by Shara Lanel
Haden coughed once more. “Ah, since this is a pub, I recommend either a pint of Guinness or an Irish Rickey.”
“I’ll be brave and try an Irish Rickey.”
“Excellent choice.” Haden pulled out a highball glass, added some ice, then chopped a lime in two on the cutting block. He squeezed juice from half the lime over the ice, squirted in some carbonated water, and ended with a generous amount of whiskey. “A quick stir and voila!” He handed her the glass.
She sipped the drink cautiously. “Excellent!” Liquid warmth traveled down her throat to her stomach.
Haden smiled before filling a pint of Guinness for himself. The images in his head reflected her smile and the swell of her breasts, making her wish she’d had time to change into something besides her store polo. Especially when he pictured wrapping his arms about her waist and grinding his body against her ass. The image grew in dimension until she felt like she was inside his body, enjoying the friction on his erection as it moved against her ass. The pressure was maddening, arousing him even more because their clothes were in the way. He held her in place with his arm, so his skin would brush against the bottom of her breasts. None of this was enough. He wanted more.
Kit’s nipples responded to Haden’s lusty thoughts and the flaming whiskey.
He sipped the Guinness again and said, “One final part of the tour, madam.”
He lifted the counter divider so she could follow him into the dining area, and she found herself staring at his backside, thinking about reaching around him to rub his shaft through his pants and rubbing her breasts up and down on his back. It took some effort to pull her eyes away as he spread his arms wide and said, “Here is Blackie’s Pub.”
Every wood surface gleamed. Low-light sconces accented the thick dark beams against the pale walls. Paintings of foxhunts and horse races hung at various intervals, all in heavy wood frames. Occasionally a horse bridle, riding crop, or antique Guinness sign adorned the walls. The whole effect was warm, cozy, and overwhelmingly masculine. She could see men coming here after work, unwinding with a beer before heading home to their wives. There was a tiny alcove with a raised platform that seemed to be a stage.
“What goes there?”
Images popped into his mind before he answered, so she knew what he was going to say. “A singer or two, probably acoustic, maybe with a guitar or accordion. Anything more than that would be too much since the place is so small.”
Kit took another sip of her drink. She could sense his pride. It was in his face and his stance as well as in his mind. It helped soften the blow from when she’d first met him and he’d thought about taking over her store. She wouldn’t let him do that, of course. But she understood his pride of ownership, that feeling of accomplishing something that others would hopefully enjoy.
“Haden, this place is gorgeous. I really think it’s going to be very successful.” And she was torn about her own hopes for the place. Would its success mean more customers for her? Or just chaos and noise pollution and drunks? She had to remind herself that change was a way of life ‑‑ she’d studied the Tao Te Ching in college, and this was one of its basic ideas ‑‑ and that change could be very good. For example, here she was, standing in a dimly lit restaurant with the sexiest man she’d ever met. They were clothed now, later they could be naked.
Oh, yes, change could be very good.
Except sometimes change made you end up in a mental institution.
“Thank you. I hope so.” Haden gestured to a table in the center of the dining room set with two plates, silverware, and white cloth napkins. “Your chair, madam.” He pulled the rustic straight-backed chair out for her, and once she sat, helped her push it into place. He leaned in and lit the candle with a lighter. “One moment.”
The curtains were drawn at the front of the pub, hiding the parking lot from view. They’d been drawn all week, and before that, newspaper and bags had covered the plate glass. This week BLACKIE’S PUB had been hand stenciled onto the front windows and the door glass, and a sign that matched the style of the shopping center had been added to the awning out front.
Haden returned with an open bottle of Chardonnay perched within a bucket of ice. He added two wineglasses to the table, but set the bucket on the adjacent table.
“On the menu this evening is seared filet mignon coated with Blackie’s secret rub, plus a side of sautéed vegetables and roasted new potatoes. Does that sound to your liking, madam?”
“Indeed it does, sir.”
“Please excuse me while I cook this up for you.” Ooh, a man who could cook…every woman’s dream!
Haden disappeared into the back. Suddenly, music floated through speakers in the ceiling. It was Celtic New Age music, light and romantic. Kit heard clanking, followed by sizzling from the kitchen. Soon the smell of cooking beef wafted toward her. Heavenly. Her mouth watered. She sat with her hands in her lap, feeling a bit nervous. Her thighs flexed together, and she stroked one thumb with the other. Haden’s waiter act was cute, but it also left her wondering about how he acted in other situations. Did he have a family? She hadn’t caught anyone in his thoughts other than that blonde woman, and who was she exactly? Past or present? Fantasy or real? Hopefully Kit could get him to open up during their meal.
Her mind slipped to Fergus. She’d all but forgotten about her poor dog. The Golden Retriever was used to long evenings alone. A couple of neighbor girls let him out in the afternoon and took him for a walk. She sometimes felt guilty owning a dog when she worked such long hours, but Fergie had been with her for several years now. He was so sweet, so beautiful, and the one creature whose mind she couldn’t read. And because of his size, she felt safer living alone, despite the fact that he wouldn’t kill a flea on his back.
What could she say to Haden to get the conversation rolling when he brought the food? She could ask him if he had a pet or liked pets or whatever. Dog or cat person? She hated this awkwardness. If she could just focus on the horniness and skip right to some kissing, she’d be happy. More than kissing ‑‑ skip to the two of them getting naked on the floor. Yeah, that would work.
* * * * *
Haden decided to cook the meat a bit more thoroughly than he liked it. Some women got turned off by rare beef, and that certainly wasn’t his goal tonight.
It should be your goal, dumb ass. He wished his rational mind were a person, so he could tell it to go screw itself.
He flipped the beef. Everything was sizzling nicely and smelling good enough to make his stomach growl and his mouth water. The filets should be melt-in-her-mouth tender.
Melt in her mouth…Haden’s thoughts thankfully veered off course. Melting in her mouth. Her mouth on him, first his lips where they could share the taste of wine, then his chin where his five o’clock shadow would abrade her tongue. The curly hairs on his chest would tickle her nose as her mouth explored his nipples and his navel, before moving lower, still circling the head of his hard cock, taking it deep against her soft and melting throat.
Great, he was going to burn their dinner if he wasn’t careful. He was glad she was in the other room for the moment and not watching him cook. Too distracting.
Forcing his thoughts onto another tack, he wondered what they should talk about. Their businesses, sure. The more he knew about hers, the easier it would be to acquire it.
Oh, man! You are scum of the earth, standing here imagining her sucking you off while you plot to take over her store space.
Well, one didn’t necessarily have to do with the other. He hadn’t expected to like the owner of the DVD store. He’d expected the owner to be a man, or part of a chain, or at the very least, someone older.
He could look at taking over the space on the far side, but the fabric store had been in the shopping center for twenty years, according to the owners. He could see where ousting them would cause a lot more ruffled feathers.
Since when have you cared about that?
Well, it was good business to take the most tactful approach possible,
but it wasn’t always possible. Maybe instead of expanding this store, he should consider multiple locations. More capital outlay. Business decisions had to be made with the bottom line in mind, not with his cock.
He tapped the beef. Just the right consistency. He didn’t need to slice it open. He knew exactly how much pink remained within. Pink within. Damn, all he could think about was sex tonight!
He loaded two plates with food and hurried to the dining room. He didn’t want to leave his guest alone too long, and this late at night she had to be starving.
“Here you go, madam.” He placed the plate in front of her and noted that she’d laid the napkin across her lap. Before sitting, he poured them each a glass of wine. Once he did sit down, he had the urge to howl. The woman was yummy. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight as she sipped the wine. And that vanilla scent, it carried even over the beef. It was like he was hyper attuned to it. He wanted to gobble the steak in one piece, forget dessert, and get right down to the seduction.
The lady would not likely be impressed.
She cleared her throat. “It looks delicious.” She cut a forkful, ate it, and a low moan escaped her throat. “Oh, this is heavenly.”
He grinned. “My chef’s an even better cook than I am.”
“I’m going to grow so fat having this place next to the store.”
“Then it will be a mutually beneficial relationship.”
Her eyes narrowed for a moment, but then they crinkled with her smile. Hmm. What had she been thinking?
After a few moments of silent eating, she said, “So, are you a dog person or a cat person?”
He nearly choked. “Oh, a dog person, definitely.”
Her smile widened. “Excellent! I have a dog named Fergus.”
“What breed?”
“Fergus is a Golden Retriever.”
“Those are beautiful dogs.”
“Yes. Do you have a dog?”
In a manner of speaking. “No. I’m never around enough to deal with a pet.” What would Kit’s reaction be if he explained it all right here and now? Best case scenario, she’d avoid him like the plague. Worst case? She’d have him committed.
Kit sighed. “Yes, I’m neglecting Fergie. I’m usually home by now. I just feel safer with him around, you know.”
“So you live alone, other than Fergus?”
“Yes. I shared an apartment with some college friends for quite a while, but last summer, when I turned thirty, I decided it was time to act like an adult, so I bought a house.”
“You turned thirty?” He studied her face, making his doubt plain.
“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s true.”
The corners of his lips quirked up. “Well, you’re holding up amazingly well for your age.”
She threw her napkin at him. “Fiend!”
He caught the napkin and laughed. “I think you may have lost something.” When he reached across the table to return her cloth, a light blush shaded her cheeks, and their fingers brushed.
“What about family? Are you from here originally?” Kit asked, smoothing the napkin on her thighs.
Haden’s smile froze in place. He hated the family question. He pictured the only mother and father he’d known in his mind’s eye, but they weren’t his real family. He knew that now. He loved them, but he resented the secret they’d hid from him for so long.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I was adopted, is all. My adopted parents were wonderful, but I guess I still haven’t gotten over them not telling me until I was an adult, and by then, I already knew.”
“How old were you when you found out?”
Unbidden, his mind produced a memory of looking at himself in the bathroom mirror as hair grew instantly on his chin and cheeks, nose and forehead. He’d been petrified, though he’d sensed the change coming on ever since the onset of puberty. His teeth would grow wicked sharp once a month, and his voice would get odd and scratchy. He’d catch himself sort of growling at people. And he’d crave raw meat. The image in the mirror had not stopped with hair. His teeth had grown pointed, and his nose had elongated. Just as that had happened, he’d dropped to the ground on all fours.
“I suspected when I turned sixteen.” He tried to shake the image. “But my parents didn’t admit it until I was in my twenties. We were a don’t-ask-don’t-tell family.”
Kit’s eyes widened. Then she started coughing, really coughing. Her face turned red and her eyes watered.
“Kit, are you all right? Are you choking? Do you need the Heimlich?”
Blame It on the Moon
Chapter Four
She shook her head and held up a hand indicating that she was okay.
Oh, my God, oh, my God! What was that? What was in his mind? He turned into a dog, a wolf. Was that real? Had that really happened? Kit focused on Haden’s face. He was looking at her with concern, reaching across the table to pat her on the back. Clean shaven. No extra hair. No long fangs.
Of course it wasn’t real, you dolt! She’d seen something from a movie, a fantasy in his mind. Nothing else made sense. Or maybe it was her brain. Maybe she was having a nervous breakdown after reading all these minds.
“Kit, are you okay?”
She stopped coughing as she slowly sipped some water. Okay, she was feeling calmer. Haden’s thoughts reflected her and nothing else. “I’m okay. Something went down the wrong pipe, I guess.”
They both paused for a moment. Kit’s breathing returned to normal. She took a larger-than-usual swig of wine to calm herself further. Ah, much better, and Haden’s view of her assured her that she didn’t look the worse for wear.
“Are you up for dessert, then?” he asked, concerned. “Or would you like me to take you home?”
She smiled, hoping she looked reassuring. “You’ll make me fat yet. Is it chocolate cake?”
He pictured something before he spoke, and she knew she wanted it, although it wasn’t exactly “dessert.” He had her naked on a bed with his hands between her thighs, tracing slowly higher from behind her knees to her heated center. His lips surrounded one nipple as he thought, Tasty. He was imagining his fingers slipping inside her vagina and how she’d moan as he switched to the other nipple and sucked it in deeply.
Holy shit!
“Alas, the workers ate the chocolate cake today, so for dessert, crème brûlée. Will that suffice?” And how did he manage to keep track of the conversation with those movies in his mind?
To hell with crème brûlée ‑‑ she wanted his hands touching her the way they were in his mind. She wanted to rip the buttons off his shirt and push the thing away so she could lick the curls on his chest and trace the outline of his lean muscles. Her panties were so wet now that she was embarrassed, but that wetness meant that his shaft would ease right into her, widening her passage, making her feel so good.
Her nipples strained against her bra, itchy, hot, and hard. She clenched her thighs together again and swallowed.
“Crème brûlée sounds delicious.” She hoped the gruffness of her voice wasn’t giving away the state of her body. The lighting was dim. That had to help things. Then again, maybe she wanted him to know how aroused she was. She certainly wanted to yell, “Take me!” and only years of social inhibitions prevented her from doing so.
Haden clenched his hands into fists and concentrated on not stalking, not growling, and not grabbing Kit up and throwing her across the table so he could strip her naked and fuck her. None of those things were appropriate, but goddamn, he could smell her arousal as clear as day. The musky odor from her pussy juices nearly had him losing all control. He could clearly see the state of her tits, standing erect, demanding he suck them, to hell with her bra and shirt. When she licked along her lower lip, it didn’t matter that he knew she did it unconsciously. It felt like an invitation. He wanted to replace her tongue with his own, eat her up, devour her. He wanted to lift her face-forward onto the count
er, spread her wide, and plunge his dick into her hard, until he found relief.
Unfortunately, she’d asked for the crème brûlée instead.
He closed his eyes the minute he reached the kitchen and sucked in lots of air. Holy shit! He was losing control here. It was still a couple weeks until the full moon, so why was he going so nuts? He’d just met the woman. She wasn’t dressed like a slut or anything. She was in a store uniform, totally boring, but every cell in him wanted to take her, claim her, right then. And he wanted to be rough with her. Could she take it? Could she handle him taking her from behind, doggy-style? He wanted to find out. She appeared petite, but she’d remained calm and sensible when faced with a man with a gun. Somehow Haden knew she could handle it rough and hot.
Was there something more to this than simple attraction?
His cock strained against his jeans, feeling way too full and heavy. In fact, it was almost painful.
“Crème brûlée, crème brûlée.” He repeated it like a mantra, hoping that would calm him down and keep him on task. He found the sugar-crusted dessert in the fridge. He refused to believe that this instant lust had anything to do with his beast. He’d been abstinent too long, too focused on opening the pub, so it was lust, pure and simple. And keeping it simple was the key.
Haden stopped by the bar, desserts in hand, and added a swirl of amaretto to the top of each for a little extra flavor and a couple of maraschino cherries. Staring at the cherries for far too long, he pictured Kit’s mouth sucking each fruit from its stem, her mouth closing around the redness, holding it in place, her tongue licking the syrup from her lips.
Ugh, there was no way he was going to make it through this evening without taking her.
Haden had gone to the kitchen, gotten dessert, and he still had that erotic movie playing in his head. Kit could scream, but then she spotted the sugary crust on the top of the crème brûlée, her absolute favorite dessert, and she was momentarily distracted. His lustful thoughts added a hint of spice as she dug into the creamy dessert and slipped it into her mouth to savor. She spotted the crestfallen look on Haden’s face. Tee-hee. He’d hoped she’d want to skip dessert and move onto other things, perhaps? Never! And the crème brûlée was awesome. Incredible. Better than sex. Well, it depended on who she was having sex with. Better than most sex.