by Suzanne Ruby
“Felony convictions aside, it sounds like some serious pressure is being served inside the club. Or maybe some serious seduction. I’m more than a little worried for you,” Reese said.
Adam had been pretty forward, come to think of it. Yet, she had welcomed it. She needed it. Any and all seduction was consensual.
“I guess things like that happen in those types of places. Doesn’t mean it will happen to me, but I don’t want it happening to someone else. That’s why I’m going there. To stop anyone who’s taking advantage.”
“I know you’re smart. But those guys know what to say. They’re like unlicensed therapists. Even though you might be willing, physically, you need to protect yourself emotionally.”
“I’m a big girl. And, don’t judge me, but I also happen to have a date tonight. With a big, bad boy.”
“Well, okay,” Reese said. “But remember, I’m here for you if you need anything. I owe you a big favor for taking care of Baby anyway.”
No admonishment or trying to talk Kirby out of it. Not that Reese’s opinion would have affected her decision.
But Reese had reminded her of what she detested most. False flattery. Mercenary men seducing women out of their hard-earned money, as well as their panties. Taking every conceivable advantage.
How could she reconcile the fact that Adam was one of those men?
6
KIRBY PULLED INTO the driveway of the sprawling ranch-style home. It wasn’t at all what she expected of a man in his profession.
It was so much better.
And much more traditional, yet with contemporary elements, such as an expanse of windows separated by horizontal slats of dark wood and occasional gray stone treatments. Having lived in apartments or loft complexes most of her life, she only dreamed of such a place.
She double-checked the address again. Slowly. This was definitely it. Acres of land included.
Baby had been so quiet on the long drive into this heavily wooded, tucked-away edge of the city, she’d almost forgotten the puppy was in the car. Even though Lady had been invited, Kirby left her behind as an excuse to get back home in the morning and not be tempted to overstay her welcome.
The moment Kirby opened the car door, Baby barked excitedly.
“Maybe you’ll have a home like this someday.”
Maybe we both will.
As Baby continued to bark, Kirby practically purred. Every inch of her ached with the anticipation of Adam’s touch. She wetted her lips at the thought of being kissed again.
She managed to pull herself together despite her deliciously messy thoughts. If she were a quart of Häagen-Dazs, she’d be completely melted. And the night was just beginning.
With Baby in tow, Kirby proceeded up the wooden steps and onto a porch that wrapped around the home’s sharp angles. She rang the bell and then turned to survey the property, which was quiet and lovely beneath the warm blanket of sunset.
If anything, it was too quiet. The large fenced-in field on one side of the house was as motionless as a photograph. A dark, abandoned stable appeared as though it had seen better days. Happier days.
She recognized the soothing sound of a Woodstock wind chime in the distance and imagined waking up to such a sound every morning.
The unlocking and opening of the door caused Baby to launch into a full-body wag.
No wonder. The man who stood on the other side of the threshold was enough to stir every inch of Kirby’s being.
She took a top-to-bottom inventory of the masculine masterpiece in front of her. Glorious bed-head, muscles straining against a black T-shirt, one sculpted hand gripping a white flour-sack dishcloth while the other held open the door, the promise of his well-endowed manhood soon straining against black dress slacks, Baby licking his bare feet.
Bare feet?
Baby’s smooth little tongue must have tickled because he laughed and attempted to sidestep the amorous fur ball.
“I knew I forgot something. Please, come in,” he said, careful not to step on the puppy, who was obviously as taken with him as Kirby was, if not more so.
Adam tossed the dishcloth over his shoulder, scooped up Baby and took Kirby’s hand, shutting the door with a barefoot back kick.
He led them through a foyer, into a great room and open kitchen.
She breathed in his clean scent of vanilla and pine as the large, wood-burning fireplace crackled in harmony with some contemporary jazz coming from the corner of the room.
The front of the house had promised spectacular views, and the rest of the home backed up that promise. Windows were everywhere, including on three sides of the kitchen, which looked out to tall trees and thick brush.
Adam set down Baby, patted the seat of a bar stool for Kirby and proceeded to pull two wineglasses from a cupboard and place them on the island in front of her. Expensive wineglasses, at that, even though she would gladly sip boxed wine from a plastic cup with this particular man.
“Red, white, or rosé?” he asked.
Soft, medium, or hard? Always so willing to please her.
She gulped back the thoughts of what else he might ask, if they moved this from the kitchen to the bedroom. She felt perfectly comfortable telling him how to please her in the oral hygiene or wine department. But in bed? That would be a different story.
“I’m partial to red, but I suppose it depends on what we’re having for dinner,” she said.
What, exactly, were they having for dinner?
“I’m preparing surf and turf, so the wine can go any which way. Don’t let the cabernet glasses influence your decision. They’re all I have. Or I can open a bottle of each. No rules tonight.”
“How do you feel about red?” she asked. “This shouldn’t be a unilateral decision.”
“I prefer red, too.”
He walked over to a Sub-Zero and scanned his inventory, which looked quite impressive from her vantage point.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked as he effortlessly uncorked a bottle of Caymus Reserve.
Although she wasn’t a connoisseur, she knew the bottle he selected wasn’t the kind one would find in the boxed-wine aisle.
He poured them both a glass and handed one to her, then lifted his.
“A toast. To our first official date,” he said.
She silently raised her glass.
Everything seemed perfect at the moment.
Too perfect.
She summoned her inner reporter, and admonished her heart to take a back seat. Or, at the very least, ride shotgun. Questions needed to be asked, but the timing had to be right.
Meanwhile, Baby ran amok, getting into who knew what.
“Sorry. She’s obviously excited to be here,” Kirby said.
He set his glass down and turned his attention to something behind him. “I’m excited she’s here, too. But I’m more excited over you.”
The wine proceeded to warm her, along with his deep voice and the sweet words that went with it.
After grabbing a tray, he walked around the counter.
“Join me outside while I add the fish to the grill. The steak should be ready soon.”
She set down her wineglass and eased off the bar stool as he disappeared through some sliding glass doors at the far end of the great room.
Baby followed him instead of waiting for her.
When Kirby reached for her glass again, it nearly toppled. And right on top of some paperwork he’d left on the counter.
Not a good place for anything white. Not with her around. Normally she had two left feet, but when she was nervous she had two left hands, as well. Although she wouldn’t dream of taking the liberty of moving the paperwork, she couldn’t help but notice it looked like some sort of legal document. A rather thick one.
<
br /> “Adam Drake versus Becker Farms.” A lawsuit of some kind.
Since he was listed first, he would be the plaintiff rather than the defendant. That was somewhat comforting. Not to mention, she finally had his last name.
The desire to turn the pages made her fingers itch, but she’d taken long enough. Besides, it didn’t seem to involve The Deep and, therefore, wouldn’t affect her story. Yet, it could have a lot to do with the type of man he was.
* * *
WHAT WAS TAKING her so long?
Adam alternately monitored the sliding glass door, the swordfish and the steak both sizzling on the grill and rapidly reaching perfection. This was one dinner he did not intend to burn.
He had a long history of burning dinners, and Liv had never let him forget it. She did have plenty of room to talk, being such an excellent cook herself. But Adam would rather eat corn chips and bean dip with Kirby than endure such scrutiny from a woman again.
Then it struck him how he’d set himself up for such a scenario by offering to cook dinner.
What was that saying about doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?
Right. Insanity.
Kirby walked through the patio doors, rescuing him from his little trip down not-so-wonderful-memory lane.
Yeah, he definitely was a big fan of red. She looked incredible in her long, cherry-red figure-hugging dress with slits up both sides, offering quick and easy access to the heavens.
“Sorry for making you wait. I took off mine so we’d be on equal footing.” She pointed downward.
Even her bare feet were sexy. She’d taken off her shoes, and he didn’t even have to seduce her out of them.
“That looks and smells delicious,” she said.
“So do you,” he countered.
Sweet and clean. What a contrast to his thoughts, which were more along the lines of naughty and messy.
“What kind of fish are we having?” she asked.
“Texas swordfish. Even better than ones caught off the Keys, in my opinion. But Florida has the best beaches, hands down.”
Might as well introduce the topic. At some point, he would have to tell her. At least, he hoped there would be a reason to do so. But whether or not the job offer came through, he’d like to see her again.
“I’m not a big fan. I burn, even with maximum SPF,” she said.
Well, damn.
“Too bad, I bet those beaches would love you. I can picture you there. Maybe beneath one of those big umbrellas.”
“Oh, really? Am I wearing a string bikini, by chance?”
He reached up and touched one of her earrings.
“No. Nothing except these. I see you found the mate,” he said.
“I sure did. I suppose that means I’ll have a little extra luck tonight.”
“Trust me. You don’t need the earrings. Not with me.”
She lowered her head.
This was a shy one, despite his success in getting her body underneath his at the club. Shy, but with no aversion to PDA. An intoxicating contradiction.
Kirby had also been shy about saying what had happened with her ex-husband. But certain discussions were off-limits. Neither Liv nor Kirby’s exes would be invited into his bedroom. Tonight, it was all about the two of them.
Make that the three of them.
“What’s the puppy’s name?” he asked as he turned the steak, which was almost ready.
Almost ready to burn if he didn’t focus on the meal rather than those slits up the side of her dress.
“Baby,” she said.
He couldn’t help but smile. The song playing at the club? His slip in calling her baby? Could the name have anything to do with either, or was this another one of those coincidences that kept happening between them?
“Nice name. And since I know yours now, I won’t call you baby anymore. I promise.”
“Wise decision, especially with this one around,” Kirby said, pointing to the puppy. “She already seems to know her name. If you say it, she might jump between us. I’m quite sure she’s already in love with you.”
And I’m already in love with her, Adam wanted to say. If only he were in a better position career-wise, he’d adopt Baby on the spot.
“Do your coworkers give their clients pet names in the throes of passion, too?” she asked.
There it was. The club. The token uninvited guest.
“Not to my knowledge.”
Not entirely true. But he wasn’t about to repeat some of the terms that had been bounced around.
Kirby must have been satisfied with that answer. As she walked away to examine the rest of his outdoor kitchen and patio, a cool breeze filled the space where she had stood. He found himself willing her back to his side.
He glanced over his shoulder.
She sipped from her wineglass and ran her hand along the back cushion of the all-weather sectional.
He couldn’t wait a minute longer to take a tall sip of her. Even if it had to be a quick one.
With dinner under tentative control, he set down the spatula, walked over, eased the wineglass from her hand and set it on a table. He pressed into her, deep into that red dress, which would slip over her head quite easily. He then cupped her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers.
She opened herself to him, welcoming his tongue, which explored her even further. Her mouth felt as soft as red velvet cake, and tasted just as sweet. His length hardened as she reciprocated, teasing his tongue with hers. He pressed farther into her softness until he hit the spot that made her moan.
He could have devoured her right there, and it looked as if she would be willingly devoured. But Baby started barking.
The fish started burning.
The steak started flaming.
And all of his efforts to make a good impression went up in smoke.
* * *
“DAMN IT,” ADAM SAID.
Kirby inwardly giggled. It was amazing he could move as fast as he did while sporting such a hard-on.
Otherwise, he seemed utterly deflated.
She steadied the tray while he halfheartedly transferred the charred remains of what would have been their dinner.
“I’m sorry, Kirby. I should have warned you this would happen. This always happens.” He turned off the propane, put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
Time for ego-damage control, and she wouldn’t even have to lie.
“Actually, I prefer my steak well done and my fish blackened.” In fact, she always saved the burned edges for last.
She shifted the tray to one hand, then took his hand and led him back through the sliding glass door and closed it behind them, once Baby was safe inside.
After placing the feast on the counter, she opened drawer after drawer until she found the utensils. Plenty of spoons but no knives. Only one fork. Definitely workable.
She retrieved the fork, sliced into the charred fish and took a bite.
“Hot,” she finally said as she fanned her mouth. “But soooooo good.”
He eased the fork from her hand, grabbed a steak knife from a cutlery block nearby, sawed off a few bite-sized pieces of filet and popped a piece into his mouth.
“Not bad,” he said.
She reclaimed the fork, carved off another piece of swordfish and held it up to his lips.
Adam opened his gorgeous mouth and allowed her to feed him. He slowly licked his lips and stared directly at her as if he were contemplating all the various ways to consume her. He continued their seductive dance by picking up a piece of the filet and holding it near her mouth.
As she received his offering, his fingers touched her lips, which fed a scorching flame straight to her lower belly as she imagined tasting him
instead.
My turn. She picked up another piece of steak and fed it to him in the same way. Only, he slipped two of her fingers into his mouth along with the bite, and savored them before pulling away. Without pause, he leaned in and kissed her as if he were starving.
He moved forward, she moved back. Their lips never separated as he navigated them down a dark hallway, all the way to a bedroom. The reality of what was happening began to sink in as he lifted her dress so easily over her head.
“Do you mind if we turn down the lights?” she asked.
He scanned her almost-naked form and his gaze landed back on her face, focusing on her lips.
“Actually, I do. But, if it will make you more comfortable, I’ll turn them down. This time.”
After dimming the lights somewhat, he pulled off his T-shirt as he walked back toward her. The beauty of his chiseled pecs and abs set off an intoxicating pulse that traveled south from her heart to her core and lingered there.
He reached around and struggled with the hook on her bra as she tugged at the zipper on his pants. Their mutual struggle paid off. The bra slipped easily from her shoulders, with a little help from him. With a little help from her, his slacks soon pooled around his feet.
In a single, smooth motion, he removed his briefs, as well.
Her breath lodged in her throat. She’d already figured out he was well-endowed, but the beauty and strength of his erection caused her own sex to seize with anticipation.
They eased onto the bed, where he proceeded to peel down her panties, studying every inch of her along the way. He kissed his way back up, starting with her feet on up to her thighs, where he proceeded to part them.
Definitely not ready for that. She pressed her thighs back together and sat up.
“Please. I really want to,” he said.
“No. Not yet.”
She scooted farther back, and he eased on top, their bodies fitting together so effortlessly. So perfectly. He kissed her deeply, exploring her lips and mouth as she imagined him doing the exact same thing to her sex. She felt herself exploding, imploding at the thought of him wanting to do that to her. Begging.
Please...