by Nina Lane
“Uh, yes.”
“Oh, good to talk to you. This is Ed Darling. She told me about you.”
Tyler didn’t know what to say. She’d told her father what about him? That he was the Stone family loser? That they were coworkers? That they were more than that?
“Nice talking to you too,” he finally said, remembering what Kate had told him about needing to help save her father from near-bankruptcy.
He hated the idea of a young Kate having to take responsibility for her father’s fuck-ups—even more than he hated the knowledge that he’d never taken responsibility for his own fuck-ups. At least, not until now.
“How long have you been dating her?” Ed asked.
“Not long.” Tyler paced to the dining room and back, glancing at the closed bedroom door. She’d told her father they were dating. For a girl like Kate, telling her father something like that was no small thing.
“So you’re working with her at Sugar Rush?” Ed asked.
“That’s correct.”
“Must be an interesting job, data analysis.”
Tyler froze. “Data analysis?”
“Isn’t that what you do? That’s what Kate told me, I think. You’re doing some data analysis consulting for Sugar Rush?”
What the fuck?
“Hold on.” He forced his voice to remain steady. “I’ll get her for you.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll call her back later, if she’s busy. Take care, Tyler.”
Before Tyler could respond, Ed ended the call. He set the phone down, his heart hammering. She’d told her father they were “dating,” but she’d also told him he was a data analyst?
“Ready?” Kate peeked out from the bedroom.
Tyler couldn’t move. Kate drew her brows together, as if she sensed his sudden shift in mood, and came out of the bedroom. She looked different—not just because of the designer tweed suit she wore, but because of what he’d just heard.
“What happened?” she asked. “I heard you talking on the phone. Is everything okay?”
“It was your phone.” He tilted his head to the coffee table. “It rang, and I answered it.”
Her forehead furrowed. “You answered my phone?”
“I didn’t…” He paced away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t recognize the name, and figured it was no big deal.”
“So you thought it was okay to answer it?” Irritation scraped her voice. “That’s overstepping your boundaries.”
“The fuck buddy boundaries, you mean?” Tyler snapped. “Are those the boundaries you’re talking about? The ones about not getting involved outside of the occasional fuck? Is that why we’d planned to go to dinner tonight and why you wanted to show me your new clothes? Because we’re just fucking and having fun?”
Her jaw tightened. “None of that gives you the right to answer my phone. Who called?”
“Your father.”
“My father.” Trepidation flashed in her brown eyes. “Did he say he’d call back?”
“Yeah. We introduced ourselves.” He crossed his arms. “He said you told him we were dating. He also asked me how my data analysis work was going at Sugar Rush.”
Kate stared at him for a second before closing her eyes with a groan. “Tyler…”
“Kate.” Anger flooded his veins. “Why did you tell your father I’m a data analyst? I get that Norwood is your dream guy, but don’t drag me into lies about your social life. Or lack thereof.”
Kate flinched, the arrow hitting its mark. Tyler smothered a rush of guilt. He fought the urge to cross the room and grab her, haul her against him, make her admit that she didn’t belong to anyone but him.
“I’m sorry.” She spread her hands, her brown eyes shadowed with distress. “My father has just always worried so much about me, especially when I moved out here. And he and my stepmother ask all the time about who I’m dating or what I’m doing with friends…and of course, I never have a good answer. So sometimes I fudge the truth a little, just to stop them from worrying. And last week after what happened in the library…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So when my father asked if I was dating anyone, your name just popped out.”
“Along with the lie that I’m a data analyst.”
“Well, I—”
“You couldn’t stop thinking about Norwood either, apparently.”
Guilt flashed across her face. Tyler turned, staring at the family photos that lined the fireplace mantel. Kate’s father was a tall, bearded man with a wide smile—the kind of man who likely wanted nothing but the best for his only daughter. Like Warren Stone wanted nothing but the best for all seven of his children.
Tyler ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. He couldn’t compete with an MIT grad who had his own company. He didn’t want to, either. Living with five older brothers had taught him that he was who he was. Yeah, he needed to get his shit together, but he couldn’t pretend to be a different person.
Not even if Kate wanted him to be.
If he dug deep enough, he knew exactly why she’d told her father he was a data analyst. What else was there? Hey, Dad, I’m dating the family fuckup Tyler Stone, who crashed a speedboat and now has to work at the Sugar Rush library to pay off the damage.
“I need to go.” He walked to the door. “I have some stuff to do.”
“Okay.” Bitterness laced her voice. “Let me know when you’re up for some fun again.”
Tyler left without looking back.
Chapter
EIGHTEEN
Tyler flopped onto his bed, his blood still simmering with frustration. He rested his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. No question this thing with Kate was a hell of a lot different than his previous fuck buddy relationships. Given the way he’d reacted the second he saw her, he should have known from the start that everything would be different with her.
Maybe he had known. Maybe that was why he’d agreed to this whole My Fair Lady deal in the first place. Because everything was different. She made him want all the things he’d never had—a girl who was a friend with more than just “benefits.” One whom he could talk to, hang out with, feel good around. A girl whose body he craved like an addiction. A girl who believed he was capable of more than anyone else thought. Even himself.
A knock sounded at the front door. Tyler groaned and went to answer it. If it were his jackass friends again…
Kate stood in the hallway, still dressed in her designer suit with her leather bag over her shoulder. She was also holding an old boom box. His heart did a somersault, wary hope rising in his chest.
“Hi,” she said. “Can I come in?”
Tyler stepped aside, pulling the door open wider to let her precede him. Kate set the boom box on the counter and glanced around. Embarrassment rose in him over the mess—beer cans and chip bags scattered over the tables, the counters cluttered with dirty dishes, unwashed T-shirts and socks strewn on the floor.
He braced himself for Kate’s disapproval, or even an outright scolding. Instead she plugged the boom box into an outlet and pointed to the sofa.
“Sit down.”
Tyler shoved a sweatshirt off the sofa and did as she ordered. His earlier frustration shifted to faint intrigue.
Was she going to lecture him about library sciences? Give him a quiz? In her tweed suit and gray pumps, she sure as hell looked the part of a sharp, put-together teacher. Maybe she’d whip a pointer out of her bag and order him to—
Kate hit the play button on the boom box. “Night Fever” burst from the speakers. She hesitated, taking a deep breath. Then she put her hands in front of her, like she was gripping ski poles, and started wiggling her hips and knees.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Dancing.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s called the Bunny Slope. Check this one out.” She shifted position and flapped her hands around in what appeared to be a bad imitation of a Jackie Chan martial arts sequence. “I did some research
and learned a few groovy disco moves. This is the Hustle.”
She launched into a marching beat, swinging her hips back and forth awkwardly.
Tyler laughed. Amusement and wild affection flooded him. “Darling, you’re a terrible dancer.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. Watch this.” She turned and put her hands on her knees, presenting him with her ass—perfectly displayed in the figure-hugging skirt. She arched her back and moved her ass up and down.
“What’s that one?” Tyler asked.
“Twerking.” She shot him a smile over her shoulder. “Not a disco move, but I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“Oh, I do.” He could have watched her bouncy version of twerking for hours, even if it did look like she was having a convulsion.
“This is The Robot.” She faced him again, tilting her head and putting her arms at ninety-degree angles. She jerked a few steps to the right, then the left. “The Funky Chicken.” She flapped her arms like wings and knocked her knees together. “And the famous Saturday Night Fever finale.”
She thrust her arm into the air, index finger pointing toward the ceiling, and came to a stop just as the song ended. Silence filled the air.
Tyler clapped.
Kate smiled, pushing a swath of hair away from her forehead. Her face was flushed with exertion, her eyes bright.
“So did you like it?” she asked.
“I loved it.”
I love you.
The confession flew right from his heart through his head, ricocheting around every part of him. He got to his feet and approached her. Uncertainty rose to her eyes when he took hold of her hips and pulled her closer.
“Can we please be okay again?” she asked.
He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. His heart felt astonishingly light.
“We’re okay, Darling. We were never really not okay.”
Relief flashed over her expression. She leaned her forehead on his chest. His head filled with her sugary scent. He wrapped his arms around her, locking her body against his.
“I’m so sorry, Tyler.”
“Forget it.” He tightened his hold on her. “I was pissed at first, but it would take a lot more than that to do us any real damage. I dig you way too much, foxy lady.”
She gave a muffled giggle. “You’re pretty far out yourself, cool cat.”
“You Sexy Thing” started on the boom box. Tyler moved his hands down to Kate’s ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“This is a slow disco dance.” He rocked her from side to side in time to the music. “Full body contact, lots of ass gripping, and the girl rubs herself all over the guy.”
“Hmm.” She shifted, pressing her breasts against him. “What’s it called?”
“The Tyler.”
Kate laughed. “No wonder it’s my favorite move of all.”
“One pepperoni, one everything.” Tyler returned to the living room, carrying two pizza boxes. He pushed aside the video game controllers on the coffee table before putting the boxes down.
“Do you live on takeout pizza?” Kate asked.
“Of course not.” He threw her a look of mild offence. “There’s also frozen pizza, fast food, potato chips, and sub sandwiches.”
Kate shook her head, but accepted the greasy slice of pizza he offered her. She wasn’t surprised by his bachelor pad apartment with its huge TV, foosball table, and massive speakers—not to mention the utter mess—but she liked it because it was his domain. His cave. And he’d let her in.
Tyler flopped beside her on the sofa. He reached for the remote and unpaused the Monty Python marathon they were watching. Kate curled her legs underneath her and bit into the pizza.
Messy apartment aside, she could get used to this. Sitting on the sofa with him, watching TV and eating pizza. Or having him over for a home-cooked dinner and board games before they moved into the bedroom for some raunchy fun.
She imagined spending her new “weekends off” with him, taking trips to Napa or Yosemite, driving his Trans Am along the winding coastal highway. Maybe even bringing him back to Wabash, where her father would drag Tyler over to the quarry and lecture him about the processes of extracting granite. She’d take him to the Pizza Pit and show him the proof of her still-standing highest score on Space Invaders.
And then they’d ride a fucking magical purple unicorn over a glittering rainbow and land on clouds made of cotton candy.
Kate set the paper plate down and wiped her fingers on a napkin. Fuck bud…okay, friends with benefits. They were not boyfriend and girlfriend. They were not dating. They were temporarily having fun.
Dammit. She still couldn’t believe her feelings for him had deepened so much, so fast. They’d only known each other for a week—a week!—and she was getting all dreamy about their future…when they didn’t even have one. Not together.
“More?” Tyler extended the open box toward her.
Kate shook her head. “I should head home.”
“Stay here.”
“With you?”
“No, I’ll go to a hotel,” he replied dryly. “You can stay here by yourself.”
She pinched his arm. “I have to be up early for work tomorrow.”
“I have an alarm clock.” Tyler popped the lid of a soda can and took a long swallow. “We’ll get you home in time to get ready, then we can go in to work together.”
Well, wasn’t that all warm and cozy? A pang speared through Kate’s chest. In the past, she’d pictured herself doing that exact kind of thing, but with a devoted businessman who’d ask her to fasten his cufflinks before they sat down for a breakfast of egg whites and toast spread with avocado.
She had never pictured waking up in a chaotic bachelor pad, eating cold pizza, and probably being late for work because a rakishly sexy hunk had seduced her in the shower. Pushing her right up against the tile wall and spreading her legs so he could plunge into her from behind.
A shiver ran down her spine. Truth be told, she desperately wanted the latter version of morning. For now.
“Okay.” She gave a casual shrug. “As long as I’m up by five.”
“You might not get any sleep at all, Miss Darling.” He edged closer to her, a gleam appearing in his dark eyes. “Your twerking was damned sexy. I need to see it again, except this time I want you to be naked.”
Kate smiled. Tyler lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m not joking,” he said.
Her heart bumped against her ribs. “I’m not twerking naked for you.”
“We’ll see about that.” He stood, wrapping his hand around her wrist. “Come on.”
Kate’s pulse sped up. She got to her feet, allowing him to lead her down the hall to his bedroom—which was no cleaner than the rest of the apartment with an unmade bed and rumpled clothes scattered everywhere.
But it was Tyler’s, and he was evident everywhere, from the framed prints of superhero movie posters and classic cars to the sci-fi novels on the bookshelf and the state-of-the-art computer.
He tugged her toward him, his eyes warming as he lifted his hands to cup her face. He lowered his mouth to hers, but in the instant before their lips made contact, Kate put her hand up to stop him.
“I’m really not twerking naked.”
He lifted his head and stepped away from her. For an instant, Kate thought he was annoyed, but then he grabbed the back collar of his T-shirt and yanked it over his head. Her breath caught. She loved looking at his muscular chest, all those sculpted muscles she couldn’t wait to touch again.
His gaze still on her, Tyler unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down. Kate’s whole body reacted to the sight of him almost naked, the impressive bulge of his cock resting alongside his thigh. He shucked off the boxer briefs, tossing them to the side. Then he stretched out on the bed, putting one hand behind his head and wrapping the other around his cock.
Kate bit her lip. Her sex was already starting to pulse. Tyler stroked himself, rubbing his hand up and down his thick shaft. She go
t downright wet.
“You want to try new stuff, right?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Have you ever ridden a guy before?”
“Probably.”
“So this is like that, except backward.”
Her stomach clenched. “Oh, no.”
“It’s called reverse cowgirl,” Tyler explained.
“I know what it’s called,” Kate replied a touch irritably. “I just don’t want to do it.”
“Why not?”
A flush rose to her cheeks. The truth was that she did want to do it—very much—but anxiety rose in her like a tidal wave. A big tidal wave. And not just because Tyler was stretched out on his bed like some sort of naked Greek hero with his muscles all rippled and sloping, his skin bronzed, and his dark hair rakishly tousled.
Oh yeah…and his hard cock sticking straight up like a sundial pointing the way straight to orgasmic heaven.
Kate shifted, rubbing her legs together. Her pussy clenched with longing. Her new designer suit felt heavy, like it was weighing her down. She fidgeted—crossing and uncrossing her arms, fiddling with a lock of her hair.
“Okay.” Tyler heaved a sigh and took his hand away from his erection. “I promised I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
He rolled over and reached for his boxer briefs.
“Wait,” Kate said quickly. “I guess…I mean, maybe I could try it.”
Tyler settled back on the bed, his eyebrow lifting as he took hold of his cock again. “Are you making a decision or not, Darling?”
He stroked up his shaft, rubbing his thumb around the tight head. She almost moaned aloud, her gaze locked to the sight of his fist moving up and down. Maybe if she were naked, he’d get distracted enough to the point that he wouldn’t care about having sex in that particular position.
“Yes, I’m making a decision,” she muttered.
“Atta girl.”
She’d told him she never backed out of a decision once she’d made it. She slipped out of her shoes and unzipped her skirt. Tyler’s hot eyes followed her every movement as she stepped out of the skirt and started unbuttoning her blouse. She was glad she’d had the foresight to put on her new lingerie before modeling the designer suits for him. The purple bra and panty set hugged her curves and plumped up her breasts in a way that made her feel powerfully sexy.
