by Katee Robert
Mama Leone herself had seated them near the roaring fireplace. Wine chilled in a bucket and fresh fall flowers graced their table, along with a flickering candle that added streaks of gold to Steff’s sleek brown hair. It trailed over the back of her cowl-neck top and denim jacket in a long, straight fall that nearly reached her waist. Her eyes seemed unnaturally blue, her lashes ultra-thick and dark.
What was up with his sudden fascination with her lashes? He’d never really noticed them before. Or that tiny mole next to her mouth. Or the way she looked down then up again as if she were unsure about what she was saying. Obviously he’d missed a lot.
He’d gotten a crash course in her bathroom, that was for certain. And he’d been on a sure path to an A if he kept going, but he hadn’t been able to cross that line.
His shoulders stiffened and he fought to relax them. This was their old haunt, a place where they’d spent lots of happy hours. He’d missed coming here with her so much. There was no reason to corrupt a nice family restaurant with memories of Steff’s seductive taunts or her curled lips or recollections of her curvy body, barely hidden by the towel.
But later would be a different story. Then he damn well intended to get to the bottom of things.
Steff tapped her short, clear-glossed nails against her mouth. “Feel like calamari?”
“You know it.” He flipped through his menu, then took a moment while Steff was distracted to fan himself with the laminated plastic. Had Mama Leone boosted the temperature up to ninety in here or what? “And onion rings. And garlic mozzarella sticks. Actually, let’s get a large garlic with extra garlic.”
She laughed and leaned over her menu, her dancing eyes making his stomach seize like a fist. Other areas of him were similarly affected. “You trying to stave off some vampires?”
No, he was trying to stave her off, since he couldn’t be counted on to behave appropriately in public anymore. A recurring fantasy of spreading her legs and using his tongue to explore her had tormented him since shortly after he’d entered her bathroom. He was on the verge of combusting just from the pictures playing behind his eyes.
“Yes, I am.” He stroked the earring in his pocket and fought to remember the woman who already seemed like little more than a distant memory. She was the one he should be lusting after, not Steff. Good luck there, buddy. “You know I take my vamp-slaying role seriously.”
Her dark hair fell forward to shield her face. “Whatever you’d like to order is fine with me.”
What he’d like to do was spread her out over the tablecloth and eat his fill of her.
God, his tattered control was still hanging by a thread, but being in a place like this that reminded him of their past—their safe, friendly past—helped. If he could just hang on long enough to get them back on even ground…
“Leave it to me,” he said in a gritty voice that matched the dust clogging his throat.
Whatever he liked turned out to be way too much food, and the two of them finishing off the bottle of wine. She drank more of it than he did, since he rarely imbibed, but he still had more than usual.
As the evening progressed and the alcohol swam through his bloodstream, his cares drifted away. The distance between him and Steff, being ditched at the Halloween party, the strangeness of the vibe in her bathroom—they all paled in comparison to watching color blossom on Steff’s cheeks, and the way her mouth curved at the times he least expected it.
Couldn’t a guy just go out for pizza with his best girl anymore? Why did everything have to be so complicated?
They’d gotten reacquainted, and talked about things that had happened over the last year. His change to family law, her latest crop of students, the kids’ upcoming Halloween parade, which he might stop by to watch. Casual, friendly stuff.
Nothing they’d discussed explained Steff’s flirty behavior. Not just flirty—flirty with him. It wasn’t as if he’d believed she was still a virgin, but he’d never seen this side of her before. He couldn’t decide if he loved it or if it unnerved the hell out of him. Possibly both.
Then they ended up talking about sex.
“So tell me about your lover.” He gestured to her throat and she quickly pulled up her collar. “Don’t deny that you have one. I saw the hickeys, Steff.”
“Can’t a girl have some secrets?” She ran her fingertip around the inside of her wineglass. “I’ll tell you one of mine. I’m wearing a padded push-up bra. Lifts up the girls and squeezes them together, and gives them that nice little vee that some chicks have naturally.”
Oh Jesus, what was she doing now? They’d shared all kinds of stuff over the years, but he’d never told her his preferred brand of athletic supporters. “You so don’t need one of those,” he said, and hoped like hell that was the end of it.
“I do. That’s why men never chase me. I’m not hot.” She sighed and caught a wine droplet on the pad of her finger before sucking it off with a roll of her lips that caused Landon to grab his knife to keep from lurching across the table. “I don’t mind pursuing sometimes, but it gets old, you know?” She shook her head, laughing just a shade too wildly. “God, what am I saying? What would you know about wanting to be chased?”
Rather than comment on that—or the slight blurriness of her eyes, which only made her sexier—he set aside the bottle of wine. “Think we’ve both had enough.”
She pouted prettily. “You know what else isn’t hot? Lawyers. You all suck.”
“The good ones do,” he agreed with a grin, crossing his forearms over the table and leaning forward to draw on the straw in his water.
He pinched it between his teeth when she asked, in a breathy, way-too-curious voice, “Really?”
Jeez, he’d only been kidding. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn’t seem to get them back to safe topics. Even their old conversational stomping grounds were now studded with land mines.
“I’m just wondering, because I haven’t had many lovers. And I’ve decided to change that.” She went back to dragging her fingertips through the collected drops on the inside of her wineglass and he nearly rocketed over the table to pull her hand to his mouth. “So what would you recommend? Do you think I should pursue lawyers?”
“For sex?”
“No, for cooking lessons.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve had three lovers—” She stopped, frowning, and stared at him way too hard. “Four. I’ve had four.”
Since the idea of her ever even having one—especially one recent enough to have left his marks on her skin—didn’t sit well, he rubbed his forehead and concentrated on the image of Mama Leone in her apron serving a giant pie to the couple across the aisle.
“How come you didn’t remember how many guys you’d had?” The question tumbled out without forethought. Probably due to the wine. “You remember everything.”
Duh. She didn’t remember because she’d hooked up with the other guy so recently she hadn’t adjusted her mental list yet. He’d already known that, thanks to her skin, but he didn’t appreciate the additional reminder.
“How many have you had?” she shot back.
“Guys? None.” His smile turned rueful. “Women…more than four.”
“Adding a zero at the end?”
“Not quite that many.” He hoped. He didn’t exactly know for sure. “You know that.”
His recent dry spell had been remarkably broken by the woman Friday night. Sometimes he wondered if she’d been a hallucination conjured up by his fertile imagination.
Minus the very real earring in his pocket.
“I couldn’t, because I haven’t been in your life, remember?”
The wounded note in her tone had him glancing up sharply. He pushed away the food-strewn plates between them and laced his fingers with hers around her wineglass. Realizing she was trembling, he swallowed the excuses that sprang to his tongue.
“I hurt you,” he said softly, and the sheen in her eyes as she nodded shredded his gut. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t h
ave pushed you away. There were so many times I’d think of something and want to call you, or I’d watch a certain movie and wish you were there so we could laugh about it. You were with me every day, even when you weren’t.”
She bowed her head, her hair curtaining her face again. “You didn’t shut out Craig. Just me. Why was that?”
“Craig’s a guy. He doesn’t care who I’m doing. It bothered me for you to see—”
“Why? Why do you care how I ‘see’ you?” She made little off-center air quotes. “You are how you are. No special glasses required.”
“Because it bothered you,” he realized slowly, grabbing her hand as he read the confirmation in her eyes. Answering echoes pinged in his chest. “God, Steff.”
She tugged her hand out of his grip. “You think you know me so well. I’m not a prude, Landon. I can deal with someone having an active sex life. That’s not what this is about. If it was, why wouldn’t I have an issue with Craig fucking everyone in town?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” he echoed, grinding his teeth together as she jerked her gaze away.
Her cell went off in her purse and she ignored it, choosing instead to glare at Landon over her crossed arms. Her fury shouldn’t have made her even more beautiful, but it did.
As soon as Steff’s phone stopped ringing, Lan’s cell started. “Two guesses who that is,” he said, pulling it from his pocket and lifting it to his ear. “What?” he barked. He really didn’t appreciate Craig’s intruding on his time with Steff even when he wasn’t there.
“Dude, what is wrong with you? Miss a laxative today or what?”
Landon didn’t laugh. “I’m busy.”
“With Steff?”
“Yes. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait.” Craig took an audible breath. “I was hoping you were together. Don’t let this go on any longer. Whatever it is. I don’t want the two of you to live to regret it.”
Landon pinched his nose to alleviate the pressure growing there. “Yeah. I hear you.”
“Do you? You guys are a unit, even without me.” Landon nearly let out a bitter laugh at that pearl of wisdom. He seriously doubted that at the moment. “Do what you need to do to figure shit out, man.” Craig hung up before Landon had a chance to respond.
Landon looked up to find Steff staring at him, her expression drawn. And worse, sad. “Our relationship just isn’t the same as the one I have with Craig,” she said finally.
Shock reverberated dully through his system. Honestly, he’d already suspected that, but to hear her admit it so freely? She and Craig had a closeness that she obviously valued more than her fractured relationship with him. Why wouldn’t she? Craig hadn’t bailed on her for the past year. Clearly, she was still justifiably angry over Landon’s distance.
All that taken into account, it still hurt. A lot. Even more so because he remembered how Craig and Steff had cuddled and giggled and generally formed a cozy circle of two during the year before Landon had pulled away.
“Thanks for clarifying that for me, Steff. Really appreciate it.” Landon snatched the napkin off his lap and tossed it on the table.
“Oh, you fucking moron. What is wrong with you? Why aren’t you listening to me?” She slapped a hand on the table so hard it actually shook.
He cast a quick glance around the restaurant. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why should I?” She shifted forward and her breasts pressed against her shirt in silent retaliation for everything he’d never be able to forget. Like her straining nipples as her chest rose and fell with her anger. “If you can bang your way across Warner, I can talk about how clueless you are about me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason you felt so guilty about boinking everyone in sight around me is because you didn’t see me the way you claim?”
Fuck. If she even got an inkling of how he felt, he might as well forget trying to play it cool. She’d hammer the truth out of him. Besides, he was supposed to be grilling her about what her intentions had been in the bathroom, not the other way around. “What are you saying?” It was smart to go with one of his favorite stalling moves. Make the opponent clarify their argument until it ultimately fell apart.
Or until the drunk girl gave up and he could go home to rub one out.
“Think about it, Hotshot.” He hadn’t heard that nickname from her in so long that it added just one more layer of weird to this whole conversation. “Maybe there’s more going on here than your needing to hide your sordid activities from the sensitive female folk.” She continued before he could process her words. Or close his mouth. “There are deep, dark parts of me that you have no idea exist. They would shock you, Landon.”
The deep, dark parts of her she was talking about and the one in particular that popped into his brain were not the same, he was willing to bet. “You just admitted you’re relatively inexperienced. What could you possibly shock me with?”
Steff stared at him for a long moment, then blew out a breath and shoved away from the table. She didn’t stop at the door, just strode outside and kept going.
Swearing, he tugged out his wallet and left a handful of bills on the table before chasing after her. He burst out of the front door of the restaurant and looked left, then right. No Steff. Christ, it was getting late and she shouldn’t be strolling through shadowy parking lots alone.
Before concern could get the best of him, he strode to the end of the sidewalk. He turned, prepared to cover every inch of the place if necessary, and came up short at the sight of Steff on a bench, legs crossed, the heel of her pump swinging jauntily off one foot. She’d limped a little on her way into the restaurant, though she’d shaken him off when he’d asked if her feet hurt. He’d never seen her in heels. Or naked, before a couple of hours ago.
It was turning out to be a banner day.
“You know what else?” she asked in a low voice.
He was too relieved she hadn’t been attacked in the dark to be mad at her for running away. “What?”
She rose, a ribbon unfurling that somehow became flesh and bone. Dark hair streamed from her face in the autumn breeze as she closed the few feet between them and grabbed a fistful of his sweater. “I could blow your mind,” she whispered, stunning him all over again. Between her fruity scent, full red lips, and bewitching blue eyes, she effortlessly drew him into the dark magic of her spell. She turned away, tossing the last words over her shoulder. “I could even make you beg.”
It was too much. He’d had enough of women riling him up and then taking off, without giving him a damn thing to say in the matter. Without making any frigging sense. Not this time. Not her.
He’d pushed her away in hopes of keeping them from crossing a line they couldn’t come back from, but now he wanted her back in his world. No matter what that meant. And if she really thought that she and Craig had such a wonderful thing going, maybe he should find out what exactly they had between them. If she was so certain he wasn’t seeing her correctly, maybe it was time he reevaluate their relationship. Not the one they’d had yesterday or a year ago.
The one right here and now.
He closed his hand around her wrist. She let out a soft cry as he yanked her back with enough force to tip her right out of her shoe, sending her colliding hard into his chest. He wrapped his hand around her jaw, tilting it back so they were eye-to-eye in the moonlight. Wanting to make sure there was no doubt who cradled her close.
Then he crushed his mouth to hers.
…
Even partially sober, she’d never been more giddy in her entire life.
Landon’s lips molded to hers with the familiarity they patently should not have, at least not until they’d kissed hundreds of times. The other night there had been lots of drugging kisses, but somehow they hadn’t been like this. Because he hadn’t known. He hadn’t been so rough with her mouth from the first instant, as if he’d been dying for a taste and now freely given, he demanded every bit of her.
She opened to him before his tongue e
ven pleaded his case, so ready was she to feel that slippery warmth rubbing against hers again. Hot damn, the sounds they were making, both of them. Her entire world narrowed to their rough duel of lips and tongues.
Her hands were in his hair, and his were…everywhere. On her shoulders, streaking down her back. On her ass. Lifting her, angling her into him so he could plunge that much deeper, take her that much harder. In a minute he’d plunder straight down to the depths of her without so much as raising her skirt.
And she’d let him. She’d open up every part of her for him, happily. Anything to keep this crazy, uncontrollable feeling inside of her, so much more than she’d ever experienced. Even the other night didn’t compare, because he hadn’t been making love to Steff, his best friend. He’d been fucking a stranger who shared her heartbeat.
Somehow she’d betrayed herself by taking everything she’d ever wanted. By stealing it, in case she never found the words to tell him she needed him that much.
Being with him Friday night had written the first chapters, and kissing him now penned more of the story. He centered her, made her feel whole. She loved his smiles, his jokes, the way he brushed her hair aside and kissed her forehead as if her skin were no more than silken wrapping paper protecting a treasured gift.
Loved him, without doubt.
“Come home with me,” she breathed, and she sure didn’t mean for a bedtime snack. She wanted him in her bed, and she wanted to make him forget that other woman had ever existed. Meaning…her.
Every time his attention wandered during dinner, she’d wondered if he was remembering dancing with her. Sliding into her, making her come. Splintering that fictional foxy lady into the woman she’d been before Landon Grant, and the woman after. Hell of a thing to be in competition with yourself.
Breathing raggedly, he stepped back. “You know we can’t do this.”
“Really?” She couldn’t keep the snap of resentment out of her tone. He sure hadn’t hesitated the other night at the party. “I thought we already were.”