by Tina Donahue, Bella Settarra, Michelle Roth, Jennifeer Denys
He considered the offer for a split second and said, “I’d love that. Do you need help?”
“No, no. It’s easy. Linguine and clams?”
“Sounds great,” he said, already anticipating dinner. “I just need to call and have someone look in on Stanley tonight.”
“Stanley?”
“I have a dachshund. My neighbors will probably be able to let him out to do his business and feed him. I just need to ask.”
Stella gave him a smile and then said, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
After he had talked to his neighbor, he wandered into the kitchen and breathed in deep. “That smells awesome.”
“Just butter and garlic so far, Ian. You’ve got low expectations,” she said, laughing.
He watched as she moved efficiently around the kitchen and said, “Damn right. Since my divorce, I’m happy with anything that doesn’t come out of a tin or packet.”
“Poor man. Learn to cook. You’ll eat so much better,” she said as she dumped in a small tub of clams, juice and all.
“Is there anything I can do,” he asked. “I feel a little guilty freeloading a meal off of you at this stage. I was planning to wait until at least day four of repairs.”
She rolled her eyes at him and squirted some red stuff into the pan. “Nope. You sanded all day. Just relax.”
“What’s that,” he asked.
“Tomato paste.”
He frowned and asked, “In a clam sauce? Hmm. Okay.”
By the time dinner was done, and it had been amazing, he was relaxed. She’d opened a bottle of wine with dinner. When they had ended up on the couch, talking, he could have easily forgotten that he was stranded here. Even in the mostly empty house with a virtual stranger, he felt more comfortable than he had in a while.
He had been startled out of a lull in conversation when she asked, “So how come you don’t open a shop of your own? Why book through the agency?”
He hesitated for a moment before he said, “I don’t have the time to run the office and all of that. It seemed like a fair trade to let someone else handle booking the work while I just do it. Less tax hassle to be an employee. Besides, I went into business with my ex-wife years ago. When we split, the business fell apart.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she said softly.
“It was for the best. We married too young. She found she was enamored with fancy-free, twenty-year-old Ian and not so much with conscientious, bill-paying, twenty-eight-year-old Ian.”
“Better to know now than to spend years being polite,” Stella said.
Ian nodded. “Exactly. And what about you?”
“Oh. I’ve got no problem with running a business. I’d much rather be creating, but it’s a necessary evil.”
Sometime during the conversation, they had shifted on the couch so they were facing one another.
He shot her a bland look and then said, “I wasn’t asking about that, Stella. Is there a Mr. Whitman hiding away somewhere?”
She flushed at his obvious question and said, “God, no. I spend most of my free time focused on my art. I don’t have time for a Mr. Whitman.”
He laughed and said, “I looked at your website the other night, by the way. The glass stuff was really quite pretty.”
They talked for a few more minutes before she glanced at the clock and said, “Wow. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
“Me neither,” he agreed as he blinked at the clock in surprise. Half past eleven.
“I’m going to get a drink and then head upstairs. Did you need anything else?”
He waved her off and said, “No, not at all. Thank you again. The couch will be much better than my van.”
He followed her into the kitchen, his boots long gone. His socks slid along the hardwood floor as he trailed behind her. When she stopped at the refrigerator, he waited behind her patiently while she grabbed a bottle of water. Instead of shifting to the side as he had expected, she backed into him and then made a startled sound.
His hands automatically reached out to her shoulders and steadied her. He felt the same damned electricity he’d felt the first time they’d touched.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I thought you realized I’d followed you in for a drink.”
She turned around, forcing him to drop his hands. Her green-gray eyes stared up at him. Unable to stop himself, his gaze dropped to her mouth. As much as he wanted to touch her, to kiss her, the rational part of his brain wouldn't allow it. Instead, regretfully, he said, “I don’t think this is such a good idea, Stella. Mixing business and pleasure.”
He saw a flicker of hurt and then she said, “You’re probably right. I’ll … uh … see you in the morning.”
Before he could speak, she fled upstairs. He considered going after her but in the end, he just got a drink and then settled in on the couch. He tried his damndest to sleep but could only think of Stella.
Chapter Five
Stella sighed as she pulled the cotton T-shirt over her head. She didn’t quite understand Ian. One minute he was open, and laughing with her. After she had bumped into him in the kitchen, he had completely shut down on her. There had been no smile. No conversation. He had claimed that it was a bad idea to start anything, and frankly he wasn’t wrong. Why had he asked if she was with anyone if he hadn’t been fishing, though?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested. Signal received.
In the kitchen, she hadn’t imagined the look on his face before he’d spoken to her, or the feeling of his hands on her. He had been interested in that moment, she would have sworn it.
She shook her head as she pulled back the covers and slid into bed. Spending the evening with him, getting to know more about him hadn’t helped in her quest to maintain a professional distance. It was no matter, though. In a week or two, his time would be done here. Then he’d move on to another job and she’d stop fantasizing about him. Maybe.
When she closed her eyes, she could feel his hands gripping her upper arms. She could still see the look of intense need in his eyes. She let out another deeply frustrated sigh. Sleep would be a long time coming, tonight.
Eventually, in the late hours of the night, she managed to doze off. Burrowed under the duvet, she drifted along peacefully until she awoke to a heavy thud on her chest. She let out a terrified scream as she felt something scurry across her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark just in time to see a dark streak and little glowy eyes disappear off the edge of the bed.
Stella flew up and out of the bed, shaking. She hovered near the doorway of her bedroom, trying to catch her breath.
Seconds later she heard the sound of feet as Ian hurried up the stairs. As he stepped through the doorway of her bedroom, his eyes wide, he asked, “Stella? What’s happened?”
Her voice thready, she answered, “Something jumped on me, and then I think it might have run under the bed. An animal. I left the window open and…”
Ian glanced around the bedroom and spotted a broom. He moved toward the edge of the bed and used the handle to lift the edge of the valance, and carefully stooped down. Even in the dark, he must have seen whatever was under there because he started to move the broom handle under the bed.
Stella backed further into the hallway when she heard noises coming from underneath the bed that sounded distinctly unhappy. Seconds later, a thin, gray cat with matted fur launched itself from underneath her bed, hissed furiously and scurried back out into the rainy night. Its eyes had glowed an eerie yellow when the thin beam of light from the other window shone across its face. She shivered. Poor thing. She hoped it found shelter somewhere. Just not under her bed.
Ian shut the window, turned to her and said, “Mad little guy. Are you all right? No scratches?”
Adrenaline still rushed through her veins, but she said, “I’m fine. Clearly, the window will stay closed from now on.”
A smile pulled at his lips as he said, “Heavy duty screens. When I go to the DIY tomorrow, I’ll pick them up.”
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“Thank you. I don’t know how I would have dealt with that, but…” she said, her voice a little shaky.
He moved toward the doorway, where she stood, and then leaned the broom handle against the chest of drawers. His voice husky, he said, “You’re welcome.”
She moved to the side so he could walk through the door. Instead of leaving, he stood in front of her for a moment and ran his fingers gently across the side of her face in an attempt to comfort her. Then as if he had remembered himself, he dropped his hand and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Stella looked him in the eye and said, “But, I wanted you to.”
His hand still at his side, he inspected her face. She didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but evidently he seemed to find whatever it was. He asked, “Are you sure?”
Her eyes steadily on his, Stella brought her hands up to his shoulders, pulled him toward her and said, “Stay.” She felt a heady rush of excitement when his body relaxed against hers.
“You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to touch you,” he said, his lips just a whisper above hers. “Desperately. Ever since I caught you singing in the garden.”
Before she could react to his statement, Ian dipped his head and pressed his mouth against hers. At the first brush of his lips, Stella felt the same jolt of awareness she had felt when they touched in the kitchen earlier. Even though his mouth moved gently, almost cautiously against hers, she couldn’t help but let out a hum of pleasure. Her hands moved into his hair, tunneling through the thick curls as she tried to pull him closer.
On a low groan, he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue until she let him inside with a small sigh. His tongue delved into the recesses of her mouth, slowly exploring her, just as his hands were. His fingertips trailed along her curves through the thin cotton of her shirt until they settled low on her hips. He gentled the kiss, and then nibbled his way along her jawline until he reached her earlobe.
She let out a soft whimper when she felt his teeth lightly nip the sensitive bit of skin. Stella let her hands roam his back, sliding under the shirt he wore. When she traced the intricate muscles of his back, he pressed his hips forward. She felt his hard cock nudging the softness of her belly.
“Stella,” he mumbled against the side of her throat as his hands began to roam again. “I want to see you.”
She felt a flutter of nerves race through her at his request. She’d always been a little but heavy, and it had never really bothered her. The thought of seeing disappointment in his eyes was more than she could bear, though. Her eyes still on his, she stepped back and took a deep breath.
Lust flared in his eyes as he watched her began to remove her shirt. She was surprised when he reached out to still her hands for a moment and said, “Slowly.”
Her breath clogged in her throat. Following his instruction, she very slowly eased the hem up. As the light fabric dragged over her flesh, she could feel the heat in his eyes. He was watching, absorbing every detail. It was as if he was trying to memorize her.
When she was finally able to slide the shirt over her head and discard it, there was no question in her mind as to whether he appreciated the view. Here, standing with Ian in the dim light of the bedroom, she had never felt more beautiful. More sensual.
His hands moved to cup her ample breasts. As his thumbs stroked over her nipples, he said, “Oh, love. I had no idea you were hiding these under those baggy jumpers. You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in his words and the sensation of his work-roughened hands teasing her tender flesh. She let out a small whimper as he began to gently pinch and pull at the tight peaks. When she called his name, it came out as nothing more than a breathy sigh.
As his hand traced its way down her slightly rounded belly, she opened her eyes. His gaze was still zeroed in on the flesh that he intended to reveal next. Turnabout, she realized, was fair play. She reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slid it up his gorgeous chest. There was a sprinkling of hair, but it was smooth for the most part. His hands stopped momentarily and then tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it into the darkness somewhere behind him.
She blinked at the stark black tattoos that covered his chest. She traced her fingertips over the intricate tribal patterns and then said, “Wow. This work is amazing.” She let her hand drift down to the front of his trousers, gripped the rigid line of his cock in her palm and stroked him gently through the fabric. Ian groaned.
When she leaned forward and traced over the lean muscles of his chest with her tongue, she felt him shudder against her. As her mouth worked its way down his stomach, she could feel the muscles involuntarily clenching and unclenching. He inhaled sharply as she nipped the top of his hip bone with her teeth and then sank down to her knees in front of him.
Stella took in the sight of his muscular chest as he drew in labored breaths. God, he was beautiful. As she unzipped his trousers and slid them down along with his shorts, she watched his cock spring free. Leaning forward, she traced her tongue over the head, moaning as she tasted the salty pre-cum.
She gripped him in her palm and began to stroke him as she flicked her tongue across the tip, teasing him. Ian let out a low moan when she finally took him deep and said, “Bloody hell. Your mouth.”
Taking him deeper into her mouth, Stella felt his hips jerk as he nudged the back of her throat. When his fingers twined through her tangled tresses to gently cup the back of head, she let out a sound of appreciation around his cock.
“Look at me,” Ian ground out. When she looked up at him through the fringe of her lashes, he said, “Fuck. I don’t think I’ve seen anything as sexy as your pretty pink lips wrapped around my cock.”
Stella felt a wave of arousal wash over her at his praise. She drew him further into her mouth and cupped his balls in her free palm. Gently, she massaged them as she continued to stroke him with her hand and mouth. The grip on her hair tightened as she swirled her tongue against the sensitive underside of his thick cock. She let out a moan as the sharp bite of sensation went straight to her core.
His gaze darkened as he held her head immobile and began to work his hips against her mouth. “Christ,” he uttered as his cock slid into her mouth once more. She swirled her tongue against him again and he said, “Fuck, yes. Like that. Just like that.”
Though he guided the motion of her mouth, she continued to flick and swirl her tongue until he eventually pulled away from her mouth on a groan. He said, “Much as I’d love to come down your lovely throat, I’d rather be inside you, Stella.”
Ian released his grip on her hair and helped her to stand. They were both breathing heavily as he slid down her knickers and moved them toward the bed. As she moved to slide back into the bed and under the covers, he flipped them back.
“Don’t hide that beautiful body from me. If I wasn’t so on edge right now, I’d take my time and explore every inch of it. As it is, you’re not getting to sleep anytime soon.”
“No?”
“No,” he said, as his heated gaze raked over her.
She felt more naked than ever when he crawled onto the bed next to her. He hadn’t climbed on top of her as she had hoped and expected. Instead, he propped himself up on one arm and traced his fingers all over her skin. His fingertips brushed against her breasts, creating a trail of goose bumps in his wake.
Stella had never been so turned-on by seemingly casual touches. She rolled her hips, trying to ease the ache as his hands drifted along, doing nothing more than touching her skin. She was on fire.
“Stella,” Ian said, his voice strained. “Your skin is so lovely. So soft.”
The steadiness of his gaze and the almost reverent tone of his voice caused her to whimper. Her pussy was soaked and her clit was throbbing. She was desperately in need of release. Finally, able to take no more, she said, “Ian. Please.”
His hand, which had been stroking her belly dipped between her thighs. As his fingertips gra
zed off the small thatch of hair above her slit, she raised her hips in a silent plea.
Ian slipped his fingers in between her drenched folds and explored her pussy. He slowly swept his fingers across her clit, then pressed his fingers into her tight channel. He let out a soft groan and said, “You’re so wet, love. So tight. I want to bury myself in this tight little pussy so badly. It’s been all I could think about for days.”
She raised her hips and worked them against his hand, and moaned, “I want you inside me, Ian. Be inside me. I ache.”
He removed his fingers from her, a pained look on his face and said, “I didn’t exactly plan for this. I don’t have a condom. I really hope you’ve got one.”
“I do,” Stella said. She rolled over and pulled an unopened box from the bedside table. Opening it, she tore one off the strip and handed it to him.
Without any further ado, he tore open the package and rolled it over his hard length. He settled himself in between her thighs, his cock nudging against her opening. With one hand, he framed her face. The other guided him slowly inside her.
When he was buried fully inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled her hips experimentally against him. She felt so full. So stretched.
The groan that left Ian sounded almost pained. His eyes fluttered closed as he said, “Don’t move, or this will be over quickly, Stella. It’s been a while since…”
Stella saw the strain on his face and the words just fell from her lips, “For me too. I’m already on the edge. You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.”
Ian shook his head as he began to slowly work his hips against hers. He said, “I know, Stella. Every single time I saw those pouty lips of yours, I couldn’t help but think of them wrapped around my cock. That beautiful round ass of yours. I kept picturing it rosy pink from the palm of my hand. I wanted to fuck your tight little pussy with my tongue, my fingers, my cock … until you screamed so loud you were hoarse from it. And then I wanted to do it all over again.” His hips slapped against hers now, punctuating each word as he said, “I—have—every—idea.”