by Karen Renee
I stopped walking and looked down at her until her eyes met mine. “I bought a rare foreclosure and spent five years fixing it up. The dinner didn’t cost as much as you think it did because I had a gift card.”
She pulled her head back from me. “Really? You fixed up a foreclosure?”
I dipped my chin in a slight nod. “Really. Had my eye on that house for a long damn time, and it pissed me off when it started falling to shit during the recession. I knew it’d be up on the market at some point, I just prayed the owners wouldn’t put any effort into it so I could get it for a steal.”
I guided us toward the parking garage, signaling the conversation was done.
We were on her side of SUV when she said, “Thanks for dinner, Clint. It was fantastic.”
I shifted so her back was to the door. With my hands framing her face, I leaned toward her. “You’re more than welcome, mi reina.”
Her face softened at my words. I kissed her slow and sweet, only pulling away when her hands started moving on my chest with more purpose. Her eyes held a hint of annoyance at the kiss ending, but otherwise she looked dazed yet aroused.
“Time to salsa, Rae.”
Her lips pulled to the side. “We could skip the dancing, honey.”
I grinned. “Get in the truck, babe.”
Ten minutes later, I parked in a small lot while Raegan looked bewildered.
“Where’s the club, Clint? There isn’t even a building that looks like a club.”
I squeezed her bicep.
“There is.” I nodded to the warehouse in front of us.
“It’s a warehouse.”
“It’s been converted. And the cover is steep, but the music is on fire.”
Chapter 14
Nuances of Difference
Raegan
CLINT KNEW WHAT HE was talking about because the music inside the club turned the place into an inferno. His concerns about other men being interested in me here were unfounded, though. From the moment we walked in, I knew this was not a place where men went on the prowl. It seemed all the men had women with them, and very few couples were sitting at the bar, seeing as the dance floor was packed.
My nerves came alive as I watched the couples. I kept in relatively decent shape, but I hadn’t shimmied like that in years.
At my ear, Clint asked, “What are you drinking? They have a two-drink minimum, but you can opt for soda if you want.”
Nothing killed my anxiety like tequila; that certainly hadn’t changed. “Margarita, rocks. No salt.”
He smirked. “You’re not on a low-sodium diet, Raegan. Your mom is.”
I smiled, but didn’t quite mean it. “I know that. I’m just not feeling the salt tonight.”
Clint put in our order with a passing waitress before he guided me to a small two-seater high-top table. I rested a hip on the barstool and watched the couples. Some were dancing either the samba or a mambo, I could never tell exactly because both dances were so fast paced. Other couples stuck to the cha-cha, but most were dancing the salsa. I focused on two of the better couples so I might remember more than just the basic steps.
By the time I finished my drink, Clint stood. “If you think I’m gonna let you have your second drink, think again. Can see you’re nervous as hell, but you’re not going to wimp out on me because you’ve had too much tequila.”
I slid off my stool as Clint made his way in front of me.
He stooped so his lips were next to my ear. “It’s just like riding a bike, mamita. And other things I know you’re still damn good at, so let’s go.”
On the dance floor, Clint’s ability to swivel his hips and lead me around the other couples could not be missed. I could watch him move his hips all day, it was just that damn sexy, but to occasionally feel that swivel as our bodies came together was divine.
My nerves fell to the wayside. When he spun me out and yanked me back, only to follow it up with an under-arm twirl, I understood his insistence I only have one margarita. Salsa dancing with him meant I spent half my time turning in circles. Yes, me plus two drinks plus fast-paced spinning would equal certain disaster.
After dancing to four songs straight, Clint guided us back to the bar area. Our waitress was on it, because no sooner had I planted my tush on the stool than she set a glass in front of me.
I smiled at her and was going to say thank you, but she had her head ducked, and scurried away from our table.
Clint had his hand wrapped around his long-neck beer, but he watched the waitress retreat. Then he looked around the club. Whether it was his behavior or the server’s, I wasn’t sure, but a strange feeling skittered down my back.
I picked up the drink, but Clint’s other hand covered mine. “No,” he said, though it was hard to hear him over the music.
While he focused on the dance floor, I turned my head in the opposite direction. A man wearing slouchy jeans and a t-shirt hustled toward the door. He caught my attention because most of the patrons were dressed for the club. Few people, if any, wore jeans, and I had to wonder how he got in.
I turned to Clint when he called my name, loud enough to be heard over the music. “What?”
He squinted. “What were you looking at?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. There was a man who wasn’t dressed for the club, but he left. What’s wrong, Clint? Do you not trust our waitress?”
The look he gave me said he didn’t, and he wanted to give her a piece of his mind. He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Don’t want to say this, but we need to get the hell out of here. I got a bad feeling, and I don’t ignore those.”
“YOU weren’t kidding,” I breathed when Clint parked his SUV in front of a tiny one-car garage.
He scowled at me. “About what?”
I smiled. “You really aren’t far from Mom, and the jackass owners of this place did let it fall into disrepair. I used to pass by here when I would jog, and it made me so mad to see it run down. I’m glad you bought it.”
I thought those words would cheer him up, since the entire drive home he was broody and silent. His closed eyes and deep sigh said otherwise.
“What?” I whispered.
He opened his eyes. “Rae. I don’t know what the fuck happened at the club, but I know we’ve got to get inside.”
I stood at his front door admiring the front porch. Two rocking chairs were angled next to a small round patio table. I could see Clint sitting out here since all the other homes were picturesque and the trees lining the street would make for a lovely view in the evenings. The wooden railing looked to be brand new, but I didn’t have time to look any closer before Clint guided me inside.
He handed me my overnight bag, locked the door, and jerked his head signaling me to follow him. I toed off my high-heel sandals and followed him on bare feet.
His house was deceptive. From the street it appeared to be tiny due to how narrow it appeared, but the house had depth and it surprised me how spacious the living room was. An overhead light came on, and I saw the rich, gleaming mahogany floors.
I turned wide eyes to him, but his narrowed eyes killed my excitement.
“Where are your shoes, Rae?”
Dropping my bag to the floor next to the couch, I looked to the front door and back to him. “I took them off at the door. My feet are killing me.”
His lips formed a cross between pursed lips and a pout. “How bad are they killing you?”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He dipped his chin while his eyes heated. “Always loved you in heels, Raegan.”
I did a slow nod. “Ah. I can go—”
“I’ll get ‘em. You want something to drink? Seeing as I know there won’t be any drugs in a drink I make you?”
I blinked so I wouldn’t roll my eyes. “Do you really think there was something in my drink, Clint?”
My breath wheezed out of me when I saw the look on his face. I should have known better, and deep down, I did know better. Attempting to brighten
the mood in the SUV when we got here had been a massive fail, so I shouldn’t have asked about the drink. Even if it was a valid question to me, Clint had a way of taking questions as an affront on his ability to read a situation.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ do, Raegan. Hate to tell you this, but I’ve been in there twice a month for the past five years. Our waitress is one of the better ones there, and she’s good not just because she’s fast, but also because she makes eye contact. When she left those drinks, she wouldn’t look either of us in the eye. That always raises a red flag for me.”
I put my hands in front of me. “Okay, all right. I didn’t mean to poke the bear, so to speak. It just seemed like—”
He sauntered into my personal space to take my hands and wrap them around his back. His voice lost all the irritation from a moment ago. “I know what it seemed like, honey. Sorry to take my attitude out on you, it’s just that I shouldn’t have taken us dancing. It’s too soon for that when there’s a threat out there.”
While he spoke, one hand slid around to the back of my head while the other moved down and around my shoulders.
“I suppose I should’ve reminded you. But I got a little excited when you mentioned it on the phone,” I whispered.
His eyes traveled from mine down to my lips, reminding me how expressive his eyes could be. He lowered his head and kissed me slow, sweet, and short.
“I caught your excitement earlier too, babe. Now, do you want another margarita, or do you want some Bushmills?”
I blew out a breath because I did love a whiskey before bed, but I knew better than to chase tequila with whiskey.
“If you have the mix, I’ll go with a margarita.”
After a gentle peck, he said, “You got it.”
Spending time with Clint again, many things were the same and yet so many were different by just a hint of nuance. He’d always get me something to drink at night, but it was rare he gave me options. Thinking back on it, we probably didn’t have many options ten years ago. Dancing with him was much the same, but there was that added degree of more experienced dancing, which made sense if he went there as frequently as he said. Sex also fell into this boat. It was damn similar, but better because of the nuances of difference.
I remembered Mom’s insistence he was the best thing that ever happened to me, and like so many other things in life, it was coming clear: she was right.
Clint
THE MARGARITAS I MIXED were stronger than normal because of my guilt. It wasn’t just that I shouldn’t have taken her dancing, it was that I couldn’t leave her alone in order to pursue Pilar, our waitress. Part of me had wanted to go after whoever Raegan saw leaving the club, but I suspected he didn’t matter. The smart move tonight would’ve been to get Brock and Cecilia to join us at the club, but I hadn’t been thinking that far ahead.
Or thinking at all, unless thinking with my cock counted.
Even though Raegan requested ‘no salt’ earlier, I lined our glasses with a generous amount of it. When I handed a glass to her, she did not disappoint me. Her tongue darted to the rim. My cock twitched watching her lick the glass before taking a sip.
I downed a glug of my drink without licking any salt. The burn of the tequila soothed my temper to a degree. As I pulled the glass from my lips, I noticed Rae’s eyes were moving around the living room.
After another swig of my drink, I shook my head. “Sorry, Rae. I should’ve given you the grand tour. Obviously, we’re in the living room, and I noticed how excited you got lookin’ at the floors. I didn’t have them installed. I ripped up the carpeting to find the planks beneath. I sanded them but hired a professional to make sure it all was done right in the end.”
She nodded and started to move toward a couch, but I cut her off with my body.
I tilted my head toward the kitchen. “That’s the kitchen. There’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms, but the only bedroom you need to worry about is the master. And you’re going to get familiar with it...very soon.”
A playful look crossed her face. “What if I want to dance some more?”
I smiled. “We’re gonna dance, mamita. It’s just gonna be in my bed.”
She shook her head. I drained my drink, put my glass on the kitchen counter, and strolled to the front door. With her shoes dangling by a finger, I used my other hand to turn off lights. Then I grabbed her hand to lead her to my bedroom.
With my free hand, I slipped her drink from her hand, put it on the nightstand, and turned on my bedside lamp. She looked around my bedroom with curious eyes and swiveled her head to take everything in, and it hit me how strange it was to see my place through the eyes of Raegan.
Just parking the SUV, I couldn’t miss her excitement at my renovation efforts. When I bit her head off in the truck, I hated myself even more, because if we’d just spent a quiet night here, I’d have been able to enjoy her enthusiasm. Instead, her comments reinforced how I had fucked up since I was focused on reuniting with her rather than protecting her.
Now, watching her take in my bedroom I saw it in a new light. There were no feminine touches in this room. My sisters and Mamá had helped with my living room, but that was it. My dark oak bedroom suite went with the dark mahogany floors and I’d topped it with a maroon comforter and sheet set.
She looked at me with a strange look on her face, but when her hands went behind her back, I moved.
“No way, Raegan. I’m taking that dress off you,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She grinned and put her hands on my shoulders. “I recall you saying you were going to rip it off of me and seeing as I haven’t heard back from Tanya about it, I would rather you not destroy it.”
My eyebrow quirked. “Well, I guess I’ll keep myself in check if it means that much to you.”
“Do I have to keep myself in check? Or do I get to rip your shirt off you?”
I chuckled before parroting her words back to her. “I would rather you not.”
“Fine,” she grinned, but started in on the buttons of my shirt.
After two buttons were opened, I spun her around by her hips, catching her off guard, making her squeak, and I unzipped her dress, smiling huge.
She looked over her shoulder at me. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Ramsey.”
I shot a satisfied look at her. “And I should, because in a moment, you’re going to enjoy this way too much.”
Her eyes went soft while her chest rose with her deep breath.
I slipped the dress down to her feet. “Put your shoes back on, sweetheart.”
She turned around as I unbuttoned my shirt. “Really?”
I arched my brows. “Really, woman. Your underwear is hot, but you in those heels and that underwear is even hotter.”
She held her hands over her breasts as she slipped a foot into a shoe. I pulled off my shirt and tugged her hands away from her chest. The look in her eyes said she wished I hadn’t done that.
“Babe. You’ve got a fantastic rack, and it’s not like I didn’t see it last night.”
She shook her head while putting on the other shoe. “I know you did, but it doesn’t make me suddenly confident to traipse around half-naked in front of you.”
While she spoke, I had unbuttoned my pants and toed out of my shoes. “Funny, I never have that problem with you.”
My pants, but not my boxers, dropped to the floor and her eyes shot to my groin. That boosted my ego. And I’m sure it was all in my head, but it seemed my cock always stood straighter when she stared.
“On the bed,” I ordered.
“What? I’m in my heels.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you are. On the bed, on your back, legs spread. I’m gonna eat you out, and if those heels dig into my lats, all the better, baby.”
Her eyes widened and her hands went to her panties.
I grabbed her wrists. “Nope. I got that.”
“Should I pull the covers—”
With my lips against hers, I murmured, “No.” Then I ki
ssed her while guiding her onto the bed the way I wanted her.
I loved kissing her. It blew all others away. Every time.
I got so caught up in it, I nearly fucked her on the bed without working her up using my mouth. Tearing away, I sank to my knees.
“Clint! Those floors are gorgeous and all, but they’ve got to be hell on your—”
I yanked her panties off before draping her legs over my shoulder and pile-driving her further to the other side of the bed. That surprised her too, which pleased me. However, I loved how concerned she was for me and my knees. It spoke volumes about her feelings for me.
With my knees on the bed, I scooped her up at her waist, and brought her pussy to my lips.
“Oh shit,” she cried.
I dragged my mouth away from her sweet center. “You didn’t want me to hurt my knees, now did you?”
She did a chuckle-snort and turned her head away from me. Smiling, I went back at her delicious folds. Of the many things I missed about us, this had to be in the top five. I loved to pleasure my woman and the fact Raegan tasted so damn sweet meant we both got off on it in a huge way.
Her heels weren’t pressing into my lats, but they were biting into my shoulders enough to tell me she was damn close. The other part of my plan came back to mind, and I pulled away from her but kept hold of her body. I twisted her around to her belly and Raegan took to her knees.
I got off the bed and smacked her ass. “Feet on the floor, baby. Chest on the bed. I wanna sink into your tight heat and see your curvy-ass legs leading to those fuck-hot heels on the floor.”
She gave me a wide-eyed look over her shoulder. “When’d you get so damn bossy, Clint Ramsey?”
My head tilted with annoyance. “You know better than that. I was bossy then, and that hasn’t changed at all.”
As soon as her feet hit the floor, I noticed her hand went to her center. I leaned over her while grabbing her arm. “Do I need to restrain you, miss?”
We both sank deeper into the bed with her exhaled humor.
“God, I forgot how fun it could be with your cop-talk.”