Negotiating for Love

by Sharon C. Cooper

  Chapter Five

  Their gazes met, and Martina gulped. Tingles scurried up her arm and ricocheted through her body like fireworks exploding. Her heart pounded in her chest as Paul’s skillful tongue swirled around the tip of her finger.

  Groaning inside, she squeezed her thighs together trying like hell to tamp down the blast of heat that shot straight to her core.

  Damn that was sexy.

  He held her gaze as if willing her to have an orgasm right then and there. Damn if she hadn’t come close.

  The bastard.

  He knew what he was doing. He knew that where he was concerned, it didn’t take much to make her come.

  Martina slowly pulled her hand from his grasp, wiping it down the side of her jean-clad thigh. Regaining her composure, she released the breath that had stalled in her chest.

  “You were saying?”

  Crap. What was I saying?

  She narrowed her eyes when a stupid smirk spread across his handsome face. Frustration radiated through her pores. He still had the ability to distract her. What was it about this man that he could throw her off her game with little or no effort? What was he doing there anyway? Sure she had hoped to see him, but she didn’t think she actually would.

  “What, nothing to say? That has to be a first,” he cracked.

  Not waiting for a response, Paul stepped over to a nearby console that held napkins, straws, and condiments. Martina took the opportunity to check him out.

  Male perfection.

  The light-blue Henley shirt, stretched across his back, hugged his broad shoulders and thick arms. He might have spent many of his days sitting at a desk or meeting with constituents, but it was clear he still made time for working out.

  Her gaze went lower to his tight butt and long legs covered by dark jeans. He resembled a high-powered attorney when he wore suits, but in casual wear, he had a hot bad boy thing going on.

  Paul turned, catching her checking him out. The left side of his magnificent mouth tilted up into a smile. Martina had darn near melted to the floor when he came out of nowhere and ordered her breakfast. But now, those intense dark eyes, luscious lips, and sexy smile had her trying to hold herself together.

  “So do you still come here often?” he asked.

  “Not anymore.” Not since we parted ways she wanted to add, but didn’t.

  She didn’t bother looking up at him, at least not until she knew she was back in control of her faculties. What were the chances that they would both be at the coffee shop, where it all started, at the same time?

  “Number fifty-six.”

  “That’s us. I’ll grab our meal. I’m sitting over—”

  “I’m not staying,” Martina blurted, surprising herself and catching the attention of those closest to them. There was no way she could endure being close to him much longer. She needed time to regroup … away from him.

  Paul stopped and studied her for a moment, but didn’t respond. He moved to the counter and grabbed their order.

  “Come on. Sit and talk with me for a minute.” He headed to the rear of the coffee shop without looking back, as if knowing she would follow.

  “I should just walk out,” she mumbled. “It would serve him right for thinking he can just boss me around.”

  Realizing she was standing there like an idiot talking to herself, she huffed and marched after him.

  “You have a lot of nerve,” she snapped when he stopped at the last booth. “First ordering for me and then assuming that I would sit and have breakfast with you. I’m not one of your little butt kissing lackeys. You can’t just snap your fingers and think I will bow to your will.”

  Paul placed the food and drinks on the table before turning to her with a calm that pissed her off more.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was just surprised to see you in here, though I had hoped to run into you.” He brushed a lock of curls from her forehead and reached for her hand, weakening her defenses. “Would you please join me for breakfast?”

  A hopeful glint shown in his eyes and she felt like a spoil brat at her mini-tirade. What was wrong with her? Why did his presence stir up such craziness within her?

  “Come on. You can give me a hard time after you eat.” He topped his comment off with a legendary smile. He knew she couldn’t resist that smile … or food.

  Martina’s family teased her about her hearty appetite, but not Paul. He fed her, claiming he loved a woman who enjoyed food as much as he did.

  “Oh all right. I’ll eat with you.”

  Once she sat across from him, the small talk felt forced, but then conversation flowed between them. They were both careful not to bring up any topics that would set either of them off. Namely – politics or their past relationship.

  “So do you still cook?” she asked. The meals he often prepared were worthy of a fine dining establishment.

  “Not as much as I used to,” he answered, seeming to want to say more when he opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it.

  She hoped she wasn’t the cause of him not cooking. Someone with his culinary talent really should be a professional chef. Not wasting his time on Capitol Hill passing ridiculous laws.

  “So how have you’ve been, Martina?”

  God the lyrical way he said her name, with that deep, sexy, baritone voice, sent goosebumps down her arms. Add that to the fact that she was sitting close enough to get a whiff of his fresh scent of spice and soap, so uniquely him, and she was ready to crawl into his lap.

  She lowered her eyes. Get it together girl.

  She brought her coffee cup to her mouth but didn’t drink from it. “I’ve been all right. What about you? Besides talking crazy about unions to anyone who will listen, what have you been up to this past year?”

  Paul chuckled, and she smiled behind the coffee cup. Now she was just teasing him. She liked some of his other political ideas. He was all for the state contributing more to funds that helped with homelessness and feeding the hungry.

  “Same ol’ same ol’. Traveling back and forth from Ohio to D.C. Seems I’ve been attending more events than ever this year, barely able to keep up with myself. I guess I’m just riding out this last year of my term, trying to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  “I hear you’re thinking about running for president.”

  “That’s just a rumor … probably started by my parents.”

  The bitterness in his tone told her he still wasn’t interested in the job. He didn’t want to be in politics. He had always felt a sense of obligation and as a third generation U.S. Senator, his parents felt that he was the family’s best chance of adding a United States President to the Kendricks family legacy.

  Martina never understood why, at forty, he just didn’t tell his parents to take a flying leap instead of tolerating their nagging. She had never met the illustrious Kendricks, who came from old money. They were well-known in Cincinnati for their philanthropy. It wasn’t that Paul hadn’t wanted her to meet them, on the contrary. He’d tried a few times to get her in front of his parents. She just wasn’t having it. She knew how things like that worked. First meeting the parents, and then walking down the aisle to marry him. Nope, wasn’t going to happen.

  Martina had vowed years ago never to do something stupid like fall in love. She had watched her mother go through the vicious cycle of love and loss. With two failed marriages, Carolyn Jenkins still hadn’t gotten it right. Martina had no intention of following in her footsteps.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this,” Paul said interrupting her thoughts, “but it’s good seeing you. You’re as beautiful as ever.”

  Martina lowered her eyes to the oatmeal in front of her, feeling her face flame. She had received her share of whistles, compliments, and even cheesy pickup lines from men. It was different when Paul paid her a compliment. With him, it just felt different. Real. She knew his words were sincere and weren’t just spoken to get into her panties.

  After pr
actically stirring the oatmeal to death, she finally chanced a glance at him. Her heart flipped. Desire radiated in his eyes as his gaze studied her.

  “Thank you.”

  A sudden bout of nervousness crept through her body. This was ridiculous. She never got anxious. Maybe it was because she couldn’t believe she was there with him. Well, technically, she wasn’t with him. They just happen to be at the same spot, she told herself.

  Between bites, Martina asked, “So how is Charlie?”

  Paul’s dog, a collie mix that he rescued two months before they met, had her thinking about getting a puppy.

  Paul finished the coffee cake and wiped his mouth. “Charlie’s great. My sister and her husband keep him when I’m in D.C. or traveling around the state. Leaving him at a kennel so often wasn’t working out. I’m pretty much sharing the dog with them and my nieces, who are spoiling him rotten.”

  “That’s nice. I didn’t grow up with a pet, but I think every child should have one.” One of the activities that she and Paul enjoyed while dating was volunteering at one of the city’s dog shelters. It was a wonder neither of them had a house full of dogs since they fell in love with some of the animals each time they volunteered.

  “I’ve missed you,” Paul said. He’d spoken the words so low, Martina wasn’t sure if he had meant for her to hear him.

  She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. If she opened her mouth, her brave front of no longer being interested in him would fly right out the window. She didn’t want him to know how much she missed talking with him. How much she missed being in his arms, or how much she missed making love to him. Nope, some things were best left unsaid.

  Paul leaned forward. His large hands, her weakness, folded around the coffee cup and he slowly lifted it to his sinfully sexy mouth. Unable to tear her gaze away, Martina sat mesmerized as he took a careful sip.

  Their eyes met.

  She gulped.

  God she hoped he couldn’t read minds. If he could, he would know that she wished that sinfully sexy mouth and those powerful hands were on her body making it come to life. Like before when those hands caressed her, paying extra attention to her breasts. Or when he would tweak her nipples, kneading them into perky pebbles. Her pulse kicked up just remembering how he would take one into his hot skillful mouth, swirl his tongue around the tip while teasing the other. And then…”

  “What?” he asked.

  Martina blinked.

  A smile pulled at his lips as if he really could read her mind.

  Martina blinked again feeling her face heat.

  Paul sat back, his dark eyebrows now slanted downward. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  She didn’t dare ask - what way. She knew. She knew that everything she once felt for him showed on her face. And she knew if she sat there too much longer she was going to say something stupid like my place or yours.

  Desire hummed through her body, nipping at every nerve. She quickly glanced away.

  What was I thinking coming here?

  “Martina?” He covered her hand with his. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…I… Nothing,” she murmured, willing her pounding heart to slow its rapid pace. If being in his presence for a half an hour had this effect on her, what did that say about her?

  You are nothing like your mother. Peyton’s words came back to her, but Martina knew. She knew that when it came to men, she was exactly like her mother.

  No. No. I am not my mother. I am not my mother.

  The silent chant looped through her brain over and over again until she felt more in control. No way would she let a man, any man, reduce her to acting like some bumbling fool.

  *

  Paul stared across the table with concern at the woman who had stolen his heart a year ago. He didn’t know why she’d spaced out, but it now seemed as if she was coming back to herself.

  Studying Martina, she was such a contradiction. She had the face of an angel, a body of a goddess and the mouth of a bad-ass. Martina was passionate about everything from food to animals, to sex, and was stubborn as hell. She could be sweet as apple pie one minute and then turn around curse you out, the next.

  There was no other place he would rather be than in her company. Yes, maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, or maybe he was just a man who was still in love with this amazingly complex woman.

  “Now why are you looking at me like that? You said you wanted to talk, so talk.”

  In spite of himself, he chuckled. God, he missed her sass.

  “What was really going on the night you walked out on me?”

  “You know why I left.” She stared down at the half-eaten muffin, surprising Paul. Martina always made eye contact. This shy, quiet woman sitting in front of him caught him off guard.

  “At first, I thought you left because you were fed up with us arguing about my political platform, but now I’m not sure.” He also had a feeling she’d left because he blurted out – I love you – in the heat of passion, but he wasn’t positive.

  She glanced up, searched his eyes before speaking. “My leaving couldn’t have bothered you too much since you didn’t come after me.”

  Hold up. Wait. What? Is that what she wanted? For me to go after her?

  “Martina, your exact words were ‘I’m done. Don’t call me. Don’t come by my house. Lose my damn number.’”

  “Why can’t you call me MJ like everyone else?”

  “As I told you before, the name is as beautiful as you are and I have no intention of ever calling you anything but Martina.”

  Paul expected a smart retort, but one never came. Instead, she finished off her muffin as if they weren’t just in the middle of a conversation. For the life of him, he had no idea where she put all the food she consumed. She could out eat most men he knew, yet at 5’5, she couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds.

  “Did you want me to come after you that night?” he finally asked.

  Again silence. Shock coursed through his veins at the realization that she had actually wanted him to chase after her.

  “Baby, talk to me. Tell me what I did that was so wrong back then that you had to walk out on me.”

  “You didn’t stick to our agreement.”

  “What agreement?”

  She leaned in closer. “We agreed to be friends with benefits. Nothing more. Then you had to go getting all serious and … and stuff.”

  “The ‘and stuff’ is what? When I started asking you to be my date for various events? Or when I asked you what you thought about us moving in together? Or is the ‘and stuff’ when I told you that I loved you?”

  Her jaw tightened. “All of that goes against the agreement of friends with benefits!” she seethed. “You knew going in that I didn’t want all of that love crap. We were having a good time until you had to go and ruin it.”

  “Martina, I don’t know what to tell you, except … you’re irresistible.” It was the first thing that came to mind. “I didn’t plan to fall in love with you. It just happened. Instead of you pushing me away, couldn’t you just tell me how you felt?”

  “I shouldn’t have had to. You should have known.”

  “Let me ask you this. If I had taken some other woman to the events I invited you to, what would you have said?”

  She shrugged. “Probably have a good time. Hell, I don’t know. All I know is that my attending events and hanging out at your parent’s palace weren’t part of the agreement.”

  “So you would have been okay with me going out with someone else when you and I were together?”

  Her lips twisted and frown deepened. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

  “Like hell, you wouldn’t have. Knowing you, not only would you have showed up and probably given the woman a verbal beat down, you would have cursed me out in the process.”

  After a long hesitation, she said, “Maybe, but we’ll never know now will we?” Frustration roared through his body as she gathered up her handbag preparing to
leave. “Well, we’ve talked. Now we can move on with our lives … separately.”

  “Hold up. You’re just going to leave?”

  “Yeah. We’ve eaten, talked, what else is there?”

  He could think of a lot of things, like kiss and makeup. But he was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear that.

  “Martina, please sit down.”

  “Paul, it was great seeing you, but I have better things to do than sit around rehashing the past. Thanks for breakfast.”

  Martina turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand. An electric charge shot up his arm and through his body. She shivered, and he had no doubt she felt it too.

  Apparently, he was having more of an effect on her than she was letting on.

  “Don’t leave yet,” he said close to her ear, still holding her hand.

  She glanced down at their joined hands before her gaze met his. Those beautiful brown eyes that he’d seen over and over in his dreams held something he hadn’t seen before. Vulnerability.

  “Stay a little longer, or at least, have dinner with me tonight.” He was preparing dinner for a local homeless shelter, but he’d find a way to have dinner with her as well.

  “I…I can’t,” she said softly and eased her hand from his.

  He looped his arm around her tiny waist, not letting her move away. Before she could protest, he lowered his head, and their lips touched. He had to find out if what he was feeling inside was mutual. He had to know if she still had feelings for him.

  He nibbled at her top lip, then her lower one. She parted her lips ever so slightly, inviting his tongue in for a taste.

  Sweetness. She tasted even better than he remembered.

  Her small hands slid slowly up his chest, and the softness of her lips against his had him holding her closer. They had probably garnered some attention. He didn’t care. All he wanted was to continue holding her against his body, taking all that she was willing to give. But what he didn’t want to do was scare her off. He wanted another chance with her plain and simple.

  With one last peck, Paul lifted his head slightly. “I’ve missed you.” The rasp of his voice carried the emotions jockeying around inside of him. “I—”