by Olivia Brynn
Tyrell was on his feet, wiping his hands on a wet-nap, watching their departure. Damn the man was good. Adam put on his dark glasses and made it back to the car without incident.
He waited until she'd buckled in before and he tapped a quick text message to Tyrell. Adam didn't know where Tyrell had parked, but he'd insist on following them.
She gave him directions to her house, and even apologized about making him drive her all the way home.
As if it bothered him to take her home, he smiled.
Well, it worked. Other than the little episode with the hostess, Adam's little production went off without a hitch. He would have to make another visit to Buster's in the near future just to be seen. That might boost their business a bit as a thank you. Of course he couldn't have done it without Carley and Tyrell. Carley had told him how she had to promise Buster's management he'd have no more than two alcoholic drinks before they gave in to his request. That was a big-ass bitter pill to swallow.
"Thank you for dinner."
He'd walked her up the stairs of her house just as the sun dipped behind the trees. The dying rays only highlighted the red in her hair, making it all but crackle with life. God, he wanted to touch it. See if it was as soft as it looked.
Adam wasn't used to restraining himself; he was accustomed to taking whatever he wanted. Of course he rarely had to fight for it either. Especially for the favors of a woman. He'd already put one hand against her neck, and buried his fingers in that luscious hair before he remembered that he wanted to go slow with this one.
She held her breath at his touch. Had he blown it? He didn't want to scare her, but for the life of him, he couldn't step away. In fact, as he warred with himself, he actually moved a step closer. Near enough to fill his lungs with her floral scent. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to continue looking at him with those gorgeous green eyes. The movement spotlighted her long slender neck, and his mouth watered at the prospect of tasting her flesh.
"You're very beautiful," he whispered, holding her head steady with one hand, while the other snaked around her waist. As much as he wanted to bury himself in her softness, he merely brought their bodies close enough for their clothes to brush. He felt her breasts against his chest. Through the layers of clothing he felt the pebbly evidence of her desire.
"Thank you." She tilted her head, which he took as an invitation to kiss her neck. "You're pretty easy on the eyes as well." She draped her arms over his shoulders.
He growled, and pressed his lips against the tender skin beneath her ear. God, she smelled good, and tasted even better. He swiped his tongue along the tendon in her neck, and was rewarded with a shiver.
"I want to kiss you, but I don't want to scare you away." His heart pounded so hard, he was sure she could feel it against hers. "Tell me I won't." He looked at her, hoping she'd say what he wanted to hear.
She shook her head. "I'm not afraid of you Adam."
Beautiful. His name on her mouth looked…well, beautiful. He traced her lips with the tip of his middle finger. From the bow on the top, to one corner, and across the fullness of the lower one. Just as he finished the course, her tongue traced his path. His breath caught when the wet tip met his fingertip and held. Her lips closed around his digit, and all went black. All but the pulsing warm light he could feel inside him. She sucked, drawing him deeper inside her warm mouth, and a strangled gurgle came from nowhere, loud enough to pull him back into awareness. He blinked, now realizing he'd pinched his eyes closed, and the sound had come from his own throat.
What the hell was that? He searched her face for answers, but she looked up at him with an innocent desire, her pupils dilated, his finger still resting against her soft mouth. He only moved his hand when his mouth descended, and covered hers.
He couldn't get enough of how she tasted. Wine. Cool wine and crisp summer sunshine. Never before had he actually tasted a kiss. Song lyrics that described sweet lips, and sugar kisses never meant anything to him. He'd always figured all kisses tasted the same. He was wrong.
He sent his tongue deeper into her mouth, searching for every hidden secret. When her tongue rubbed against his, he experienced the same warmth as before. All thoughts of scaring her were abandoned, and he enveloped her in his arms. She stepped impossibly closer to him, flattening her breasts against his chest. The insane heat from that connection flooded him. He could still feel her nipples through their layers of clothing, teasing his skin. When she adjusted her body, he had to consciously restrain his hands from seeking out the pleasure those breasts promised. She had to feel his erection against her hip; there was no way he could hide it, so he pressed tighter against her. After a small sound escaped her, she moved against his rigid flesh, pulling another moan from his gut.
He angled his head, deepening the kiss, his mind working on the logistics of getting inside this woman. Now. Through the haze of desire, he saw a wide wooden porch swing, hanging from the ceiling on thick chains. Potted plants. He'd have to navigate around them. Her jeans, they'd have to at least get one leg free, his could just drop below his hips.
"Jade?" The deep voice came through the heavy oak door. Adam reluctantly pulled away from her just as she lifted her lids, revealing brilliant green irises. "Is that you?"
"Give me a minute Dean." The huskiness in her voice sent another spasm to Adam's cock. She wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her.
But not now. Not on her porch. Jesus, Adam. Get a hold of yourself. You're a grown man, not some horny fifteen-year-old. He opened his mouth to apologize, but stopped. She didn't know where his mind took him.
"I need your phone number," he said instead.
She fumbled through her purse for a pen, but rather than writing on a piece of paper, or an old gum wrapper as he'd expected, she took his hand in hers, inked the numbers on his palm, and sealed it with a long kiss.
"That was sexy."
"I don't want you to use the excuse that you lost it." She replaced the pen, then opened the screen door. "And now you'll have to call me before you wash it off." She sent him a mischievous wink before she disappeared into the house.
And he let her go.
God damn, what was wrong with him? Thirty seconds ago, Adam Nash had a woman in his arms, and now he was going home alone? Adam curled his hands into fists. His entire being ached with the need to follow her inside and into her bedroom. Hell, into any available room with a horizontal surface.
Even that was negotiable.
He staggered back to Henry's wife's car, and sat in the driver's seat. His cock tented his jeans. He reached to press it down, and caught sight of her phone number. Ignoring his arousal, he pulled his cell phone out and dialed.
"Hello?"
"Now you have my number too."
She chuckled, and his dick jerked. "I promise I won't take advantage."
"Call me anytime." He grinned into the phone. "Lunch tomorrow?"
"I'm afraid I can't." He heard the sounds of fabric rustling near the phone. Was she undressing? Damn, he covered his erection with his free hand, trying to press it into submission. "It's Dean's day off, and I can't leave Ella alone."
He leaned his head back against the head rest, and closed his eyes to concentrate. "Friday?"
"Friday's are pretty busy. We usually don't even get to sit down."
"Dinner tomorrow then." More rustling in his ear, and his stiff cock refused to behave.
"You don't have to feed me, you know."
He bit off the words forming on his tongue. He'd like to feed her all right. He saved that mental image for later. "I don't want you to forget to eat lunch again."
"You bought dinner tonight. It's my turn to treat. A movie maybe?"
He tried not to laugh out loud. She really had no idea. He almost burst with the need to tell her. Tell her everything. Maybe she'd rush out to his car and screw him in the driver's seat. Damn it, Adam. You're a fucking animal. For once in your life, act like a normal man. He took a deep breath. "A movie theate
r won't work. I want to be able to sit and stare at you."
She barked a short laugh. "Oh, well—"
"Jade?"
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed your company tonight."
"And I yours. Even if you are stingy with your personal information."
"I don't want to scare you away before I've had a chance to thoroughly impress you with my wit and wisdom."
"I'm already impressed," she whispered.
He gripped his cock through his jeans, and had to remind himself who he was, and what sort of trouble he could get into if he got caught masturbating in a borrowed car parked in a residential neighborhood. He could just see the headlines.
"I'll pick you up at six tomorrow then. Sleep well, Jade."
"Good night Adam."
What was it about the way she said his name that sent a jolt through his system? He entered her number into his contacts. Now this woman had his real name and his personal cell phone number, but she had yet to know what he did for a living.
Damn it, taking things slow would kill him. Here he had dinner with a woman, drank only two beers, then walked her to her door, and settled for a kiss. One kiss.
One hell of a kiss.
No wonder his body was confused. He never stopped at one kiss. Women he regularly kissed never stopped there. Not that it bothered him. Hell, what man wouldn't enjoy overzealous women throwing themselves at his feet? Meaningless sex can get a man through many a cold night on tour. There was a cliché about things were better if you waited…something like that. Maybe there was some truth to it. Maybe now he was ready for something different.
Adam took the long way back to Henry's house to retrieve his own car. He listened to the public radio station. Some shit about making soap, but he had to get his hormones under control before facing his manager, his manager's wife, and their three teenage daughters.
Chapter Four
"That good, huh?"
Dean had his feet propped up on the coffee table. He wore the same old U.C. Berkeley ash grey sweatpants every night. One of these days Jade would take scissors to those ugly things and put them out of their misery, but until the threadbare knees turned to outright holes, Dean wouldn't part with them. The sweatshirt hadn't made it through his four years of college, but these pants were still hanging on.
"What do you mean?"
He turned the volume down as the credits of the detective show scrolled up the television screen. "You're wearing your lacy nightie instead of flannel sleep pants. That means it was a good date." He scratched his bare chest and winked.
She rolled her eyes and smothered a smile. Dean knew her way too well. "It was good. Nothing fancy, just dinner at Buster's."
"A hell of a kiss, though."
Jade landed on the couch beside him, and picked up a green suede decorative pillow to fan herself, only half in jest. "Even that is an understatement."
"Not much of a view from the peephole, but I thought the front door would combust." Dean slipped his arm over her shoulders, and she leaned against him, loving the peace and security she found in his arms. "Why didn't you bring him inside? Still afraid to introduce me?"
"No, not at all. Maybe if he hadn't kissed me until my toes curled I would have invited him in, but I didn't want to do something rash."
"Must be nice to have only one head to do the thinking."
She elbowed him in the ribs. "Another reason I couldn't bring him in. I know you. You'd have your eyes trained on his crotch and you'd embarrass yourself."
"Impressive?"
"From what I could tell."
"I believe I might be jealous."
"After the male model that left our house in the wee hours this morning? One of these days I'm going to hide behind your curtains for a front row seat."
"You'd like that wouldn't you? Maybe if I find one that will stick around I'll work on convincing him to let us put on a show for you." Dean pulled her hair back to twist it at her nape with one hand, and flipped through the channels with the remote in the other.
"Maybe if you didn't send them packing at three a.m., they'd be willing to come back."
"He snored!" As if that was reason enough, and in Dean's mind, it probably was. He was terribly picky about his lovers.
Jade smiled. "One of these days, Dean Chambers, a man is going to come along and knock you on your ass. He'll probably snore too."
"I doubt it."
"And he'll like his steak well done," she continued, picking out all of Dean's pet peeves. "He'll chew on his fingernails. He'll watch old musicals on the classic movie channel…he'll wear tube socks with dress shoes. He's going to have a tiny dick…" Dean tried to cover her mouth, but she pulled his hand away and continued through a laugh. "He'll buy you a new pair of sweats, and you'll wear them!"
"Never!" Dean shoved her onto her back against the leather couch and pinned her down, tickling her until she couldn't speak. "Any man who loves me, will love my sweatpants. We're a package deal." Dean dodged her flailing arms and legs, and continued torturing her.
Only when she screamed "uncle" did he let her up, but she couldn't resist a final slug in his arm before they returned to their original position on the couch while Dean searched through the channels. There wasn't anything on.
"So tell me about him. Should I trust him with my best friend?"
"I think so." She tried not to sound uncertain, and damn if Dean didn't pick up on it.
"You think so? What does he do for a living?" Big brother was back.
"I'm not exactly sure…"
"Didn't you ask? Didn't he volunteer that information?"
"He was a little…um…hesitant to talk about his job. He said he works in the entertainment industry, and he has a professional name."
"Which is?" Dean pulled away from her, obviously serious about his concern now.
"Well, he didn't exactly—"
"Jade…"
"It's not bad! At least, I don't think it's bad." She chewed on her lip.
"But he's hiding something. That isn't good."
Leave it to Dean to get down to the brass tacks. Jade knew it, but she didn't want to analyze his mysteriousness. Now she scrambled to defend him to Dean. "Maybe he's a struggling actor, and he's too embarrassed to tell me that he hasn't had a part in years, or maybe he's a back-up singer in a garage band."
"Maybe. But maybe he just got out of prison for luring beautiful young women to his sleazy motel room with promises of a big break, when really he rapes and murders them, chopping them into—"
"Dean!" Another elbow to the ribs shut him up. "He said he's directed some, so maybe he wants to move from directing into acting?"
"Maybe he's a porn star."
Jade smiled. "I asked him about that. He says no."
"Married."
Her mouth dropped open. She hadn't thought of that. That would explain why he wouldn't give her his last name! Her mind whirled.
"Jesus, Jade. That freaks you out, but you laugh at the serial murderer scenario." Dean ruffled her hair.
"He gave me his cell phone number. He told me I could call him anytime. That doesn't sound like a married man, does it?"
"No it doesn't. Relax. I'm sure it is as you say, and he's just struggling to make a name for himself."
"He must be doing okay," Jade relaxed again. "He was able to pay for dinner, and he has a decent car. He was well dressed. Very well. And he smelled good, not like cheap cologne."
"Don't forget his impressive cock."
"I'll reserve judgment."
"Let me know."
"Get your own impressive cock, Dean."
Dean grinned, turning the television off, and using the same remote to start up the stereo. "I've got one, thanks. My problem is I need to have another impressive cock to make the damn thing work."
Jade opened a bottle of wine, and spent the next four hours filling Dean in on her two hours with Adam Herlihey.
* * * *
He stood her up.
Jade
flipped the sign on the door, and locked herself inside Earth Scents. She peered through the window, her heart racing with each silver sedan that drove by, and hating the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. All day she'd been thinking about him, watching the clock until closing time, getting more and more anxious as time went by, which made the letdown at his absence even more painful.
She turned off the lights in each of the floral coolers and picked up after some of today's more rambunctious customers. Ella had already gone through the place once before she left that afternoon while grilling Jade on her upcoming date with the mystery man.
"You need to snap some covert pictures with your cell phone or something." Ella had adjusted the ball cap atop her head. It was a staple in the college girl's wardrobe. If it weren't for the two long brunette braids behind her ears, Jade might have wondered if Ella were hiding a bald spot. "I'm starting to think you're making the guy up so I stop bugging you about getting laid."
Jade just glared, and popped the huge pink bubble that Ella blew with her gum. "I'm not sleeping with him."
"Yet. Geez Jade, don't string the guy on too long, he'll find another florist to play with."
Now, pacing the sales floor, Jade stopped to straighten another shelf full of vases to stall leaving. I would need to see him in order to string him along, Jade chewed on her bottom lip.
Maybe he was confused. She replayed their telephone conversation. Maybe she was confused. Dinner on Friday? Movie? Jade continued through the shop, closing down the cash register, and cranking off the helium tank.
Ten after six. She searched through her apron pockets for her phone. He said she could call anytime, right?
Where the hell was her phone? She turned off each set of lights on her way to the back room. Just as she dug her phone out of her purse, there was a sharp knock coming from the sales floor.
Since she was alone, she allowed herself to squeal like a little girl. Even her attempts at calming herself down on the way back out front made her laugh.