by Ami LeCoeur
My eyes watched him, mesmerized, hearing the gentle drone of his words, soft and low, unable to stop myself from following his instructions. I tasted the slightly bittersweet flavor on my tongue. He pressed the chocolate against my lips, causing a sharp intake of breath as the outside edge crumbled against my teeth and the sweet inner flavor filled my mouth.
“That’s my girl,” he said, drawing me close as he pressed his tongue through the chocolate, mixing his flavor into my mouth and sending shivers down my body, lighting up my core.
Involuntarily, I pulled back, overwhelmed by too many sensations at once. I wanted him, no doubt about that. My body could not deny it. In fact, my knees felt like jelly, my body drawn to him like a magnet.
“You’re doing fine,” he whispered into my ear, causing more shivers as his warm breath tickled the hairs. “You just want to know what I’m going to do next.” He buried his mouth into the curve of my neck, biting it gently and causing a shock wave to pulse through my muscles. I grabbed his arms tightly.
“That’s right. Hold me. I know you want me. I’m your savior, and you’re my flower. My sweet, delicate flower.” His kisses trailed down my neck, and I tilted my head back, feeling electric shocks where his lips touched my skin. I moaned, drinking in the warmth and gentleness of his lips.
He pulled my blouse from my shoulder, slipping the strap of my bra over my arm, and trailing kisses onto my chest. Cupping the breast, he gently tweaked the nipple, shooting hot sparks back up my body that tensed my shoulders. He leaned in further, taking the nipple in his teeth, rolling it gently with his tongue. I gasped at the heat of his mouth on my breast, the pleasure filling me with sensations I thought I’d forgotten.
“Oh!” I cried, arching into him, “please.”
“You don’t have to beg,” he laughed as he watched me squirm. “I’ll take care of you.”
He reached between my legs, pressing against my mound, then pulling up sharply at my cleft. I gasped at the sensation of something warm and thick between my legs.
“Let me show you what you’ve been missing.” He smiled down at me as he pressed me back against the chair. I couldn’t speak, only watch as he loomed over me, covering my body with his, pressing his manhood against me, urging me to even greater heights as I pressed myself against his magnificent cock, wishing we were already naked.
I opened my mouth to beg him for more, when the sudden incessant ring broke into my consciousness. My eyes flew open, and I groaned as I rolled over onto my side, irritated by the untimely interruption. For the briefest moment, I felt disoriented as I looked over at my cellphone on the bedside table, wondering who would want to reach me at this time of night.
Except. It wasn’t night any longer. And Jimmy wasn’t here. I was at home. Alone. I shut my eyes, feeling suddenly deflated as I realized it had all been a dream, a fantasy. The ache of loneliness filled my withered soul with more pain than even I wanted to admit.
Chapter Seven
“Sarah? I have Jimmy Spencer on line two.”
I froze in place. Jimmy? It had been over a week since I’d heard from him, or had my dream—and, in fact, I’d been glad he hadn’t called. I’d ended up telling myself it was better that way since I’d always considered mixing work and pleasure a big no-no. But then, I had to laugh. It was just my luck he’d call once I’d written him off.
“Hello, Mr. Spencer.” Relax. You’re a businesswoman, not an adolescent. You’re the one in control, regardless of your fantasy-dream. Besides, he’s off-limits now.
“Hey, Sarah. Sorry I haven’t called before now. This is a crazy-busy time of year for photographers. Lots of weddings, engagement shoots, that sort of thing.”
“I get it. Same thing around here. What can I do for you?”
He paused, and the line went silent. “Uh… well, this isn’t a business-related call. I wanted to tell you I had a good time at the coffee shop. I thought we could continue the fun sometime, if you wanted to come out with me.”
I chewed the side of my mouth, wondering what I should do. I knew going out with him wasn’t such a good idea. For several reasons, including the apparent fact that I had a bit of a crush on him. But, even more important, especially since his work was top-notch. I loved his work and was hoping to use him for future projects. Dating the guy might make things a little too messy, and I didn’t want to complicate what could turn out to be a solid business relationship.
Then the dream came back again, and I wasn’t so sure. The longing and emptiness pulled at my heart. Hadn’t I just decided it was time for a little fun in my life? I heard Tammy’s voice nagging in my head. Girl, get with the program. You are definitely not getting any younger. What’s the big deal about a single date? It’s not like he’s trying to sidetrack you from your career. Didn’t you have fun with him at coffee? Then what the heck are you waiting for?
She was right, of course, even if “she” was only the voice in my head. Nothing had happened between us, except in my own imagination. There was no reason we couldn’t have a good time together again. Especially if I could stay focused and remember the cardinal rule here: No Strings Attached.
“Okay,” I said. “That sounds like fun.” I squeezed my eyes shut, praying I hadn’t made a mistake I’d be sorry for.
“Awesome.” There was a smile in his voice. That was nice, and it made me smile, too. In my sternest internal Mommy voice, I told myself to stop acting like an overwrought schoolgirl. “How about tonight?” he continued.
I shook my head, frowning slightly as I looked at the phone in my hand. “You assume I’ll be free on such short notice?”
“Well, are you?” he asked when I put the phone back up to my ear.
I closed my eyes. He didn’t know my personal habits, or how much time I spent alone. “Yes, actually, I am.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight. What’s your address?”
Now, I was willing to be swept along in the excitement of the moment, the excitement of my first actual date in five years. I was even willing to let him decide what time we’d get together. But I was serious about staying focused, and that meant I wasn’t about to give him my address. Regardless of my fantasy-dream, I didn’t know this guy from Adam. For my own sake, I wanted to keep everything at arm’s length. At least for now.
“How about we meet up instead?” I hoped he wouldn’t press me on it.
I sighed a silent breath of relief when he answered, as easygoing as ever. “Suits me. Do you like music?”
“Who doesn’t?” I laughed.
“I know a great little neighborhood bar, sorta low-key, where there’s live music almost every night. It’s called The Cellar. How about it?”
I could do low-key. “I’m in.”
After we hung up, I looked up the address online. It was, indeed, a local neighborhood bar, and the reviews made it seem like a fun little place. Casual, relaxed, low key. And not far from my apartment. A win all the way around.
I couldn’t help smiling like a fool as I reached for my phone to call Tammy. She would be very proud of me. Besides, I would need her help in deciding what to wear on my low key date that evening.
Chapter Eight
When I walked into The Cellar, I knew Jimmy had been spot-on with his assessment. My first impression was of a very chill, laid-back neighborhood spot. It was still classy, but the sort of place where people could easily become regulars. A place where folks might like to congregate for an hour after work before heading home.
The next thing I noticed was my date, very clearly flirting with a cute, perky waitress. My heart sank a little, and I did my best not to frown. I knew he was flirtatious, I’d seen that much during our coffee, but I’d written it off. Maybe too hastily I now realized.
Tonight was a little bigger deal than coffee, at least for me. I considered this to be an actual date. Was he really so shallow he couldn’t wait for me to get there before turning on the charm?
At that moment, he noticed me and waved me over. “Sarah, I want y
ou to meet Crystal, the best waitress in the place. But don’t piss her off, or you might have to wait a long time for your drink.”
“You’re lucky you’re a good tipper, dearie,” she joked. Then she turned to me with a wink. “If he gives you any trouble, just let me know.”
“So, you’re friends?” I asked, sitting at the table.
“Nah, I just like to come here a lot. Everybody knows me.” He smiled that lazy lopsided grin of his, looking as laid-back as ever. We might as well have been sitting in his living room. That was something I envied about him. I wished I had that ability, to be comfortable wherever I was.
The musician that evening was a local solo blues guitarist, Kris someone. I was relieved—I couldn’t imagine screaming at one another over a loud band all night long. Instead, the music would be a nice undercurrent to our conversation.
Jimmy had dressed casually, in a button-down shirt with the top two buttons popped, and jeans. His dark brown hair was just long enough to flop onto his forehead. Even in the dim lighting, his blue eyes glowed.
“You look very nice,” he said. I blushed—it was like he read my mind. “It’s nice seeing you out of your work clothes.”
“What’s wrong with my work clothes?” I teased. My daily uniform consisted of a button-down shirt and slacks. I’d heard years ago that Steve Jobs wore the same uniform every day to free up his energy for more important things. The idea stuck. Besides, it was convenient to not have to decide on something as frivolous as clothing.
“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with what you wear. You look great every time I see you. But you’re looking a little more relaxed now, which I like even better.” His lopsided grin put me at ease. He had no idea how many outfits I went through to arrive at this sweater dress and riding boots. Tammy and I had video chatted for two solid hours while I went through my wardrobe.
“You ready for a drink?” He nodded toward the bar. “They have a nice selection of microbrews, but I somehow don’t think you’re a beer gal, even a specialty beer gal?” He cocked his head, watching my face. “Nope, let’s see, wine?” Another shake of my head. “Well, it’s either hard liquor or hard cider then. Or one of each.”
I laughed. “I’ve taken a huge liking to ciders. Last year I was at a conference in Seattle. They had far too many ciders for me to try them all, but I gave it my best shot.”
“Good, then. This place is known for their ciders.” He waved Crystal back over.
I listened as she reeled off the twelve varieties on tap from memory. It was hard to decide. Every cider was different, but I liked mine not too dry—it was better when I could still taste the apple or pear. I settled on a spiced variety she said was full-flavored.
While we waited, I wondered what to talk about. The first thing that jumped to mind—of course—was business. But then, it was always on my brain. “So, how long have you been a photographer?”
“Business talk?” He frowned, shaking his head. “Not tonight.”
I felt stupid, like I’d made a rookie mistake, but pressed on. “Why not? Don’t you like your work? You’re quite good. Why not talk about it?”
He shrugged. “I freelanced in college, but I’ve been taking pictures since high school.”
“See? You love it. Don’t you like talking about things you love?”
He grinned. “Yeah, but you strike me as being a little… intense, especially about work stuff. I can’t know where your questions are going when you’re like that.”
I shrank back into my chair a little. Intense? Was that how I came off?
“So, you know all about me, huh?” I asked, deciding to play it off instead of crawling under the table, which seemed tempting at that moment.
“Listen. I watch people. It’s an occupational hazard—always looking for that special moment, that perfect shot. You know? If the lighting’s right, if there’s magic happening that other people might miss, I see it.”
I chuckled. “Whenever I see a good ad, I dissect it to find out what the artist did to put it together.”
“There you go. We can’t help it. Anyway, you can learn a lot from a person just by watching them.” One corner of his mouth curved into a slow, sexy grin. My pulse quickened.
“And what can you tell just by watching me?” I dared to ask.
He tilted his head like he was thinking about it. “I don’t think you have nearly enough fun in your life.”
My cheeks burned, and I averted my eyes. He had me pegged. Was I that obvious?
“…and since I’m the master of fun,” he continued with a sexy smile, “you should spend a lot more time with me.”
Crystal returned with our drinks, and I was grateful for a chance to cool myself off with a long sip of cold, spicy cider.
One thing was for certain. Jimmy Spencer didn’t mince words.
Chapter Nine
“Come on,” he said once my cider was half gone. The song was a slow one, and Jimmy stood, pulling me up with him. “Dance with me.”
I looked up at his smile. Drinking and chatting were one thing—I was having fun, even. But slow dancing? I couldn’t remember the last time I slow danced. My prom?
Something about this guy broke down my defenses. It could have been the way he smiled at me or the gleam in his eye. Or simply my loneliness. The flattery. A cute, charming guy wanted to dance with me.
Whatever it was, it got me onto the dance floor.
As the music surrounded us, he pulled my body close to his, not wasting time on formalities like asking if I wanted to be that close. It didn’t matter, either, since the moment our bodies touched, all common sense flew out the window. When he pressed his hips against mine, I felt him stirring against me. I didn’t push him away. In fact, I felt myself aching in response.
“You should always wear your hair down,” he breathed into my ear. I shivered, and against the warning voice in my head, the ache intensified. I was almost overcome with the need to be closer.
It had been so long since a man touched me. I closed my eyes, sinking into the warmth, the sensation, soaking it up. The combination of my need and the cider and Jimmy’s hands on me, it left me breathless, hot, wet. My knees were weak. I almost wished we weren’t in public so I could let go and enjoy what was happening to me.
The song was over too soon, and I made my way back to the table on shaky legs. When we sat back down, Jimmy positioned his chair beside me, instead of across the table. I didn’t mind when his arm brushed against mine, sending subtle sparks down through my fingers.
Now he leaned into me when he spoke, so close his breath tickled the hair at the nape of my neck. Goosebumps covered me. The energy between us was electric. He stroked my arm, his hand going from shoulder to wrist. I wondered if he could feel the way my pulse raced at his touch.
Everything seemed to be going amazingly well, and I felt a little giddy. Where would this lead? I wasn’t sure, but on some primal level, the heady uncertainty was intoxicating.
There was only one thing that bothered me as the night went on, and I couldn’t ignore it, regardless of how hard I tried. No matter how close he sat or how much he touched me, no matter how close he held me as we danced, he never stopped flirting with the other women at the bar.
More than once, I even found him looking at other women as I was speaking to him. He’d always turn his attention back to me as soon as I noticed, but still, it made me uneasy.
The waitresses, the bartender, every woman was “Honey,” “Babe,” or “Sweetie.” He couldn’t let a single one of them pass our table without striking up a conversation or throwing a thinly-veiled flirtation their way.
The more it happened, the more uneasy I became. Was there something wrong with me? Maybe one woman wasn’t enough for him? It had been so long, I really didn’t know what to expect—which was part of what had kept me from dating all these years—the uncertainty about the current dating scene and what was expected nowadays.
I nervously ran my palms over the front of my thigh
s under the table. He was digging holes in my self-esteem without even knowing it. It took me back to high school, where I was never exactly popular with boys. I was almost always the friend, never the girlfriend. I could be having an amazing conversation with one of the guys, feeling like there was nobody else in the world but the two of us, but the second a cute girl walked by, their head would turn. And I would suddenly feel two inches tall.
Dammit. This wasn’t high school anymore. I was a grown woman, a flipping millionaire with a business so successful I was considering opening another office, for Pete’s sake! There was no forgetting the way he’d pressed himself against me on the dance floor, either. That had to count for something.
Sarah Jean, get a grip! You can sit here and relive every humiliation you’ve ever felt, or you can make sure you have a good time.
Never one to deny the obvious, I decided on the good time. Jimmy was fun to be with. I needed to step up and let go of my self-consciousness. I couldn’t let anyone or anything from my past get to me or undermine my goal.
I was out for a good time, after all, and I wasn’t about to be denied.
Chapter Ten
As the night wore on, Jimmy continued his flirtations, but more and more his attention seemed to focus on me. When it came time to leave, panic shot through me.
In my earlier efforts to put my past insecurities behind me, I’d had more than just a few drinks. And Jimmy wasn’t in a whole lot better shape than I was.
After all the sensual dancing, my poor muddied thoughts darted in all directions. Would he expect to come home with me? Or maybe he’d ask if I wanted to go back to his place? Out on the dance floor, he’d made it pretty obvious that he wanted to be close.
Would he want to make out in the cab? What should I do? What should I say? My hands were shaking a little as I put on my coat.
As we stepped outside, I decided I’d do my best to be game. I wanted to come off as a calm, professional woman, sure of herself and her attractiveness—even if I felt nothing like that at the moment, and my knees shook harder than they had when we danced. I might as well have been a blushing virgin all over again.