“I don’t do this often, so I’m doing it right. Come in the kitchen and talk to me.”
She followed him into the kitchen, again surprised by the size and quality of the granite countertops and hardwood floors. The appliances were not only new, but top-of-the-line stainless steel.
“Who the heck did you know to get a deal on this place?”
He smiled as he went around the counter to the refrigerator and got out a large glass bowl full of torn-up pieces of romaine. Except for a bottle of white wine, a bottle of ketchup and a six-pack of beer, the refrigerator looked empty.
“When I got it, the wood countertops were warped, like the floors, and the appliances were all that old avocado colored stuff from the sixties.” He opened a beautiful wooden cabinet and brought out two wineglasses. “Did you say you wanted white wine?”
She nodded. “White. Thank you. Did you change the cabinets, too?”
“Oh, yeah. The old ones were ruined.” He turned on the upper one of the double ovens.
The five-burner cooktop was separate, and there was a convenient butcher-block island in the center. This was a kitchen she’d kill for. If she cooked. Which she didn’t.
He poured the wine with a frown, and as he passed her the glass, asked, “Are you having garlic bread?”
“I hadn’t thought about it.” She lied. She had. Garlic? What was he thinking?
“I don’t know if I should bother heating it, because either we both eat garlic bread or neither of us do.”
She tried not to smile. “Why?”
“Just in case we do a little kissing later.”
“You’re a little devil.”
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped in mock horror. “You’ve been talking to my mom.”
She laughed. “I figured that one out all by myself.” She slowly came around the counter, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and drawing his attention to her legs. “Why wait until later?”
His heated gaze slowly came up to her face. “Can’t think of a single reason.”
She took another step and he pulled her the rest of the way, bringing her up against him and finding her mouth with an urgency that made her dizzy. As if he couldn’t get enough of her, he feverishly kissed her mouth, her chin, her neck…
“What about dinner?” she whispered.
“Mmm…” He bit her earlobe. “It tastes pretty good.”
She laughed and hiccupped at the same time. “Tony, I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, baby, not like I’ve missed you.” He cupped her bottom and pulled her in tight. He was already hard and a vivid memory of him naked and ready for her made her whimper.
She buried her face against his neck, her palms running up his back. Feeling him through the shirt wasn’t enough so she worked her way under the hem until she hit bare skin. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he yanked her blouse from the waistband of her skirt.
“We should eat first,” she whispered.
“Really?”
“No.”
He chuckled and started unfastening her buttons. She knocked his hand away and he stopped, a startled look on his face, until she gripped his shirt again. He quickly pulled it off then went back to her buttons. She reached around and unzipped her skirt.
She didn’t even know this greedy person she’d become. From the moment she’d seen him at the door she knew she wanted him stripped naked, his penis thick and hard in her hand. She wanted to taste him. Every last inch of him.
He slid her skirt down her thighs to her calves, and she stepped out of it, and then kicked off her heels. Tony moved back to unfasten his buckle.
“Nice bra,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Shut up.” She’d thought about wearing one today that Dallas had bought her, but Dakota always wore a white blouse to the office and this style was appropriate.
“Very practical.”
“Shut up or it stays on.”
He got rid of the belt and unsnapped his jeans. “No, really, it’s great. Very sexy. I’ll shut up now.”
“Good idea.” Something caught her eye above the kitchen sink and she froze. “You don’t have curtains.”
“Not yet. Low on the priority list.”
She looked around for her blouse, found it on the counter and pushed an arm through the sleeve.
“Now, just hold on a minute. No one can see in.”
“The hell they can’t. If I can see movement, then they can see in here.” What on earth was wrong with her? She’d come here to have dinner. Not be dinner. She got her arm through the other sleeve but the collar was all screwed up and she turned away while she straightened it out.
“I swear to you no one can see in.” He touched her arm. “I’ve tried myself. Just to make sure.”
She got three buttons fastened and realized she’d started with the wrong hole. She muttered a most unladylike curse.
“Dakota?”
“What?” She didn’t mean to sound so bitchy. This wasn’t his fault. She was exhausted and embarrassed and…
“Dakota, look at me.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, she reluctantly met his eyes.
He smiled and helped her button her blouse, correcting the ones she’d messed up. “Let’s have some dinner, okay?”
No shirt, his jeans unsnapped, he stood there looking so yummy she wanted to kick herself all the way down Broadway for being a big wuss. He had to think she was a total nutcase. But being on their home turf while carrying on spooked her.
God, she felt like that one time in high school when she’d snuck out of the house to see a boy her parents had forbidden her to see. Guilt had stuck to her like wet paint for the entire two hours she was with him, and all they’d done was hold hands.
“I overreacted. I know.” She thought she saw something and her gaze darted back to the window.
“No, you didn’t. I’m not into being watched, either.” He handed her her skirt. “Let’s not allow it to ruin our evening.”
She’d been about to beg out, and tell him she needed to get back to work. But he’d know better, and anyway, it wasn’t fair. Not to him, and not to her, either. She’d already smiled and laughed more here, tonight, than she had all week.
Dakota stepped into her skirt, holding onto one of Tony’s shoulders for support. When she went to zip it up, he silently offered to do it, reaching around her and pulling the zipper into place.
Close enough for a kiss, he seized the opportunity. She didn’t refuse, didn’t even glance at the window. Simply enjoyed the moment, enjoyed the warmth of his lips on hers, enjoyed the security she felt in his arms.
He kept the kiss gentle even when she tried to take it to the next level. And then he moved his mouth to her cheek for a light peck and held her tightly for a long tender moment.
Tears burned the back of her eyes. She never cried, and she sure as heck wouldn’t do so now, but work pressure and exhaustion were really getting to her. And she really needed this. To be held. To not be questioned or prodded. To just be.
She inhaled deeply, composing herself, and then tilted her head back to look at Tony. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I don’t know what for, but you’re always welcome.”
She smiled. “Now, are you going to feed me?”
He tapped her on the backside, and then took her shoulders and turned her around. “For distracting me, you have to help with dinner. Get the plates out and toss the salad.”
“I can do that.” She went to the salad bowl and peered inside. He wasn’t kidding. All she had to do was toss. The tomatoes and red peppers were already cut up, the black olives already sliced.
She looked up to ask him for the salad dressing, and with deep regret, saw him putting his shirt back on. Tempted as she was to ask him to leave it off, she knew that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, if he humored her, she couldn’t be trusted. Sighing she busied herself with looking for the dressing a
nd found some blue cheese.
They decided to skip the garlic bread and he dished up the already warmed lasagna, while she filled salad plates. She ate so many salads for lunch at work, all she cared about was the lasagna so she made him give her an extra piece.
He took another one himself and they carried their plates into the dining room. She sat at the small oak table, which seemed completely out of place in the formal dining room, while he returned to the kitchen for their wine. The hardwood floors were in excellent shape, probably because Tony had already redone them, but the gold foil-like wallpaper was hideously gauche and old-fashioned.
“I love the wallpaper you chose,” she said when he got back.
“Yeah, I was thinking about using this pattern in the rest of the house,” he said with such a straight face that for an instant she thought he was serious. Then he shook his head. “You should see the stuff they had on the bathroom walls. The previous owners had lived here for sixty years. When they passed away last year, their kids mortgaged the place to the hilt for the equity because they couldn’t agree on selling it, and then defaulted.”
“That’s sad. For all our differences, I can’t imagine Dallas and Cody and I behaving that way.’ She took her first bite of lasagna. “Oh, my, this is…incredible. Did you really make this?”
“Hey.” He showed her the underside of his forearm. “I’ve got the burn marks to prove it.”
She gasped playfully. The marks were faint. “Poor baby. You really did burn yourself.”
He nodded, going for sympathy with a forlorn look.
“You’ll live. I promise. The good news is…this lasagna is truly amazing.” She took another big bite. The compliment wasn’t meant to simply be nice. The man could cook.
They talked very little while they continued eating, and too late, she realized she’d eaten too much. Walking home instead of taking a cab would help that problem, but damned if her mind didn’t go straight for another way to burn off some of her dinner. Surely he had to have curtains in his bedroom.
“Okay,” she said, getting up with her plate and reaching for his. “The least I can do is the dishes.”
He immediately got to his feet and took the plates from her. “Domestic goddess that you aren’t, you probably haven’t heard of one of these newfangled inventions. It’s called a dishwasher.”
“Wow, imagine.” She grabbed their glasses and followed him to the kitchen. Her gaze went directly to the window. Nothing there, of course, but she couldn’t help it. “Hey, you drank wine tonight.”
“It goes with lasagna. Has to be red, though. Just ask my grandmother.” He stacked the plates in the sink, and she grabbed a dish towel. “Another thing I should explain about these dishwashing contraptions, you always let the dishes soak in the sink first.” He took the towel out of her hand and threw it on the counter.
“I hadn’t heard that one before.”
“Trust me.” He took her hand and led her into the living room.
At his urging, she sat on the overstuffed leather couch and then watched him look through a rack of CDs. His shirt was untucked and to her knowledge he hadn’t put his belt back on. She laid her head back, drowsy from her carb-fest, knowing she should go home, knowing she couldn’t leave yet.
“You like Norah Jones?” he asked, and then turned around when she didn’t answer.
“I’m trying to think. I know I’ve heard her before.”
“She has a distinctive voice.” He slid the CD into the player. “If you’ve heard her before, you’ll recognize her immediately.”
He left on one dim lamp, and turned off the rest of the lights. Then he joined her on the couch, angling himself toward her and pulling her back against his chest.
“If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you in an hour,” he whispered, his chin lightly resting on top of her head, his strong arms encircling her, crossed gently over her breasts, and imprisoning her arms.
She didn’t feel trapped, though. Safe and content, yes. The only scary thing was how easy it would be to forget the responsibilities and pressure of work. But she knew better. Tomorrow morning’s meetings and deadlines would come and she’d better be ready.
She turned so that her cheek rested against the base of his throat, and snuggled deeper, bending her elbows so that she could curl her hands around his forearms. She wouldn’t go to sleep, but it was nice listening to the bluesy voice of Norah Jones and feeling Tony’s strong heartbeat, which was the last thought she remembered having.
ADMITTEDLY, Tony had had other plans for the evening. But this was good. He liked holding her and knowing that for just a little while she wasn’t thinking about work. She could relax and know she was safe, and that he was right here if she needed him.
Her grip on his forearms slackened and he knew she’d drifted off. Probably not for long, but a power nap always did him a world of good. He inhaled the vanilla scent of her shampoo, laid his head back and closed his eyes. It would be easy for him to fall asleep, too. After working a twelve-hour day himself, one glass of wine and a plate of pasta was enough to do him in. But he couldn’t break his promise to wake her.
He quickly stifled a yawn when his chest expanded and she stirred. He tightened his arms around her ever so slightly and she settled down, and he lay back again, enjoying the feel of her soft breasts beneath his arms.
He could hear her gentle breathing.
Or maybe it was his own.
The voice of Norah Jones lulled him into a pleasant twilight. He fought sleep. Blinked several times to keep himself awake. But his lids felt so damn heavy….
TONY WASN’T SURE what startled him. He opened his eyes. It took a second to realize he was still on the couch. Dakota was with him. And she was unzipping his jeans.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
“Is it?”
“Two-fifteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She pushed his shirt up and found his nipples.
He smiled. “Come here.”
She shimmied up to him, causing unbearable friction in her wake. “Yes?” she said, her lips against his mouth.
While he kissed her, he pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and then unzipped her. She helped him with the annoyingly small buttons of her blouse and he helped her pull off his jeans. Her panty hose was the biggest challenge and he wasn’t sure but he might owe her a new pair. But in spite of all obstacles, within seconds they were both naked.
Thank God he’d left the old drapes up.
She ran two fingers along his cock. “Tony, do you have any—?”
He shuddered. “Yep, give me a minute.” He got up even though he had condoms in his jeans pocket, but he didn’t think it would be cool to just whip them out. Might give her the wrong idea.
He disappeared for a few seconds and when he got back he found her looking over his CD collection. In full light, she was perfect. Standing there, naked, in the dim glow of the lamp, she looked like an artist’s rendering. From the graceful curve of her neck to the seductive curve of her backside, she was perfection. Even her sexily tousled hair looked as if it had been arranged. But he knew for sure it hadn’t. Not Dakota.
She looked up and smiled. And that was perfect, too.
He couldn’t wait. Not another minute.
Taking her hand, he brought her back to the couch, urging her to help sheath him. He kissed her hard and deep, and holding her hips, guided her over him. He stretched his legs out as she straddled him, lowering herself until he entered her, so slick and wet that in three thrusts the explosion started.
13
NOBODY HAD GOTTEN to the office yet. Only six-fifteen. Early even for Dakota. But she badly needed to get a jump on the day. Yesterday, after leaving Tony’s place at four in the morning, she’d gotten only two hours sleep before going to the office. The whole day had gone downhill with her first cup of spilled coffee.
She’d functioned at half speed, managing to get in only six hours of work
after putting in a twelve-hour day. Last night she’d crashed early when she was supposed to have been preparing an opening argument. Fortunately, she’d always been an early starter so she wasn’t late with it yet.
The coffeemaker in the room next to her office made that low gurgling sound it always did when the coffee was done brewing and she went to get a cup before she unloaded her briefcase.
On the way back, her laptop caught her eye. It normally took downing half a cup of strong Colombian brew before she could function anyway, so she saw no harm in checking for responses from the Eve’s Apple gang.
She got set up and relaxed in her chair as the messages started popping up. Jeez, she’d never seen so many responses, most of them calling her an idiot judging by the subject lines. Did she really want to read those?
Curiosity got the better of her and she chose a few to read while she sipped her coffee.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Who are you kidding?
D,
You’re not okay. Reread your e-mail. Be honest with yourself. I felt so sad reading it. Are you seeing this guy again? What happened!?!
Cindy, who’s on your side but doesn’t get it
That one stopped her. How much had changed in just one day! Yeah, she’d seen Tony again, but what had that accomplished? She liked him even more if that were possible. But that solved nothing. In fact, she’d probably have been better off not contacting him again. To think he lived so close was sheer torture. That in a ten-minute cab ride she could be with him. Kissing him. Be in his arms. Feel the stress miraculously melt away just because he was near.
She looked to the next message, this one with a more neutral subject line.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hey!!!
D,
You really are nuts if you don’t think we all don’t want to hear more about the weekend. Details, please!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BTW listen to Cindy. She’s right.
Love and kisses,
Horny
The Honeymoon That Wasn't Page 13