Blush for Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I figured. Do you want to go to bed?”

  She smiles and shakes her head. “No, I want to walk down the street for some coffee.”

  She’s in a happy mood, and for not getting any sleep she’s bright-eyed and energetic, and it’s completely charming.

  “Anything you want,” I reply before kissing her softly.

  “And then I want to come back here and make love.”

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~Kat~

  “This has been the day from hell,” Mia says as she walks into my bar, sits on a stool next to Riley, and leans her elbows on the smooth wood. “I hate today.”

  “Tell me about it,” Riley says, and sips her wine. “If one more asshole tries to leave here without paying their check, I’m going to sucker-punch them in the neck.”

  “That’s not good for public relations,” I reply with a snort. “I can see the headline now: ‘Restaurant Owner and Marketing Manager Charged with Assault.’”

  “Hey, we’d probably get more business,” Mia says with a smile. “Can I please have a glass of wine?”

  “Of course.” As I turn to pour Mia a glass, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  Mac: How was your day?

  I grin as I pass Mia her drink.

  “That’s Mac,” Riley informs us all.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  “From the corny grin on your face.”

  Long day. Ready for it to be over.

  A few seconds later, he replies with Mind if I go down to your place for a bit?

  I shrug. Knock yourself out. Key under the mat.

  I send off the reply, and since we’ve just locked up, I pour some wine for myself and walk around the bar to sit with the girls. “I love my job, you guys. You know I do.”

  “We all do,” Mia says.

  “But today was not good.”

  “Two dine-and-dashers, one waiter who showed up drunk,” Riley says. “What else?”

  “I had a sous chef walk out on me,” Mia says with a frown. “She said it wasn’t fair that I threw the steak she overcooked on the floor.”

  “Gordon Ramsay has nothing on you in the mean department,” I reply, shaking my head. “You made her cry.”

  “She’s an idiot,” Mia mumbles. “Is it wrong that I expect my staff to be competent? Our menu isn’t cheap, and people come here to eat the food they order, the way they order it. And screwing it up is expensive.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Riley replies. “But maybe you could be . . . gentler.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “Or not,” I say with a laugh.

  “What happened in here tonight?” Riley asks.

  “Oh, you didn’t know?”

  “No.”

  I do something I’ve never done before and guzzle my wine, then turn to my friends. “Grace didn’t show up again. This is the third time, if I count the night she called out with the sick kid.”

  “Does she always use the kid as an excuse?” Riley asks.

  “She didn’t use any excuse tonight. She just didn’t show.”

  “Ugh,” Mia says, rolling her eyes. “Fire her already.”

  “She’s a single mom,” I reply. “I can’t just fire her.”

  “Mia’s right, Kat. She calls out more than she’s here. I love that you care enough to want to give her a shot at making it right, but it seems to me that she isn’t trying very hard.”

  I let out a gusty sigh and nod. “I know. I’ll call her tomorrow and have Cami put her last check in the mail. Which means I have to hire someone, and I hate that process more than I hate brussels sprouts.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with brussels sprouts,” Mia says defensively, making us all chuckle. “What else happened?”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “To make you like this? No,” Riley replies.

  “Sam came in.” I walk back around the bar to refill my glass, top theirs off as well, and wait for them to yell.

  But they don’t. They just stare at me.

  “What?” I finally demand.

  “What the hell?” Mia finally says. “Who cares if he came in? You haven’t seen him in two years.”

  “And he was a jackass.”

  “I know. I don’t give a shit about Sam.” And that’s the God’s truth. I’ve barely even thought of him since we broke up two years ago. I don’t want him. I’m in a happy relationship. “There’s no reason for him to put me in a bad mood, but you add all of the other shitty things up from today, and put him on top of it . . . it just pissed me off.”

  “Is this the first time he’s been in since we opened?” Mia asks.

  “That I’m aware of,” I reply with a nod.

  “What did he say?” Riley asks.

  “Just ‘Hi, Kat. Nice place.’ And then he sat down at that table over there with some chick. They didn’t have dinner, they just had a couple drinks and left. I should probably disinfect the table.”

  “Are you seriously hung up on that douche canoe?” Mia asks.

  “Fuck no,” I reply. “I was just surprised to see him walk in, and I was by myself, so I was running around like crazy. It was a busy night.”

  “I’ll never complain about busy nights,” Riley says, clinking her glass to mine.

  “Just threw me, that’s all.”

  “I get it,” Mia says. “I think it must be a full moon or Venus is in the house of the rising sun or some shit.”

  “I agree,” Riley says. “I’m out of here.”

  “Me too,” Mia says. “And I know this will shock the shit out of you, but I think I’ll take tomorrow off.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I reply, surprised.

  “I need a day,” Mia says with a shrug. “I only take one a month.”

  “And you should take more than that,” I reply. We snap the lights out on our way to the front door.

  “Let me give you a ride home,” Mia says.

  “Thanks.” I smile and climb into her car. “I don’t usually mind the walk, but damn, I’m tired.”

  “But not sleepy,” she guesses correctly.

  “Not sleepy.”

  We’re quiet on the short drive to my building. When she parks, she turns to me and surprises me again by pulling me in for a hug. Mia’s not the touchy-feely type.

  “Are you okay, Mia?”

  “Yeah. I’m just out of sorts.” She pulls back and smiles. “And sometimes even blackhearted bitches like me need a hug.”

  “You’re not blackhearted or a bitch,” I reply immediately. “You’re amazing, and some people just don’t get you.”

  “Well, thanks for getting me.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for the ride.”

  I wave as I walk into the building and feel my shoulders sag in the elevator. It’s been a long damn day. I trudge down my hall to the door, walk inside, and stop in my tracks.

  “Hi there, Red.”

  “Hi.”

  Mac is waiting for me with a glass of wine in his hand and a smile on his handsome face. He crosses to me and presses his lips to mine in a sweet kiss, then takes my hand.

  “Follow me.”

  He leads me into the bathroom.

  “Oh my God.”

  “All you have to do is get undressed and into the bath.”

  But I can’t move. The room is lit only with candles, about a dozen of them, scattered about. The tub is full of steaming water and I can smell my favorite orange oil coming from it.

  On a stool next to the tub is my Kindle. He sets my wineglass on the stool and turns to me, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Are you okay with this?”

  “Only a moron wouldn’t be okay with this,” I reply, and cling to him tightly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. But I think you’ll love it better once you’re in the tub.”

  He smiles as he pulls away and begins to help me undress, then helps me into the tub.

  “Oh God, this is heaven.”


  “Not too hot?”

  “It’s perfect.” I sink down and close my eyes, feeling most of the stress slide right off of me. “I might fall asleep here.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t drown,” he replies, and begins to tug the pins from my hair. He brushes it gently over the side of the freestanding soaker tub, then twists it into a knot on top of my head so it doesn’t get wet.

  “You’re good at this.”

  “I enjoy taking care of you once in a while. You’re so independent that these moments are a treat.”

  I’m quiet for a moment as he lays my bathtub tray across the tub, sets my wine and Kindle there, and kisses my forehead.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be out in the living room if you need anything.”

  He smiles and leaves the room, and all I can do is stare at the glass of wine and the way the golden liquid sparkles in the candlelight. I’d love to read for a bit, but my arms are tired, and the hot water is like a cocoon. I don’t want to lift my arms out of it.

  So I lie here and stare at the wine, and think back over tonight, and why seeing an old boyfriend, someone I haven’t seen or thought about in more than two years, would throw me off my game.

  Sam wasn’t the nicest guy in the world. The sex was fun, but he was critical and moody, and didn’t like my sense of style. It didn’t take long for me to realize that he wasn’t the one for me, and leaving was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I haven’t been in a relationship since that one, until Mac.

  “And Mac is everything that Sam wasn’t,” I whisper aloud, watching the water cascade off my hands as I lift them in and out of the water. “Sam would have never done something this nice for me.”

  Mac is gentle and kind. Hell, from the moment I met him on that godforsaken plane, he’s comforted and soothed me like no one ever has before. I don’t know how, but he always knows what I need.

  He calms me.

  I can sleep with him, for fuck sake.

  “Sometimes you don’t know how bad the previous relationships were until you’re in a healthy one,” I remind myself quietly, and I smile. For the first time in my life, I’ve met someone who knows without asking me how to soothe me. How to calm my brain.

  How to love me.

  He may not say it, but my God, he shows me that he loves me every single day. And I love him too.

  I love him so much I hurt with it.

  And I want him. Right now.

  I slide the tray down and stand, the water sliding off my body and leaving me a bit cold, but I don’t care. I walk out of the tub, and without a towel, into the living room to find him.

  Water is running down my body in rivers, leaving goose bumps and my nipples puckered. I don’t care that I’m dripping all over the place.

  I just want him.

  And I find him, in my chair, reading a book of his own. He looks up when he hears me approach; his eyes flare as they wander down my naked and wet body.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  Without answering him, I slip into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and kiss him. Long, wet, passionate kisses that leave us both breathless.

  “Kat?”

  “I need you,” I reply, and straddle him. “I need you right now.”

  “I’m yours, baby.” He cups my cheeks in his hands as I unzip his pants, pull him free, and slide over him, making us both sigh. “I’m yours.”

  “Thank God because I’m yours too.”

  “Good night,” Mia says with a wave as she walks out through the front of the house just two nights later.

  “Bye.” I’m the last one here, and I’m about finished as well. Today was a good day. I hired a new employee, much faster than I expected. She’ll start tomorrow, and I’m excited to work with her. She has plenty of experience, and if first impressions are accurate, she seems like she’ll be fun to have around here.

  I toss the dirty bar rag into the laundry bucket under the sink and turn to find Mac walking in.

  “Mia let me in,” he says with a grin.

  “I figured.”

  I’m not surprised to see him in the least. Ever since the other night after my bath, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off me.

  I’m not complaining.

  And I’m not just talking about sex, although there’s been a lot of that. Whenever he’s near, his hand is on me. Holding mine, resting on my back, my thigh, playing with my hair.

  He’s a very affectionate man, and I didn’t realize until now that affection is something I’ve been lacking in my life.

  “How was your day today?” he asks, circling around the bar, his eyes pinned to mine and bright green with lust.

  “Good.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.” He reaches me and pulls me against him, wraps his arms around my waist, and nudges my nose with his. “What if I told you it’s about to get much better?”

  “Am I going to win the lottery?”

  He smiles and shakes his head no.

  “Are we going back to the beach?”

  “Wrong again.”

  His hands travel up under my shirt and around to cup my breasts, his thumbs nudging them through my bra.

  “I give up. What’s about to happen?”

  He leans closer, pressing his lips to mine, and says, “I’m going to fuck you, right here in your bar.”

  “Well, that doesn’t make me mad,” I reply, and bite his lower lip.

  “Glad to hear it.” He turns me around, lifting my shirt over my head and tossing it on the bar, along with my bra. “Brace your hands on the bar.”

  God, I love it when he gets bossy like this. It makes me instantly wet and my pussy throbs from wanting him.

  “Have you ever had sex in here, Kat?”

  “No. We have a policy. No sex in here for any of us, but I’m pretty sure the others have broken that rule already.”

  “Well, we’re going to break it too,” he says, dragging his hands down my bare back. He has the best hands. He sweeps my hair to the side and kisses my neck, licks down to the top of my shoulder blade, and bites me there. His hands are gathering my skirt around my waist. “Are you wearing panties?”

  “Nope,” I reply, unable to elaborate further. God, the things he makes me feel should be illegal.

  “Good girl,” he croons, and when my ass is exposed, he rubs circles on each cheek, then slaps the right cheek, just hard enough to get my attention.

  “Good girls get spanked?” I ask with a grin, looking back at him.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Lucky me,” I reply, and gasp when he slaps the left cheek as well. He kisses down my spine, bites each cheek, then spreads them apart and buries his face in my folds, licking and sucking and making me fucking crazy.

  Just as I’m about to come, he stops and spins me back around.

  “I was so close.”

  “You’ll be close again.” He boosts me onto the counter and spreads me wide. “I’m going to fuck you here.”

  “Thank God.”

  His eyes shine with his satisfied grin. He’s teasing me, his fingers sliding in and out of me, up to my clit, then through my lips. The sensation is incredible, sending sparks of electricity down my legs and up through my torso.

  Even my fingertips are throbbing.

  “I need you, Mac.”

  His eyes flare. “Say that again.”

  “I need you.”

  “That’s not what you said.”

  I cup his face in my hands. “I need you, Mac.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now. Please.”

  He frees himself, protects us both, and plunges deep inside me, aggressively. He’s holding my legs wide, watching as he fucks me.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he growls. “I want you all the time. It’s all I think about.”

  “Mac.”

  “Not just this, but all of you. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  I smile, then mo
an when he presses his thumb on my clit.

  “You are mine, do you understand me?”

  My eyes fly open and I stare up at him. His jaw is clenched.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I reply. I can’t help it, I have to bite something, he’s making me nuts. I lean into his shoulder and bite him, leaving little marks. “Yours.”

  “Mine,” he repeats. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

  I bear down, clenching around him, and smile when he groans, coming apart spectacularly.

  We’re a sweaty, panting, well-sexed heap of human beings, clinging to each other as we both come down from the high.

  “Are you ready to go home?” he asks.

  “No. I’m hungry.” I kiss his neck. “Feed me.”

  “Anything you want, Red.”

  “What’ll you have?” an older woman named Flo asks us at a nearby diner that’s open all night. She’s smacking gum, and I can’t help but grin. She’s just like that waitress on the TV show from the seventies.

  “I’d like some pancakes, bacon, and a hot chocolate,” I reply.

  “I’ll just have some of hers,” Mac replies, passing our menus to her.

  “You’re not hungry?”

  “It’s midnight,” he replies with a smile. “It’s a bit late for me to eat.”

  “I didn’t have dinner.” I shrug. “And you’ve been helping me burn extra calories lately.”

  “We’ll have to remember to put some protein bars in your handbag,” he says with a smile. “I’ll bring you smoothies.”

  I shake my head and giggle. “Mia will cook me up something if I ask her to.”

  “Then remember to ask her to,” he says. We’re cuddled up on the same side of the booth. “Was tonight okay?”

  “I don’t think okay is the right word for it.”

  “I’m not looking for an ego boost,” he says.

  “I’m not giving you one,” I reply, and thread our fingers together. “I don’t give empty compliments. Tonight was fun and sexy.”

  “Good.” He kisses my temple. “You’re beautiful.”

  He’s tracing the tattoos on my arm. “Why do I get the impression that you don’t normally date women all inked up?”

  “I’ve dated women with tattoos before,” he says.

  “Probably not like mine.”

  “No,” he admits. “And it’s not because I have an issue with your tattoos. Not in the least.”