Conquering Love

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Conquering Love Page 21

by Willow Summers


  She laughed. “The couch will. I wouldn’t put more than a couple plates and a glass on that side table, though.” She crossed to him and sat down slowly, curling up into his side. “You’re not disgusted?”

  “A little, yeah. You let me look ridiculous with my furniture this whole time. Not cool.”

  “I never really noticed your furniture, sorry,” she said. He swung his arm around her. “Mike has both taste and money, so I paid attention to the kind of stuff he buys. Then…” she shrugged one of her shoulders. “I embellished a little because it’s all so different. I had to make it fit together somehow. Like a fashion show.”

  “Like a…” He rolled his eyes. “You could be an interior designer. This looks really expensive. I honestly thought you had stolen it.”

  “How was I supposed to get it out of the store? On my back?”

  “You knew someone? I don’t know.” He kicked his foot out. “I could use something to put my feet on.”

  “Then there would be no room to walk through the room.”

  “So why were you so embarrassed?” he asked, bending down to suck in her earlobe. She moaned softly. “You’ve seen what my place looks like.”

  “I just…I’m poor, you know? It’s embarrassing.”

  He kissed down her neck. “I come from nothing, too.”

  “I’ve been hiding this kind of stuff all my life. I used to re-do furniture to try and hide how poor we were, but my mother always said it was still crap. It was still a mess. Old habits die hard, you know? I just…I just see all the flaws.”

  “Okay, but what if we bought well made stuff on clearance that you then dressed up?”

  “What would be the point of dressing it up if you buy it new?”

  Greg sucked on the skin of her warm neck. His hand fell over her firm breast, and then pinched her taut nipple. “Because this furniture looks like a rich person bought it, and the stuff I can afford looks like a rancher bought it. When Mike sees all this, he’s going to be pissed, mark my words. He always complains how much the good looking stuff costs.”

  “Middle of the road stuff in a matching set is too standard. All you can do is paint. You have to buy various pieces and give them a through-thread. Something to tie them all together.”

  “Even better.” Greg kissed her lips. “So that was the big to-do? You were ashamed of your upbringing. Pfft!” He smiled and kissed her again. “We have that in common. It’s hard standing next to Mike, because I have so much less than he does. But you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s just money. I have plenty to live, and with the promotion, I have plenty to support a wife and a couple of kids. That’s all I need. You’re all I need, Christie.”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “Thank you. For being a little too good to be true.”

  “You’re new to dating, so I’m going to be really honest with you. Guys are always too good to be true in the beginning. It’s when you move out of this death trap of a house, and into my place, that you’ll learn all the horrible realities of living with me. I’d give you some examples, but it would ruin the surprise.”

  “I’ll be moving in with you, will I?” She ran a hand down his chest. “A little forward, hmm?”

  “I didn’t have time to make a sex tape. I was too busy watching yours.” His lips glided across hers. Electricity sparked between them, tightening his stomach. “Do we have any other hurdles to jump, or can I give you a massage with my lips?”

  Chapter 18

  Christie groaned, feeling his pressure to lean back, but resisting. Shaky and still not comfortable, she pushed herself upright. She’d been working for two hours on the menu for tonight, trying to shut out the fear, and if she didn’t put something on the table immediately, everything she’d created would burn to a crisp.

  “Take a seat at the table, but avoid the chair with the yellow cushion.” Christie moved into the kitchen and stepped out of view before leaning against the wall. Her heart thudded in her chest, having someone in the house with her was playing hell with her nerves.

  “What’s on the menu?” he asked. A chair squeaked ominously.

  Christie clenched her eyes shut, trying to drown out her mother’s insistence that she was trash, she’d only ever be trash, and now the most important man in the world was seeing the proof of it.

  “Lots of stuff. Hope you’re hungry.” She shook out her arms and reminded herself that he did, indeed, have thrift shop furniture in his house. He didn’t care about that, and he’d said he liked what she’d done. She knew him well enough to be confident that he was being genuine.

  Putting on her game face, she crossed to the stove and checked the various items.

  “I’m listening for a microwave,” he taunted.

  “Kind of high expectations. Is that really why you weren’t there for the staff dinner?” She placed the crab cakes and garnish on a bright yellow plate, trying not to feel the pang in her chest from the three chips in the porcelain.

  “I’m really sorry about that, baby. I had meant to get there in time.”

  She glanced behind her at his tone, but didn’t have time to properly notice his sag over her table. Instead, she saw the empty spot in front of him.

  Rolling her eyes, she quickly mixed together his favorite whisky drink, and delivered that and two small plates to the table. She delicately planted a kiss on his head, careful not to put much more weight on his chair, before patting his back. “Don’t ruin my night with your issues.”

  He huffed out a laugh, and then steadied himself when the chair gave a loud squeak.

  Back in the kitchen, she finished plating the crab cakes, and then dressing two salads. None of the plates matched. She’d gotten them all at garage sales and had to pick out the best of the bunch. It hadn’t been an issue before.

  She handed him a bottle of wine. “Open that, please.” Then she left the two filets mignon to rest.

  “Okay,” she said, lowering herself slowly into the chair opposite him. She didn’t want to spook it into collapsing. “The first dish is a Maryland crab cake with a green onion sauce, and of course a Caesar salad, your favorite. I couldn’t bring myself to put anchovies in it though. Get over it.”

  “I would’ve preferred you taking my order with awkward eyes and a green pad of paper you never use, but okay. I guess I’ll just settle for food that tastes good.” He cut off a bite of crab cake and unceremoniously popped it into his mouth. He gave a slight nod, his normal reaction to eating anything when hungry, and then he froze. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his plate. His jaw started moving again, slowly. “Holy shit, woman.”

  He cut off another bite and delicately placed it in his mouth, now looking at the ceiling. “Mmm.” His jaw started moving at normal speed. “This is delicious!”

  Christie couldn’t help her delighted smile. “Thanks. I found a recipe for crab cakes but did the sauce myself. I was worried about trying crab cakes for the first time without a little direction.”

  “I’ve used recipes. They didn’t turn out like this.” He scraped his plate clean and looked over at hers. “Is it too early to ask if you are going to eat that?”

  She pointed at his salad.

  He stabbed it with his fork as she said, “I’m not broke, you know.”

  “Mmm. This is the best Caesar salad I’ve ever had!”

  “Let’s not get crazy. It’s just a Caesar salad.”

  “But the dressing. Man, this is good, Christie.”

  “I just don’t bother spending money on furniture and a car and stuff because I can do without. I’m saving it all for school.”

  He looked at her seriously while still chewing. “What do you want to study?”

  “This.” She gestured at their food with her fork. “I don’t care much for academics, but I love cooking. And the other day I had a blast serving all the staff. A lot of people get stressed serving that many, but I loved it. I think this might be my calling.”

  “One of them, anyway. I still think your in
terior design is incredible. And then there’s the comedy. That would be us laughing at you, though, not with you. A real confidence crusher for you, but think of the proceeds.”

  Christie finished her crab cake, knowing that there was something missing but not sure what she should’ve added to heighten the flavor. She’d have to experiment. “Anyway. Living like this has a purpose.”

  “Christie…” Greg put his fork on his empty plate. “I’m not judging you. I’m the last person who would do that. I’m proud. You’re trying to better yourself. You’ve figured out your dream, and you’re going for it. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Although, you could easily work at any restaurant in town cooking like this.”

  She moved to put her finished crab cake plate onto her not quiet finished salad plate.

  “I’ll eat that!” Greg lurched forward to snag it. A screech and then a crack filled the room. His body dropped, crashing against the table. It shook wildly while he tipped and then rolled off, following his busted chair to the ground. His limbs splashed out.

  “Are you okay?” Christie knelt beside him and checked him for blood. “I am so sorry!”

  “Did you boobytrap this place?” Greg rolled to the side and climbed to his feet. He checked his side.

  “I’m so sorry. Maybe we should wrap the rest up and take it—”

  “Relax,” he said with a disarming smile. “Haven’t you ever wondered why I only have four chairs for such a big table?”

  A weight pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe.

  He must’ve noticed that she wasn’t planning on answering. “Because two broke. Mike got one and I took down the other. I’m a big guy. It’s fine. Now we have fire wood.”

  “I just…” Christie looked back at the table. “I hate living like this. In this crappy place, and this cheap stuff—I’m just tired to being broke, you know? And no, I’m not good enough to work at any restaurant in town. I’ve tried. They all want a piece of paper saying I can cook. They want proof. Even for a line cook.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She turned to grab the plates. “It’s fine. It’s the dream I’ve chosen, and it’ll take effort. I’m not complaining, it’s just embarrassing. I don’t want people over and see me living like this. In the winter it’s barely habitable with the freezing air coming through here.” She threw up her hands. “I know you’re not judging, and I know you have experience, but that doesn’t prevent me from feeling like I’m sprinting as fast and hard as I can and getting nowhere.”

  She blew out a deep breath and wiped her face. Having expected him to wrap her up in his arms like he usually did when she broke down, she turned to see if he’d fallen unconscious or something.

  He was staring at her with a bored expression. “You done? Because I just caught sight of that meat and I’m still hungry.”

  “Did you hear anything I said?”

  “Yeah. You chose a hard path with a huge reward, it’s not coming easy, like it seldom does, and you’re fed up.” He kicked the chair out of the way before pulling another over. He wiggled it, and then switched it out for the one she’d been sitting in. “But you’re stubborn, you’re not a quitter, and I’ll support you every step of the way. So get over it. And quickly. That steak is staring at me.”

  She melted into a smile. “You’re such a jackass.”

  “Your favorite word. Hurry up!”

  Walking on air, she plated the main dish and served it to him with red wine. She switched her chair for the one he hadn’t tried and just threw hers in the corner. It was about to fall apart, anyway. She’d only had it in the room to make the set look complete.

  “Just a couple of people trying to get by,” she said, putting his plate in front of him.

  “Exactly. Chasing our dreams.”

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence, if you didn’t count the constant groans, moans and exclamations about how good the steak and lava cake desert was from Greg. He didn’t bother with small talk and wasn’t worried about it in the least. Once done, he went to lean back, and then stopped himself.

  “You can lean back in that one.” She took the dishes to the sink.

  A moment later she heard his chair whine. His strong arms wrapped around her. “Have we crashed through all the barriers? Can we just be happy now?”

  Her body lit on fire. “You know there is one more.”

  “I don’t consider that a barrier.”

  “Well hello Mister Confidence.” She rinsed the dishes and put them to the side as her body coiled. “I’ll wash these later.”

  “I can help.”

  “I have other things in mind for your time. Stay here.”

  His lips touched her neck as his hands ran up her sides. They curved in and felt over her breasts, cupping. “But I like being near you.” He grabbed two fistfuls of her shirt. After pulling, releasing the bottom from the being tucked into her jeans, he slid his hands up her bare skin.

  “I had a plan,” she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against his shoulder.

  “Plans are good.” His course palms rubbed against her sensitive nipples. “So are impulses.” One hand pinched her nipple gently while the other headed south again. His tongue trailed against her skin before his hot mouth lightly sucked.

  The button on her jeans popped open. The zipper made a zzzz sound as it lowered. His hand slid beneath the line of her panties and down between her thighs.

  “Impulse is okay, I suppose,” she said, and then gasped as his fingers rubbed her clit. He pushed deeper, making way in her tight jeans. His fingers slid over her throbbing wetness.

  “Impulse is definitely okay.” She widened her legs so he could enter her with two fingers. “Fast and hard, baby,” she said with a rush of heat. She’d heard it on a movie once. It had driven the guy crazy.

  Greg was not immune.

  “Mmm,” he moaned, turning her so he could capture her lips. His tongue probed her mouth, expert and experienced. His fingers entered her, hitting off places that sent spirals of gloriousness through her body. The heel of his hand rubbed her clit, his touch all-consuming.

  She ran her palms along his muscled arms and then over his broad shoulders. His touch quickened, in and out as his tongue mimicked the action. Waves of heat rolled through her as her core tightened, pulling at her. Everything wound up with the sensations, her focus on that hand pumping into her. On his fingers tweaking her nipple.

  “Mmm, Greg.” Her arms tightened around his neck as her muscles tensed, her core winding tighter and tighter. Her kiss got more passionate as the sensations amplified, battering her with pleasure now. “Yes. Oh yes. Oh!”

  An orgasm crashed over her, making her shake against him. Then vibrate in the after math. Exhaling, she slumped. “That was way better than doing the dishes.”

  “Mhm.” His kiss turned slow and sensual. “Now, hurry up.”

  Grinning like an idiot but suddenly relaxed, she poured herself into her room and thought about lying on the bed.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” he called to her.

  “Through here.”

  He paused, then said, “Can I pass through?”

  “None. Shall. Pass!” She rummaged through her tiny closet for her bright pink heels. She didn’t have any lacy or frilly nighties, so she’d have to settle for her thong, heels, thigh high tights and nakedness.

  All she probably needed was the last one.

  “Don’t make me whip out my sword this early,” he called into her.

  “Close your eyes, then.”

  Hands straight out in front of him, he wandered in like Frankenstein. His foot hit the dresser, making him grab it and stumble around. “At least that piece of furniture is sturdy.”

  “Go right.”

  “This is the weirdest layout in the history of houses. You’re moving out of here after the summer. Give your notice. This place will drive me crazy.” He waved his hands, then hit the bed post.

  “This is our second date. There is n
o way I am moving in with you.”

  “I’ll get my way.”

  “You haven’t yet.”

  He grunted as he bumped into the doorframe.

  She hurried up and stripped out of her clothes. “Do not leave the toilet seat up,” she yelled.

  Her nylons stretched over her skin and stopped mid-way. A garter would make more sense to hold them up, but she didn’t own one. Hindsight. After stepping into her heels, she pulled out her hair thing and mused her hair. The sound of the toilet flushing had her running to the bed and climbing onto it. The chill of the air made her nipples constrict and goosebumps stand out on her skin. She braced her teeth to keep them from chattering while waiting for him to come out.

  A moment later, eyes closed and arms waving in front of him again, he hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom. “How we doing?” he asked.

  “Ready,” she said in a husky voice, trembling a little with nervousness and the chill.

  He opened his eyes and saw her. His gaze reached her breasts, and then traveled lower, pausing between her thighs. He moved to the bed purposely before running his hand up her leg. His fingers dipped in before brushing her panty-covered sex. His eyes scanned up her body again before his brow creased.

  “Let’s get under the covers,” he said softly, bending and scooping her up. She kissed him before he set her down and pulled back the quilt. “It doesn’t feel like there is any insulation in this room.”

  “I don’t think there is. But the quilt is warm.”

  “You need to report this, Christie. It must be freezing in the winter.”

  “I have a space heater, so it’s not so bad.”

  A troubled look came over his face as he settled her into the sheets and covered her up. Next he stripped off his shirt and then his jeans, displaying that beautifully cut and defined masterpiece.

  “Remember the socks,” she said.

  He smirked and took off his socks before moving to climb in.

  “And the skivvies.” She pointedly looked at his pair of brown boxer briefs.

 

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