by Amy Andrews
‘You want to use my body for your sexual pleasure, then I demand to be wooed first,’ Cade clarified, a smile playing on his lips at his genius plan.
Callie stumbled. ‘Wooed?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘What do you mean, wooed? Can you…elaborate?’
Cade reached his door and pulled up in front of it. She was frowning up at him and she looked so damn cute he nearly kissed her right then and there. ‘I propose we go on…a dozen dates,’ he said. ‘No kissing. No sex.’
He pressed a finger to her mouth when she went to protest. They were soft and full and a flash of how they’d looked in the shadows last night as she’d exposed herself to him hit him right in the gut. He let his hand drop to his side.
‘As I said last night—I’m not going to lay a finger on you. Then, after the twelfth date, and only then will I have sex with you.’
Callie’s mouth was still tingling from the press of his finger. ‘But…why?’
Cade laughed at her confusion. ‘Because it could be fun? And maybe we both learn something about ourselves?’ She still looked nonplussed. ‘It’s my best offer.’
Callie glared at Cade. Damn him for making this so complicated. It was only sex, for crying out loud. Something they’d both already proved they were exceptionally good at.
Especially together.
If she hadn’t wanted him so much she could barely see straight, she’d have told him to go and do something quite anatomically impossible with himself. Instead, she did a quick calculation in her head. If she played hardball she could probably have him in four dates—five at the outside.
And if she tried to get through them as quickly as possible…
Callie folded her arms. ‘Five,’ she said.
Cade shook his head. ‘Ten.’
‘Seven,’ she countered.
‘Nine.’
She smiled. ‘Eight.’
Cade had figured she’d try to beat him down and eight was a number he could live with. Hopefully after eight dates she might change her mind about the institution. Hook-ups and one-night stands weren’t exactly a safe way to live your life. That’s what dating was for—to weed out the crazies.
Not that it was foolproof!
After eight dates he’d probably be ready to burst anyway. He was pretty sure she was going to play it dirty and there was only so much provocation a healthy male could stand.
Her dress today was a good case in point.
Cade held out his hand. ‘You’ve got a deal.’
Callie shook. ‘Tonight?’ Might as well get this farce started.
He nodded as he released her hand. ‘Bowling. I’ll pick you up at seven.’
‘Bowling it is,’ she murmured, then turned to leave.
He watched as she pivoted. The pockets on her ass pulled nicely and the funky cork heels of her pumps did incredible things for her calves. ‘Nice of you to wear that dress, by the way,’ he called to her retreating back.
Callie grinned to herself. ‘I thought you might like it,’ she threw over her shoulder, without looking around.
Cade sighed; had she just exaggerated the swing of her hips?
She was so going to play dirty.
A fact that was confirmed when he knocked on her door at seven and she came out in skin-tight jeans, a sleeveless shirt that zipped up the front, pulling tight across her breasts, and shiny burgundy gloss on her mouth.
‘This okay?’ she asked innocently.
Cade ran his gaze over the ensemble as a cloud of frangipani enveloped him. ‘I approve of your ballet flats,’ he said.
‘Oh, you don’t like the top.’ She pouted. ‘I bought it at a little boutique this afternoon especially for our first date. It’s daring, don’t you think?’
Cade looked down at the article of clothing in question. It was daring, all right. He stared at the zipper that had been pulled to mid-cleavage. There was a lot he couldn’t see. But what he could see wasn’t going to be good for his bowling average. He picked up the big round tab that taunted him and slowly drew the teeth up a couple of centimetres.
‘Now it’s sensible.’
Callie grinned. ‘Spoilsport.’
He grinned back. ‘Get used to it.’
Despite the rather annoying sceptre of the zipper and its large tab that swung enticingly every time she moved or jiggled—which was a lot—bowling was fun. They played two games and Callie gave him a run for his money, which was exactly what he expected. Callie had never struck him as a girly girl—regardless of what was beneath that zip or the tantalising glimpses of her back and abdomen as she either bent to bowl or leapt up in excitement when she scored a strike.
Which she did just a little too much for his sanity.
She seemed much more at home on a bowling lane than in the nail salon next door, which she’d tsked about as they’d passed, talking about a study she’d read on the toxicity of the chemicals they used in such places.
He’d glanced at her nails—they were short, neat and unadorned. Completely unfussy. Not like they’d spent any time in a beauty salon.
Long enough to leave marks on his back for days, though.
Afterwards they sat at the cheap and cheerful café attached to the alley and ate ice cream from cones and debated their favourite movies. It was no surprise that Callie liked action movies. For a woman who oozed sexuality from every pore she spent a lot of time being one of the guys.
Except when she was eating ice cream like it was a spectator sport. The way she savoured each mouthful. Licked the excess off her mouth. Crunched into the cone…
Cade wouldn’t have thought watching a woman eat ice cream could be so damn sexy. But he had a very embarrassing hard-on and an image in his head of unzipping her shirt and upending the contents of the cone all over her breasts.
Callie’s tongue swiped at the excess ice cream on her mouth as she waited for Cade to finish the sentence he’d started, but he was now frowning instead. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Must you eat it like that?’
Callie blinked, unaware she’d been eating it like that. However the hell that was. But she realised pretty quickly as she raised the cone to her mouth and his gaze dropped to where lips met food. And she took a long, slow, deliberate swipe.
The double scoop was chocolate and raspberry ripple and she knew her lips would be coated with it after her porn-queen lick. So, as she swallowed, she darted her tongue out to gather all the sticky excess into her mouth.
‘Callie.’
His voice sounded strained and Callie liked that she’d caused him some consternation. ‘What?’ she asked innocently, going in for another lick.
Cade was barely holding on to his libido. ‘We have serviettes for that,’ he said, sliding one her way.
Callie was reminded of the night she’d wiped the corner of his mouth with a good-quality linen napkin and how very much she’d wanted to use her tongue instead. Cade looked like he wouldn’t mind using his, either.
Maybe this would only take one date.
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ she asked.
Cade shook his head as he resumed eating. ‘You are incorrigible.’
Callie noticed he had a little excess ice cream problem going on himself. ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Here, I’ll show you how much fun it can be.’ And she leaned across the short distance between them and put her lips to the corner of his mouth.
Cade withdrew slightly before she got the chance to dart her tongue out. She smelled sweet and tart like chocolate and raspberries and he wondered how sticky she’d be if he stole a taste.
‘No kissing,’ he murmured huskily, bringing his impulses into check.
Callie shut her eyes at the warmth of his breath on her mouth and the sweet rush that zipped through her system.
‘Not kissing,’ she murmured, moving in closer again. ‘Just getting…’ she inched closer ‘…this bit…’ his stubble grazed her top lip as she angled her head for better access ‘here…’
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br /> And she darted her tongue out, tentatively at first to the corner of his mouth, where a pocket of sweet caramel taunted her, dipping it in and out quickly, primed for him to pull back. Growing bolder when he didn’t, she flattened her tongue into the angle and swiped further afield, along the closed seam of his lips a little and above his mouth where prickly, sticky heaven awaited.
She sighed as it melted against her tongue like fairy floss. Wisely she withdrew, refusing to listen to the dictates of her body and explore further. They had probably four dates to get through before he cracked and it would be foolish to put him on high alert on date number one.
‘See,’ she murmured, pulling away slowly, loving that his eyes had closed and when they fluttered open the whisky depths looked all smoky. ‘I can follow the rules.’
It took Cade a moment to come back from the deceptively simple move laced with sex and sin. She’d barely touched him but somehow left him wanting more.
His hard-on wanted more. A lot more.
He grunted. ‘I think that’s what’s called bending the rules.’
‘You’re right.’ She faked a contrite expression. ‘I’ve been naughty. I think I should be punished.’
Cade shook his head. ‘Just eat your damn cone.’
On the way home in the car Cade was determined to keep things on track. Nothing like talking about work to achieve that. ‘I’m scheduling the surgery for next Wednesday,’ he announced.
Callie glanced at him. ‘Trudy’s?’
He nodded. ‘I spent the best part of today getting everyone lined up.’
Callie felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect. Being in the operating theatre with Cade while they performed surgery that wouldn’t have even been conceivable not that long ago ticked all her boxes. ‘They’ll be pleased,’ she said. ‘I think they’re keen to get going now they’ve committed to it.’
Cade nodded. ‘Most people are. The sooner it can be done the better the outcome.’
They talked more about the procedure, which took them all the way up the lift and to her front door. She sensed him growing tenser the closer they drew to her apartment. ‘Don’t worry,’ she teased as she slid her key into the lock. ‘I’m not going to flash you again tonight. I’ll behave.’
Cade shot her a stiff smile as his gaze dropped to her zip. Part of him had been kind of hoping that she would. He’d been thinking about how her breasts might be revealed as the teeth slowly opened—kind of like peeling a banana, to reveal the ripe, tasty fruit beneath.
Callie noted his interest. It grabbed at her abdominal muscles and sent heat blooming through her pelvis. ‘Unless,’ she said, stepping into the darkened alcove of her apartment away from prying eyes, ‘you’d rather I did?’
Cade didn’t say anything as his shoulder fell against the doorframe—he wasn’t capable. He was supposed to be the controlled one here but he hadn’t been able to get the ice-cream fantasy out of his head and a large part of him—that part occupying his underwear, anyway—really wanted to watch the unpeeling of her breasts.
Callie’s heart was beating fifteen to the dozen as Cade’s gaze strayed only momentarily to her face before drifting again to her zipper. For a moment she wasn’t sure but the heat in her belly, the simmer in her blood drove her and slowly, very slowly, she raised her hand to the round metallic tab of her zip.
She pulled it down slightly. Just a tooth or two, not sure if this was what he wanted. Then his nostrils flared and she knew. Knew in the way a woman who was in touch with her sexuality did know. So she kept going, pulling the circular tab all the way to the bottom, feeling the cool air hit her heated cleavage and the skin of her belly as the two sides of her shirt gaped slightly.
It didn’t glide open like yesterday to reveal all and she didn’t aid it, either, as she had done yesterday. She just looked at him and waited, conscious that his gaze was feasting on her as intensely as his mouth had done that night on the beach. And in his shower. And on his bed.
‘Is this what you want?’ she asked, her voice sounding odd to her ears, like she’d eaten a cone full of gravel.
Cade was drawn to the delicious swell of her breast as the garish light from the hallway behind him fell across its plump curves in softer relief. The edge of a lacy red-and-black bra sitting halfway across her breasts could just be made out while a marvellous design technique pushed the inner curves of the two lush globes up and together.
A buzz filled his head and Cade swallowed against it. He wanted her to shrug the edges of her blouse farther apart. Hell, he wanted to bridge the safety zone between them and separate the two sides himself. But he reached for the ironclad will that had seen him through med school, homelessness and a drunken, neglectful father.
Through months of denial and celibacy that had been his salvation.
‘Not yet,’ he said, and turned away before he made a total liar of himself.
Cade decided a few days of distance between dates wouldn’t go amiss and resolutely kept to himself as much as possible in a work situation where he seemed to run into Callie at least every other hour of the day.
On the fourth day he entered the NICU staffroom after another meeting about Trudy’s surgery, to find Callie the only occupant. She was making herself a cup of coffee and he faltered for a moment in the doorway.
Callie raised an eyebrow at his hesitation. ‘Alone at last,’ she said, taking a fortifying sip of hot caffeine. The last two cups had gone cold while she’d attended to an accidental extubation and a new admission via Theatres of a twenty-eight-weeker.
Cade gave her a self-deprecating smile. ‘I was just going to grab a coffee before going to Theatre,’ he said.
‘Help yourself,’ Callie said, moving out of the way so he could reach the hospital-supplied beverage range, which was hardly extensive.
Cade nodded, stepping into the space she’d just relinquished and busying himself with preparation as he waited for the jug to boil.
‘So,’ Callie said, ‘I’m not sure of the protocol now. Am I supposed to ask you on the second date?’
Cade ripped the top off the sugar packet and dumped in into the mug. ‘What’s your rush?’ he asked.
Callie looked behind her. She had her back to the doorway so she wasn’t sure if anyone was nearby and she sure as hell didn’t want anyone overhearing their conversation.
‘Well, I’m on a timeline here and as you’re already making me wait eight—’ she lowered her voice another notch ‘—dates before we get to the good stuff, I don’t think it’s fair that you should drag your feet in between.’
Water in the jug bubbled up the spout and Cade was pleased for the distraction. He took his time pouring it into the mug, adding milk and stirring.
‘How about you just concede?’ Callie suggested. ‘I won’t think any less of you.’
Cade gave a half smile as he tapped his teaspoon on the rim of the mug. Truth be told he wasn’t sure he could last eight dates and conceding was mighty tempting. But it had become a bit of a battle of wills between the two of them and he’d never backed down from a challenge.
Callie took a step towards him. They weren’t indecently close but her body hummed with awareness and she swore she could hear his do the same. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
Cade’s smiled broadened. He just bet she would. Was it wrong to be so turned on by her cockiness? ‘Do you fancy going to see the new James Bond movie tonight?’
Callie regarded him for a moment. So he was determined to stick to his guns. ‘Sure…Okay. Can we sit right up at the back and neck a little?’
He laughed this time. ‘No kissing, remember? That’s one of the rules.’
Cade noticed some movement in the corridor behind Callie and caught Natalie, phone to ear, approaching in his peripheral vision. Oh, hell. She’d already hinted to him yesterday that she’d be more than willing to slip into Callie’s place should things not work out between them.
So he did the first thing that came into his head—he c
losed the short distance between them and dropped a kiss straight onto Callie’s startled mouth. He could tell it was startled at first because it just stayed there frozen beneath the gentle pressure of his. But he knew the moment that startlement gave way to compliance. Her lips softened and a sigh parted them as she shifted into the kiss, and for long seconds, as their lips moved in a slow dance, he totally forgot everything around him.
Until Natalie entered the room, talking on her phone, and pulled up short. Callie broke away at the intrusion.
‘Oh…s-sorry…’ Natalie stuttered, her cheeks flaming.
Callie blinked, trying to get her head back from the cloud it had been stuck in. His scent still filled her nostrils and swirled like fairy dust in the air around her, and she leaned her hip against the nearby counter.
‘I’ll…just…take this outside,’ Natalie said, and departed as quickly as she’d arrived.
Callie narrowed her gaze at him as Natalie virtually disappeared before their eyes. Her lips buzzed. ‘I thought you said no kissing.’
Cade was more rattled than he liked to admit by the kiss. It had been meant to be a quick, possessive peck with a not-so-subtle message. Instead, he’d lost his head there for a moment.
He shrugged. ‘That wasn’t a kiss. It wasn’t real. It was just…pretence.’
Callie snorted. It had felt real. It had tasted real.
‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘You’ll know when I kiss you for real.’
‘Promises, promises,’ Callie murmured, injecting a lightness into her tone she didn’t feel.
He picked up his coffee with a smile that went all the way to his eyes. ‘I’ll text you the movie start time later, after I’ve checked it out.’
And then he walked out of the room, leaving Callie yearning for another kiss.
Real, pretend or otherwise.
Cade survived the movie night. 007 could have died in a fiery inferno and he wouldn’t have noticed, but he survived. Callie’s arm kept brushing up against him as she hogged the popcorn she’d told him she didn’t want when he’d bought it. Also the continual crossing and uncrossing of her legs had been very distracting. The flickering light from the screen illuminated her knees and kept drawing his gaze.