Make Me a Match (The Soul Mate Tree Book 5)

by Mackenzie Lucas

  By the sheen of perspiration on her skin, Athena Sullivan was a little hot and bothered by their latest interaction. Which boded well for him. At least for the part of him that wanted to fuck her into next week. However, it did not bode well for the part of him that suddenly wanted to please Athena and make everything better. Or the part of him holding out for perfection in one Daphne Moore. Hells bells.

  ~ ~ ~

  By date number nine, Mark was ready to poke his eyes out. He was so done. Period. The most interesting conversation he’d had, the one with the most spark and potential, had been with his enigmatic relationship coach. He couldn’t quite figure her out. For such a lusty, sensual woman, who cast an image of actively engaging every man around her, she had some explaining to do if her last serious relationship had been five years ago and if, as he guessed from her non-response, she’d never had hot, prolonged sex with a guy for hours. What was that all about?

  Her body was made for sex. For hours of athletic, cardio-burning, mind-blowing sex. Given the chance, he’d worship her body for hours and have her screaming with the kind of pleasure she’d never forget.

  The whistle blew, drawing his attention back to the last date. Only the table was empty across from him. He searched the room for his date-apparent. No one seemed unoccupied or on her way to his table. He waved down a waiter and ordered another scotch.

  Already a minute into the session, maybe his date had defected. He could certainly understand. Shit, he’d wanted to leave by date number three.

  Across the room, Athena was interacting with an animated couple. Argument, already? How did that happen? Well, she certainly wouldn’t come to his rescue. The waiter brought the drink. He downed it, slightly buzzed from the others he’d had during the last hour, and surveyed the room.

  “Ahem. Sorry I’m late. I had to run to the restroom.”

  Mark turned back, finding his final date. Daphne.

  “Well, hello, princess. How are you?” He leaned forward onto his elbows. The tallboy table rocked. Daphne grabbed it with two hands so it didn’t topple over.

  “Sorry,” he said, soft and slurry.

  Her brow furrowed and her hand flew to the top button of her blouse, which alarmingly enough, really was at her throat. She glanced down at his glass and back up at him. “How many of those have you had?”

  “Two in the bar and four here.”

  “Oh, my.”

  She cowered just a little more, as if making herself a tiny bit smaller. Her face had a gray pallor and her mouth quivered. Mouse. The word popped into Mark’s head.

  Then she flinched, and he wondered if he’d said the word out loud. Hell, he couldn’t be sure. He was drunk, but she was the one who appeared sick.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked.

  She picked at the top button of her blouse. “Yes, perfectly fine. Thank you for asking.”

  Daphne did seem suddenly pale and a tad fragile. Of course, he couldn’t tell if she was really sick or just looked that way because he was comparing her to the bigger than life personality of Athena. Didn’t matter. This was the woman he wanted. His perfect woman. He considered his watch. He had less than three minutes to chat her up and ask her for a real date.

  “Okay. Fine. Well, let’s get started.” He cleared his throat. “So, tell me a little about yourself, Daphne.”

  “Hmmm. I’m a homebody. I enjoy reading. Cooking. Quilting.”

  “Lovely.” It was, really. He could picture her doing all of those in his house.

  “Where are you from, Daphne?”

  “Kansas, but I’m thinking of relocating to St. Augustine.”

  “Even better.” He leaned forward, and she pulled back.

  He eased off and she relaxed. He feinted again, slowly moving forward to see how she’d react. She flinched again.

  What the hell? A tiny growl escaped Mark’s throat.

  Daphne’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes opened wide as she blinked at him in shock. “Are you okay?”

  If he couldn’t be straightforward with this woman now, a relationship between them had no chance. “Do I frighten you?”

  “No.” The word shot out quick, like an arrow. One hand played with her blouse button and the other rubbed her neck. She glanced at his glass a third time, then back at his face. “Do you usually drink much?”

  “This? Oh, I’m fine. This is nothing. There are nights I put away twice this amount.”

  Her forehead creased in concern. “Really?” Now the hand was at her throat.

  Clearly, not the right answer. “But I don’t have a problem with alcohol, I can assure you.”

  She was quiet a long moment. “Well, isn’t that what most alcoholics would tell you?”

  He clamped down on the snarl that wanted to erupt from his chest and instead clenched his teeth, staring into the distance for a few seconds to control his temper. The woman had just called him an alcoholic in less than a four-minute conversation. “I don’t think you know me well enough to make that judgment, Miss Moore.” His words came out soft, measured.

  Her eyes opened a little wider and she took a step back. “No, I’m sure I don’t, Mr. Cage. I didn’t mean . . .”

  “Quite all right.” He forced a smile. And for the hell of it, beckoned to the waiter for another drink. The twenty-something guy nodded and lifted two fingers, asking if he wanted a double. Mark tilted his head in affirmation.

  He turned back to catch Daphne warily watching the waiter who just agreed to bring him his next libation.

  “Well, I think I really should be going. I’m suddenly not feeling great. Must have been something I ate. I think I’ll go up to my room and lie down.”

  Mark sucked in a long, deep breath.

  He had no doubt he’d see her again; she was, after all, his perfect woman.

  “You do that, princess. I’m sure I’ll see you around soon enough.”

  The wariness returned to her eyes, which by the way were a chocolate brown color. He’d be sure to mention the fact to Sally. Booyah.

  “Good night, Mr. Cage. Enjoy your drink.”

  “I’m sure I will.” The waiter placed the glass in front of him. Mark picked it up and used it to salute Daphne. “I’m sure I will. ‘Night. Sweet dreams.”

  Chapter 6

  Better With Time

  “What happened? She left early.” As Athena came up behind Mark, her breast brushed his back when he straightened. Her body heat and sweet, clean scent enveloped him, making him hard. Shit. Still.

  He waved his hand. “No worries. It was great. She was sick.”

  “She was fine ten minutes ago.”

  “Oh, well.” Mark downed some of his drink, then set it on the tabletop. “She’s not into me yet, but she will be, you’ll see.”

  Athena picked up his glass, sniffed, then sipped. Her right eyebrow disappeared under the fringe of her soft bangs. Her eyes sparkled. The intense color took his breath away. “How many of these did you tell her you had?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I told you I was good at reading body language.”

  “And lips, too, apparently.”

  “A little, when necessary. How many?”

  He let out a gusty breath. “I told her the truth. Two in the bar and four at the table.”

  Athena rolled her eyes. “Great, just great. Now she thinks you’re an alcoholic.”

  “Yep. Bingo.”

  “Shit. I have my work cut out for me.”

  “Yes, you do, my Greek goddess.”

  “Original. Not like I’ve not heard that one a million times.”

  “Only I bet you’re not the virgin goddess, are you? You’re Aphrodite. The goddess of love and sensuality.”

  Athena grabbed his
hand. “Come on, I think I need to get you into bed.”

  “My point exactly.” He pushed himself up straight, listed to one side, righted himself, then drained his drink and slammed the glass back down. “Let’s go. I’m ready. Sex all night, babe.”

  She laughed at him, taking his arm in hers and guiding him out of the room. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart. You’re going to need a bed in about ten minutes. Seven scotches in less than an hour, they’ll be catching up with you real soon. Then, you’re going to get sick. I think you need to come to my room and sleep it off.”

  “Damn.” His words slurred ever so slightly and he stumbled. “No fun.”

  “Nope, and it’s going to be a helluva lot worse in the morning when you have the hangover from Hades. Did you bother to hydrate?”

  “I did. With scotch.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to do it. Come on. Up we go.” She punched the elevator button.

  A few minutes later, they were in her room. Mark had never been in a guest room at Essence. It was calm and inviting. His head began to spin. “Uh-oh.”

  He grabbed her to steady himself.

  “What?” She studied his face, sober and intent. Beautiful.

  “Is this one of those revolving rooms?”

  “Shit. Let’s get you into the bathroom.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Nope, we’re going to stick you in the shower.”

  “You just want to see me naked.”

  “Yes, I do. But I didn’t think it would happen this way, big guy.”

  He pulled her to a stop inside the bathroom. “You really like me, don’t you?” He figured he had a big goofy smile on his face, and he didn’t care. Not right now.

  “Yes, you dope, I do like you. I think you’ve got a lot going for you. You’re funny and sexy, a great father, a good provider, and uber-responsible. What’s not to like? And if you could just shut off your bad attitude long enough for someone to get to know you, you’d be set.”

  “Awww. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Mark, that’s probably the only nice thing I’ve said to you.”

  He thought about it, trying to wade through the muddle in his brain. “Might be.”

  “Let’s get you in the shower before you get sick. Maybe we can head this off at the pass.” She began to unbutton his shirt. He liked the sensation of her fingers as they brushed his skin with the release of each button. His cock hardened. He buried his nose in her hair. “You smell great.”

  She chuckled. “I think your Scotch is talking to me, sir.”

  He backed her against the glass wall of the shower, hands on either side of her head, their bodies pressed close enough that there’d be no way she could miss the bulge behind his zipper. “It’s not the Scotch talking.”

  “Mmmm.” She wiggled against him. “I can tell.”

  Her breasts, spilling out of the blue dress, were plastered to his bare chest. Skin on skin felt incredible. He lifted a hand to trace the soft swell.

  Athena sucked in a breath and the sound that came from her throat sounded like a purr.

  Mark bent to kiss the column of her neck. He nipped, causing her to gasp then moan.

  She arched against him.

  He dipped his fingers under the low neckline of the dress and freed her breast, cupping it in his palm. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.” He lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

  Again, she groaned. “Mmmm. So good.”

  Mark’s world began to spin in earnest. He didn’t know if it was from the chemistry of this hot, sexy woman, or from all the Scotch he’d consumed, but he suddenly wasn’t steady on his feet. “I need to sit down.”

  His voice came out on a low groan.

  “Uh-oh, you’re going down, big guy.”

  Athena readjusted herself, then pulled open the shower door and shoved him inside to perch on the tiled bench. “Sit, while I get the rest of your clothes off.”

  “Sounds promising.”

  She snorted. “You’re not going to think so in about five minutes.”

  She tugged off his shoes and socks. Pulled his unbuttoned shirt from his arms. “Lean back against the wall,” she ordered.

  “Damn, you’re bossy.” He held his head and groaned.

  “You have no idea.” Unzipping his jeans, she pushed them down his hips, then tugged them off to leave him sitting in his boxers.

  He lifted his head and asked, “You bossy in bed?”

  Her mouth twitched. “Sometimes.”

  “Huumpf.”

  She stepped out of the huge shower. “I’m going to turn the water on, brace yourself.”

  “Hey, I still got my boxers on.”

  She shrugged. “That’s your deal.”

  “Wait.” He shot to his feet, shucked his boxers, kicking them out of the shower, before he listed left and caught himself with a hand on the tiled shower wall.

  She sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”

  “What?” He focused his blurry vision on her and saw her eyeing his rigid cock.

  “Nothing.” She licked her lips. “You are one mighty fine man, Mark Cage.” She bit her bottom lip. “Mmm mmm mmm.”

  Her words and the glimpse of her soft pink tongue made him even harder.

  He held himself up, one hand flat on the wall, and gripped his cock with his other hand. “Why don’t you come in here with me? Find out how fine?”

  “Ah, no. Probably not a good plan for me to take advantage of you in this state.”

  He stroked himself. “In this state? Aroused, you mean? You could boss me around. I wouldn’t mind.”

  She cleared her throat. “No, in your drunken state. I’d have no problem taking advantage of you, bossing you around, and letting you take advantage of me and boss me around if you were stone-cold sober, but you’re not.”

  “You’re no fun.” He peered at her through lowered lids as he fisted his cock.

  She stepped close to him in the shower. Her lips barely grazed the soft hairs on his chest. She flicked her tongue out to touch the tip of his nipple, then she nuzzled his neck before she spoke softly into his ear. “I am more fun than you can handle, big guy. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  Then she was gone and a cold blast of water hit him square in the face, causing him to gasp, sputter, then roar. After a few moments, he figured out how to turn the water warmer and stayed under the spray until his world wasn’t spinning quite so much. That might have been five minutes, it might have been thirty-five minutes, he had no idea. But when he finished in the shower, he grabbed an oversized towel and stumbled into the bedroom. She was gone. On the bed was a note. Rest well.

  Mark did just that by falling onto the bed and into the deepest sleep he’d had in a very long time.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sunlight jammed an ice pick into Mark’s brain, forcing his eyes open. He moaned and rolled over, burying his face in a pillow and holding on tight. Hangovers were a bitch. Damn, why did he do this to himself? Trying to outrun my own demons, that’s why. A night of drinking helped him outpace his fears of facing the future alone. But fuck, he paid for it the next day.

  A soft sigh next to him had him lifting his head, despite the pain and extreme effort it took.

  Where was he?

  Then he noticed the woman next to him in bed.

  Athena. Wearing a worn, soft T-shirt that had worked its way above her hips, exposing the tiniest black G-string he’d ever seen. Clearly she invested in a monthly Brazilian, because as far as he could tell, and with the small swatch of fabric, he could certainly see . . . she was bare, smooth, and sexy as hell.

  Her long legs were sprawled. And she had one arm hanging off the bed and the othe
r thrown across her face, no doubt, to block the damned blinding sun that poured in her open window. Sheer curtains billowed in the sea breeze. Damn, if she wasn’t the best thing he’d seen in forever. He wanted to reach out and touch her, caress her. But he didn’t have that right. Even though he vaguely remembered her close to him in the shower last night, whispering words in his ear, he couldn’t remember the exact context, or if they’d come to some kind of understanding.

  So, it was no go. Not until she woke and they discussed it like civilized human beings. He wanted to touch her in the worst way. Wake her with kisses. Claim her like the Neanderthal she often accused him of acting like.

  His cock responded.

  Instead of doing what he wanted this morning, he quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

  He found an extra set of toiletries in a basket. Did she have so many guests that she needed to have extras on hand for the multitude of men who populated her life? Hell. That didn’t sit well with him. He hated the idea of anyone else touching Athena, even though he had absolutely no claim on her. None whatsoever.

  Mark brushed his teeth, climbed into the shower, lathered himself up, and washed his hair. After rinsing, he toweled dry and found his clothes neatly folded on a chair next to the bathroom sink. The woman was a wonder.

  He dressed, then went to find coffee in the kitchen. The suites here at Essence were quite luxurious and equipped with everything someone could need. He brewed a cup of coffee for himself, then one for Athena. Carrying both into the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

  “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She moaned, but her eyes slowly opened. She didn’t try to cover herself, only stretched a little. “You’re up early for a man with a hangover.”

  “Figured I’d better not wear out my welcome, or my relationship coach would be all over me.”

  “You wish,” she teased.

  He did wish. In the worst and all the best ways, too. He wanted this woman. Bad.