One Taste

by Cari Quinn

  He leaned back, the glint of humor in his eyes warring with the mini-explosion she’d just witnessed. How was she supposed to know what to do with him when he was so hard to pin down? He stood, dragging her up and into his arms. His shirt was still bunched up around his belly and her fingers itched to get under it to his smooth skin.

  So close to hairless except for the silky line around his bellybutton and down around that maddeningly perfect cock. She wanted to circle him with her lips, with her fingers, with her suddenly voracious body. He knew just how to please her and she was an abysmal failure at doing the same for him.

  She’d pulled out all her tricks and yet he was still looking for something more. How or what she had no idea, but he was determined to find something more in her. When his fingers slid into her hair, she sighed and stepped back.

  Ego notwithstanding, she was looser now. Whatever made Nate, Nate, it worked to push the worries aside for a little while. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. She couldn’t quite get to his mouth.

  He smiled down at her. “What was that for?”

  “I should be tossing you off the roof for taking sex out of our little…” she drifted off, not sure what to call what they were doing.

  “Relationship?”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Is that what you think this is?”

  His long fingers banded across the nape of her neck, drawing her up until she had no choice but to get back on her tiptoes. Those wide, chiseled lips softened, drawing out a soft and sweet kiss. “I want it to be. That’s why I want us to figure us out before we add sex into the mix again.”

  Frustration made her hang on a little tighter when he would have pulled away. She drew the kiss out, making sure he knew what he was walking away from. He hissed, tangling his fingers in her hair, his other hand twisting her skirt until the hem rose a few inches.

  He stopped, the deep growl of need spinning out even as he pushed her back a step and broke away from her. “Fuck.”

  “Hey, you’re the one that wants to stop fucking.”

  The tic in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and fists punched her heart rate up. She knew how to please a man. He’d fallen apart under her driving hips, so she knew all hope wasn’t lost.

  When he opened his eyes again, she simply looked back at him. He cupped her face in both hands. “Miranda, there’s more to us than just bumping pelvises until the friction comes out right.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I—”

  He brushed his thumb over her lips. “We’ll just take it slow.”

  Huffing out a disgusted sigh, she nodded. “We’ll try it your way.” She caught his wrist, her fingers barely able to wrap around the bone. He was so long and lanky that she forgot how incredibly solid he was at the same time. “Come back tonight. I’ll cook.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Cook?”

  She smiled easily now. She had to be insane to invite him into her apartment tonight, but maybe they could get through one meal without ripping their clothes off. And if he wanted to rescind his new clause, who was she to stop him?

  “You’re not a vegan or vegetarian, are you?”

  “Jesus no.”

  She laughed at his stunned face and instant sneer. “Good. How about seven?”

  “Want me to bring something?”

  She thought about it for a minute, then nodded. “Wine. Something red, but skip the merlots.”

  He nodded. “I can manage that.”

  She just hoped she could manage a night with him in her apartment and keep MJ in check.

  Clearing out the office was far easier than it should have been. Obviously she’d been pushing them all too much. Despite Max’s knowing look, she ignored all attempts to get her to talk about what happened on the roof.

  Hell, she didn’t even know what happened on the roof. One minute she was headlong into an orgasm that could have split her in two, and the next Nate was cursing her name. She’d gone with the impulsive lust. She’d enjoyed the way he filled her and yet he kept saying something was missing.

  Okay, so maybe she’d come too close to letting the old MJ come out of her shell, but she’d been able to handle it in the end. She’d made sure she held on to him even as instinct took over. It had been so long since she’d touched or been touched that she’d gone a little crazy—that she could fess up to.

  What she couldn’t understand is why he kept asking her to stay with him while they were skin to skin. She’d known who she was with. She’d reveled in it, drunk on the lust and power of two bodies totally in sync.

  It was more than she’d been able to offer anyone in too many years to count. Why did he have to want more? Why did she want to give him more?

  She puttered around the apartment, making sure it was guest-worthy before she stepped into the shower. Instead of doing her hair, she pulled it up into a few different sections until it made a funky little twist. She threaded a scarf around the entire mess and let it slide over her shoulder.

  She unearthed a soft jersey top and matching pants that clung to her hips and dropped to pool at her feet. She’d even put on a simple pink thong and matching bra just in case she could convince him how stupid the no-sex thing was.

  Didn’t he realize that not everyone could pull off the kind of chemistry that swirled around them like a living thing? She knew it. She’d found it only a handful of times in her life. And Nate was definitely in the forbidden and lost-weekend category.

  Maybe I want more than a weekend.

  She closed her eyes.

  Is that what had her feeling off? That maybe she really did want more, damn the plans?

  She dragged out the red potatoes she’d cleaned earlier and sliced them into quarters, sprinkled a few herbs and olive oil over the lot of them and put them in the oven to crisp up. Firing up the little grill on her balcony, she let that get to the perfect temperature for a couple of steaks.

  With a few minutes to kill, she forced herself not to open her work email. Instead she scanned the replies to the last blog post. She settled in to read one of her regulars who loved to argue about pretty much everything, even a hair care product that he’d never use. She chuckled through his diatribe on the traps of cosmetics and products for females, and munched her way through a handful of raw vegetables she’d cut for their salads.

  The knock at the door drew her out of her reading and she swore. Pushing at the scarf, she suddenly wanted to rip it out. If it was all pinned up then he wouldn’t put those long, glorious fingers in her hair. Cursing female vanity, she checked the peephole before swinging the door open.

  Well-worn jeans—especially along the bulge that she wanted to get her hands on—stretched across his thighs, dropping into his equally battered biker boots. A sea-green henley hugged his chest and accented muscles that sucked every last bit of spit out of her mouth.

  “If you keep looking at me like I’m dinner, it’s going to be a damn long evening, Miranda.” His voice was husky and inspired only darker thoughts that included her big bed and none of the food she’d prepared.

  She gnawed on her lower lip as he crowded in on her. Controlling herself used to be a helluva lot easier before she noticed her delivery guy. He flicked a finger down her scarf, letting the tassels flutter across her chest. His nose flared and his pupils expanded a moment before he dipped down to kiss her.

  She smiled into the taste of orange Tic Tacs. The light abrasion of his chest against hers was enough to dispel the smile. Need, fluid and overwhelming, filled her. The waffle texture of his shirt was imprinted on her fingertips before she was done with him. She wanted to rip it up and off, to get her tongue on all that suede-soft skin. Instead, she forced herself to untangle her fingers and smooth them over his chest in a light caress. The kiss still bordered on carnal, but she could and would control herself.

  MJ wasn’t going to lead her around by her hormones. Not now, not ever again.

  That’s what you think, princess.

  She swallowed down the foami
ng need and nipped at his lower lip playfully, smiling up at him. She could do this. “Hi.”

  “Hello yourself.” He slid his nose into her hair for a second then pulled back. “It smells amazing in here.”

  “Rosemary potatoes.”

  “It isn’t the potatoes.”

  Stella gave a happy bark, situating herself right between them. Nate handed Miranda the wine bottle he’d been holding and ruffled the dog’s fur, then bent down and was promptly rewarded with a totally different kind of kiss. He pushed Stella back with a playful laugh.

  Miranda pulled him inside and out to her balcony. “No way am I trading compliments and insults with you. I’ll only end up minus my pink, lace panties.”

  The growl blew down her neck, but she didn’t turn around. She was having too much fun at the moment. She glanced down at the wine bottle, surprised that it was a decent vintage and he had, in fact, listened. She led him past the table and chairs and to the railing. The city opened wide before them. He stood behind her, his nose brushing against her hair, his hands an inch away from each of hers on the battered black iron.

  Just a few days ago they’d been in a similar position, but this time the tension felt good. It felt electric, not stifling and confusing. Was this what it felt like to crave? So much of her previous experience was while riding high on drugs or the reckless need to show off. She didn’t know what to do with a guy who simply wanted her for her and not because she was MJ Lyons.

  “I love this city. When I moved into the heart of North Beach, my parents couldn’t figure out why.”

  She closed her eyes when his rough cheek nuzzled along her temple. The Embarcadero was close enough to her house that she could always find a hint of the ocean if the breeze blew just right. “Where did you grow up?”

  “The suburbs, on the edge of Little Italy,” he said on a laugh. “It was tough being the Irish family in the midst of all the Italians, but my mom made it work. She says we tried to drive her crazy, but I’m pretty sure she thrived on the chaos.”

  “Three siblings, right?” Honestly interested, she leaned back against his chest. It was so much easier to talk about someone else’s family. Hers was such a circus that the thought of suburbia made her ache in places she didn’t know she had.

  “Oh yeah. Drives Ma wild that we’re all so different too. The only one of us that takes after my dad is Noah, they’re both mechanics. Her baby is in a rock band, and Luke used to be a cop.”

  She heard the sadness in his voice and spun around, resting her hands against his chest. “Used to be?”

  He looped his arm around her back, his fingers playing with the gathered edge of her drawstring pants. His eyes were on the horizon line where mist teased the setting sun. She was pretty sure he didn’t even see the city or the sun. His lips brushed her forehead and she found herself snuggling into his arms.

  “Luke’s been going through some hard times. His girlfriend was murdered a few years ago.”

  “Oh my God.” Her fingers went right to the nape of his neck and into his hair; he moaned lightly.

  “That feels good.”

  It would be so easy to curl in and let the need to ease and comfort fall into skin on skin. Just a push into that direction and she could have him inside her again, but something told her to keep him talking. “What happened?”

  He sighed, his long fingers gentle on the small of her back as he stroked her. “Her name was April. She was sweet and funny if a little…” he trailed off.

  She could feel his indecision and it made him even more endearing. She cupped his jaw. “Not the brightest crayon in the box,” she guessed.

  He laughed and the puff of orange-flavored mint made her smile widen. “My mom would cuff my ear for even saying that, but it’s true. She was just simple in the way she looked at the world. And she had stars in her eyes for my brother. That gold shield fascinated her.”

  “Cops are sexy.”

  His hand fell back to her hip and he squeezed her ass. “Oh really?”

  She nipped his chin, flicked her tongue over the stubble and into the dent that drove her nuts. “Not as sexy as FedEx guys, but there’s definitely a draw.”

  Laughter filled his eyes and crinkled at the corners. “So now that you notice me, I’m sexy?”

  She tipped her head back with a groan. “I can’t help it. I grew up with—” She cut herself off, horrified that she almost said servants. Miranda Woods didn’t have servants. MJ Lyons had servants.

  “Grew up with…”

  Linking her arms around his neck, she grazed her tongue along his Adam’s apple to distract him. “Let’s just say the delivery guys I’ve had never looked like you.”

  With his head tipped back, she couldn’t help but taste just a little more. When he didn’t step back, she swirled the tip of her tongue around the ridge where his voice box lay and was rewarded with a vibrating moan. “Miranda.”

  Part of her wanted to push at the warning tone. To see just what she could get away with, but the other half of her knew that breaking him wasn’t what she really wanted. She kind of liked that he was so careful around her. That he worried enough to make sure she was all in on anything they did together.

  She wasn’t used to someone caring about what she thought, what she felt, and certainly not about making her happy.

  Stroking her thumb along the tiny triangle of skin at the top of his shirt, she waited for him to come back around to her. When he did, and he opened those pretty eyes of his, she grinned at the wide-open pupils.

  “You look very smug.”

  “I like that I make you crazy.”

  He groaned. “I can’t dispute that.”

  Delighted, she slipped away from him before she ruined the mood by doing something stupid. “So, what happened to April?”

  “We don’t know. I think that’s what killed my brother the most. He went undercover—he used to be an inspector with the SFPD.”

  She shivered. “God, really?”

  “Yeah, he’d been working a pretty ugly case. It used to drive us crazy that he would disappear for days, even months at a time for his job. By the time he found out April was missing, she’d been gone for weeks. No rhyme or reason to it.”

  Miranda rubbed her arms. If only Nate knew how easy it was to disappear. “What if she just didn’t want to be found?”

  “She didn’t have much of a tie to the area, and that could have been the case. But her body turned up about four weeks later.”

  She closed her eyes. The desolation and the sadness in his eyes were tough to witness. “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled her into his arms, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. “It was pretty awful, and Luke took it rough. Guilt can do a lot of damage.”

  Each word could have been a blow. Guilt caused carnage—period. She knew firsthand.

  He rubbed her back. “Wow, nice bomb to drop, huh?”

  She looked up at him. “I’m sorry your brother had to go through that.”

  “I wish he’d come out the other side the same guy.”

  “Death changes people,” she said absently.

  “You sound like you know.” At the change in his face, she wanted to saw off her tongue. How was she supposed to keep her past in the past if everything he said and did made her blurt out stupid things?

  “Just an observation.”

  He sighed, disappointment flashing once before he covered it with a smile. She instantly felt like an ass. This was the problem with getting involved with a man. Especially a man like Nate. He couldn’t help but push and prod, all in the name of getting to know her. If he knew the real her, he’d run in the opposite direction.

  “How about I feed you?”

  “I really like that idea.”

  “Go sit at the table and I’ll bring out the salads to start. Then you can show your manly prowess and grill the steaks.” Forcing back memories of her grandmother and how much her life had changed in one defining moment, she put herself in the now. Humming t
o herself, she gathered the bowls and vinaigrette she kept on hand. She glanced out the door and almost dropped everything.

  Secrets were definitely on the menu tonight, and she was burning every course.

  Nate was sitting in front of her laptop, his long fingers covering most of the keys as he scanned down the page with his thumb. He looked up at her, his smile wide. “Rated by Randy.”

  “What?” She carefully set down the bowls, knocking the salad dressing over. Nate caught it, his gaze meeting hers with raised eyebrows. She pasted a bright smile on her face. God, how could she be so stupid as to leave that open? Was it on the update tab? Or just to view the site? Had she been managing posts when she’d left to answer the door?

  He turned the laptop to face her. “Rated by Randy. I love this blog. Do you go on it a lot?”

  “It was just a link I clicked on.” She started to close the lid and he stopped her. “Nate,” she said on a nervous laugh.

  He straightened the screen against the glare of the setting sun. “Oh man, you’ve got to look at it. I’m a bit of a geek.” His cheeks reddened under his deep tan. “Way to score points with a new girl, but I suppose I should get it out of the way early.”

  “You’re not a geek if you look at a website.” Well, now. That even sounded natural. She could do this.

  “I am if I’m one of the gadget creators.” He clicked around on the site, his long fingers at home with a computer. There was no hesitation as he flicked and opened multiple windows. It wasn’t as if he was going through her personal files. He was using the web browser.

  Her fingernails dug into her palms. He was always one click away from the tab that showed her draft for her next blog post. Not to mention the other tab she had open to manage the comments.

  “Wait, did you say creator?” Her brain cleared as guilt took a backseat to curiosity. She pushed her salad bowl away and dragged her chair closer to him. The familiar web browser was fully expanded and the utilitarian blue business site she’d just looked at a few nights ago…hell, picked apart a few nights ago…was now open. “The Thumb Lock.”