Some Like It Hotter

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Some Like It Hotter Page 11

by Isabel Sharpe


  Across the living room in the master bedroom, Ames had just emerged from his bathroom, torso naked, towel wrapped around his hips.

  She stopped short.

  So did he.

  Silence except for her high, quick breaths.

  His hands came off his hips. The towel dropped.

  Uh-oh.

  He walked toward her, his eyes not leaving hers.

  Double uh-oh.

  No, no, this was fine. She’d just explain to him that, um, she was... That he...

  Oh, my God, he was so handsome. Eva was crazy about him. She wanted him. Her instinct was not only green-lighting, but waving checkered flags, go go go go go.

  This was how she rolled.

  She let go of her towel and met him in the middle, arms sliding around his neck, welcoming the warmth of his skin against hers in the cool room.

  He felt perfect.

  She stood still, eyes closed, head buried in his neck, pressed close, savoring the solidity of his body, the security of his arms, the addictive smell of his skin, keeping tabs on her reactions.

  So far really great.

  Guest room? Who was she kidding? That wasn’t like her at all, rationalizing and intellectualizing her feelings. She wanted him. He wanted her. It should be just that simple, always that simple.

  Ames moved first, pressing kisses against her hair, on her temple, her cheek. Eva closed her eyes, gradually turned her face up to meet his mouth, keeping her thoughts away from feelings and analyses, indulging only the physical experience. Just in case the wobblies returned.

  His lips took hers; she moaned in relief and pleasure. Yes. Yes. This was right, this was what she’d been wanting and needing during the long days without him. And the way he was devouring her, she suspected he’d felt the same.

  Powerful chemistry between them. More than she’d ever experienced. But that was all it was.

  His kisses were varied, thrilling, never staged or self-conscious. His back was warm and solid, his buttocks firm and round under her fingers. She could stand here and touch and kiss him all night.

  His leg pushed between hers; his arms swept her back possessively. Mmm. She moved rhythmically against his thigh. Her arousal took off, her breathing stuttered. Stand here and touch and kiss him all night? Um, no. Eva wanted it all.

  Impatiently she slid her fingers down to explore his erection, then gave in to temptation and sagged to her knees.

  He had one of the most beautiful cocks she’d ever seen, thick without being monstrous, pale with a blushing tip, smooth and the perfect length to take into her mouth without feeling she wasn’t going to be able to handle it. He tasted clean from the shower, his skin soft and smooth.

  His hands landed on her shoulders. He moved his hips gently, letting her control the depth, emitting a breathy groan when her hand found his testicles and added new sensations.

  She liked this guy. He was hot and fun and sweet. If she could maintain her feelings at that same level, this could be her best three-week fling ever.

  As if he had heard her thoughts, he opened his eyes and caught her peeking at him. “I like the things we do together, Eva.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I hope it’s okay.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Do I seem to be suffering?”

  “No, but...” He reached down and drew her to her feet. “We’d agreed on only one night.”

  “We did. But...”

  “But...” He slid his fingers into her hair, drew her face up for a kiss. “One night wasn’t enough.”

  “No.”

  He bent down; she responded instinctively with a small jump into his arms, and he carried her into the guest room and laid her down gently on the queen-size bed.

  “Eva, I think I was wrong.” He put his hands on his hips, looking down at her with concern.

  “About?”

  “About not wanting to see you as much as possible the entire time you’re here.”

  “Ah.” She smiled warmly, letting loose an internal shriek of victory. “It’s a big man who can admit he’s wrong.”

  “Yeah, you know...” He glanced down. “I’m feeling really quite big right now.”

  “I noticed that.” She beckoned him up flush against the mattress, leaning forward to take him back into her mouth.

  “Wait.” He climbed onto the bed and turned so he could taste her at the same time.

  Ooh, good idea. His mouth was skilled, his tongue very talented exploring her. He knew just where to put the pressure and how to vary the rhythm and speed of stimulation.

  As her arousal increased, Eva took his cock in deeper, swirling her tongue, moaning at the pleasure he was giving her.

  Did she mention she really liked this guy?

  He moved away from her greedy mouth and turned to lie over her, kissed her hungrily, nudging her legs apart.

  “Ames...”

  “Mmm.”

  “Condom.”

  His face registered shock. “Right. Sorry. I was a little...carried away. Got out of the habit.”

  “You didn’t use them with your last girlfriend?”

  “Uh...no. She was on the Pill. And I really don’t want to talk about her with you lying there, naked and wet and—”

  “Mmph.” She clapped her hand over her mouth, then spread her fingers. “Yes, sorry. Bad sexual manners.”

  “I’ll get one.” He kissed her, slid out of bed and left the room.

  Eva lay waiting, stretching her arms up toward the ceiling, feeling as though she’d won the lottery. Best of all, she wasn’t feeling wobbly anymore. She was still crazy about Ames, but with the evening’s trauma receding, her feelings were familiar again, fizzy and fun. She and Ames were supremely hot for each other and that was a good thing, a healthy thing, and would make the next three weeks really, really fun.

  He was back in seconds with a fistful of condoms.

  “Well.” Eva started giggling. “I guess we’re going to be busy tonight.”

  “You have other plans?”

  “I thought I was supposed to get more sleep by staying here.”

  “You were.” He sat on the edge of the bed and drew his hand down her body. “But that was before I saw you with your hair down, wearing nothing but a towel. And then not even that.”

  “That tipped it, huh.”

  “Yes, but I wanted you before that, Eva.” He rolled on a condom, then bent over her, kissed her forehead, her nose, her mouth, her throat and down to take her breast into his warm mouth.

  Breath whooshed out of Eva’s lungs. “Oh, that is...really good.”

  “Mmm.” His tongue circled her nipple; his teeth bit gently, causing a pain-pleasure response she felt all the way down between her legs. “I agree.”

  Eva was one lucky woman. She wouldn’t be here right now, experiencing these exquisite sensations in her body and in her awareness of his, if she hadn’t showered at the same time Ames did. If she hadn’t called him earlier tonight. If Drunk Creepy Guy hadn’t bothered her...

  She should send him a thank-you note.

  Ames began his adoration of her other breast, her other nipple...

  Eva rolled to her side and hooked her leg over the top of his hip so his warm penis teased her sex, slight nudges that would take him where he wanted to go—where she wanted him, too.

  He groaned and took hold of her buttock, pressing her firmly against his erection. “I’m getting this...this vision of our future.”

  “Yes?” She wriggled down slightly to improve the angle between their bodies. “Wait...I’m seeing it, too. It involves you deep inside me. Yes?”

  “Yes.” He rolled her to her back, grinning sensually, and kissed her. “Ye-e-e-es.”

  “Mmm.” Eva reached for his erection with one hand and guided it home, spreading her labia with the other so he could slide in easily. “Ohhh.” She spoke against his mouth, loving that first penetration, the way his cock gradually advanced, stretching her, pushing in, pulling out, bit by bit fart
her in until he filled her completely.

  Ames gave a groan of pleasure, then lifted his head and met her gaze, somber and sweet. She felt breathless, almost dizzy, trying to smile, not sure why it was suddenly difficult. He started to move, sending jolts of sexual energy through her nerve endings, his eyes warm and tender holding hers.

  Eva’s almost-smile faded. Her heart gave a few uncertain flips. The wobbly feeling was back, as if she were on the brink of a chasm she didn’t understand, wasn’t sure she could handle falling into. She hooked her feet over his calves, used the leverage to return his thrusts, increasing the speed, trying to regain her stability in a solid base of desire.

  It sort of worked. She closed her eyes, concentrated on the delicious friction of his erection inside her, the tugs on her clitoris that would eventually send her into ecstasy, the warmth of his chest against her breasts, the feel of his back muscles under her fingers, the bunch and release of his buttock muscles as he pushed in and out.

  Sort of worked... Lifting her knees, she spread them wide, tightening her channel around him. Ames’s breathing accelerated, became harsh. He slowed his movements, trying to hold back for her, then reached between them, rubbing her clitoris as he thrust, holding his weight up on his left arm.

  Eva’s desire rose, hot and sharp, became tinged with welcome desperation. The more she felt in her body the less she could feel in her heart. She thrashed on the pillow, lifted her head, let it drop, moaning, slave to this man’s fingers on her, the penetration bringing her closer and closer to her climax, inevitable now, burning toward her, low and away, then sweeping her up slow-motion to a height where it stretched nearly interminably before bursting into a peak.

  She cried out at the dizzying explosion, clutching his arms as her muscles contracted around him.

  Ames dropped fully back onto her, pushing hard, then stiffened, thrust once, twice, breathing out in a harsh groan as he came.

  Oh, gosh. Oh, my gosh. She wasn’t sure she’d ever come that hard in her life.

  No, it wasn’t that. She hadn’t come that hard with someone, feeling nearly a part of him. Not ever before. Not even close.

  Oh, gosh.

  She clasped Ames’s body to her, panting, feeling his skin, his breath, his warmth. Instead of the usual exhilarating rush of triumphant infatuation, there was a deep, gravely sweet ache in her chest.

  This wasn’t right. This was weird. She should be happy, for heaven’s sake. Men made her happy! Being held in a man’s arms was sheer bliss. This was not bliss. It was somber and intense and almost frightening.

  And when Ames lifted his head and gazed into her eyes without a hint of a grin, without a hint of the score! mentality, just a visual reflection of the lovely serious feeling inside her, it all became much worse. She nearly burst into tears.

  Ames Cooke was so beautiful.

  Eva Meyer was so messed up.

  He excused himself to clean up. Eva lay still, staring blankly at the ceiling, giving herself a good talking-to. Something was troubling her, that was all. Maybe she was homesick for California and investing too much in her emotions around Ames as some kind of substitute safe harbor. Maybe deep down she felt guilty, that she should be home with Zac. Maybe she’d acted recklessly moving here, and didn’t belong in this intense black-and-white city with all her crazy California colors.

  No, no, that was all too dramatic, even for her. She had simply succumbed to fatigue and tonight’s earlier drama. A good night’s sleep and she’d be fine. In the meantime, footsteps told her Ames was coming back, and he was not going to find her mopey and confused after they’d had so much fun.

  “Hey.” Ames slid back into bed. “I enjoyed that, Eva. Maybe you could tell?”

  She giggled at his blissful expression. “Uh, I had some idea, yes. Maybe you could tell I enjoyed it too when I came and my head nearly shot off?”

  “Amazing.”

  “I know!”

  He slid his arms around her. Miraculously, they found a comfortable position nearly right away. The extra arm that always got in the way didn’t seem to be a problem. Eva burrowed into him, prepared to lie in the unfamiliar embrace and count sheep.

  She made it to about fifteen...and then...

  Good morning.

  Eva dragged herself up from sleep. Deep male voice, someone kissing her shoulder. Mmm, what a nice way to wake—

  Wait, morning? Her eyes shot open. “What time is it?”

  “Way early. You’ve got time to shower and get to the shop by five.”

  “Oh, my God, I can’t believe I didn’t set an alarm or anything.” She threw off the covers. “You saved my butt.”

  “I set an alarm.” His mouth was investigating her shoulder. “It went off in my room.”

  “I didn’t hear it!” She tried to get up, but there was an iron arm around her waist. “Um. Ames?”

  “Five minutes.” His hand slid up to cover her breasts.

  “No, no, there isn’t time to—”

  “Three minutes.” He began pressing rhythmically against her bottom.

  She giggled. “Why do they make men so horny first thing in the morning?”

  “Because that’s when they’re likely to have women in bed with them.”

  “We’re also there at night.”

  “Men are horny then, too. Doubles the chance for babies. Survival of the species.”

  “I’m more concerned right now about survival of the coffee shop.”

  “Aw, sure.” He loosened his arm. “Abandon me in my time of need.”

  “Don’t worry.” She got out of bed and kissed his temple. “For the next three weeks I will make it my personal mission to help you out of as many horny moments as I can.”

  Ames grinned, holding out his arms. “My angel of mercy.”

  She snorted. “Get some sleep. I’ll let myself out.”

  In the bathroom she showered superspeed, threw her hair into a ponytail on top of her head, dressed and brushed her teeth. On her way out, she stopped. Hesitated. Then backtracked, giving in to one last impulse.

  Feet making no sound on the deep carpet, she tiptoed back to the guest room, dimly lit by the light she’d turned on in the hall, and peeked around the door. Ames was sleeping on his back, covers pushed down around his waist, broad chest exposed. Under the blankets, the shape of his muscular legs.

  Eva’s man for the next three weeks, to lust, honor and ravage, till California did them part.

  Her lips curved in a smile. She’d been right: she felt much better this morning after a good sleep. Back on track, solid, consumed with thoughts of the café and what needed doing that morning and beyond. Today she wanted to think about inexpensive ways to change the feel of the shop, introduce softness, color and whimsy. She wanted to set up a date between Tom and Natalie. She wanted to find ways to—

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  Eva jumped at the sound of his deep voice breaking the silence. Her smile grew wider. She wanted to find ways to enjoy this gorgeous man however possible while she was here.

  “Thank you, Ames. I’d love that.”

  9

  EVA WIPED DOWN the counter in front of the gleaming Beast one more time. After two weeks she still hadn’t established a karmic connection with this machine. Back in California she had a sixth sense for hers, understood when it was feeling grumpy from too much humidity or heat. This one, she had to pull several shots each morning before she got it right, tasting each cup carefully, adjusting the grind, the dosing, the timing, sometimes fussing with the blend for maximum flavor balance, sometimes several times.

  Besides that, so far the day had gone well. An October pumpkin-bread special had sold out—the rush of morning commuters had seemed particularly hungry—then they’d suffered the usual dead space midmorning. With lunch hour winding down now, the midafternoon lull had started. At the moment the store held Tom, in his jeans and sweatshirt as he was pretty much every afternoon, and an older man reading the New Yorker.
>
  Those empty hours were the ones Eva wanted to target with her changes to the store. Commuters racing in and out didn’t care about atmosphere; they wanted a quick jolt of caffeine, thanks, goodbye. But those who had the time and would rather linger—they needed luring in and they needed a reason to stay. For that reason, instead of cleaning for the two o’clock shift change, she was getting ready to close.

  This afternoon she was conducting a grand tour of thrift stores with Ames. He didn’t know that yet, but he’d find out soon. A quick call yesterday to Jean, always happy to snoop in the name of matchmaking, confirmed that Ames had only one appointment this afternoon, with a client he often complained needed more hand-holding than necessary. Further meddling—on Jean’s initiative, Eva would never go that far—revealed that the client would be just as happy seeing Ames the next morning, in fact, the reschedule was really a better time. And voilà, Ames was free.

  Jean was brilliant. Eva should give her a lifelong gift certificate to NYEspresso.

  As for the shopping, Eva still hadn’t made any firm decisions. She was counting on inspiration to determine what the narrow cold space needed to cozy it up. So far she’d come up with a few fun themes, but they made her nervous. Too much change could be jarring and disconcerting to customers. Natalie the decorator might have good ideas, but she’d either been crabby or rushing to go out whenever Eva fished for suggestions, and had responded only with grunts and promises to think about it.

  “So what are we closing for, exactly?” Ben was working the register today. Rebecca’s incessant chatter had made Eva thoughtfully share her with Jinx’s time on bar. Ben was a little dense, maybe, a little rumpled, but a sweetheart, with tattoos and piercings that made Eva look like a rank amateur.

  “I talked to Chris last night. I’ve been thinking the decor here could use a little changing.”

  “Yeah?” Ben glanced around dubiously. “Looks okay to me.”

  This from a guy who clearly didn’t bother with a mirror in the morning.

  “I wonder if it could be more...” Eva gestured around her. “Fun.”

 

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