Absolutely Not

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  Suddenly remembering the two phrases from her wine class, Maisy buried her face in her hands. “Oh, I could just die.” Peeking up at him through spread fingers, she said, “I am so embarrassed. You must think I’m an idiot.”

  “Nothing of the kind. With legs like those, it’s a natural mistake for you to make.” Gingerly peeking beneath the table, he winked up at her and jiggled his eyebrows. “And this time I’m definitely referring to yours, Maisy.”

  Maisy held her glass aloft, studying the contents and taking a sip. Nibbling her bottom lip, she sheepishly glanced up at him. “I’ve got a little confession to make, Keller.”

  “Really?” Keller gave her a twinkly-eyed smile that telegraphed his amusement. “And just what might that be, Ms. Morganfield?”

  “I’m a fake. You probably couldn’t tell, but to be honest, I know next to nothing about wine.”

  Keller’s smile spread. “Is that so?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Maisy heaved a sigh. “I heard the tidbit about cabernet being compatible with chocolate on one of those food shows on TV or read it somewhere.”

  “I see.”

  “And you know those comments about the currants, the oak, the spice, the earthiness?” He nodded and Maisy swallowed hard. “I, uh, I was trying to be cosmopolitan.” She offered a meager smile. “I heard all that stuff at the wine tasting class Norman took me to. I really do like this wine though.” Maisy held her glass high and grinned. “I didn’t at first but this wine is really pretty damn good once you get used to it.”

  She drained her glass, glanced up at Keller with a sheepish smile and hiccupped. “More please.”

  “Must be because it’s a dry wine versus a wet wine,” he said as he refilled her wineglass from the second bottle…

  “That must be it.” She sipped and hiccupped again. “Did we finish that whole bottle already?” she asked, pointing to the original wine bottle.

  “We did.” Clearly no longer able to contain his laughter, Keller scooted his chair closer, wrapping his arm around Maisy’s shoulder. “You know, your wet wine comment kind of clued me in early on.”

  “Really? But, I thought Norman said…”

  “Wines are either dry or sweet. That’s where you got mixed up.” Keller gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  “And here I thought I was being so smooth.” Burying her head in her hands, Maisy heaved a pained growl.

  “Hey, don’t feel bad. You did some pretty good bluffing for a novice.” Keller pulled Maisy’s hands from her face and lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Of course, I had to take some points off your score for the champagne comments.”

  “Guess I should have stopped while I was ahead, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.” Keller nodded.

  “It sounds like you’re quite a wine connoisseur,” Maisy observed, sipping from her glass. And why wouldn’t he be? She imagined most guys who had their own personal limo driver and lived in a penthouse in the city and had a house in the country probably did know a thing or two about fine wine.

  “Pick up the wine bottle and take a look at it.”

  She did, taking a moment to focus because things were just a bit blurry. With a gasp she read the words on the label. “Keller’s Cellars!” She angled him a cautious smile. “Wait a minute… This Keller is you?”

  He fished through his pocket and retrieved a small black case engraved in gold with the words Keller’s Cellars. He opened it and handed her one of the business cards.

  Squinting to read it, she mumbled the words to herself until she came to the part that read, Keller Fitch, Proprietor and Winemaker. “Oh my gosh, it is you!”

  “In the flesh.”

  “Well that’s just great. As if I didn’t feel like enough of a moron already.” Taking another sip of cabernet, she shook her head. “That’ll teach you not to put on airs, Mazel Lynn.” She punctuated her thought with another hiccup.

  Keller flinched. “Mazel Lynn?”

  Frowning, Maisy looked at Keller. He looked sort of wavy so she blinked a few times. “Did I say that out loud?” Keller nodded with a bemused smile. “Well, just pretend I didn’t,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Gee, you know, Keller, I think this wine’s starting to affect me.”

  “If you’re not used to drinking wine it’s probably best to take it slow,” he advised.

  Maisy reached out to finger his tie. “So that’s why your tie is printed with little wine bottles all over it, huh?” Keller nodded. “Very clever. But I thought wine only came from California or France or other far-off places. I never heard of vineyards in Chicago.” Her fingers tiptoed from the tie’s knot down to its pointed tip. She was tempted to explore farther down.

  “I have grapes shipped in from Oregon’s wine country and from the Napa Valley and Monterey in California, in sealed, refrigerated trucks. My other sources include orchards in Michigan, Wisconsin, Illinois, California and Washington State for the fruit wines.”

  “Fruit wines?”

  “Uh-huh, apple, peach, strawberry, cherry…I’ve experimented with quite a variety of fruits. Even won a few awards here and there.” He smiled proudly as he postured, blowing on his fingernails and polishing them against his lapel.

  Maisy studied Keller’s business card again, doing her best to focus in on the small print. “Naperville, Illinois. So your winery,” she glanced at the card again, “Keller’s Cellars, is in DuPage County, right outside Chicago. Are you in one of those corporate parks?”

  “Hell no.” Keller gave a noticeable shudder. “It’s in the older area, near the historic district, where there are lots of tree-shaded streets and beautiful old homes with character.”

  “What kind of building is it—where you make the wine, I mean?” Maisy found this all absolutely fascinating. She found him absolutely fascinating.

  “The winery’s located in one of those gingerbready Victorian mansions. It’s been rehabbed and updated, but still maintains its old-world charm. I must say I’m pretty proud of the place—did a lot of the rehab work myself.”

  “Oh I love those old Victorians, especially when they’re cared for and restored. I get sad when I see nineteenth-century buildings being demolished to make way for modern sprawl, like shopping malls or parking garages. It’s like losing a valuable piece of history.”

  “I feel the same way,” Keller agreed. “I’m all for growth, technology and advancement, but not at the cost of razing those intricate painted ladies. When I found this property several years ago I knew it was perfect.”

  “Does the winery take up the entire house?”

  “No, I live on the second floor, the offices and retail shop are on the first floor and the winery itself, with all the barrels and vats, is underground. We offer wine tastings for a nominal fee and conduct tours of the winery on weekends. I’d love to give you a personal tour of the winery sometime, Maisy. Would you like that?”

  Struggling with her inner but-he’s-Sharon’s-brother conflict, Maisy furrowed her brow and studied the tabletop as she flicked at a tiny sesame seed. Logic and common sense told her she absolutely should not see him again. However, due in part to her ingestion of Keller’s wine, common sense seemed to have taken flight.

  “Yes. Yes I’d like that very much, Keller,” she said, already fighting back remorse. She couldn’t help herself from agreeing, dammit. She had to see him again.

  Keller broke into a satisfied smile. “That’s great. We’ll even conduct our own private wine tasting session. I think you’ll find it all very interesting.”

  “Well, as you witnessed earlier,” Maisy laughed, “I do believe I could stand a little wine education.” Weaving slightly from left to right, she narrowed one eye to focus better on Keller.

  “In that case, I’m your man.”

  “Mmmm, in any case, you’re my man.” Resting her chin on her hand, Maisy gazed at Keller, taking in each chiseled angle and sinfully sexy curve of his handsome face. Eyes suddenly wide, she froze, silently praying she hadn’t just verbal
ized her innermost thoughts.

  Observing the surprised arch of Keller’s eyebrow, she groaned. “Oh boy. Tell me I did not just say that out loud.” She sucked back another gulp of wine.

  “Say what? I didn’t hear anything,” he answered in gallant fashion, making her feel a wee bit better. “We were talking about wine, weren’t we?”

  “Yes.” Maisy nodded, intently hoping she could avoid making any more of an ass of herself than she already had. “Good idea. Let’s talk about the wine. Please.”

  “We’ll turn you into a wine expert in no time.” Keller kept his gaze locked on Maisy’s. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes quite that color. They’re almost sapphire.” He smoothed a cluster of curls from Maisy’s face. Leaning in a bit closer, he whispered, “Beautiful. Like two exquisite, radiant jewels.”

  A delicious prickle feathered through her clit and she leaned in closer too. “Thank you, Keller.” She breathed in his clean, masculine scent as he neared. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Fully aware of the impending kiss, she forced herself to break eye contact and back away.

  “Norman says they’re Prussian blue.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head because it sounded like such a brainless thing to say. But he made her nervous, dammit. And all red-hot and juicy with excitement. The only time she’d felt like this before was the first time she had her Duo-Head Maximum Power Thruster vibrator in her hand and masturbated herself senseless.

  That sort of feeling was most definitely not supposed to be happening in connection with Sharon Fitch’s brother.

  The corners of Keller’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. He straightened and filled their glasses. “Prussian blue…I like that. Let’s toast to Norman.” He lifted his glass, clinking it against Maisy’s.

  She gazed absently at her wine. “You didn’t slip anything in here, did you?” she slurred. “Like an aphrodisiac.”

  “No, why? Do you feel especially amorous?” Keller’s voice was deeper and smokier than the wine.

  “Nope.” She hiccupped. “I’m frigid.”

  Keller burst out laughing. “What?”

  Maisy shrugged. “That’s what John always told me.” She glugged from her glass.

  “John was an idiot,” Keller stated flatly. Smoothing one knuckle across her cheek, he gazed into her eyes. “All I have to do is look at you, sweetheart, to know you’re not frigid. A little tipsy but certainly not frigid.”

  “Oh, it’s true. I don’t like sex. Well,” she shrugged and dissolved into a drawn-out giggle, “unless I’m having it by myself.” She blinked a few times. “Oops…that’s another thing I didn’t say out loud.” She winked and Keller winked back.

  “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  Studying his incredible chocolate drop eyes, Maisy sighed… They glistened the way semisweet chocolate does when it’s melted and stirred. Deep and dark with a rich, sparkling luster.

  “Chocolate?”

  “Oh yeah…you can say that again,” Maisy said dreamily.

  Keller slanted her a puzzled look as he held a little box of Belgian chocolates under Maisy’s nose. “What?”

  Snapping herself back to reality, Maisy felt the color rise in her cheeks for the umpteenth time that afternoon as she looked down at the box Keller held in his hand. “Oh, you mean these,” she said, helping herself to a piece as she gulped down some more wine and smiled in surprise. “Mmm, the cabernet really does go good with chocolate.”

  “Why do I feel like I’m missing here?”

  Waving her hand, Maisy said, “Don’t mind me. I was just thinking about something else for a minute.” A husky chuckle tripped past her lips.

  “Like what?”

  She wagged her finger at Keller. “Never mind.”

  “I bet you were thinking the same thing I was.” Keller brushed his lips across her ear.

  “I doubt that.” Maisy laughed. “Unless you’re gay.” She gave him a pointed look. “You’re not, are you?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  “That’s good because I was thinking what it would feel like to have a magnificent hunk of man like you take me in his big strong arms and kiss me until my eyeballs jiggled.” She grinned. “Is that what you were thinking?”

  “Goddamn, Maisy Morganfield, you’re killing me.”

  Keller yanked her close, crushing her against his chest and kissing the bejeezus out of her. It was a kiss just like the ones in those steamy, erotic books Norman had given her, when tongues lashed and tangled and danced and the woman’s pussy got all juicy and her bosom heaved until she screamed Fuck me! over and over again.

  Yeah…just like that.

  When she felt her eyeballs jiggle Maisy moaned a sigh into Keller’s mouth. Oh this was no good. No good at all. She popped one eye open and glanced at her wineglass. It was the wine! The wine was making her feel like this. She had to get rid of it. With that thought in mind, Maisy abruptly broke the kiss, drained her glass, cleared her throat and blinked a couple of times. “All gone,” she announced with grin.

  “Oh boy,” Keller said.

  “I’m not used to having this much wine all at once. I feel kind of…smooshy.” Maisy let out an extended giggle.

  “Just what I need. A smooshy giggler.” Keller took Maisy’s empty glass and set it on the table. “You’ve got quite a wine blush there, Maisy. You downed that cabernet pretty fast. I think you may be just a bit inebriated.”

  “Just a smidgen, perhaps.” Maisy held her thumb and finger an inch apart. “What’s a wine blush?”

  “A lot of fair-skinned people like you get all red in the face when they drink wine.”

  “Oh,” she said with disappointment. “And here I thought I was blushing because you were about to make my eyeballs jiggle again.” Maisy surrendered to another fit of giggles. Jutting her neck forward, she tapped her lips. “Kiss me again. Let’s see what else you can do with that wonderful tongue of yours.”

  “Oh honey, you have no idea.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of intoxicated women.”

  “The logical Maisy agrees with you but the smooshy Maisy says kiss me, baby.” She grabbed Keller’s hand, holding it up to hers, comparing the size difference. “You have such nice, big strong hands,” she gushed. “Let’s put one here.” She planted one of his hands behind her waist. “And the other one here…” She positioned it on her shoulder, closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

  “You are magnificent, Maisy,” Keller whispered before brushing a quick kiss across her lips. “Common sense told me getting mixed up with my sister’s husband’s ex may not be the wisest idea, but damn, you’re just too spectacular to pass up.” Keller sifted his fingers through her hair. “God, you’re breathtaking.”

  “Well?” Maisy said, peeking at him through one eye.

  “Well, what?”

  She opened both eyes and shot him an impatient look. “Well, are you just going to sit there blabbing like you did in my medieval dream,” she made a yakking motion with her hand, “or are going to kiss me again?”

  “Oh sweetheart,” Keller caressed her with his eyes, “if you only knew how much I want to do that—and more—but you’re not in any condition right now.”

  Outraged, Maisy jumped to her feet, teetering a bit as she threw her arms out to the side. “What’s wrong with my condition? Do you think I’m fat? Is that why you don’t want to kiss me?”

  “No, Maisy, I—”

  Maisy shuffled backward, losing her balance and falling onto the curtained bed.

  “Oh!” When she realized where she was she gave a lazy smile, offering Keller a come-hither look and wiggling her fingers at him in invitation. “Kellllerrrr,” she called in a singsong voice. “I have an idea…”

  Keller slanted her a cautious look. “Maisy…” he warned.

  With a smile both deliberate and sultry, her gaze dropped to the front of his slacks… She licked her lips. “Come on.” Touching h
erself, she ran her hands down her sides and belly before stretching and purring like a kitten. “Let’s play sheik and captive slave girl.”

  Eyes widening, Keller’s chest expanded with a cavernous breath. “Well, damn. I’m not made of iron for chrissakes,” he said in a low, sexy rumble as he unknotted his tie, yanked it from his neck and accepted Maisy’s enticing summons.

  Chapter Seven

  Keller watched the tantalizing rise and fall of Maisy’s full breasts. The feral part of him ached with the need to tear the sweater from her chest, rip her bra off and see for himself if she looked half as good as he’d imagined.

  He had a hunch she looked even better. And now he was a mere few inches from finding out. From suckling her breasts, rasping his tongue over her beaded nipples, taking them in his teeth and biting, driving her insane with sweet torture.

  But gentlemen didn’t take advantage of their inebriated guests. Regardless of how goddamn fucking gorgeous or enticing they were.

  Squirming on the bed, Maisy wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged. Christ. She was warm and wiggly and, sonuvabitch, he really needed to see what was under that butter-soft sweater. Those ripe breasts of hers were close. So close. Groaning, Keller’s balls tightened and his cock began a steady, insistent throb.

  Since he’d first seen her at the funeral parlor he’d dreamed of taking her, thrusting himself into her depths. And then at the restaurant when she gave him that high and mighty act it was all he could do not to drag her into the parking lot, slam her sweet ass on the trunk of his car and fuck her senseless.

  In fact, thoughts of fucking the luscious blonde had his primal urges surging to the surface. Because of Maisy, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time circling his fingers tight around his cock and stroking himself to completion. Fuck. She’d managed to reduce him to the level of a horny, testosterone-driven teenager, for chrissakes.

  And now here she was, all soft, sweet and compliant. Intoxicated and obviously horny as hell, presenting herself to him, inviting him to sample her lush, womanly attributes.