by Rainey, Anne
Her eyes widened, as if she was genuinely surprised by the news. Hadn’t she noticed the attention? There was something very innocent about Marquetta, even though she appeared every inch the siren in the sexy dress and pumps. When she mentioned going for coffee instead, Jensen’s hope of taking her back to his place disintegrated.
“You don’t want dinner?” Jensen asked, not really caring about food. He just wanted to spend time with her.
“I’m not particularly hungry, to be honest. And the coffee shop is just down the street a little ways,” she said, her voice hopeful. “On the corner.”
Not quite what he had in mind, but it was better than the loud bar. “You’re sure it’s coffee you want?”
Marquetta laughed. “A cappuccino wasn’t what you were imagining, huh?”
He shook his head as his libido took a nosedive. Cappuccino? No. Feasting on her body in the quiet confines of his bedroom? Hell, yes. But if coffee put a smile on the woman’s face, then he’d suck it up and do what he had to do.
Ten minutes later, he was sitting in a cozy little café, sipping on a mug full of something hot with a hint of vanilla. It was a far cry from his usual Maxwell House, but if it got her out of the bar and away from the lecherous stares of the men inside, then yee-haw. “What is it about places like that crowded, noisy bar that makes people gravitate toward them? All it does is make me feel claustrophobic.”
Marquetta peered up at him. “The companionship. That need to forget all your problems, even if it is only for a few hours.”
Jensen considered her words. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, all signs of teasing gone. “Is that why you were there tonight, Marquetta? To forget your troubles?”
Marquetta’s face heated, as if she hadn’t expected him to pick up on that. “Yes, I wanted to…put my worries aside for a little while.”
Jensen took her hand in his, noticing how she automatically laced her fingers with his own. He didn’t think she even realized she’d done it. “I don’t like to see you sad, sweetheart.”
The genuine concern in Jensen’s tone surprised her. “Everyone gets sad sometimes.”
She had no idea what was going through Jensen’s mind as he stared across the small table at her. He’d barely touched his cup of hot, vanilla-flavored cappuccino.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
As she stared at him, a slight frown creased his brows, and all she could think about was kissing it away. “Huh?”
Marquetta chuckled. “The cappuccino. Do you like it?”
Jensen glared at his barely touched cup as if it were going to bite him. “Uh, it’s not exactly a Corona, but it’s okay.”
She cringed at his comparison, then watched in astonishment as he picked up the mug and sipped again. He made a face and swallowed as if sharp pieces of glass were sliding down his throat, instead of the rich, sweet-flavored drink. She tilted her head, totally confounded by him. “But then, why on earth are you drinking it?”
His brows knitted together as if utterly confused. “Because you asked me to, why else?”
That confused her no end. “Are you telling me you’re only drinking that because I wanted you to?”
Jensen quirked a brow at her. “Sweetheart, do I look like a cappuccino kind of guy to you?”
Marquetta simply didn’t know what to say to that. He was forcing himself to drink something he hated, and all because she wished to share a cappuccino with him. What was she supposed to think when he did things like that? Sometimes he made her feel as if everything she did, everything she said was of the utmost importance to him. He was so different from Sheldon, and for some reason, that scared her. She didn’t know how to handle his genuine kindness. If she wasn’t careful, her heart was going to fall right into Jensen’s waiting hands.
She moved to take the cup from him, but Jensen stopped her by placing his hand on hers. His felt large and warm to her smaller hand. “Earlier at the bar, you had a question for me,” he said.
Marquetta cleared her throat. “Yes, I asked what you do for a living.”
She still didn’t draw her hand away, and Jensen seemed to take her hesitance as an attempt to keep him from drinking the coffee. “I’m a financial analyst.” He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before setting their connected hands on the table beside the cup.
“What is that exactly?” she asked as she made a valiant effort to calm her racing pulse.
“In a nutshell, I study financial data that helps corporations make sound investment decisions. Crap like spreadsheets and financial reports. Sort of boring, really.”
Jensen sat back, getting more comfortable in the small booth. Beneath the table, there was a lot of legroom, and Marquetta noticed Jensen had maneuvered his legs along either side of hers, all but caging her in. Each time his knees nudged her, it sent a spark of heat through her body.
“If it’s boring, then why do it?”
“It wasn’t always boring.” He cocked his head to the side. “Which is why I recently decided it was time for a change and came up with our Man-Maid idea. But that won’t be up and running for a few weeks yet.”
“I see.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “And what do you do when you aren’t making graphs?”
“The usual guy stuff, I suppose.”
“Watch football and drink beer?” She winked. “Sounds exciting.”
He chuckled. “It’s not all OSU Buckeyes and Bud Light. Sometimes I read too, believe it or not.”
“You’re a constant surprise, Jensen Kershaw.”
Silence stretched between them before he said, “What is this that brings me to my knees? You whip through me like a breeze. Yet I feel the answer in my soul. You make me delightfully whole. Like a sorcerer, I conjure the world away, and my heart can do no other than obey. For my body follows the route of love, as the heavens command me from above. Take me as I am, my love, and let our souls fly to the sun.”
Marquetta’s mouth dropped open. Had he just recited poetry to her? Yes, he definitely had. Christ almighty, she was ready to melt into a damned puddle at his feet. “Who wrote that? It’s beautiful.”
Jensen couldn’t believe he’d just said those words aloud. It had just poured right out of him. He really was going soft for the woman. “I must have read it somewhere.” Never in a million years would he tell her he’d written it himself.
Her gaze narrowed. “You remembered the poem word for word, yet you don’t know the poet?”
He shook his head. “Whatever. I feel like we’re getting off the subject here.”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I sort of like this subject.”
The last thing he wanted was to get into his poetry. It was too personal. No one knew about it, not even Jason. “What about you?”
“You already know what I do for a living.”
“The images you paint, they’re pretty impressive. It’s not your normal career path, though.”
“No, it isn’t, but I’ve always enjoyed art.”
Immediately, Marquetta appeared to close down. Jensen couldn’t figure out what he’d said wrong. “I imagine it’s a damn sight more interesting than charts and financial data,” he said, hoping to get her talking about herself a little more.
“I suppose so, yes. I think I was one of the few people in college who knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what they wanted to do with their life. Painting has always been my first love.”
Jensen thought about that comment. “I’m surprised you didn’t move on to bigger and better things after graduating. Someone with your talent could be raking it in, I’d think.”
“If I’d actually graduated, yes. As it turns out, college and I were a bit like oil and water. We didn’t mix.”
“I see. Do you regret it?”
“I regret a lot of things,” she replied.
Her answer was evasive, and Jensen wondered why. He recalled the conversation he’d had with her brother Axel at the bar. He’d hinted that Marquetta had been
hurt in the past. Had it been during her college days? And though he wanted to probe for more, instinct told him that he’d lose her if he pushed too hard. Instead, Jensen leaned forward and dropped his voice to a seductive whisper. “Do you regret going out with me, Marquetta?”
Her face flushed pink, and Jensen’s cock thickened at the pretty sight. “No. I’ve enjoyed myself tonight.” She paused a moment before adding, “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured as he stared at a little dot of whipped cream at the corner of her mouth. He touched her cheek, enjoying the soft texture of her skin, and said, “You have a little spot right here…” Then he kissed her.
It was a light peck and not at all the hot, scorching kiss he ached to plant on her. He lifted his head and said, “There, all gone.”
“T-thank you.” She cleared her throat. “So, tell me, how in the world did you come up with your maid-service idea?”
“Well, I admit there were a few beers involved.” He winked. “But once I got my head around the notion, it just sort of felt…right.”
She shook her head. “For some reason, you seem less like a housekeeper and more like a motorcycle gang member.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “And you look more like a cover model,” he murmured. “I guess it’s true, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
She looked over and saw the time on the wall. Eleven p.m. The coffee shop was open all night, but Marquetta knew that she needed to end their date soon; otherwise, she was going to lose the willpower to do so.
Jensen followed her line of sight and groaned. “Time’s up, huh?”
“I do have to be at work early tomorrow,” she said. “I had a good time, though.”
A half hour later, Marquetta let herself into her house, then turned around. Jensen leaned against the porch railing. He’d insisted on following her to be sure she made it home safely. “You really didn’t have to escort me to my door. I’m a grown woman, Jensen.”
He moved toward her and touched her cheek with his palm. “It was my pleasure.”
On impulse, Marquetta closed the inches separating them, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Jensen stiffened; then, suddenly, his hands cupped her face as he angled his head for a better, deeper taste.
She licked at the seam of his lips, and when he opened to her, Marquetta took the advantage, slipping her tongue inside his mouth. Quickly, Jensen took over, pressing his own tongue to hers, tangling and dueling. The match was on, and he was winning. She didn’t care so long as he didn’t stop. Unfortunately, her brain kicked in and shoved her libido to the curb. Slowly, Marquetta pulled her mouth away from his, licking her lips as she went, and stared into his sexy, hooded blue eyes. There was so much heat there, she desperately wanted to act on it, but fear kept her rooted to the spot. When she’d been with Sheldon, she’d let her emotions run the show, and that couldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t survive the fallout a second time. She’d need to guard her heart with Jensen, or she would find herself handing it over to him on a silver platter.
“Thank you for a lovely night,” she said as she stepped into the house.
His gaze traveled over her body, then locked with hers once more. “Tell me it won’t be the last, and I’ll breathe easy.” His voice was rough and low and completely delicious.
“It won’t be the last,” she promised.
Jensen stared at her another moment, then said, “I’d better get my ass home, before I decide not to be a gentleman.”
Once he was in his car and backing down the driveway, Marquetta closed the door and let out a heavy breath. The effects of his masterful mouth teased a path clear to her toes. Holy hell, the man made her knees go weak. “What the hell am I doing?” she mumbled to herself. Her pulse raced and her body temperature was out of control, and all because of Jensen Kershaw and his sinful kisses. She knew good and well the reason she was sweating had nothing to do with the heat outside.
This was one of those moments in life when calling your BFF was the only sane thing to do. She grabbed her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Bridget’s number. Marquetta had been friends with Bridget since the fourth grade. They knew everything about each other. Definitely more than enough dirty details to keep each other honest.
“This had better be good,” Bridget ground out. She sounded sleepy.
“Oops, I woke you, didn’t I?”
She heard some rustling around, then Bridget said, “Yeah, but it’s okay. What’s up?”
“I need dating advice,” she answered as she crossed the room and plopped onto the couch.
Bridget went silent. Of course, that lasted all of ten seconds. “You do? But who? How?” She whistled, clearly stunned and now wide awake. “Whew, he must be something to get your attention. Tell me everything.”
“There isn’t anything to tell, not really.” She paused, then added, “His name is Jensen Kershaw, and he’s smokin’ hot. And I’m in way too deep here.”
“How’d you two meet? You never even go anywhere except the shop and to the grocery store.”
“I sort of saved him from being squashed by a semi. He offered to take me to dinner as a way to thank me.”
“And?”
“That’s it. There isn’t anything else to tell.”
“You haven’t slept with him?”
“Of course not, we only just met.”
“So?” Bridget replied. “It’s not 1950. You won’t get tarred and feathered for sleeping with a man, sweetie.”
Marquetta rolled her eyes and leaned down to take off her heels. They were killing her. “I realize that, but I still like to know a guy before I hop into bed with him.” She gritted her teeth as she massaged her swollen feet.
“What’s this stud look like anyway?” Bridget asked, too curious for Marquetta’s peace of mind.
After Marquetta described him, her friend said, “Well, if you don’t want him, then send him my way.”
Marquetta felt a horrible stab of jealousy and couldn’t stop herself from muttering, “Back off, woman.”
Needless to say, Bridget couldn’t resist teasing her. “Ah, it’s like that, is it?” Sometimes having a best friend since grade school was a serious pain in the tush, because they knew you too freaking well.
Marquetta took a deep breath. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
“Then my advice to you is to jump the man’s bones.” Her tone turned serious as she added, “You deserve a little fun, sweetie.”
Marquetta’s heart warmed. “I love you, Bridg.”
“I know.” She yawned. “Now, let me get back to sleep. I was having the most delicious dream before you so rudely woke me.”
She laughed. “Fine. Call me tomorrow, when you aren’t so surly.”
Two hours later, Marquetta was still a little dazed from Jensen’s kiss and sleep was nowhere in sight. The man was bad for her self-discipline. Bad for her hard-won independence. Hell, just plain bad. God, already she ached to feel his strong arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and warm, as if she was meant to be a part of him, a part of his life.
Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? There were plenty of eager men out there. She could have found someone who was easier to manage. Someone who didn’t set her heart racing with a mere glance. Someone who didn’t keep her up at night wondering what it would be like to make love to him.
And yet, the little talk did her no good at all. She still couldn’t imagine being with another man. Having another touch her in all those soft, warm places that she ached to have Jensen touch. She also knew in the deepest part of her soul that no other man could ever make her blood heat like he did with a simple peck on the cheek.
Marquetta had let herself get all twisted up by a man once. She’d also seen firsthand what happened to a woman when that man decided he’d had enough and walked away, leaving behind a broken and lost little girl. She’d been so in love with Sheldon that she hadn’t seen it coming when he’d p
ulled the rug out from under her.
Now, here she was, a talented, independent woman, and she was dragging along like some stray puppy, and all because of Jensen Kershaw. “Enough already, jeez,” she mumbled. She closed her eyes and forced the man out of her mind. Minutes felt like hours. When the phone rang, she nearly jumped.
Marquetta looked at the clock. Midnight. Could it be? Her spirits rose immediately. It rang a second time, and she fairly pounced on it. “Hello?”
“Hi, beautiful. Did I wake you?”
The deep baritone on the other end had her heart tripping with excitement. Well, hell, the man had the most incredible effect on her.
Chapter Five
“Marquetta?” he asked. “You still there?”
“I’m here,” she said a little unsteadily.
“Is it too late to call?” His rough voice sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs.
Hell no, she wanted to shout. “No, I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Are you in bed?” She heard him clear his throat. “I won’t lie, I’m seriously digging the image of you in bed. All sleepy-eyed and sexy.”
“Yes, Jensen, I’m in bed.” Marquetta couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Is that all you think about?”
“Where you’re concerned, pretty much.” A beat of silence filled the line, then he asked, “Does it embarrass you that I want you so much?”
“A little,” Marquetta admitted. “I’m not used to anyone being so…fervent.”
“Nice word choice,” he said around a yawn. “I would’ve gone with crazed, enthusiastic, eager.”
Marquetta adjusted her pillow to get more comfortable. “Are you in bed?”
“Yep, all snuggled in. What are you wearing?”
“Really? You’re going with that line?” Again, she found herself laughing. He was simply too outrageous.
“I love it when you laugh, but be careful,” he warned, “I could drive over there and see for myself.”