Better to Eat You

by Savannah Skye

  “Hi there, handsome. Why the frown?”

  He turned to see a petite blonde with gravity-defying double D’s sliding into the chair next to him. She had an open, friendly face, and he found himself answering honestly.

  “Woman trouble.”

  She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Sorry about that. We suck sometimes.

  Want to talk about it?”

  He didn’t, not really, so he settled for a generalization. “I made a critical error by falling for someone out of my league.”

  She let out a squeak of laughter then eyed him up and down. “As if. I don’t mean to be forward, but that would have to be some woman.”

  “Thanks. And she is. But I mean more in the uptown-girl sense. Her parents…” He trailed off and took another sip of warming, flat beer.

  “If she cares about that kind of stuff, then she’s not as special as you think she is. It’s her loss.” She shrugged. “My name’s Bethany.” She stuck out a hand, and he shook it.

  “Jesse.”

  “Well, Jesse, are you going to sit here and sulk, or do you want to go have some fun?”

  He met her frank gaze and something inside him shifted, the sadness hardening into bitterness. Maybe she was right. Maybe Mike wasn’t all that special. He’d all but told her he was crazy about her the night he’d driven her home from the club, and still she’d only wanted him for a fling. And this girl was pretty, nice, seemed to have a good sense of humor. He’d be a fool to pass her by.

  “You know what? I think I do. I’m starved, and I already ate here once today. You want to get out of here, get a bite to eat, maybe come back and see my cottage?”

  “Totally.” She bobbed her golden head up and down enthusiastically. “We can go to Skippers. You like seafood?”

  “Love it!”

  So did Mike. It was her favorite. She always got the lobster, and he’d crack it for her while she watched with shining eyes. Then she’d spend about an hour sucking the meat out of the little claws, her full lips all buttery.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. What the hell was he doing? Bethany was perfect, but she wasn’t Mike, and leading her on was wrong. He might be a real shit sometimes, but the girl seemed nice, and it wasn’t fair to spend time with her if he couldn’t give her even half his attention. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I just got a really bad headache. Can I take a rain check?”

  Her smile dimmed to partly cloudy, but she nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  His feet were already in motion as he called over his shoulder, “Thanks.”

  He was halfway to the door before he realized with a guilty wince that there would be no rain check.

  He hadn’t even bothered to ask for her number…

  Chapter Twelve

  It had taken her all day, but she was finally done. Micah blew her nose into the soggy wad of tissues with a loud honk. No point in trying to be dainty. She was destined to be a lonely old cat lady anyway, so she might as well just be herself. The cats wouldn’t care.

  She looked one last time around the living room that had been her nest for the past few months. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she squared her shoulders and turned away. She laid her key on the table then opened the door and came face-to-face with Jesse.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.

  The fear in his eyes was her undoing, and the delicate thread tethering her to this side of utter despair snapped. She dropped her bags and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door and engaging the lock a mere second before dissolving into wrenching sobs.

  “Mike?”

  His voice followed her, and a moment later he called again with his mouth pressed to the crack of the door.

  “Mike, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I’m leaving. And I’m crying because I’m going to miss Martha.”

  “Leaving to go where?”

  “I’m going to stay with Renee for a while until I can get a place.”

  “Renee only has one bedroom. Plus she has a snake, and you’re terrified of snakes.”

  She wiped the tears away, but they were quickly replaced by fresh ones. “I’ll sleep on the pullout. As for the snake, I guess now is as good a time as any to learn to face my fears.” She shuddered in revulsion at the thought. Totally not going to happen, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Why, Mike? I don’t get it. You got exactly what you wanted. You had your one night. Why are you leaving?”

  His words shocked her into silence, so much so that even her tears dried. Was he that much of a buffoon? She unlocked the door and swung it open, ready to tear into him, but froze. Her heart clenched at his appearance. He was soaking wet, his clothes a rumpled mess. The concern and confusion etched on his face was genuine.

  She reached out a trembling hand and stroked his cheek. “I can’t be here. It was bad enough before…but now, knowing what I do, it would be impossible.”

  He jerked back from her, his expression at first stricken, then like ice. “You didn’t seem to be complaining last night. In fact, you seemed to like it. But you’re right, you should go. I wouldn’t want to sully the princess any more than I already have.” He turned and stalked down the hallway.

  Now it was her turn to be confused as she followed on his heels. “What are you talking about?”

  “Forget it.” He was rifling through his overnight bag and didn’t look up. “I’m going out. It would be better if you were gone when I get back.”

  She let out a gasp of pain as his words hit the mark. Leaving was breaking her heart. Listening to him say he wanted her out was excruciating. She pressed on. “Tell me what you meant about sullying the princess. I want to hear it.”

  “Just what I said. I get it. You’re not the first one to regret a one-night stand. I have to admit though, my ego’s a little bruised. I thought I did you right. Now you throw it in my face like you can’t be around me. Did I gross you out? Too raw for you in the light of day, princess?”

  Bewildered, she shook her head. “It was the best night of my life.”

  “You just said knowing what you know now, you can’t live with me. Like I disgusted you.” His voice was killing her. It was raw and broken, like every word was being forced from his lips against his will. He’d stopped pulling clothes from his bag and was watching her with inscrutable, dark eyes.

  She steadied herself, knowing no matter what, he needed to hear the truth. There was no going back from here anyway. “Not like you disgusted me. Like I will never be able to get it out of my head. I will never be able to watch you go out with other women and come home smelling like sex and strange perfume.” Her voice broke but she continued. “I will never be able to walk by your bedroom without remembering us there together.”

  She took a step forward and laid her hand on his chest.

  “If I stay here, I will never stop wanting it to happen again and again. I love you, Jesse. And every day I stay here pretending I don’t—” Her throat burned as she choked back a sob and turned away. She scooped up two of her bags and prayed she made it out the door before the storm broke free and she really lost it. “I’ll come back another day for the rest.”

  “Don’t go.”

  His big, warm hand closed on her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to lean back into him.

  “It’s really for the best. And maybe in a few months we can try to hang out and be friends again.” Her voice rang false, even to her own ears, but she was desperate to escape before she started begging.

  “I don’t ever want to be friends with you again, Mike.”

  The heart she’d thought had taken all it could bear broke a little more. She nodded. “I understand.”

  “No you don’t,” he rasped. “I want to be your man. That’s what I want. Shit, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be your man.”

  Her breath froze in her chest. He turned her to face him, then plucked the bags from her hands, setting them on the floor.

  “I have loved you
from the first minute I saw you. More than the newest issue of Playboy, more than Bobby Dix’s Camaro. When I saw you, I wanted nothing in the world more than to see how you looked on the back of my dirt bike, that copper hair flying with that smile lighting your face. God, I was fucking crazy about you. And it never went away, Mike. I feel the same way now. All I want is to see you smile.”

  Joy warred with confusion as a dozen questions rushed to her lips. “But why did you turn me away? In high school. Why wouldn’t you sleep with me? I wanted my first time to be with you.”

  “You asked me for one night. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with you knowing it would only be that one time. And I couldn’t stand it that I wasn’t good enough to be your boyfriend, but I was good enough to sleep with.”

  Her hands began to shake as his words sank in.

  Had they wasted all this time?

  “Only because it didn’t even occur to me that you would consider anything more. You were busy with every girl in school. I wanted to be with you so much I was willing to take any little bit I could get. God, how could you think you weren’t good enough for me? There is no one better than you, Jesse. No one.”

  “Your parents—”

  “Fuck my parents.” She emphasized her words with a punch to his chest. “They’re stuffy, elitist windbags. I love them, I do, but they’ve got to get with the program or stay out of my life. I want to be an artist.” She slid her arms around his waist and tipped her head so she could look at his face. “And I want you as my man.”

  He pulled her to him, so tight she could hardly breathe. “Say it again,” he whispered.

  “I want you as my man.”

  “Damn it, Mike, I’ve been waiting to hear those words for so long, it feels like a dream.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead then to the tip of her nose, before drawing back to look at her. “So you’re going to stay and live here with me?”

  She leaned back and gave him a watery smile. “If you’ll have me.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “God,” she whispered. “When I think of all the time we wasted…the times I hurt you and didn’t even realize. It kills me.” Her throat grew tight, and she blinked away the threatening tears.

  “Shh, stop, babe. We can’t think that way. This was meant to happen now. It wouldn’t have worked before. I had to feel like I was worthy of you, or I would’ve found a way to fuck it up.” He dragged her close, into the warmth and safety of his arms. “And if I had to trade the last thirteen years to make sure I’d have you for the next fifty? Hell, I’d make that trade every time.”

  She squeezed him hard, needing his strength. It was going to be a while before it truly sank in. Jesse Slade was finally hers to keep, and that was a gift she would never take for granted.

  “Let’s unpack you, okay? Seeing your suitcases by the door makes my stomach hurt.”

  They broke apart, and she stroked his cheek. “Last time you’ll ever see them unless we’re going on a trip.”

  “Deal.” His face brightened, and his dimple flashed. “Hey, which suitcase are the shoes from last night in? Because I have big plans for those.”

  Her pulse raced as she pointed to the bag in question. He had it opened in record time, and less than ten seconds later the stilettos were dangling from his fingertips. He looked up and gave her a sexy grin.

  “We have a lot of time to make up for, babe.”

  “I know, and I can’t wait to start.”

  Keep reading for another STEAMY read from Savannah Skye, The PERFECT Fit!

  Warning: Sweaty, down-and-dirty sex between a mechanic and her best client. Read at your own risk. Dangerous curves lie ahead, and these roads are slippery when wet.

  The Perfect Fit

  The Perfect Fit

  To win her heart, he’ll have to touch off her internal combustion.

  Even after ten long years, Frankie Polaski’s success as the best vintage car mechanic around still hasn’t overcome her teenage rep as a promiscuous troublemaker. No matter how tempting the prospect, the last thing Mac Sanders needs is for her to take him out for a spin. Especially since his family thinks he should be looking for a prospective wife among the local socialites, not slumming with a grease monkey.

  Mac likes vintage rides, but buying a new one every month just to have an excuse to see his ridiculously sexy mechanic in her overalls? That’s pathetic. When she finally says yes to his date offer, he’s not fooled. It’s only because she has every intention of using him to indulge her fantasies—then walking away. But Mac knows something else: underneath her bad-girl persona is a woman worth her weight in lug nuts.

  It might take a crowbar to get her to admit she has feelings for him, but he plans to put the pedal to the metal to convince her to keep him around for more than just a test drive.

  Warning: Sweaty, down-and-dirty sex between a mechanic and her best client. Read at your own risk. Dangerous curves lie ahead, and these roads are slippery when wet.

  Chapter 1

  “Mother calling,” the drone-like voice of Mac’s cellphone announced.

  “Shit.”

  He gripped the wheel tighter, weighing his options. If he didn’t answer now, she’d stalk him all day until he did, and he had a lot on his plate. Might as well get it over with.

  “Pick up,” he growled to the device.

  A moment later his mother’s voice came on the line. “Mackenzie?”

  “Hello, Mother.” He gave a half-smile when he realized he’d been subconsciously mimicking Newman from Seinfeld in his delivery. If she caught on to his less than enthusiastic greeting, she didn’t let on.

  “I’ve found a lovely young lady to attend the Friedman Benefit on Saturday with you,” she said without preamble.

  “I’m well, and yourself?”

  She released a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, have it your way. How are you, my darling son, future creator of grandchildren, fruit of my loins?” she gushed.

  He winced. Men should never have to hear about their mother’s loins. Wasn’t that a rule somewhere? And the talk of grandchildren was nearly as bad. He wasn’t even dating anyone, but that had never stopped her before. It was his fault this time. He should have known better than to bait her when she was clearly on a mission.

  “I’m sure you have all day to waste on pleasantries, what with having a schedule like some sort of gypsy, but I’ve actually got a very busy day ahead of me,” she continued, reverting back to her normal, clipped tone.

  Yeah, because tennis at the club and making sure that the cook had her dinner instructions was far more taxing than building an architectural firm from the ground up.

  “I know this comes as a shock to you, I’m pretty booked today as well. I’m on my way to meet a client. Can I call you tonight?”

  “I only need a minute to confirm that you’ll take Melissa Figbert to the benefit, then you can go to your little meeting.”

  Mild annoyance heated to anger. He usually managed his mother pretty well, but the patronizing jabs about his job were wearing on his nerves. “One, it’s not a ‘little’ meeting. It’s actually a very big meeting that could land me an extremely lucrative contract with a new client. Two, I don’t even know who Melissa Figbert is. And three, what the hell kind of name is Figbert?”

  She must have recognized she was losing him and backpedaled. “Don’t get all up in arms. I didn’t mean anything by that. I’m sure this meeting is very important. To you,” she amended.

  Well played, Mother.

  “As for Melissa,” she continued. “The girl is lovely. Elegant, sweet and very cultured. She went to Vassar and has returned to Rhode Island to start working at her father’s firm. The Figberts are relatively new to the area, but not to the money. She’d be a wonderful match for you. Lovely green eyes, stunning white-blonde hair. The two of you would make gorgeous babies.”

  “I haven’t even met her and you’re making our babies?” He blew out a sigh and resigned himself to the inevitable. His moth
er was on the Friedman board of trustees, and he’d already agreed to go to the fundraiser. And wasn’t like he had a date. How bad could it be? Who knew, maybe they’d hit it off and he’d get laid.

  Plus, the truth of the matter was, sometimes it was easier to sacrifice the battle to save your strength for the war. Nobody knew that better than him. Except maybe his dad.

  “Fine. Tell her I’ll pick her up at six o’clock. Text me her address.”

  “Darling, I don’t text. I’ll call you day of and you can write it down on a piece of paper like a civilized person.”

  “In one point four miles, turn left,” his GPS intoned.

  “I have to go, Mother. Talk to you later.” He tapped his Bluetooth to disconnect without waiting for a reply. That would cost him later, but hanging up on her still him smile. At least he wouldn’t be the only one annoyed by their conversation.

  He glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

  That had to be a record. They’d been on the phone less than a minute and she’d sucked at least twenty percent of the energy from his body. She was like a psychic vampire. How his father had managed to deal with her for the past thirty years, he didn’t know. Worse than the whole life-sucking thing, she also never seemed satisfied. She was forever telling the poor bastard what to do and how to do it. Not that Mac had the right to complain too much. His father had taken the brunt of his mother’s crazy more times than not, shielding Mac from her need to control everything around her.

  “Turn left onto Wawaset Boulevard.”

  He hit his blinker and stopped at the four-way stop sign before proceeding. He rolled forward as he refocused his attention on the upcoming pitch. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said it was a very important meeting and he needed to make sure he brought his A-game.

  Halfway through the turn, a flash of red intruded on his peripheral, cutting his musings short. A Nissan was barreling straight at him, showing no indication of stopping or slowing down. He instinctively stomped on the gas, hoping to complete the turn before impact, but the other car was moving too fast. Even as it careened through the four-way stop sign straight for his passenger door, his fear was tempered by one last, comforting thought.