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“Haha. Funny.
” I tipped my head against Smoky. “Let’s take a tour so you can feed me. I hope you’re well stocked. I had a microwave meal for lunch so I’m famished.”
“Yeah, well, I ate half a sandwich outside the judge’s chambers this afternoon. I think we’re equally hungry.”
Somehow when his voice dipped, I wasn’t thinking of food.
I cupped Smoky against me more securely as we roamed through the house, but he seemed perfectly happy with his new perch. And I liked having him to hold on to.
Together, we examined the place. Gleaming dark wood was offset by neutral colors that created a serene oasis, sheltered from the outside world while still bringing it inside through the myriad windows. There were a couple of fireplaces and I even spotted a windowseat in the den, piled with cream-colored pillows that looked like they’d never been used. There was a wall of bookshelves filled with colorful leather bound books, and I yearned to roll over the library-style ladder to explore.
But instead of focusing on most of Preston’s beautiful home, I was far too aware of how often his elbow bumped against mine or the feel of his broad palm low on my back as we climbed the stairs to the next floor. His warm breath fluttering against my ear while he pointed out the view from the master bedroom made me think of things that had nothing to do with the glittering curve of Crescent Lake in the distance. I wanted to check out the view from the telescope on the balcony but I was clutching the cat for all I was worth. Something about the gigantic bed with its pale blue, obviously high thread count sheets intimidated me and I couldn’t stop staring at it.
“Tired?” He stroked the cat, his gaze locked on my face. “You didn’t sleep long earlier.”
“I’m not in the habit of sleeping at dinner time, so no, I’m fine.”
“Maybe you’re thinking of other reasons one might use a bed…”
“No,” I said too quickly, and he laughed as he led me down the hall to yet more bedrooms, all with high ceilings and massive windows that let in the maximum amount of light. Night had fallen now, so he turned on lamps as he went.
Making my throat ache with every step, even if I had no clue why.
“Are you planning on having a baseball team? I can’t see any reason for so many rooms.”
“It’s an investment.”