She lifted a finger. “I’m way ahead of you. Just a minute.” She went to the back room and returned a minute later with two coffee mugs and a bottle of champagne.
“Champagne in a coffee mug? No, no, no. That’s gonna mess with the flavor.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ve got wineglasses at my place.”
He followed her through Book It and out the back door, holding the champagne while she locked up. He tried not to think too much about being alone with Rachel in her apartment. He’d been there plenty of times before. He was already rock hard in anticipation. This was it. All their work paid off. And now it was time to play. They’d agreed. One of them was making a move. He was done waiting.
They went inside, and she reached up to pull two wineglasses from the kitchen cabinet. He forced himself to keep his hands to himself even as her T-shirt rode up, revealing the arch of her lower back. He wanted to taste her right there and a lot of other places too.
She turned and met his eyes, sucking in a breath, no doubt at the raw hunger she saw there. He couldn’t hide it anymore.
She handed him the champagne. “Could you pop the cork? I always seem to make a mess of it.”
“I’d love to,” he said gruffly.
She sighed and, seeming to catch herself at it, shook her head, and laughed. “Get on with it!”
He opened the champagne, and the cork went flying into the living room with a loud pop.
“Mazel tov!” Rachel exclaimed.
“Mazel tov,” he said with a smile, loving seeing Rachel excited and happy again. The summer had started out rough for her, but now things were good.
“I’ll save the cork,” she said, running into the living room to fetch it.
He carried everything into the living room, poured two glasses, and set the bottle on the coffee table next to the cork. They sat on the sofa.
Rachel clinked her glass to his. “To success!”
He smiled. “To success.”
They drank.
Rachel smiled at him brilliantly. He hadn’t seen her in this good a mood in a very long time.
She clinked her glass to his again. “To good coffee!”
He toasted her again, and they drank. He paced himself, only taking a sip, wanting to be completely in the moment when the moment came.
“To books!” she toasted and drained her glass.
“To books.” He toasted again and took a sip. He held up her empty glass. “Slow down there, partner, or you’re cut off.”
She pursed her lips. “You wouldn’t! We’re celebrating.”
“Exactly, I want you to remember every moment of our celebration.” He refilled her glass and handed it to her. She made a face at him. He lifted his glass in a toast. “To good food. And sip this time!”
They clinked glasses and drank. He sipped and watched her over the rim of his glass. She took another long swallow in complete defiance of his warning. He took her glass and held it out of her reach, saw the moment she turned for his, and took that one too. He stood before she could grab his arm.
He held the glasses over her head. “You’re gonna end up with this all over you if you fight me for it.”
“Shane! I’m fine. I’m just a little tipsy. This isn’t easy for me, you know.”
He lowered the glasses. “What’s not easy for you?”
She gestured up and down his body. “You know.”
Relief coupled with triumph surged through him. She was just nervous, and he knew talking would calm her down. He set the glasses down on the end table out of her reach, then turned and took her hand, pulling her back to the sofa with him. He rubbed his thumb slowly back and forth over her palm. “Tell me about your day.”
She stared at his hand holding hers and finally met his eyes. He waited. She began to talk, slowly relaxing and falling into the easy conversation they’d always shared as she told him about all the parents who’d come in first for morning coffee, then a second time in the afternoon for iced coffee and pastries. The crazy time she’d had keeping up with orders with Tanya. How Liz had sold so many picture books she knew were worthwhile children’s literature from her experience as an elementary school teacher.
He gave her back the champagne, and she sipped. He did too as he told her about the street fair and the craziness that had ensued when Barry had joined the tricycle race and nearly run over the tent where they’d set up a kiddie pool to fish for plastic fish. They laughed.
His eyes locked on hers, and he raised his glass for another toast. “To friends.”
“To friends,” she said in a voice charged with so much more. He met her chocolate brown eyes, and he knew. Just knew.
She took a long drink, and this time he let her, knowing it was for courage. He set his drink down.
“To lovers,” she said softly, setting her glass down.
He wanted to pull her into his arms right then, but he had to be sure it wasn’t just the champagne talking. He wanted her to remember their first time. “Rach, are you drunk?”
She looped her hands around his neck and spoke so closely her lips brushed against his. “I’m only a little tipsy,” she said, smiling against his mouth.
“Me too.” He cradled her face with both hands and kissed her then, softly, gently. But that didn’t last long because she threw herself on top of him, knocking him off balance. He fell back on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her. She stretched out on top of him, all of her soft curves hitting him in all the right places.
“Hello, lover,” she said before kissing him hard.
Years of pent-up longing unfurled within him, and he quickly took over the kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting champagne and a hint of espresso. He pulled the band from her hair, letting her braid free and running his fingers through the soft waves. They kissed for a long time, and Shane fought to keep things slow. With one hand on the back of her head, keeping her mouth fused to his, his other hand slipped under her T-shirt, freeing her bra.
She sat up and pulled off her shirt and the bra. She was so beautiful. Her breasts were even better than he’d imagined, full and lush. Her nipples perked up, and he had to taste. He leaned forward, suckling the pebbled peak of one breast. She moaned and arched her back, offering herself fully to him. He took his time, kissing, sucking, tasting. Luxuriating in the taste of her, a sweet honey lavender that made him greedy for more. He gave the same attention to the other breast and returned to her luscious lips. She was pulling at his shirt. He took the shirt off and pulled her close, the sensation of her soft skin on his was electric. She tugged at his shorts, trying to get them off.
He stood and pulled her up with him. Without a word, he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Chapter Eighteen
Rachel giggled as Shane carried her into the bedroom, giddy from the champagne and their smashing success with the café and this whole princess routine. He laid her gently on the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes.
“We’re wearing too many clothes,” she said. She stripped down, flinging her shorts and panties to the side.
“God, Rach, I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.”
Then he proceeded to do just that, nibbling, sucking, and tasting his way down her body, drawing soft moans from her as he made his way down, stopping to linger at a few places, the hollow of her throat, her breasts, he lingered a long time there, to her navel, dipping in to taste, then further down, just skimming past where she was already hot and wet and ready for him, to her inner thigh, down her legs, all the way to her toes.
Her hips rocked restlessly. “Shane, please, I—”
He flipped her over unexpectedly, and her breath left her in a whoosh.
“Shane?” she asked unsteadily.
“Every inch,” he said, kissing and tasting his way up her ankles, her calves, the oh-so-sensitive backs of her knees. Who knew knees were sensitive? He k
ept going, placing a kiss and then a nip on her bottom that had her jolting. He soothed the spot with his hand, worked up the small of her back, lingering in the dip there, then up her spine. Her body tingled all over by the time he moved her hair to the side and nuzzled the back of her neck.
He rolled her over and smoothed her hair back from her face. “You taste delicious.”
Her entire body was overheated and in need of the relief only he could give her. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”
He stood and stripped off his shorts and briefs, and she took a moment to stare. She’d wanted to know what he looked like after feeling his size, and holy mother of amazeballs, she was speechless.
“We okay?” he asked.
She dragged her gaze back to his face. He was the picture of male cockiness. Ha! she thought deliriously. Cockiness.
She nodded slowly and couldn’t help but take a second look. She swallowed. “Very okay.”
He lowered himself over her and kissed her again. “I’ll be gentle,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. They kissed until she truly did relax and became restless, needing him, wanting him inside her. She ran her hands up and down his back, urging him closer. He broke the kiss only to nuzzle the side of her neck again.
“Shane, please,” she begged.
“I’m not done tasting,” he told her, lowering himself down her body. He stopped at her breasts, teasing and suckling as she arched up, her hands tangling in his hair. When he’d taken his fill, he worked his way down her body with hot, open-mouthed kisses that had her quivering until his lips closed over her center. Her hips vaulted off the mattress. He took advantage of that, sliding his hands under her bottom. He gentled her with soft kisses until she relaxed again.
He lifted his head. “You taste like honey, and I want every last drop.”
She shuddered, and he proceeded to claim her with his mouth. He drove her crazy—sucking hard and alternating with a gentle mouthing.
“Please, please,” she murmured. So close, she was so close.
He switched to the softest, gentlest tasting, and her body tightened with need, like a violin strung too tight. She fisted her hands in his hair, begging him silently to give her that release. He suckled her hard nub, and she broke in a sudden rush. He lapped at her, extracting every ounce of pleasure he could. Every last drop.
He rose up over her. His hand cupped her sex, and she cried out, still screamingly sensitive.
“Condom?” he asked.
“Medicine cabinet,” she croaked.
He released her, and she sank into the mattress, feeling lost in a hazy, sensuous cloud. Then he was back, his body heating hers, and she wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her, thrusting his tongue in her mouth as he slowly pushed into her body. She arched, working to accommodate his size, wrapping her legs around him. He reached under her, angling her just right and sliding home. She’d never been filled so much in her life. He didn’t move for a moment, and she felt him throb within her.
His lips brushed hers. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“I know.”
He gazed into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”
She blinked. No one had ever called her beautiful. Pretty, cute, maybe, but never beautiful. “Thank you.”
Then he was kissing her, so gently, so tenderly, she found herself unexpectedly choked with emotion. It was too much. She bit his bottom lip, and he surged within her. They found their rhythm and moved together urgently, their bodies long craving this union. She closed her eyes as she felt the sweet tension building again. His lips pressed to the side of her neck as he thrust harder and faster, and Rachel cried out as her body convulsed with her climax. She heard him rumble something that sounded like praise; then he grabbed her hips and drove into her, seeking his own release. He suddenly arched, letting out a guttural groan, and another orgasm shockingly ripped through her. She’d never been multiorgasmic.
Holy Shane.
~ ~ ~
She woke the next morning on her stomach, naked. She rolled to her back, feeling lazy and relaxed. It was by far the best sex she’d ever had. She could hear Shane banging around in the kitchen. I slept with Shane. An uneasy feeling washed over her, nearly spoiling what should’ve been a very happy morning after. Now what? Shane was still her partner, friend, and now lover? The beginnings of panic invaded her brain. How many roles could he play before completely taking over her life?
She freshened up in the bathroom, tied a light cotton robe on, and slowly walked into the kitchen. She had to face him sooner or later.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Shane said. He was barefoot in his Shane’s Scoops T-shirt and basketball shorts from yesterday. He looked right at home in her kitchen. “Thought I’d let you sleep in a bit.” He poured an egg mixture into a frying pan. “I’m making omelets.”
She squinted at him, trying to reconcile the man she knew as friend with her lover from last night. Feeling raw and uncomfortable, she mumbled, “Thanks.”
“I found an extra toothbrush in your bathroom. Hope that was okay. Coffee’s ready. Unless you want to brew a cup downstairs.” He meant at the café.
“This is fine.” She sat at the table with her coffee. Her past history with men told her one thing for sure, she was great at letting them take over, not seeing red flags until well past the time when she should’ve gotten out. She couldn’t let that happen with Shane. She had to stay true to herself.
A short while later, Shane set an omelet in front of her and sat at the table with his.
She stared at it. “I don’t like omelets.”
“Oh.” He gave her a strange look. “Why didn’t you say so when I started cooking? I could’ve made you something else.”
“I don’t know.” She stood and grabbed her usual granola bar. She held it up. “I like cardboard for breakfast.”
He snorted. “Suit yourself.”
They ate in silence, Rachel lost in her panicky thoughts. Her entire life was tied up with Shane’s. This had been a mistake. Too much champagne, too much celebrating.
“Shane, I…”
He set his fork down and held her hand warmly in his. “Yes?”
“Last night was…” She groped for the right words. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Maybe we had too much champagne.”
“You said you were only tipsy.”
“I was.”
“Do you remember it? Do you remember how I touched you?” His hand slipped to the back of her head, tugging her closer. She wanted to pull away, but some part of her wanted the reminder. He nipped her bottom lip, then kissed her gently. His lips barely grazed her bottom lip, another gentle graze over her top lip, and her mouth parted on a sigh. His mouth closed over hers in a slow, deep kiss, and she forgot all her qualms and surrendered to the sensation.
He pulled back, and she blinked.
He smiled. “You do remember.”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Last night was special.”
She shifted away from him.
He hooked a finger under her chin and turned her back. “Don’t tell me you want to pretend that never happened.”
She wished she could. She didn’t think she could ever forget it. She twisted her granola bar wrapper. Everything was ruined. Every time she saw him she would be thinking of their night together. She wished they could always be friends. This would end like all of her relationships with a spectacular blowup, probably because of something she couldn’t stop harping on, something she had to fix. All the guys had some one thing that she just knew if she could fix it, they’d be better off. She felt slightly nauseous. Shane didn’t need to be fixed, and she had no idea what to do with him. She was in over her head, and she knew it.
At her silence, his jaw tightened. “Dammit, Rachel, do not tell me you want to pretend we’re still just friends. Not after last night.”
“I wish…” She stopped her
self. She knew they couldn’t go back, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go forward. Damn, this was awkward. “I need to take a shower and get to work. You can finish your omelet and, um, let yourself out. I’m sure you have to get to work too.”
She felt his eyes on her as she rose from the table and left the room. She let out a breath of relief as she turned on the water for the shower and waited for it to warm up. She’d been afraid he would follow her and demand they talk this out. She didn’t have the words to express the turmoil she was feeling. She remembered Kerri, Shane’s girlfriend in high school, said they could never have a good fight. Shane always wanted to talk the thing to death. Rachel didn’t want to hash this thing out. She felt raw and vulnerable and exceedingly foolish to boot. The one thing she said she wouldn’t do, screw up their friendship, mess with their business relationship, accomplished in one fell swoop thanks to a celebratory night with champagne.
She grabbed a towel and washcloth from the small linen closet, tested the water, and dropped the robe. She stepped into the hot water and felt her whole body relax. Hopefully Shane would be gone by the time she got out. She lathered shampoo into her hair. Liz was going back to work today, so Rachel was needed at Book It, and she should probably peek in at—
“Ahhh!!!!” She let out a blood-curdling scream as the shower curtain was ripped aside. Shane’s hand covered her mouth as he stepped into the shower naked with her.
Without her glasses, she could only see things that were very close, and Shane was very, very close. He looked serious, a man on a mission, and her heart galloped madly from the shock of his sudden appearance and from what she knew he could do to her with one touch. He said nothing, merely dropped his hand from her mouth and took over for her with the shampoo. His fingers felt wonderful as they massaged her scalp and stroked down her long hair. He finished the shampoo and tipped her head back for the rinse. Then he grabbed the washcloth and soaped it up.
“Shane, no,” she said, her voice not entirely steady. “I can do that.”
“This is what friends do,” he said silkily. “They help each other.”
“Not in the…” Her voice trailed off as he bathed her gently, down her neck, across her shoulders, paying special attention to her breasts, circling around them, spiraling in slowly. Her nipples tightened, and she moaned as the cloth rubbed back and forth across them. She gripped his shoulders, wanting him closer. Instead the washcloth trailed down, soaping her stomach, making a sharp turn to her hips. He knelt down to wash her legs, taking a trip back up her inner thigh. She braced herself for the rough cloth on her sensitive center; instead he was gentle, achingly gentle, then he dropped the cloth and replaced it with his mouth.
Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) Page 18