by Mari Carr
He took the mirror from her and placed it on the counter, then he grasped her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Aw, hell, honey. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t be. It’s just—”
“You were nervous about the tat. Second-guessing your decision. I should have told you to go home and sleep on it.”
“No.” Her grip on his hands tightened. “I love it.”
He studied her face, trying to decide if she was lying just to assuage his guilty conscience. As always, he saw nothing but honesty in her gaze. “You do?”
She gave him a wobbly smile, her tears overflowing. “Oh my God, yes. It’s even better than I imagined. It’s perfect.”
Caliph rubbed his jaw, relief suffusing him. “Damn, girl. You scared the shit out of me.”
Jennifer laughed, then picked up the mirror once more, taking even longer to admire her new look. The pleasure in her eyes warmed him.
Shep walked over to join them, studying the tat. “Nice work, Cal. That’s a beaut.”
Caliph nodded, barely acknowledging Shep’s compliment. He was more interested in watching Jennifer.
Then he heard Shep mutter something like “aw jeez, here we go” and Caliph’s attention turned back to his friend. “What?”
Shep rolled his eyes at Caliph’s confusion, then looked at Jennifer. “Congratulations. It’s a great tattoo.”
Jennifer smiled widely. “Thanks.”
Shep returned to his chair as Caliph led Jennifer back to his. Obviously Caliph hadn’t managed to mask his attraction to Jennifer from his friend. One of the dangers of working with the same people for so long. The artists in the shop spent too much damn time together. Sometimes it was nice to have such fierce friends at his back, but most of the time it was a pain in the ass. Shep was definitely going to give him shit for this, tease him about getting the hots for the quiet, conservative hotel manager.
Caliph picked up a tube of ointment and turned Jennifer away from him. As he squeezed some onto a stick, he felt her quiver and he had to resist the impulse to lean forward and place a kiss on the back of her slim neck. He spread the lotion onto her skin.
While he worked, he briefly ran through a mental list of reasons why he shouldn’t start an affair with Jennifer.
For one thing, the pain from her divorce was present and though she had a good attitude in regards to moving on, she still had a ways to go. Besides, he wasn’t looking for a relationship and certainly didn’t want to end up hurting her like her ex had.
They were also different people. Jennifer was clearly conservative, reserved. He wasn’t sure how she’d respond to his impulsiveness, his tendency to live in the moment. Jennifer didn’t strike him as someone who’d find that an easy thing to deal with even for the short-term.
He also wasn’t sure what she’d make of their age difference—he was thirty-two to her nearly forty. While she didn’t seem hung up on the numbers, Caliph didn’t know how she’d feel about sleeping with a younger man. Then, he dismissed that thought as unimportant.
Because there was one way in which she was definitely wrong for him. She may have been married for seventeen years, but he had no doubt her adventures in the bedroom didn’t extend much beyond missionary. Compared to him, she was an innocent.
Caliph couldn’t remember the last time he’d had missionary sex. His desires ran along a much different path. He pictured taking Jennifer to the Bastille, a local sex club. He liked the idea of exposing her to that world to see if his suspicions about her sexually submissive nature were true. Her blushes and trembles when he touched her, the way her eyes lowered whenever he asked her to do something, the tiny ways she deferred to him, all combined together in such a way that had him longing to tie her to his bed and fuck her senseless.
Then he imagined Jennifer taking one look at the dark, intimidating sex club with its St. Andrew’s crosses and wooden posts with eyebolts and chains. She’d most likely scream as she ran from the room.
Or would she?
Her mention of a safe word earlier threw him. Made him wonder.
And want.
He covered her tattoo with plastic wrap, then he reached for the blouse she’d worn to the shop. He helped put it on, pleased when she turned to face him, allowing him to button it for her.
His excuses for avoiding sex with her fled the instant her pretty blue eyes met his. Jennifer may have been hurt by her ex, but the asshole’s cruelty hadn’t killed her spirit. The same desire he felt was reflected in her face. Jesus. She wanted him.
“Thanks,” she said softly when he’d fastened the last button.
He didn’t release the material. He heard Shep talking to his client, a regular, neither man paying attention to them. Sassy had returned from running errands an hour ago and was in the back room. No one else was working yet, the other artists choosing to work later shifts.
Jennifer held his gaze. “Caliph?” she whispered when the silence continued a beat too long.
“How wild do you want to go?”
She frowned, then gave him a rueful grin. “I love my tattoo more than I can say, but I’m definitely not ready for another.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.” He lowered his voice. “I’m attracted to you, Jen.”
She licked her lips, the action a perfect blend of nervousness and arousal. Caliph’s cock thickened even more.
“I want you too.” Her admission came out more air than tone, but he heard it, let the beauty of it soak deep.
“Friday night, after the jazz club.” He didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. Jennifer was already nodding.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“So would I.”
Then her brow furrowed. That didn’t take long. Less than five seconds in and she was already reconsidering.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he prodded.
“I’ve never had a one-night stand.”
Caliph was touched by her honesty, but bothered by it as well. That list of reasons he should have stayed away rained down on him again. Women like her didn’t do casual sex, but he was pretty damn sure that was all he had to give her. He hadn’t lied about his disinterest in marriage. “Jennifer—”
He started to offer her an out, but she cut him off.
“No. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thing. I might be putting the pieces back together, Caliph, but the truth of it is, I’m still pretty broken. At this point in my life, I have basically nothing, but sex to give you. Besides, something tells me you’d be a great guy to go wild with.”
He grinned. “I’m glad you have such faith in my abilities. I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”
She laughed. “I’m not worried.”
Caliph knew he should take her agreement to sleep with him and run with it, but he couldn’t lie to her when she looked at him with those gorgeous, trusting eyes. She needed to know exactly what she was agreeing to.
“Maybe you should be. Because, Jen, you will need a safe word Friday night.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, but she held her ground. His respect for her went up several more notches.
“Does it make me sound completely twisted if I say that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me?”
He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re a fascinating woman, Jen. And I can’t wait to paint on your canvas some more.”
Chapter Three
Jennifer leaned back in her chair and wished the soft, mellow music would work its magic on her. As it was, she was a bundle of nerves and pent-up hormones. Ever since Caliph issued his invitation to the club—and everything that would come after—she’d found it impossible to think about anything else. Her work was suffering. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours each night and the woman who never missed a meal was suddenly living on only a couple of bites here and there.
In a word, she was a mess.
Caliph reached under the table and placed
a firm hand on her knee to still her rapidly bouncing leg.
She glanced at him. “Sorry,” she whispered.
When they’d entered the club, Caliph had escorted her to a table along a side wall. He’d wasted no time pulling his chair as close to hers as possible. Sassy had come with them, but within minutes of arriving, she’d run into other friends. Jennifer glanced over to the bar and saw the vivacious woman laughing and talking. Jennifer wished she felt even half as carefree at the moment.
Caliph squeezed her knee gently. “Relax, Jen.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that was easier said than done, but before she could speak, a man approached their table.
“There you are. Sorry I’m late, Cal. Fucking work is insane right now. We landed three big clients, so I’m in deadline hell.” The man plopped into a chair across from them. “Hey. You must be Jennifer. I’m Justin.”
Jennifer took the man’s outstretched hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
Caliph pushed the extra Guinness he’d ordered toward his brother. “Here. Had the waitress bring this over when you texted to say you were on your way. Figured you could use a cold one.”
Justin smiled and muttered a quick word of thanks before taking a drink.
Jennifer was struck by how different the men were. Where Caliph was a huge, hulking figure with his smooth, shaved head, tattooed skin and tight black T-shirt, Justin was long, lean and clean-cut with an expensive hairstyle, conservative shirt and new jeans. Caliph was linebacker to his brother’s point guard, and besides their height, she was hard-pressed to find one physical similarity between them.
Caliph must have noticed her attempt. “Don’t bother trying. Justin’s my half-brother and, according to our mom, he’s the spitting image of his old man, while I’m the mirror image of mine.”
Justin chuckled. “Pisses her off too. Says it’s not fair that none of her kids got even a speck of her good looks.”
They all laughed.
“I can’t decide if I want to meet your mother or not. She seems like a force to be reckoned with,” Jennifer joked.
Caliph put his arm around her shoulder, the close proximity doing funny things to her libido. Jennifer struggled to keep cool, but had no doubt her flushed face was giving her away to both men at the table. “Don’t worry, Jen. I’d protect you from her.”
Justin snorted. “Yeah right. Just admit you’re afraid of her too. Hell, we all are. When Meg Lewis says move, you better believe everybody in the house goes into motion.”
“Everybody? You have other brothers and sisters?” As she asked the question, she realized how little she really knew about Caliph. This was only the third time she’d even seen the man and she’d agreed to have sex with him. Responsible Jennifer would never have dreamed of jumping into bed with a stranger, yet the decision to sleep with Caliph had been surprisingly easy. And it occurred to her that most of her nervousness wasn’t based on fear, but anticipation.
“My mom had four kids, Justin’s the oldest, then me, then our brother Jett. Chloe is the only girl and the baby.”
“Which means she’s spoiled rotten,” Justin added.
Jennifer could tell from their expressions both men adored their kid sister.
Caliph ran his finger along the nape of her neck and Jennifer resisted the urge to shudder…and purr. “But the family is actually bigger than that.”
Justin took a swig of beer and put the glass back down. “Mom has taken in a lot of foster kids over the years. She was a social worker before she got married. After she started having kids, she quit her job.”
“Her workdays were unbelievably long and she didn’t want to be away from us for so many hours every day,” Caliph continued. “Of course, she also couldn’t stand the thought of other kids out there who needed a safe place to stay.”
“Over the years, we’ve had six foster brothers and sisters live with us, off and on, depending on how much the system wanted to fuck with them.” Justin’s tone didn’t mask his disgust and Caliph’s expression proved he felt the same way.
She could imagine how hard it would be to bring a child into your home only to have the courts yank them back out to return them somewhere less safe. Jennifer smiled sympathetically. “Your mom sounds great. What about your dad…or sorry, dads?”
Justin chuckled. “I was an oops during my parents’ senior year at college. They never got married, but I know my dad. He’s still around. Papa Lewis is the one she married.”
“My dad was a boxer before he started working on oil rigs. He wasn’t home much. Used to joke that was why my mom kept taking in strays. To keep from getting lonely.”
“As if you could get lonely in that house,” Justin added.
Caliph’s eyes dimmed. “Dad had a massive heart attack a few years ago and died.”
Jennifer took Caliph’s hands. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Caliph squeezed her fingers lightly, clearly appreciating her words. “It’s okay, but thanks.”
Justin’s cell beeped and he glanced at the screen, his eyes going wide with excitement. “Hot damn.”
Caliph shook his head in feigned disapproval. “Let me guess. Ned?”
Justin gave his brother a shit-eating grin. “Yep. Turns out my partner may have an interesting, er, prospect for us tonight. You guys care if I shove off early?”
Caliph pointed to Justin’s glass. “You’re leaving money for that beer. I’m getting sick of covering your bar tabs whenever you get a better offer.”
Justin threw a ten-dollar bill on the table with a laugh. “Nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
“You too,” she said as he walked away. She turned to look at Caliph. “Prospect?”
Caliph hesitated for a moment. Finally, he answered. “My brother and his marketing partner, Ned, are best friends. They like to share.”
The light went on. “Women?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” He studied her face as she fought to school her features. She certainly didn’t want to look like a judgmental prude when the truth was the whole idea made her hot.
“Oh. Well, that’s cool.”
Caliph laughed. “Glad you think so.”
His words ran over her like ice water and for the first time since she’d agreed to sleep with him, panic set in. “I mean, I don’t, I didn’t—”
Caliph took her hands in his once more. “Relax, Jen. Tonight is just you and me. Threesomes are Justin’s kink. Not mine.”
“What are yours?” The question fell out before she could think better of it, but she didn’t bother to take it back. Despite her undeniable horniness, she hadn’t taken complete leave of her senses. Probably best to put all their cards on the table now.
“Bondage. Domination. Spanking. Wax play. Anal.”
He rattled off his grocery list of sex acts with such ease Jennifer struggled to catch her breath. “Oh. Is that all?”
Caliph laughed at her joke, shaking his head. “You’re adorable.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. His size became even more apparent as she was engulfed in sheer muscle. “Tonight’s not about my kinks, Jen. You wanted to go wild. Tell me how.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips. She’d read about—fantasized over—everything he’d mentioned. But there was safety in fiction. Caliph was offering to make her dreams a reality and that scared the shit out of her. “I sort of thought I was pushing the envelope by having sex with a virtual stranger. Starting to think I might be out of my league.”
Caliph ran the back of one finger along her cheek in a way that should have been endearing, but was the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a flame. Her pussy clenched. “Your league is just fine. Tell me where you see tonight going.”
She considered his list. “I don’t know you well enough to let you tie me up and render me helpless.”
Caliph grinned. “Good girl. You’re right. You don’t.”
He accepted her admission too easily and she was concerned he’d misunder
stood. “But…that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. I mean…I would…eventually.”
Heat suffused her face. God. Caliph had invited her out tonight—only offered her one evening. She hadn’t meant to insinuate she wanted more.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I love your expressions.”
She frowned. “What do you—”
“You’re a very easy woman to read, Jen. I want tonight to go well. And if it does, we can talk about seeing each other again. There’s nothing to say a one-night stand can’t run over into two. You seem to be a very sensual woman with some fantasies that need exploring. Let’s just roll with it. Don’t shield your words or hide your feelings from me because they aren’t going to scare me away.”
Jennifer wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d come here tonight fully prepared for a one-night stand. Truthfully that seemed like the most she could handle. She’d never mastered casual sex. Ever since she’d lost her virginity in eleventh grade, she’d had a tendency to lead with her heart. If she let tonight trickle into more, wouldn’t she be setting herself up for heartache?
After nursing a broken heart for the better part of last year, she wasn’t sure she was ready to open herself up for more hurt.
“Uh oh. You’re thinking too much.” He stood, throwing money on the table. “Come on, gorgeous. I’m taking you back to my place and fucking you until you forget your name.”
She rose slowly, then hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t lied earlier about what made this night seem wild, even if it felt tame compared to Caliph’s sexual proclivities. Essentially, they really were strangers. She didn’t even know where he lived. This was stupid and reckless.
Caliph held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” Even as she asked the question, she handed it over.
“Who’s your best friend?”
“Beth.”
He turned it on and clicked on her list of contacts before handing it back to her. “Send a text to Beth. Tell her where you’re going and give her my address.”