She’d already made it clear that this date was a one-time deal, and she intended to stand by that claim. She’d also decided that at some point tonight she was going to tell Levi that she was leaving Chicago, probably within the next few weeks, and a statement like that was certain to put a damper on his future interest in her. And that, she told herself, was for the best.
She watched as a white, sporty four-door pickup turned into the lot and headed toward the store. As the vehicle neared, she clearly saw Levi through the windshield. Her heart began to race in her chest, and she suddenly felt like she was back in high school. And along with that thought came those same self-conscious feelings about what she was wearing.
Living in foster homes for the better part of her young life, most of her clothes had been second-hand—faded, worn, and always out of style. She’d never had pretty outfits, and even though she was currently on a strict budget, she’d splurged at Walmart and had bought a cute and flirty royal blue tank dress off the clearance rack for nine bucks. She’d found a pair of black, patent-leather-looking flip-flops—i.e., plastic—that had been stylish but only a few dollars. And even though she desperately needed the ends of her hair trimmed, she left it down instead of up in its normal ponytail. At least it was shiny and soft to the touch. But her outfit was still cheap, and she felt awkward as she waited for him to park.
As soon as he pulled in, she went outside to meet him, a huge smile on her lips despite her insecurities. He turned off the engine and immediately got out of the truck, and when he started toward her, she noticed the intense scowl on his handsome face. Before she could greet Levi, and without a single word from him, he took her arm in his firm grasp and escorted her to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened the door and helped her up onto the seat. As she buckled her safety belt, he hand-locked her door before closing it, then rounded the pickup to the driver’s side.
Once he was settled in his own seat, he glanced at her, still wearing that fierce expression, and she had no idea why. “Is something wrong?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah, there is,” he said as a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Can I just say that I fucking hate that you work here?”
Startled at the unexpected vehemence in his tone, she stared at him with wide eyes, not sure what to say to that.
“You’ve already been accosted by a robber, this is a crappy neighborhood, and I’m pretty sure those three guys over there are up to no good,” he went on gruffly, his gaze flicking to the men who had prompted her to wait inside the mart earlier. “Then you come walking out of that store looking so goddamn sweet in that dress, and all three of those assholes turned to leer at you. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t made it fucking clear that you were with me, they would have been all over you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. She might have no alternative, but she was grateful he cared enough to be upset.
He exhaled a harsh breath that seemed to calm him a bit. “Thinking about you working here at night gives me a goddamn ulcer,” he muttered as he shoved his fingers through his hair. “I. Fucking. Hate it.”
She hated it, too. So much, and even more after being held up with a gun pointed at her head. She’d even started having little anxiety attacks when certain people walked into the store, and she honestly couldn’t wait to have enough money saved so she could quit and move on.
“It’s only temporary, until . . .” The words came out before she could think them through. She cut them off, but she definitely caught his attention.
“Until what?” he asked with a frown. “Do you have another job lined up somewhere?”
“Sort of,” she hedged, not sure she wanted to start their date with the depressing news of her impending departure from Chicago.
He narrowed his gaze. “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”
“I’m leaving town in a few weeks,” she said, getting it all out in the open.
He studied her face too intently. “Why?”
“Personal reasons.” She tried not to squirm under his intense scrutiny and wondered if this was how a suspect felt while being cross-examined by Officer Kincaid. It was damn intimidating, but the last thing she wanted to do was drag him into her problems.
She waited for him to push for a better explanation, but after a long stretch of tense silence, he surprised her by backing off.
“Okay,” he said much too easily when she could see a dozen more questions still lingering in his gaze.
He started up the truck and turned back onto the street. Hating how quiet it had become between them, she tried to get things back to normal, or else it was going to be a long, awkward night.
“How are you doing and feeling?” She’d thought about him every single day, wondering if the pain had lessened, especially since he’d refused any narcotic medication.
“I’m still sore, but managing,” he said, his tone back to the Levi she knew—not the interrogating cop.
She took in his strong profile as he drove. Her gaze settled on his full lips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d had that thought, and she’d already decided that if he made the attempt tonight, she’d let him. If there was only one thing she could take with her when she left town, it would be knowing what Levi tasted like. She imagined the flavor of heat and all-consuming passion.
She felt a little pulse between her legs, and she folded her hands in her lap and rerouted her too sensual thoughts. “When do you go back to work?”
“Hopefully in a few weeks.” He turned his head, and this time there was a genuine smile on his lips. “My family is driving me crazy.”
She laughed, because she’d already met his brothers and could only imagine how boisterous the rest of his family was. “Lots of visitors coming by?”
He groaned. “You have no idea. I’ve put a permanent ban on anyone stopping by without calling first.”
“How did your parents take the news of you getting shot?” she asked curiously.
He visibly stiffened, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “My parents have been gone a long time,” he said abruptly. “It’s just me and my brothers.”
She didn’t miss the thread of bitterness in his voice, which struck her as odd, considering she knew how difficult it was to lose your parents and family members. But judging by his closed-off body language, he didn’t seem to want to discuss the issue further, so she wasn’t about to pry. Instead, she gave him the moment he seemed to need to gather his composure again.
After a few minutes passed, he exhaled a deep breath. “So, how does Italian sound for dinner?” he asked.
“Amazing,” she said, almost too eagerly. After living on ramen and bland meals for weeks, the thought of something so savory had her stomach growling in anticipation. “Where are we going?”
He glanced over at her and grinned. “My place.”
Chapter Four
Levi was taking her to his place. Sarah had mixed emotions about his announcement, because that meant they were going to be completely alone, instead of surrounded by people in a restaurant. Then again, this meant she had him all to herself for the night, and that made her . . . incredibly happy.
His two-story house was located on the outskirts of Chicago in what looked like a family-friendly neighborhood. On a late Sunday afternoon, kids were outside playing while adults were washing their cars, doing yard work, or sitting on their porch to enjoy the warm day. Levi waved to his neighbor as he turned into a driveway, then pulled the truck into the garage.
Once inside the house, she followed him into the kitchen. The decor was masculine, and from what she could see of the living room, there was a large brown sofa and ottoman, and a ridiculously large TV mounted on the wall. The kitchen itself was nicely laid out with upgraded appliances, and as soon as they entered, Levi set his keys on the counter, then turned around and started toward her.
The sudden sensual hunger shining in his eyes stole her bre
ath as he closed the short distance between them, and when he reached her, he settled his hands on her waist and gently pushed her back, step by step, until she was trapped against the stainless steel refrigerator. The cool metal against her back was a startling contrast to the heat emanating off of him, even though he’d yet to press his body against hers. And dear Lord, she wanted that. She craved the feel of him—every single inch. Badly.
He let go of her waist and cradled her face in his warm palms. He tipped her head back slightly, so her gaze met his, and she felt herself getting lost in those incredible eyes. The light green irises were mesmerizing. Gorgeous and hypnotic. She could stare into them forever. There was something in the depths as he looked down at her, something that made her feel safe. Made her want to trust him with all her secret hopes and desires.
She couldn’t miss the carnal need there, either. She’d never known lust before—had never experienced it and had definitely never seen it etched across a man’s features and directed at her. Two firsts tonight. Her limbs grew heavy with desire as the hottest, sexiest man she’d ever met stared at her mouth like he was ten seconds away from ravishing her. Excitement and anticipation swirled inside of her belly, and she hoped she didn’t have to wait much longer than that.
“First things first,” he murmured huskily as he skimmed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip, making them part as if on silent command. “If I don’t finally feel your mouth against mine, I’m not going to be able to think of anything else during dinner. So, to eliminate that distraction, I need to kiss you. Are you okay with that?”
Unable to form a coherent answer that didn’t sound like a whimper of need, she nodded her head. Oh, yes, please.
With a slow, sinful smile that made her insides liquefy, his head slowly descended toward hers, and she closed her eyes, wanting to make sure she memorized everything about Levi and this magical, seductive kiss. His lips brushed across hers, so tempting and teasing, and there was nothing she could do to stop the soft sigh that escaped her.
Needing more, she gave in to the urge to slip her tongue out to touch his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled up from his chest, and what had started as slow and sweet suddenly turned hot and wild. With his big hands still framing her face, his mouth took control, opening wide as he slanted his lips firmly against hers while his tongue swept deep inside, making her moan with delight.
The incredibly erotic taste of him filled her senses, and his woodsy, masculine scent wrapped around her like an addictive drug she knew she’d never get enough of. So she took as much as she could now, letting him kiss her as hard and deep as he wanted, and quickly learned that he wasn’t a man who did anything halfway. The pleasure was indescribable. Beyond decadent and arousing. The intensity was off the charts, and the way he consumed her, the way he claimed her mouth as if he owned it, was nothing short of intoxicating.
She had no idea how much time passed before he finally ended the kiss, but she silently mourned the loss of his lips as they left hers. She opened her eyes, realizing that only two parts of his body had touched her the entire time. His mouth and his hands on her face, when she’d fully expected, and wanted, to feel his hard, muscled frame pinning her to the refrigerator. The fact that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation was testament to this man’s impressive restraint.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his expression as dazed as she felt.
She managed a small laugh. “Yeah, that was so worth waiting for.”
“You were worth waiting for.” He glided his thumbs along her cheeks, which felt warm and flushed from his kiss. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight.”
Sarah knew she wasn’t a classic beauty, but the sincere compliment, combined with the adoring look in his eyes, made her believe it. If only for tonight. “Thank you.”
“I have a bottle of wine in the refrigerator,” he said with a smile, and to her disappointment, he let her go. “Would you like a glass while I make dinner?”
Ahhh, wine. Another luxury that she wasn’t about to refuse. “That sounds great.”
She moved away so he could retrieve the Chardonnay from the refrigerator, and she admired his backside—mainly his tight ass as he bent low to retrieve the bottle from the bottom shelf—in his soft, worn jeans. “What’s on the menu?”
“Chicken carbonara,” he said as he brought down a regular glass from the cupboard before giving her a pointed look. “Do not tell me you’re one of those women who only eats salad.”
She laughed. “Oh, my God, no. I love pasta.”
“Good.” Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he poured Chardonnay halfway into the tall glass, then brought it to her. “Sorry I don’t have wine glasses.”
“This will work just fine.” She took a drink of the cool, crisp, delicious liquid, watching as he recorked the bottle and put it back into the cooler. “You’re not having any?”
He shook his head as he started retrieving various ingredients from the refrigerator to make dinner and set them near the stove. “No. I don’t drink.”
She didn’t want to get in his way while he prepped and cooked the food, so she leaned against the granite counter on the other side of the stove from where he was working. “Wine, or alcohol in general?” she asked curiously as he pulled pots and pans from a cupboard and set them on the glass top burners.
“Any alcohol.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact about it, but as he’d also refused a prescription for narcotics, she suspected there was a whole lot more he wasn’t revealing when it came to liquor and medications. “Is there a reason why not?” she asked, genuinely wanting to know more. “Do you not like the taste, or did you have a really bad hangover that made you swear off of it altogether?” she teased.
He stopped what he was doing for a moment to glance at her, and there was something painful in his eyes that told her this was an emotional issue for him. “I’ve never had alcohol,” he admitted, his tone deceptively even. “But I saw enough as a kid with both alcohol and drugs to know they’re not something I’d like or enjoy. I know they hinder a person’s ability to think straight or logically, or function normally, and that lack of control is totally not my thing.”
She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d seen as a child that made him take such extreme steps as a man. Not to mention, there was that subtle issue with control again. Not in an abusive or aggressive way, but he’d just made it clear that it was important to him to always exercise restraint emotionally, mentally, and physically.
Why—on a deeper level than his pat explanation—was the question, and she found that part of his personality extremely fascinating. “Is that the reason you wouldn’t take the prescription for the painkillers from the doctor?”
“Yes.”
He gave her nothing more, so she let the subject go. After all, she had secrets of her own. She drank her wine, a little more self-conscious drinking it now that he chose not to, and watched as he chopped up the pancetta, then sautéed it with garlic and olive oil before adding the chicken to the pan to sear. He had one of those quick-boil burners that had a large pot of water roiling in no time flat. In went the pasta, and while that cooked, he whisked together the ingredients for the cream sauce. He didn’t use a recipe, and she was definitely in awe of his chef skills.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” she asked as he combined everything into one pan and stirred so the sauce coated all the spaghetti.
“Cooking channels and recipes on the Internet,” he said with a shrug. “When you grow up eating macaroni and cheese from a box and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then go on to eat tasteless MRE packs in the military, your adult palate craves food with more appetizing flavors.”
He’d just given her more bits and pieces of his past, and she stored the information away. “I’m so impressed.”
He grated a fresh block of parmesan cheese over the pasta dish, then took a fork and twirled the spaghetti and other creamy goodness around the tines. “Taste,” he said, and broug
ht it up to her mouth.
She let him feed her the bite, and it was beyond amazing. Her deprived taste buds rejoiced, and she was pretty sure her eyes had just rolled back into her head. “Oh, my God,” she moaned. “I need to marry you.”
As soon as the words came out—which were meant to be playful and flirty—her eyes widened, and he merely grinned.
“That’s kind of hard to do when you’re leaving town,” he teased right back, but she saw the disappointment and questions in his eyes.
Still, he didn’t ask, respecting her privacy as she’d respected his.
He served up two plates, then picked up their dishes from the counter. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
She followed him over to a small dining table with four chairs. After she sat down, he placed her dinner in front of her, then took a seat across the table. They ate for a few quiet minutes, and she savored and enjoyed every single bite.
“So, what’s your story, Sarah Robins?” he asked after a while, his gaze inquisitive.
He was leaving it up to her to tell him only what she wanted. They were both so cautious and wary when it came to sharing anything personal, but she felt comfortable with Levi, in a way that allowed her to trust him with parts of her past. Even the difficult, painful parts. And she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that she hoped if she divulged some things, he’d do the same.
“Well, I grew up in Barrington here in Chicago, and up until the age of eight, I had a great childhood,” she said with a smile, because those memories as a happy, carefree kid were the best ones she had. “Unfortunately, then I lost my parents, my younger brother, and my grandmother in a house fire that was started by an electrical shortage in the living room. From what I was told, the fire spread quickly at the bottom level, and by the time it reached the second story, where all the bedrooms were, the entire house was engulfed in flames, and there was no getting out.”
Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy #3) Page 5