Then He Kissed Me

by Christie Ridgway

  He was going to enjoy kissing that smirk off her face. Their mouths met and she jerked away. “Hot,” she said.

  The candy. “Mmm,” he agreed and reached behind him to grab a couple more. He tossed them in his mouth and then slid his hand around Stevie’s neck to pull her to him again.

  He tucked one cinnamon sweet between his cheek and his back teeth and pushed the other in her mouth with his tongue. Maybe it was the extra source of heat, but something had her melting against him. With a hand on the small of her back, he used the other to unwind the scarf at her throat. He let it drift to the floor as he peppered her neck with kisses.

  When he widened his stance, she cradled closer to his groin. The rub of her lower body shot another spike of lust into his bloodstream. He bent lower, taking her breast into his mouth over sweater and bra. She made a sound and he bit down, trying to reach her nipple through the thick layers of fabric.

  It wasn’t enough. He spun around to boost her to the desk and then yank her sweater free of that high-waisted skirt. Her breasts heaved over the top of her bra as he whipped her upper garment over her head and let it fly. Then he tucked her bra cups beneath her breasts, too impatient to remove that, and applied himself to her hard, tight nipples. She jerked into his mouth, making him wonder if she felt the extra heat of the candy there, too.

  He popped more of them into his mouth, rolling the Red Hots against the tight furls of her flesh. Stevie slammed her hands against the desktop to maintain position. It thrust her breasts forward.

  He sucked on them harder.

  His heart was slamming against his chest. There was a matching throb in his groin, a driving need to have more of her, to make it last. He wanted to suck her like he savored those cinnamon candies.

  Talk about a fantasy.

  He hooked his foot around one of the visitors’ chairs and dragged it forward. Then he shoved Stevie’s skirt high, taking in those thigh-high tights, then the tiny black panties that had a little frill around each leg opening. The lights were on, he didn’t feel any panic, but he might still be having some sort of attack.

  She didn’t resist when he drew up her legs so the soles of her boots also rested on the top of the desk. “Jack. God, Jack.”

  “My turn,” he reminded her. “My fantasy.”

  Putting another handful of candy in his mouth, he sank onto the chair, putting him right at the level of those cute little panties.

  He teased the little ruffles around one leg. “See? It’s not so terrible to let a boy see this.”

  Her voice was faint. “Jack. I … What are you doing?”

  Payback. Lust abatement. Keeping the focus strictly on the physical. He didn’t know which was the right answer, only that he was in control this way. Like this, he could take her up, make her fly, make it less … less

  Less something.

  He rolled the candies around with his tongue. Glancing up, he saw that she was looking at him, her eyes sleepy, that blow-job mouth pouting. Pretty, she was so damn pretty. He felt his chest make that weird, tender twinge again, so he let his gaze drop to the apex of her thighs.

  Oh, sweet Georgia corn in the morning, there was a wet spot on her panties. His angel was a bad girl, too, just as he wanted her to be. This little fantasy of his was kind of raunchy, he knew that, and not every woman could let herself go with it. Go with him.

  “Jack,” she whispered in entreaty, a tremor passing through her erotically posed body.

  “Shh. We’ll get there,” he said.

  Then he curled his finger under one of the elastic edges between her thighs and pulled it to one side, revealing deep pink petals, glistening like fruit dripping with dew. He groaned. He was going to get his fill of this, of her, he decided, tonight. He was going to make it last long enough for a lifetime.

  The last Red Hot melted on his tongue. Then he leaned closer to Stevie, pulling at her panties to reveal more of her soft, pretty parts. More of her chatte. He blew a stream of warm air across her clitoris.

  She moaned.

  He smiled, settling in for a long banquet of her needy sounds. The flat of his tongue stroked her hardened nub.

  And she came.

  Just like that. Hard, fast, and then it was over.

  Shocked, he stared up at her.

  She looked back, wearing that tiny self-satisfied smile again.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. Damn her. While he was happy to have pleased her, he knew she was happier because it had been accomplished with such speed. With such a lack of intimacy.

  She’d done it again! Sex like a man.

  And damn him. Because really, for a careless, casual man like himself, shouldn’t that be enough?

  Then He Kissed Me

  13

  ************************************************************************************************

  Stevie gazed down on the files she’d spread upon the desk in Allie’s - their - office. The desktop computer was up and running, the monitor displaying the master calendar for the next six months. The time she’d committed to Tanti Baci.

  Of course that didn’t mean she’d given up Napa Princess Limousine, but she was going to have to find a way to make a go of both. Allie had been ecstatic at the news that Stevie was going to job-share with her and was already full of ideas about how they could divide the duties.

  Stevie hadn’t confessed to her sister that she wasn’t nearly as excited about the arrangement. As she’d realized at the end of the meeting with the Bennetts, by making the commitment to Tanti Baci, she was putting her heart into it. And if things went south … that’s where her heart would go, too.

  Sliding into the desk chair, she blew out a sigh and then spun away from the paperwork. She didn’t know why she felt unsettled, but her stomach was in knots and her temples pounded. Taking in another long breath, she let it out slowly, willing the sense of disquiet to dissipate.

  Brash, bold, strong Stephania Baci had never felt so shaky.

  A knock on her door spun her back. “Come in,” she called, eager for the distraction.

  Roxy Parini popped into the room.

  “Oh,” Stevie said. “Hi.”

  “You have to hide me,” the blonde announced. “I promise not to be a bother, but I’m desperate to get away from my mother.”

  Stevie cocked an eyebrow.

  “You’ve met her, right? We were taking a tour of the wine caves, but now she’s determined to whisk me back to the resort so she can experiment with pageant updos for the wedding.”

  “Uh…”

  “Beehives, Stevie. She wields a mean ratting comb. You might think I’m kidding, but from there it’s just a small step to wearing a crown for the ceremony. Let me hide in here and I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  Roxy made a face. “Okay, I know I interrupted your plans with Jack last night and I apologize for that. But she’s relentless! Merciless! When she started talking about me wearing elbow-length gloves and my paternal grandmother’s diamond-and-emerald choker, I had to make the emergency call for reinforcements. Forgive me? I’m so sorry.”

  Stevie wasn’t sorry, not so much. It had been within moments of that incredible episode on the desk - her belly tightened just thinking of it - and if Jack hadn’t received his sister’s phone call and then taken off, she would probably have escaped alone to a dark corner of the nearest utility closet.

  It was one thing to confidently strut toward him when he was talking about fulfilling his fantasies, and an entirely different one to face him down in the trembling afterglow of sizzling physical intimacy - in her office! On the desk! Maybe a man could handle it with aplomb, but she was still working on her skills in that department.

  “You’re forgiven, Roxy,” she said. “Don’t give it another thought.”

  “I’m afraid Jack won’t let it go so easily. He growled and snarled and was generally bad-tempered all night long.”

  Stevie shrugged a shoulder. Deciphering Jack and his moods wasn’t something sh
e planned on adding to her agenda, which was full enough. As if to prove that fact, the desk phone rang.

  Roxy snagged a bridal magazine from a stack by the door and dropped into one of the visitors’ chairs. “Pretend I’m not in the room. I’ll just sit here and quietly read.”

  The call didn’t take long and even after it was over, Roxy kept silent as promised. For about forty seconds. When Stevie stood to rummage through the top drawer of the file cabinet, she looked up.

  “Oh, pretty,” she said, nodding at Stevie’s outfit.

  She flushed, and rubbed her hand over her hip. The stretchy black skirt was fitted to the knees. She’d paired it with black-and-white flats. On top was a slinky violet camisole that she’d covered with an amethyst cardigan that had silky ruffles around the buttons. Amethyst drops hung from her ears.

  As a representative of Tanti Baci, now that she was actually working at the winery, she’d turned to her meager supply of skirts. She’d thought it best to accentuate her feminine side when she met with brides.

  “Jack’s tongue will fall out,” his sister said.

  “I didn’t dress for him,” Stevie said quickly. “I have no plans to see him today.”

  Roxy smiled. “As if he’d stay away.”

  The promise only served to add to Stevie’s general uneasiness as she flipped through the files, absorbing virtually nothing of the information they contained. Her life had been tumbling out of control since the day Jack had stepped into her life. From the smoldering attraction to the impromptu engagement, he’d unsettled her at every turn. She was aware she needed to refind her center, but so far it was eluding her.

  Maybe her restlessness telegraphed itself to Roxy, because she started fidgeting, too. Her knee jiggled as she flipped through the glossy pages of a half-dozen magazines. Then she checked her cell phone, dug through her purse for a lipstick, and finally got to her feet to pace the small area.

  At the shelving with the wedding cake toppers, she halted. With her hands behind her back, she gave them each a serious inspection. Then she reached out to touch one miniature bride with a fingertip.

  “Is something the matter?” Stevie asked. When the other woman didn’t respond, she tried again. “Uh, Roxy?”

  Roxanne started, her hand jerking down. “I wasn’t -” She blew out a breath. “Sorry, just a little jumpy.”

  “A little?”

  She gave a rueful smile over her shoulder. “I am being disruptive, aren’t I? Sorry for that, too.”

  “You don’t have to apologize…” Stevie started.

  “Yes, I do.” Roxy whirled to face her. “That’s exactly what I have to do. I’m thinking that’s what’s wrong. Maybe that’s why I’ve been, so, um, uh impulsive lately.”

  Stevie blinked. “Huh?”

  “I haven’t been honest and I need to get this all off my chest.”

  The pretty young woman did not have cankles or a wart, as Stevie had originally imagined, but she was starting to feel very sorry for her anyway. Her face was pale, and she looked as if she’d lost some weight in the last couple of weeks. Imagining the disaster if the wedding gown didn’t fit, Stevie supposed it was in her best interests to soothe the bride in any way possible.

  She indicated the chair across the desk. “Feel free to say whatever you’d like.”

  Roxy spun back to the wedding cake toppers instead of taking a seat. Her fingertip stroked the bouquet held by the tiny bride. Then she played with the nuptial couple line-up, moving the ones from the rear to the front and vice versa.

  “Roxy?” Stevie asked, knowing there’d be no peace with all this anxiety crowding the room. “What’s the matter?”

  She mumbled something about Emerson.

  “What?”

  “I stole Emerson from you.”

  Cold rushed over Stevie’s skin, then heat prickled at the back of her neck. “You did what?”

  “I stole him.” She glanced over her shoulder, went back to perusing the cake toppers. “I knew he had a girlfriend. He mentioned it the first night we metwhich was totally by accident, by the way. But I knew about you from the very first and I went after him anyway. He hadn’t broken up with you when we began dating.”

  The burn on Stevie’s neck didn’t abate. She’d wondered about the timing between Emerson’s breakup with her and then the appearance of a new woman in his life so shortly afterward. But men were like that, weren’t they? They didn’t see the need for a decent interval between one woman and the next.

  Everything was casual with them.

  Jack was like that - he made no secret of it.

  But she hadn’t wanted to believe that Emerson had actually valued her so little that he’d cheated on her. Betrayed her.

  With Roxy, who’d been a partner in the crime.

  What he’d said when ending things with her had, if she was honest with herself, hurt, but now … Now humiliation curdled in her belly and she wished to be anywhere but in a small room with the woman who had thought nothing of robbing Stevie.

  She didn’t want to know this! She didn’t want to be here! She didn’t want to care about anything: not what Emerson had done, not whether the winery would survive, not

  Not anything.

  “I think…” She had to swallow. “I think you’d better leave.”

  Roxy whirled again, her hands in fists at her sides. “I wish you wouldn’t make me. I wish you’d let me explain.”

  “Don’t bother,” Stevie said, forcing out the words. “Obviously it’s not all your fault. Obviously Emerson wasn’t taken from me against his will. But I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

  “We have to,” Roxy insisted. “Don’t you see? Because we’re going to be family.”

  Oh, God. Stevie put the heel of her hand to her head. Would it be better or worse if she confessed the truth to the princess? What a tangled web

  “We’re going to be sisters,” Roxy continued.

  “Even if we are…” Stevie’s head hurt so bad she had to stop again.

  Roxanne pressed the flat of her hand to her chest. “I want you to understand that when I met Emerson, I’d just decided to change my life.”

  Stevie stood. “Well, good for you, but -”

  “The man who’d kidnapped us had just died in a shoot-out.” Roxy’s mouth trembled. “As well as his latest victim.”

  Stevie’s knees gave out. Her butt hit the seat of the chair and she again put her hand to her head. “God.”

  “Emerson said he told you about the kidnapping,” Roxy said, with her big eyes and pale face looking not a day older than the fourteen she’d been at the time of her abduction. “They caught the guy, and his accomplice - his sister. He spent nine years in prison and was out only two days before he kidnapped another child. There was a standoff and ultimately the two were killed.”

  “God.”

  “For ten years I’d been in a kind of prison, too. Neither Jack nor I lived in Ardenia again. We found different ways to cope with our memories. I hunkered down. Didn’t ever go out, didn’t date. And then, after those two deaths, I realized I might as well be dead, too, if I continued living like that. So I went to my first party in forever and I … I fell in love.”

  Stevie didn’t know what to say. She stared at Roxy, cold and hot rushing over her again.

  The younger woman gave a little smile. “Nothing would have stopped me from grabbing what I wanted. Who I wanted - Emerson. Nothing. Not after finally waking up to how easy it was to lose everything. Could you … could you possibly understand that?”

  Could Stevie understand? She’d lost her mother and her father. Her sister Allie’s fiancé had died on the morning of their wedding day. People went away, things, too, even things like the land and the winery that had been in the family for over one hundred years.

  But she’d been trying to distance herself from all of that understanding by walking away from the wine business and opening her limousine service. She’d put space between herself and everyone and everything sh
e had lost … and was terrified of losing.

  Yet here she was, back in the heart of her family and in the heart of the family business.

  Stevie found herself on her feet again, despite the continued pounding in her head and the turbulence in her stomach. “Don’t worry, Roxanne,” she said, brushing past the other woman to exit the office. “I do understand.”

  Only too well.

  *****

  Stevie retreated to Anne and Alonzo’s cottage to nurse her new wounds. It wasn’t the tumbled-down-yet-picturesque adobe it had been when she was a child. Now getting through the front doors required a key. The renovated interior boasted gleaming wood floors and freshly painted walls. The massive rock fireplace was original, though, and she drifted toward it, remembering how she’d set up camp beside it as a girl.

  In a flash of memory, she saw her father standing there, too, with her little sister on his hip as he told yet another story from the Baci past. Allie had always been Papa’s little girl, while Jules was their mother’s shadow. Stevie had orbited outside the planet-moon relationships of the two pairs. The outsider.

  The one without tight attachments to other people.

  That should work for her now. It wasn’t as if she’d been so certain her relationship with Emerson was destined for marriage. His dishonesty should be easy to shrug away.

  After her buddy Jeff’s ugly breakup with a girlfriend, she’d once accompanied him to the local tavern prepared to commiserate over beers. But Jeff had been all smiles that night, and when she’d questioned his happy mood, he’d claimed it was a man’s natural aptitude. “We just cut the blood flow to the part that hurts. Goes numb in no time.”

  That’s what she was going to do, she decided, starting right this instant. Freeze the part in pain.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and wandered to the windows overlooking the vineyard. A large group of visitors was gathered beside the vines as one of the interns played guide. Stevie ran her gaze over the people on tour and found herself wondering how many had cheated, how many had been cheated upon.