Cupid In Heels

by Suzanne Halliday

  “Now that I’ve had an up-close glimpse courtesy of the main event, I think it’s safe to say that I’m very much looking forward to being your cock slut. If you’re willing to be my teacher, that is.”

  “Cock slut, hmm? I like how that sounds Mrs. Soon-to-Be Lloyd.”

  She laughed and squirmed on his groin. “Maybe we should take some measurements?”

  “You mean like seeing how much your sweet mouth can handle?”

  “I’m detail oriented.” She gravely smirked. “Simple details are best. Example: if Dick and Jane have sex, and Jane’s mouth can take six inches but Dick’s dick is almost nine inches, what is the outcome?”

  “In less than ninety seconds, you managed to get the terms cock slut and Dick’s dick into the conversation. I genuflect to your amazing ability to be filthy with ladylike flair. My mother will love you.”

  The mention of his parent had the same effect as a bucket of ice water dumped on Samantha’s head. The concern and worry were not at all hard to read as the emotion flashed in her expression.

  “Your mom. Right,” she murmured so quietly he might have been reading her lips instead of hearing the words.

  Very slowly, she lifted off his body, swung a leg, and sat with her back to him.

  John sighed, sat up, and kissed her shoulder.

  “We’re going to have a serious talk now, right?”

  She looked back at him and nodded.

  “Why are moms always a buzzkill?” He groaned. “Well, shit. If we have to do this, let’s get dressed, or my brain will be understandably distracted.”

  Samantha stood, avoiding his eyes, but moved into his arms for a warm embrace.

  “Want some coffee? I have decaf.”

  “Sure,” he answered. “Whatever.”

  Pushing off his chest, she bent to scoop up her robe and put it on as she walked to the door. With a reminder to be quiet, she apologized although he didn’t know why and crept from the room.

  The second he was alone, John rubbed his face with both hands and scratched the shit out of his scalp. A lot had happened in the past couple of hours. Sam no longer wanted to push him off a cliff, they’d made love, gotten engaged, and were on their way to round two of lovemaking when she pulled the plug and ran for safe ground.

  Mom. Damn. That had to be it.

  He squinched up his face and growled.

  Women.

  Fuck.

  He dressed and double-checked to make sure he looked human before leaving the bedroom. It was almost midnight, but that didn’t mean Chelsea wouldn’t wake up and appear. He didn’t want to scare her by coming off as weird.

  The phone he’d put on mute earlier vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that Ryan was calling.

  “Yep,” he answered. “What do you want?”

  His brother’s answering chuckle indicated how odd John’s terse greeting was.

  “Catch you at a bad time, bro? Shit, man. I thought you’d be having a shit fit because I didn’t get back to you right away.”

  John didn’t have time for this. “I can’t talk right now.”

  “It’s straight up midnight, John. What the hell? Why can’t you talk?”

  Tension shot into his back, so he rolled and shrugged his shoulders. “Look,” he grumbled. “I’m with Samantha, and this isn’t a good time.”

  “John,” Ryan soberly growled. “What the fuck does that mean? Are you okay? When you say you’re with Samantha, does that mean you’re at her place?”

  “I took your advice, Ry. Balled up and bared my soul.”

  “Whoa. What?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. “You heard me. Things were fine, and then Mom came up, and well, now things aren’t fine. I gotta go. Wait,” he barked just as he was about to end the call. “What happened with Jenna? Does she still work for me?”

  Ryan laughed. “Yes, but there may be a change in her status.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, you do you, bro, and I’ll do me. And maybe at the end of the day, we’ll both be a lot happier.”

  “Because of Jen and Sam?”

  Ryan agreed and said good-bye.

  The aroma of coffee reminded John he had a woman to deal with. He smiled. Was he nervous as fuck? Yes. But everything would be okay. How he felt by being with Samantha told him all he needed to know. Nothing short of all he had to give was what this situation required.

  14

  “How mad was he?” Jenna asked. “Is he at DEFCON status?”

  Ryan looked up when she came around the corner and scooted onto the bench seat of their booth. The ladies’ room run had taken longer than usual. There wasn’t enough cold water and prayer in the world to make any difference to the large splotch on the chest of her t-shirt—the result of a glob of red sauce sliding off the pizza slice she’d been shoving in her mouth.

  He sort of chuckled, but his face was a patchwork of wonder and worry.

  Uh-oh. This can’t be good, she thought.

  “Are we in the twilight zone or something?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  Jen felt his answering sigh as it reached her across the narrow table between them.

  “Um, well, he answered and right away got all snarly with me.”

  “I told you we should have called him an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, that’s not why,” he told her.

  The seriousness in his tone made her pay closer attention. She studied his pensive frown and slugged down a third of her soda, playing with the straw and swirling it through the crushed ice in her glass.

  His eyes met hers. The deep blue color made her feel oddly safe and comforted.

  “He’s with Samantha.”

  She almost choked on her drink when shock made her inhale wrong. She went red-faced and gasped through a coughing fit that brought Ryan to her side of the table. He pushed her on the bench seat and sat down at her side while thumping her on the back.

  “What does with Samantha mean, Ryan?”

  He shrugged. “Said he took my advice, grew a set, and told her how he felt.”

  “No!” she frantically wailed. “He can’t do that. We have to work out a plan. And then practice.”

  Ryan stroked her back and chuckled. “Babe, for real. I think this time he needed to fly solo. I mean, come on. What were you going to do? Feed him seduction lines by text on his honeymoon?”

  “Honeymoon? Whoa, whoa, whoa. What is it with you two and this insane rush to the altar complex?”

  “I don’t actually hear you putting up much of an argument. And for all we know, Samantha might have demanded to know his intentions before forgiving his sorry ass.”

  The whole thing struck her as funny. John and Samantha. Her and Ryan. Was the moon full? How about a harmonic convergence? Maybe a powerful love spell? Only something wildly unorthodox could begin to explain what was going on.

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be married?” Her voice gave away nothing, but that didn’t stop his mischievous smirk.

  “Nice try. That’s the sort of crap Jenna Carlton, Lloyd Global CEO’s right-hand and über efficient assistant, would say.” He moved in close and whispered, “But the whimpering sex nymph who knew the fire we played with and went for it anyway? She’s of a different mind.”

  “We were very bad,” she whispered in return. “I’m not like that, Ryan. What crazy voodoo are you using on me?”

  He nuzzled her neck and bit her earlobe. “Let’s not pretend this is sudden, okay? We’ve had a couple of years of adversarial foreplay to prime the pump.”

  She sniggered and shoved him back. “Can you please find a different expression than prime the pump? That sounds dirty.”

  His much bigger hand commandeered hers and moved to the firm bulge under the zipper of his jeans. Her eyes darted around to be sure no one was paying them any attention.

  “Touch is a powerful aphrodisiac, don’t you agree?”

  His voice held a smoky sensuality that
made her insides quiver.

  “Want to try an experiment?” he asked.

  “I just know I’m going to regret this, but yes.”

  Ryan’s lusty smile triggered a rush of excitement so powerful that Jen squirmed and crossed her legs.

  “When we leave here, I have to take care of my dog. He’s a good boy, but it’s been hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “So we’ll take a cab to my rental.”

  The distraction of his substantial erection was making her thoughts drift, so she licked her lips, cleared her throat, and forced herself to concentrate.

  “Are we at the experiment part yet?”

  “In the cab, we’ll place a hand in each other’s lap.”

  She looked him in the eyes and marveled at how calm he appeared while she was a hot mess of need.

  “Now, if you had on one of those dominatrix business suits, I’d definitely have my hand in your panties.”

  “You’re making me regret my choice of jeans.”

  He winked. She giggled. “There’s so much I want to teach you, Ms. Carlton. A touch experiment is just the beginning.”

  She pouted between laughs and asked, “And what do we get out of this experiment?”

  “For however long the cab ride takes, no matter what you do or how hard you try to think about something else, your entire body will be focused on your hand and my bulge.”

  “Oh, my,” she murmured when his words struck home. “You mean like right now?” She gave a gentle, loving squeeze to the hardness her hand caressed. He immediately covered her hand with his and pressed it against his body.

  “Pre ... cise ... ly,” he drawled in three distinct syllables.

  Just like that, she was finished and ready to call that cab. “Let’s go,” she demanded.

  He sat back and grinned. Until he got up, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Patience, love. Hurry is the enemy of pleasure.”

  Not much she could say to that, so she changed the subject—sort of.

  “You have a rental? Since when?”

  “Goober hates hotels. Too many people moving around. So I go with one of those extended vacation deals. House with all the equipment needed. No midnight runs to Bed, Bath, and Beyond.”

  She broke out a big smile. “How many beds in this rental?”

  “Uh, four. Why?”

  “Because we’re going to break them all in.”

  “Are we now?” he asked with a pleased snicker.

  “Yep, yep. And then in the morning, you’re going to use the Lloyd connections and find a judge to marry us.”

  “Bossy, much?” His smile let her know she couldn’t have pleased him more.

  “My mother is a pediatrician. She’ll be apoplectic if you get me pregnant without a wedding ring.”

  Ryan rocked back and forth as he laughed. “Get you pregnant? Jeez, lady. You make it sound like making a kid is something you had no part of.”

  Then, as if a switch was thrown, he became deadly serious.

  “Jen, would you marry me even if our little oops wasn’t a consideration?”

  “Would you have asked otherwise?” she countered.

  “You belong to me,” he grumbled.

  Men. Such babies sometimes. She came back with a question of her own.

  “Do you belong to me, Ryan?”

  His quick, assertive answer made Jen’s heart flutter.

  “I came back because of you. Plain and simple. Not because of the store and not because of my mother’s relentless mission to make me plant some roots. Three months in Alaska trying to convince myself otherwise was a useless exercise in futility.”

  “What we’re doing is beyond radical. You know that, right?”

  “Those orchids sealed your fate, baby. We are meant to be.”

  “Do you love me?” Jen couldn’t believe she asked the question, but she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around a lot of what was happening.

  “I’ve been in love with you for a while, darlin’. Not trying to parse the words, but I believe there’s a difference.”

  “So does that mean we’re going to say the words?”

  “I’m ready. You?”

  Jen considered the question and found her answer in his compelling eyes. “Let’s say it together, okay? Count of three.”

  “You’re fucking fantastic,” he murmured through a chuckle. “Go ahead.”

  “One. Two. Three,” she counted and then with a full heart, she barked, “I love you!”

  His shout went a bit further. “I fucking love you!”

  He grabbed her face for a hearty, smacking kiss. “Let’s get a move on.”

  She took one last slug from her soda, wiped her mouth on a napkin, and scooted out of the booth. He held out his hand to help her stand, and some part of her being simply went all gooey and mushy at the gesture.

  They marched out of the pizza parlor, hailed a cab, settled in, got all handsy with each other’s crotch, and drove off into the night.

  John moved into the kitchen silently and approached Samantha from behind. He wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her into an embrace. In the time it took between Ryan’s phone call and making it to the kitchen, he decided there’d be no beating around the bush.

  “I won’t let anyone ruin for this for us. Whatever you’re worried about, just tell me, and we’ll face it together.”

  She turned in his arms. “Oh, John. Us being together is so sudden. I’m afraid when we leave this little bubble and others weigh in, this won’t feel quite so … perfect.”

  “You’re referring to my mother, right? She’s what caused your sudden mood change.”

  “Are we a cliché?” she asked. “Boss and employee?”

  “No, goddammit. If anything, we’re an inspiration.”

  Her smile, even though it was slight, saved his sanity.

  “What will your mother think?”

  “Oh.” He chuckled. “Yeah. About that. Don’t freak or anything, but we’re having dinner with her tomorrow night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Here’s the abridged version of events. Mom. Aunt Grace. Meddlers. Ryan. Matchmaking. Society succubus. Jen. Furious. A phone call. I biffed. Moms always know. Gauntlet thrown. Both sons ... and their women. Command performance. No regrets will be accepted.”

  “That’s a lot to take on board,” she muttered. “Um, explain the succubus, please?”

  “Jenna got wind of the twins’ plan to marry Ryan or me off. Let’s just say she wasn’t amused when Ryan was in the bull’s-eye and a potential candidate chosen. I believe the shock of the situation is what forced those two, Ryan and Jen, out of their mutually combative habit.”

  “Do you know who it was? The woman Connie and Grace chose?”

  “I do, yes. But in retrospect, I’m starting to think it was all a ruse. Mom wasn’t surprised when I told her to back off Ryan. And she didn’t hesitate for even a second when I told her I was seeing someone.”

  John held steady while Samantha surrendered to a bout of lip biting and frowns. She plucked a button on his shirt and appeared to find his throat fascinating. He had to get her talking or at least looking at him. He needed those guideposts.

  Jen’s calm, firm whisper drifted across his thoughts. She was good at reminding him to slow down. Or, as she put it, to chill the fuck out and breathe a little. She said forcing a speedy conversation or responses was dumb. That even thoughts needed oxygen and a little space.

  So he ran his hands slowly up and down her silk covered arms and let her take the time she needed. And to be perfectly honest, standing in the kitchen as they were, with their lower bodies touching in a lover’s pose? He liked it. They felt good and natural together.

  After what felt like an eternity, Samantha raised her eyes and ran her fingers down one side of his face. It was a loving gesture made more memorable because her hand wore his ring.

  “You poor thing.”

  John detected the tee
ny-tiny mocking lilt in what she said and broke into a grin. That she didn’t find his social challenges off-putting was the bonus he never dreamed would happen.

  “I don’t understand your family at all. But I suppose I’d better get it together, huh? Just clarify a couple of things. Please?”

  “Oh, my god, Sam. What? Ask me anything you want. I’m an open book where you’re concerned. Just remember, though, that you’re probably gonna always have to ask.”

  “Yes, John. I get that part!” A smug eye roll punctuated her words. “Regarding your mother and what she pried out of you by making you panic in a phone call.”

  He groaned. “She’s an expert. It’s not just me being hopeless.”

  “When you say moms always know and that she wasn’t surprised you were interested in someone, was my name mentioned?”

  “No, not directly.”

  She nodded but went silent. Then she asked, “Is the plan that we show up at dinner and say, oh, by the way, we’ve never been on an actual date yet but guess what? We’re engaged.”

  He snorted a laugh. It sounded so absurd, but that was exactly what would go down.

  “Sounds about right.” He chuckled and added, “And for shits and giggles? If you want, we can pretend there will be no hanky-panky before the wedding.”

  Thumping a playful hand on his chest, Samantha giggled at his wisecrack.

  “Hold up, now. That idea has merit,” she quipped. “We could have so much fun playing it old school. We’d only be able to pull it off that one time, though,” she told him.

  “Why is that?” He asked.

  “Because, darling, unless I’m reading you all wrong, we’ll be sleeping in the same bed from now on. Am I right?”

  He wrapped her in a powerful embrace and grabbed her ass with one hand.

  “It’s where you belong.”

  “Oooh.” She snickered. “Yes! I like the growly voice and possessive ass grab.”

  It was amazing how quickly life changed. He truly had not been this happy since before his dad died. In a way, he couldn’t believe he would get a happily ever after—at his age and with his shortcomings.

  And even more astonishing was the instant family that came with the deal.