She touched herself lightly with her fingers, tracing the contours of her tiny nipples. The puckered flesh stood in stark contrast to the smooth skin of her breast. Charlie had always wanted her to get a boob job but the more he pushed her, the more uncomfortable Eve had been with the idea. Her breasts might not be large, but they were hers and she worried they wouldn’t feel that way if she surgically enhanced them. Plus, why the hell did her man have to make her feel bad about herself? Why couldn’t Charlie love her the way she was?
Her fingers froze. But then Charlie hadn’t loved her, had he? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have run out and cheated on her with all those other women.
She started to lower her hands when the image of Ken smiling at her flashed through her mind. Was he the kind of man who would cheat on his woman? Or was he the kind who would come home after a long day in the office and rub her shoulders, work the tension out of her neck, let her loll her head back against him while he kissed her cheeks and gently stroked her breasts.
She began to play with herself again, imagining what it would be like to lie back in the younger man’s strong arms and feel that hard chest against her back. His lips would lightly kiss her cheek while his fingers traced light circles around her nipples just like hers were doing now. His cock would grow hard against her—first poking against the small of her back, then straightening out to press like a rod of molten iron against her spine.
She sighed and slid one of her hands lower, fancifully wishing Ken really was here to do this. Wondering what it would be like to feel his fingers pressing against her inner thigh or gliding up and down the length of her labia. She eased herself open and the hot water of the shower flowed down her arm, over her hand and right inside her sensitive flesh.
Eve shivered with pleasure and touched her clitoris.
Her whole body jerked in response, the muscle spasm tensing her entire body with suddenly intense excitement.
She pressed harder on her clit. Her breath coming in quick shallow gasps even as the water flowed more heavily down the front of her body, swirling smooth heat around her breasts, down her stomach and between her legs.
Why the fuck couldn’t Charlie have done this to her a little more often? All the time she’d taken care of him and he was out fucking his idiot bimbos with their big breasts and younger bodies. Why wasn’t he around when she needed him instead of making her dream about a hot young guy who was only waiting around for her because he felt bad she’d had car trouble on the way to this stupid wedding?
She continued to caress her clitoris, trying to push her body to greater excitement.
Why shouldn’t she think of Ken with those brilliant blue eyes and short blonde hair that any woman would love to run her hands through? Why shouldn’t she imagine his hard cock thrusting up between her legs while she clung tight to him, grinding herself on his pole, squeezing his dick between her thighs, biting hard on his shoulder while she—oh YES!
She curled in on herself as she came, her shoulder bumping against the wall of the shower stall as her fingers continued to franticly diddle her clitoris.
Her knees hit the shower floor and the water continued to pound on her spine, the steam filling her lungs as her chest heaved. Why the hell couldn’t she have someone like Ken? Who cared if she were forty-two with small breasts and he was…
She stopped touching herself as she recognized just how absurd her fantasy appeared. Ken was in his mid-twenties with a great body and brilliant looks. He could have any woman he set his sights on. He wasn’t going to be interested in a forty-two year old woman. What had happened between Kara and Rob was like winning the lottery. It wasn’t going to happen to her.
She knelt on the shower floor, careful to keep her head out of the spray. It was time to accept the reality of her crappy life. She’d blown her last real chance on Charlie and now she was destined to be alone. It sucked but there was really nothing she could do about it. She pulled herself together, stood, and finished her shower. Then she started toweling off.
She wished she had told Ken to go ahead and eat by himself. She knew he was trying to be kind to her but right now it felt a lot more like pity. Still, the worst thing she could do would be to mope her way through the evening. The only thing that could make her wretched life worse was to let people realize how truly pathetic she had become. Difficult as it would be, it was time to put her game face on and go out and appear to have a good time. She wasn’t going to bring down the wedding party, and she certainly didn’t want to do anything that would encourage Ken to feel sorry for her.
Ken looked up as Eve crossed the lobby toward him and tried to keep his lower jaw from bouncing off the floor. She was dressed in a tight black party dress and looked absolutely stunning. It was far more than her trim figure with those long smooth legs, tight waist and pleasant bust. There was elegance to her face, enhanced by the way her silver earrings dangled against her light brown skin that emphasized her sophistication. She didn’t even appear to realize how beautiful she was, or that men across the lobby were taking note of her as she passed them. Perhaps it was a good thing she had a boyfriend back home, Ken decided, because Eve was way out of his league.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she told him.
Ken rapidly stood. “No problem at all. Believe me, you are worth the wait.” He mentally kicked himself for saying something that sounded like a cheap pickup line, but really, Eve was gorgeous.
A peculiar expression momentarily touched her face and then flittered away. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” Ken admitted, although at this moment he would gladly forgo ever eating again if it meant spending more time with this woman. Why did the good ones always have to be taken?
“So let’s go find the restaurant,” Eve suggested.
Ken wanted to offer her his arm, but forced himself to keep his hands at his sides. He’d known guys who believed that any woman was fair game no matter who she was dating or married to, but he didn’t agree with them. It was a basic issue of respect. If he liked a woman enough to try and date her, he had to accept her decision to be in a committed relationship. He would never cheat himself and wouldn’t respect a woman who wanted to cheat with him. Besides, while a one night stand might be exciting while it was happening, it left a guy pretty lonely the day after.
He had too much experience with that…
They crossed the lobby to the hotel restaurant with Ken feeling particularly underdressed with Eve walking beside him. He’d liked her the moment he set eyes on her in her car, but he hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful under that winter coat and scarf. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering to her sleek legs. There was no point in getting himself worked up over a woman who was off limits, but it was hard not to glance down at those smooth stocking-clad calves.
“Table for two?” the hostess asked.
“Yes, please,” Ken agreed.
“This way please.”
Ken let Eve step in front of him as they followed the hostess to their table, again trying—and failing—to keep his eyes up where they belonged. The problem was that Eve’s ass was as perfect as her legs and it was way too easy to glance down and appreciate it.
The hostess stopped before their table and Ken hurried to pull Eve’s chair out for her. Then he took the seat directly across from her and accepted a menu from the hostess.
“Your waiter will be with you shortly,” the hostess said before making her way back to the front of the restaurant.
Ken hardly noticed her leave. Eve had the most beautiful brown eyes he ever remembered seeing. He felt like he could stare at them for hours. Her long lashes blinked and he suddenly realized Eve had said something.
With a start he noticed she had opened her menu and he quickly followed suit. “What was that, Eve? I’m sorry I didn’t catch what you said.”
“I was just wondering what you feel like eating?” Eve told him. A dimple formed at the corner of her mouth when she smiled, further distracting Ken.
/> He forced himself to look down at his menu. “I’m still thinking about it. What do you think?”
Eve’s smile broadened. “I bet you go for steak and potatoes. You men, you’re so predictable. The only real question is what cut of meat you’ll get.”
Ken lowered his menu to look into her gorgeous brown eyes. “I admit I’m leaning toward the sirloin.”
Eve laughed in delight. “See what I mean? Why don’t you live a little and try the rib eye?”
“I could do that,” Ken agreed. He liked this lighter side to Eve and wondered what had brought it on. Maybe before she’d just been a bit overwhelmed by her flat tire and the storm and now that she’d made it the hotel, felt she could relax and be herself.
The waiter appeared beside them. “Good evening. May I get you something to drink?”
“Actually, I think we’re ready to order,” Eve told him.
Her statement disappointed Ken, even hurt his feelings a little. “Are you in that big of a hurry to get rid of me?”
Eve reached across the table and touched his forearm. “Not at all! It’s just that we’re running late. The rehearsal dinner must be over by now and that means we have to get moving if we’re going to make our respective parties.”
She sat back in her chair and offered him a little smile that didn’t quite relate happiness. “You must be excited to get to yours after all the time you put into planning it.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Ken responded. He’d started off trying to sound nonchalant and cool, but realized as he said it that he really wasn’t looking forward to Ron’s bachelor party. Despite all the time he’d spent planning it, he’d far rather spend the rest of the evening talking with Eve. What was wrong with him anyway? Sure she was beautiful and he liked the way she smiled, but Travis said she was living with a guy. There was no future in this woman. Why not hurry and eat and go enjoy the show?
Beside them the waiter shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Ken took the hint. “I guess we can go ahead and order if you want to.”
For just a moment, Eve frowned. Ken couldn’t figure out what was going on in her head. “I’d like to try the rib eye cooked medium rare, and Eve here would like…” His voice trailed off as he waited for her to speak up.
She put the smile back on her face. “And I’d like to try the salmon.”
“Excellent choices,” the waiter said. “And to drink?”
“Does a carafe of the house red sound good to you?” Ken asked Eve.
“Oh I think that’s too much for a quick meal,” she told him. “Besides, you may be doing a lot of driving tonight.” She turned her attention to the waiter. “Let’s make that a half carafe. We can always order more if we need it.”
It suddenly hit Ken that Eve had figured out that he was interested and the knowledge made her uncomfortable. That was the real reason she was rushing the meal. Next she would try and pay the check to make it clear to him that this wasn’t a date.
The waiter nodded to Eve. “Very good, Ma’am. Would you like to have the dinner billed to your room?”
Ken didn’t feel comfortable with Eve paying for him. Hadn’t Travis said she was out of work? “That won’t be necessary. You can bring the check to me.”
“But I’m treating you because you fixed my tire,” Eve protested.
“Which Triple A would have done for free,” Ken reminded her. He decided, however, that he better reassure her that he wasn’t trying to get in her pants.
He leaned forward as she had done earlier and touched the back of her hand. “Hey, it’s not like we’re on date. We’re just two friends catching a quick bite to eat before we run to our respective parties.”
To Ken’s confusion, Eve frowned. “Of course.”
Ken wasn’t certain what he’d said wrong. “And I’m the one who suggested dinner, so let me pick up the check.”
Eve sat up a little straighter, pulling her hand away from Ken. “That’s very generous of you.”
Ken sat back in his chair, still unconsciously mirroring Eve’s actions. “Think nothing of it. You’re good company.”
Again, she frowned. What exactly wasn’t he understanding about this situation?
Chapter Four
Eve stared into the dregs of her wine glass—the first glass of their second half-carafe of wine—wondering why she had started telling this story. They’d been having a really good time, but she was blowing it now. Talking about how you had disappointed your parents had to be almost as bad as talking about your ex—not that this was a date or anything. “So you can imagine how they responded when I told them I was a majoring in accounting. My Mom actually cried and my father told me I was going to waste my mind.”
Ken reached across the table with the carafe and held it ready until she conceded and let him refill her glass. “That sounds pretty tough. Am I right in thinking that money was pretty tight growing up?”
Eve continued to stare into her glass. “What do you think? My mom is a novelist and my father a poet. They’re actually both pretty good if you like literary, artsy-fartsy kinds of writing, but neither one of them has ever had any sort of publishing success. My childhood was a never ending parade of hand-me-downs and rummage sales. I just wanted a little security in my life, and they told me I was selling out.”
She took a long pull at her wine, drinking it way too fast to enjoy the oaky flavor.
Ken put down his own wine glass as if he didn’t want anything distracting him from her story. “I must be missing something here. I don’t see how preparing yourself to hold a stable job is selling out.”
Somehow, Eve’s hand ended up in his across the table, his fingers lightly hooked into hers. The warmth of his flesh forged a nice counterpoint to the heat of the wine in her belly. “They think I sold my soul to the false god of Materialism.”
Ken’s fingers tightened on hers. “That is absurd! There is nothing wrong with making enough money to provide a decent living.”
She glanced up quickly but couldn’t meet his intense blue eyes. “Sometimes I think they’re happy I lost my job—like it’s evidence that the Man will beat you down even if you play his game.”
Ken slid out of his seat across the table from her and moved into the chair next to hers. He touched her chin with his finger, encouraging her to meet his gaze. “If they really are happy that you have a setback in your career, then they aren’t anything I would call parents.”
The intensity of Ken’s stare discombobulated Eve. She pulled back away from him and took another sip of her wine. “I got back at them,” she confided and then felt a small tremor of alarm over the secret she was about to share.
“What do you mean?” Ken asked.
Eve wet her lips and wondered if she should actually confide her secret. She didn’t have to tell him all of it, just enough to make her point. “They always told me that you had to be willing to give up everything to pursue your dream, as if their desire to write fiction and poetry justified the poverty they’ve lived in their entire lives. But I—”
She broke off and took another sip of her wine.
“You what?” Ken prompted her.
Eve wasn’t quite ready to tell him what she had done yet, so she zoomed around at the subject from a different direction. “They were always angry at me for becoming an accountant because they felt I had a real talent for writing. I won a couple of prizes in high school and managed to publish in my school lit mag in college, even though I was studying to be a lowly accountant.”
Ken nodded, obviously listening very intently to everything she was saying.
She tried to take another sip of wine but her glass was empty. Ken poured the rest of the carafe into her goblet. “They kept telling me when I joined my first accounting firm that I’d just strangled my talent and that I’d never write anything people wanted to read again.”
“That can’t be right,” Ken insisted.
Her mouth stayed dry no matter how much wine
she drank. “It’s what they said.”
“I’m not arguing with you. I’m just saying that I can’t believe that a day job would strangle your muse.”
“It didn’t,” Eve whispered.
Ken’s eyes flashed with sudden understanding. “You’re publishing, aren’t you? Your parents don’t know?”
A rush of empowerment accompanied Eve’s confession. “I use a penname. And while it’s not what they would call literature, I make a whole lot more money on it than they’ve earned from their collective muses in their entire lifetime.”
She sat back, unable to suppress the sudden wave of bitterness that flooded through her. “But that would just be another reason for them to belittle my accomplishments. Getting paid well for your work is another sign you’ve sold out.”
Ken laughed and picked up his wineglass. “Until they finally strike it lucky, huh? What a crock of shit!” He took a sip of his drink and then leaned forward again. “So tell me. What’s your penname? I’d love to read one of your stories.”
The real reason Eve had never told anyone she did this popped back into her head. “I don’t think I’m going to tell you that.” She wasn’t upset with herself for spilling the beans and she wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as she’d expected to be. In fact, she was having a bit of fun with the circumstances. Telling someone about her secret passion was cathartic and empowering.
Ken was clearly picking up on her good mood. “And why not?”
Eve decided to continue having fun with him—just to see how he would react. “Because the stories I write are very spicy, very explicit, very erotic romances.”
If she’d surprised Ken, he recovered quickly. “No way!”
His response confused her. Did he really not believe what she’d told him? “What do you mean, no way?”
Snowbound Bachelorette Party Page 3
