Kinky Curves (Kinky Chronicles Book 5)

by Jodi Redford

  Dinner arrived and they momentarily set aside conversation to dig into their steaks. She dunked a chunk of the perfectly seared meat into the au jus and dabbed it with a small dollop of horseradish. The tender morsel practically melted in her mouth. “Oh my God. It’s like butter.” She finished chewing and carefully blotted her lips with her napkin. Grady’s fork remained halfway to his mouth, his fascinated gaze glued to her. Self-conscious, she dropped the linen to her lap.

  “You are sexy as fuck when you eat.”

  Her face burning, she lowered her focus to her plate. “I thought you were going to say something else.”

  “Like what?”

  Phantom taunts and sneering comments tumbled through her mind. You gross fatty. How about you stop stuffing your face? Maybe then you could actually get a man instead of stealing one.

  She dug her nails into her palm until the sting dulled the edge of the other pain. No. She wouldn’t let them get to her. Not now.

  “Charlie?”

  Tearing her thoughts from the past, she gave Grady her full attention. “I don’t know. Just something else.”

  He eyed her for an endless moment. “One way or another, I’m going to convince you that everything I’m saying is true. That you’re beautiful and sexy and deserving of every compliment you get.”

  She picked at her baked potato, at a loss for how to respond. It wasn’t a case of not believing him. God knows she wanted to. With every fiber of her being. The idea of a man like Grady perceiving her as sexy and beautiful, no ulterior motives or closet fetishes shaping his attraction to her? It was difficult to wrap her head around it. Or loosen the stubborn tether of her doubts. “I just want you to understand that all of this is incredibly surreal to me. You and me actually sitting here, talking face-to-face—I don’t quite know how to process all of it.”

  “Understandable.” He carved a bite-sized chunk from his steak, his gorgeous features set in deep concentration. “I’ll admit I’m a little rusty on the whole interacting with a woman in person thing, too. If I say or do something weird or awkward, I’m gonna blame it on that. Fair warning, it’s all but guaranteed I’ll be entirely inappropriate at some point tonight.”

  “You mean I have more to look forward to than the Big Bob reincarnation?”

  “Shit, that was only the tip of the iceberg.”

  She took a nibble of her potato. Despite leaning over her plate, she still managed to drop a sizable nugget of the spud between her boobs. Always the freakin’ way. Darn things were a built-in magnet for food mishaps. She discreetly flicked the starchy offender out of her cleavage.

  “I could have helped you with that.”

  Of course, he would have to notice. “You’re too kind to offer.”

  “I feel it’s my civic duty.”

  She twitched her nose. “To cop a cheap feel of my boobs?”

  “Every second I can.”

  His earnestness prodded her chuckle. “And you say you’re rusty at this. In what warped universe? Certainly not the one I’m living in.”

  He gave a negligent shrug. “It’s easy with you. Always has been.”

  “Yeah, I get that. In theory. But I do find it hard to believe you’re tongue-tied with women. You’re around them all the time with your job.”

  He scratched his jaw, his expression vaguely sheepish. “Here’s the thing—there’s usually not that much talking going on with them.”

  “Sure, I understand you’re probably not having meaningful discussions about reincarnated dildos and Thundercats while you’re dancing. Completely sad, that.” Tossing him a wink, she wadded her napkin and blotted the remains of the potato, careful not to make a mess of her dress’s bodice. “You must chat with them now and then off the clock, though.”

  “To be honest, not much talking going on then either.”

  It took a moment to catch his meaning. “Oh. Huh. That’s...really surprising.”

  “It is? Why?”

  “McHorny, you’re just about the biggest dirty talker I know. It’s rather cruel of you to deprive those ladies of your wicked tongue,” she teased.

  “You’d be surprised how many of them aren’t interested in that. They only want to be fucked by a stripper.” He winced. “Damn, I shouldn’t have said that. Now you’re gonna think I’m a pig or something.”

  “Not at all. Neither one of us are virgins. I’m the last person to judge you.”

  He fiddled with the edge of his plate, obviously building up to something. Butterflies began a boxing match in her tummy over the possibility of what it might be.

  Had he slept with a million women? Or maybe he used to be a woman. No, not likely with that one. Unless he had one hell of a surgeon—

  “I haven’t had sex in six months. Maybe longer.”

  Absolutely certain she’d misheard him, she shook her head. “Come again?”

  “Can’t. I’m not even coming once. Unless it’s with you.”

  She wouldn’t be put off that easily with his wisecracking. “Now you want me to believe you’re only having phone sex. With me. You’re stretching my suspension of disbelief, McHorny.”

  “I’m not lying. I have no reason to.”

  “But you’re so sexual. I can’t imagine you abstaining for that long.”

  “Okay.” He leaned his shoulders against the cushioned seatback behind him and steepled his fingers over his chest. “When’s the last time you’ve had a cock inside you? A real one.”

  Oh, man. If anyone was eavesdropping on their conversation, they were getting an earful. Too chicken to risk a peek in Ms. Pinch Face’s direction, she pretended a sudden interest in the cutlery. “It’s been a while.”

  “How long?”

  “A tad more than you.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  God, not really. “More than a year.” Multiply that by another twelve months, or thereabouts.

  “You’re just as sexual as me, Charlie. Wanna explain your abstinence?”

  She held up her hands. “Point taken. We can change the subject now.”

  “I dunno. I’m kinda enjoying this one.” His gaze held far too much wickedness. It was a damn miracle her panties didn’t catch on fire. “I think you need a real cock, Charlie. I think you need mine.”

  His words sent a decadent thrill through her and she shivered. The troubling part? She couldn’t say he was wrong. It’d be an epic lie.

  The waitress passed their table and Charlie flagged her over. “Can I get a carryout box, please?”

  Grady’s scrutiny remained pinned to Charlie while their waitress scurried off. “Should I get my hopes up that you’re extra eager to get back to your place so you can violate me in a thousand different ways that may or may not be illegal in Utah?”

  “Um, that wasn’t why I asked for the box. I just have some serious lunch plans for the rest of my steak tomorrow.”

  “Damn.”

  He looked so over-the-top dejected, she couldn’t help but snort in response. “I’ll give you this much, you’re an absolute gift for my ego.”

  “Hell, you don’t know the half of it. This is me behaving.”

  Their server reappeared with the box and their check. Grady slipped several twenties into the leather receipt holder and pushed it out of reach when Charlie attempted to add her contribution to the pot. She pinned him with her best stink eye. “What happened to you letting me get the tip?”

  “If you’ll recall, I said we’ll see. You can get it next time.”

  “Ah. That’s some crafty maneuvering there, McHorny. This way I have to agree to another dinner. Well played.” She speared the unfinished portion of the prime rib with her fork and plopped it into the box.

  Looking immensely pleased with himself, he stood and waited patiently while she wrestled to get her purse strap situated. He followed her to the exit, the heat of his palm resting on the small of her back both comfortingly protective and distracting as hell. Its mere presence spurred mental snapshots of his hands elsewhere.
Massaging her breasts. Cupping between her legs. Bold fingers stroking her pussy before pushing inside her.

  Consumed with that naughty imagery, she nearly walked straight into the glass door. Grady quickly opened it, saving her from an embarrassing face-plant. Shaking off her sexy daydreaming, she stepped outside. The parking lot had filled considerably in the last hour. She risked a peek up at Grady. “Looks like we came at a good time.” Heat immediately invaded her face as the word came echoed in her mind. Good grief. Did her brain have to twist everything into a dirty meaning? Where Grady was concerned, apparently so.

  “It’s a nice night. We should take a walk downtown.”

  “Excellent suggestion.” It’d help burn off the bazillion calories she consumed and give her more time with him. Hopefully, she’d even manage not to trip over her own feet or something equally mortifying.

  After stowing her carryout in his truck, they headed toward the main strip. A group of teenagers loitered outside the ice cream shop. Grabbing her hand, Grady bee-lined in their direction. Ignoring the ridiculous giddy happiness of them holding hands, she shot him a disbelieving stare. “We just ate.”

  “And now we’re having dessert,” he countered reasonably as he dragged her inside the sweet shop. They joined the queue of people placing their orders.

  She sent a covert glance toward his waist. “I have no damn idea where you put it.”

  “What?”

  “Food. Because it’s sure as hell not spending a speck of time hanging around your six-pack,” she grumbled. Leaning forward, she inspected the labels on the ice cream bins. “Ooh, they have Rum Raisin. Sold.”

  “I knew you were going to pick that one.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, you’re going with...” She scanned the candidates and smiled as her attention fell on the last tub in the upper left corner of the case. “Coconut.”

  “Because I’m nutty?”

  “Exactly.”

  A few minutes later they ventured back outside with their treats. Grady eyed the plastic cup containing her serving and grunted. “Eating it that way is cheating.”

  “McHorny, something tells me that licking a cone in front of you would be a bad idea.”

  His lascivious chuckle confirmed her suspicion. They strolled along slowly, occasionally stopping to check out the lit window display of a store. Just to torture herself, she snuck a peek or two of him devouring his ice cream while she was at it. Apparently licking a cone in front of her wasn’t such a great idea either. Good Lord, he had an agile tongue.

  “Want some?”

  She blinked at him. “W-what?”

  He held his ice cream toward her. The devilry in his gaze dispelled any notion that he wasn’t completely aware of where her mind had been.

  “Thanks, but I’m still working on mine.”

  “Suit yourself.” He stalled in front of a shop window and gave a low whistle. “Speaking of suits, you’d look fucking incredible in that.”

  She scooted next to him and followed his focus to the itsy-bitsy, rainbow-patterned bikini swimsuit barely covering the store mannequin. If her jaw dropped any lower, it’d bounce off her breasts. “I couldn’t fit one boob in that.”

  “Sure you could.”

  “Uh, when’s the last time you’ve had your eyes checked? I’m telling ya, that fabric Band-Aid won’t cover these.” Without thinking, she grabbed her breasts and jiggled them.

  Grady’s cone slipped from his fingers and landed with a splat on the sidewalk. She released her boobs. “That’s what you get for talking nonsense, crazy man.”

  “Please don’t stop fondling yourself on my account.”

  Rolling her eyes, she stuck her spoon in her mouth while Grady picked up the remains of his ice cream and pitched it in the nearby trash receptacle. Feeling slightly responsible for being the cause of the cone’s early demise, she offered him the rest of her dessert. “We can stop and get you another spoon.”

  “Nah. I’d rather weird you out by licking yours lewdly.” He swirled her spoon in the frosty treat and demonstrated his technique with an enthusiasm that left her more than a little hot and bothered.

  A tingle coursed through her clit and she pressed her legs together as she smothered a whimper. “I think I’ve had enough walking for the night.”

  By the time they returned to the truck he’d polished off her ice cream. Seriously, where did he put it? He deposited the empty carton in the rear of the cab and assisted her inside. Less than a minute later they were on their way.

  Her end of date jitters started up roughly two seconds before they pulled into her subdivision. Only this wasn’t technically a date, right? Sharing a meal and her grabbing her own damn boobs didn’t qualify it as such. So did that mean he wouldn’t try to kiss her?

  This was McHorny. Of course he’d try to kiss her. He wasn’t one to play by the rules. The question was, did she want him to?

  His earlier provocation whispered like an enticing siren. “I think you need a real cock, Charlie. I think you need mine.”

  Her pussy clenched, seconding that motion.

  She’d never in her life slept with a man on the first date. And she’d definitely never slept with a man on the first not-a-date date. Could she get up the nerve to make an exception for Grady?

  He parked in her drive and left the engine running. Okay, clearly he didn’t expect to be invited in for a nightcap. Uncertainty brewed in her tummy and she glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard. “Well, I had a really lovely time tonight.”

  “You’re forgetting something.”

  She jerked her gaze back to him. “I am?” Ask him in, you idiot.

  “You still haven’t proven to me you’re wearing pink.”

  Oh jeez. She had completely forgotten about that. Her mouth dry, she plucked at the hem of her skirt. He’d given her the perfect opening. She could tease him with a little peep show and see where it led. No harm in it whatsoever.

  So why was she sitting there, doing her best impression of a stone statue? Frustration welling in every crevice of her being, she blinked back tears. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I clam up like this.” Not true. She did know. But she couldn’t talk about it. Not even to Grady.

  Compassion replacing the heat in his gaze, he leaned across the console and stroked her cheek. “Shh, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart.”

  “No, I do. I don’t want to be this way. Especially not with you. I want the same openness we had earlier. That we share every night on the phone. That Charlie would have no problem showing you her panties, and a hell of a lot more.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his fingertips tracing the curve of her jaw. She waited for him to say something, to offer more of his patient understanding—which would only make her infinitely more frustrated with herself. Instead, he dropped his arm and dug into his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in what she assumed was his access code.

  Was he seriously making a call while she was in the middle of losing her damn mind? Not that she necessarily blamed him. As far as the end of not-technically-a-date nights went, this one sucked mega balls. He probably wanted to salvage what was left of the evening by hooking up with a girl, breaking his six-month celibacy.

  That’s a terrible thing to think. Even so, it didn’t lessen the likelihood of it being true. Again, she wouldn’t blame him in the least. Glumness settling over her, she unsnapped her seatbelt the exact moment her cell phone buzzed inside the holster attached to her purse. She froze, her gaze darting to Grady.

  He looked her square in the eye. “Pick it up.”

  Confusion spinning in her brain, she unclipped the holster and hit the Talk button. “Hello?” She felt like a moron for the uncertainty in her voice. Not like she didn’t know who was on the other end of the line, for Pete’s sake.

  “This is you and me, Charlie. Like any other night. Don’t overthink it.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Jus
t talk to me. Pretend you’re in your bed right now. That you can’t even see me.”

  Right. Good luck with that. She was acutely aware of every damn thing about him at the moment. How gorgeous he was. The sculpted muscles straining at his shirt. The faint hint of shadow on his jaw that would probably be a full-on stubble come morning. If she’d invited him maybe she’d have the answer for herself when she woke up next to him. Maybe she’d even know what those bristles would feel like against her inner thighs. She could know all of those things...if she wasn’t a complete emotional mess.

  “Close your eyes if it helps.”

  Although she knew it wouldn’t, she followed his advice. She eased her spine into the seat’s lumbar support and released a breath. Okay, if nothing else, it was a little relaxing. Her body wasn’t quite as tense.

  “I was thinking about your pussy while I was eating my cone.”

  She nearly dropped the phone. “Jesus, McHorny. Give me a chance to acclimate.”

  His chuckle drifted to her ear. “Are you ready now? Because I really want to tell you how hot it was, lapping up that cream and imagining it was you melting on my tongue.”

  Every ounce of moisture abandoned her mouth. Apparently, it decided to head south instead if the sudden slickness between her legs was any indication. She swallowed, her pulse drumming a familiar tune. One that spoke of sinful, sexy desires. The kind that Phone Sex Charlie basked in, glutted herself on. “I have a confession to make. I was thinking about it too.”

  “I suspected as much. Did you want me to push you up against that window, peel your panties down, and bury my mouth in your sweet snatch?”

  “That word—God, it’s so porny!”

  “And yet it’s not stopping you from squirming in your seat, is it?”

  Damn it, he was right. How had she gone from being completely inhibited to practically humping his leather upholstery?

  The phone.

  Son of a gun. He’d been right about that too. It was her link to the other Charlie. Or maybe more like a pacifier. That was kind of...pathetic as hell. But whatever it took. She was more than willing to go with the flow if the end result was a way for her to crack through this mental block with him.