Wetwork

by Marie Harte

  “No.” She frowned. “He wasn’t around much. Honestly, he cheated on Ruth’s mom with my mom. My parents were never married.”

  “That had to make holidays awkward.”

  She blinked and started laughing. She laughed so hard she choked, then took a sip of water he pushed to her. “Thanks. Awkward. Well aren’t you the king of understatements.”

  He sighed. “That’s me.” Her grin mesmerized him. “I can’t help it. Even choking you’re gorgeous. Sorry, had to say it.”

  Flustered yet seeming pleased, she composed herself and drank the rest of her wine. “So anyway, my dad’s behavior is why I tolerate Ruth’s. She’s just a scared kid with a mom who’s not the greatest.”

  “And she’s dating that dirtbag Scott. No wonder you’re trying to help her.”

  “Yeah.”

  After a moment of shared silence, he winced. “Boy, I’m a real downer, aren’t I?”

  She smiled. “Not at all. It’s nice to talk to someone who understands.”

  And she did. He could tell she wasn’t saying anything to make him feel better. The woman had been through the same grieving and loss he had. Their experiences with grief further increased the intimacy between them.

  He toyed with his napkin. “So enough of depressing topics. Are you dating anyone right now?”

  “Ah, what?”

  “I would think not, since you’re out with me. But I can’t understand how someone so smart, pretty, and capable isn’t taken yet.”

  “Now you’re just being nice.”

  “See? Maggie was right. I’m a nice guy.” He stared at her lips. “But not too nice when it counts.” Her small exhale was music to his ears. “You hungry for dessert?”

  “I’m stuffed.”

  “How about a walk then?”

  “Okay.”

  He refused to let her pay for anything, though she tried to give him her credit card. They left and strolled down to the market, which had considerably emptied from its busy state earlier in the day.

  “I don’t come down here much,” she admitted.

  He saw her shiver. He’d put a coat on after dinner, feeling the temperature lower. The one thing about Seattle he didn’t like—the cold, wet weather. Taking her hand, he put it in the crook of his arm. She settled closer to him, not distancing herself, and her acceptance warmed him.

  “Me either. I’m usually too busy for shopping.”

  She nodded. “I’m not the shopping type either. Maggie thinks it’s sad, but I only have five pairs of shoes.”

  He laughed. “Me too. But three of those are old running shoes I can’t bear to throw away.”

  After some time in companionable silence, she asked, “What do you do for fun?”

  “Well, if we’re not counting dinner with a pretty blond—you, not me,” he added to lighten the mood, “I enjoy running and hitting the gym. Of course, I have an in with the owner of Jameson’s.” Mac, his future brother-in-law, ran the place. “Plus Maggie still teaches aerobics there. Oh, and I like soccer. Sometimes the guys from the office have pick-up games at an indoor sports complex. What about you?”

  “I’m not much of an athlete, though I was a gymnast growing up. That stayed with me. I like moving around on a mat, I guess. But I haven’t done that in ages.”

  His heart raced. “So you’re saying you’re flexible, hmm? Bendy?”

  “Geesh. Why is that always such a guy response?”

  “We’re simpleminded, that’s why.” He chuckled. “Now I’m dying to see you do a cartwheel.”

  “Not in this cold.” She shivered again.

  He pulled her closer, glad for the chill. “This is going to sound bad, but how about coming back to my place for coffee and dessert? We’ve walked off dinner, and I made an attempt at impressing you. I swear I’ll be good. I’m only offering food. Hands free.” He lifted his free hand to show his innocent intent.

  She stopped and turned to study him, looking him up and down. “Well, okay. But I’m seriously not going with you for anything more than coffee. I mean, I’m not teasing or anything.” She groaned. “I’m so not good at dating and flirting. This is why I’m single, since you wanted to know.”

  “You’re an honest woman. I like that. You say what you mean.”

  “Well, yeah.” She squeezed his arm and let him lead her back to the car. “So if you’re okay with just spending time together with our clothes on, I’m happy to go with you.”

  Yet her gaze flickered down the front of him, lingering on his crotch.

  “I won’t promise not to ask for a kiss,” he warned. “But I’ll ask. You can say no…if you can resist these eyes.” He made pathetic faces at her, and she laughed.

  “You’re funny, Trevor. I hadn’t expected that.”

  They entered the car and drove to his place, and he prayed he wouldn’t screw up part one in his plan to seduce Emma. He couldn’t fail at this, not and survive the worst case of blue balls ever to plague man.

  Chapter Five

  Emma had no idea what prompted her to say yes or be so bold with Trevor, but she was glad she’d taken that step. She wanted to spend more time with him. He’d charmed her into feeling easy with him, and she loved that her bouts of shyness didn’t seem to bother him. He freely admitted to wanting to kiss her, but she felt she could trust him to respect her boundaries.

  Once inside the large Victorian’s communal foyer, he showed her to his door.

  “My neighbor takes up the right side of the building. I’m here on the left. It’s Maggie’s townhouse, actually. I’m subletting while I get a feel for the area.”

  She imagined he’d made a nice living as a financial consultant but didn’t intend to pry into his finances. He hadn’t blinked about paying for their dinner, and that she appreciated. Emma was by no means rich. She scraped by paycheck to paycheck, but the bakery had finally started to see a profit. Thank God.

  Inside his home, she noted the open floor plan. A small living and dining area combined, connected to the kitchen through a pass-through. The furniture looked lived in and comfortable, but not high-end. Hmm. This was her kind of place.

  Trevor put his hands on her shoulders, and she tensed.

  “Your jacket?”

  She gave it to him, bereft when he let her go to hang it in the front closet. Now feeling a bit nervous, she watched him with caution.

  He saw and shook his head. “Tsk tsk. Trust me, little mouse.”

  “Mouse?” Offended, she placed her hands on her hips and tried to look taller.

  “More like a spitting kitten,” he said with a grin. “You’re so cute. That gorgeous blond hair, those dark eyes… I want that kiss, sweetheart.”

  His thick voice sounded demanding, yet he stood there, waiting. Leaving it up to her.

  She relaxed. Trust him, her conscience told her.

  “Well?” he asked, his smile irresistible. “Come take advantage of me, and I’ll give you a homemade brownie. Even better than one of yours, I’ll bet.”

  “Oh?” A challenge. She liked that.

  So did he, by the sparkle in his blue eyes. “Yeah. One kiss, one brownie. If you think mine is better than yours, I get another kiss. If not, I have to rub your feet for you. And no, I don’t have a foot fetish.” He made a face. “My sister is big on foot rubs for losing a bet. And don’t tell her, but her feet gross me out.”

  She laughed. “Maybe mine will too.”

  “Nah. You’re petite.”

  “I’m the same size as Maggie.”

  “No, you’re not.” His voice deepened. “Trust me. I don’t think of you and my sister as alike at all.”

  “Oh?”

  “Other than that you both have blond hair, you’re totally different.” He gave her a lingering onceover that brought back her butterflies. This time, in a good way.

  Her nervous excitement made her giddy, not nauseous. She closed the distance between them and motioned for him to bend down. “I can’t reach you.”

  “
No problem.” He leaned down, looking so much larger than her. Then he wrapped his arms around her, not holding her too tight, but supporting her. “Kiss me. I confess I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

  It felt like a dream, that a man like Trevor, who could probably snap his fingers and have any woman fall at his feet, would want her. But since she doubted she’d get a second date with the man, she wanted to take advantage of him—the situation.

  Flushed and wanting, she reached up and drew his head down. She wanted to sink her fingers into his soft blond hair in need of a cut. So she stroked his nape and felt his shudder.

  He watched her, not closing his eyes for the kiss, which made her tremble. She didn’t back down though. Instead, she pulled his mouth to hers and planted a whisper-light kiss on his firm lips.

  Like fine wine, he tasted decadent. He let her lead the kiss, not pulling her closer but waiting for her to do the work. Though he remained still, she had no doubt he allowed her to be in charge. As he’d promised, Trevor hadn’t done anything improper, giving her no reason to think he might overwhelm her.

  Except he did. The taste of him went straight to her head. She wanted to rub up against him, to feel the hard muscle of him all over her body. Her breasts ached, and her nipples strained against the silky cups of her bra. How amazing to be so turned on by a simple kiss. Maybe she’d been too long without a man. But she didn’t think kissing John or any of her regular male customers would be like this.

  Trevor groaned into her mouth, his breath hot, his tongue brushing against hers and sending a shockwave through her system. Then he pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers.

  “Jesus. Hold on.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re addictive. Better than your cookies,” he said in a low rumble.

  Pleasure stole through her as she enjoyed his embrace. So what if her body felt on fire. She knew it was for the best that they slow down. Didn’t she?

  He drew back and stared down at her, and she wondered what he saw. “Let’s get that brownie for you.” He turned and went into the kitchen, and she sagged against his couch, needing the support to remain upright.

  What a kiss.

  Her brain remained in a fog even as he returned bearing the brownie on a plate. He wore a wry grin. “I already had my dessert.” A glance at her lips confirmed he meant her. “And I want seconds. Go ahead. I dare you to tell me this is not the best brownie you’ve ever tasted.”

  Now curious, she noted the rich color and dark scent drifting her way. Chocolate and mint. Her favorite combination. Well, excluding the heady taste of Trevor. He spooned a bit and offered it to her, his gaze intent.

  She opened her mouth and took it, experiencing so much more than mere taste under his watchful eye. Trevor made eating seem like a prelude to sex. Heck, he made breathing erotic, because feeling his warm breath against her lips had been akin to foreplay.

  “Well?” he asked and took a bite himself, eating off the same fork.

  As she chewed, she realized he had indeed bested her. “This is amazing.”

  His satisfaction was evident by the smirk on his handsome face. “Oh yeah, it is. Almost as tasty as that kiss.” He cut her another bite and fed it to her. “So I get another kiss?”

  Again, not pushing, but asking her.

  “I suppose…”

  At her teasing reluctance, his smile faded. “I’m just playing around, Emma. You really don’t have to—”

  “No. It’s okay. I want to.”

  The big man trying to put her at ease broke down another barrier trying to keep her from falling for him. For once, nice didn’t make her want to run in the other direction. Nothing about Trevor made him seem like a push-over. He acted respectful while still being forceful. So different from her past exes.

  “You want to? Not as much as I do.” He set the plate and fork on the table and guided her to the couch. There he sat her over his lap, positioning her like a ragdoll over him. “Damn, you weigh nothing. You sure you ate dinner?”

  She grinned. “Flatterer.” How nice of him not to mind her growing backside.

  “Seriously. You’re little.” His gaze moved from her face to her breasts and he sighed. “Not little everywhere though. Not where it counts.” He gripped her thighs and kept his hands there. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m dying to touch you, Emma. But I don’t want to rush you, and I sure the hell don’t want you lighting out of here. Be with me because you want to. Like I said, I’m not about forcing you.”

  Which disappointed her a bit. She did want to be mastered. But she’d only just met Trevor, and she couldn’t bear freaking him out with her perverse desires, only to have him rush to Maggie and tell her what a pervert Emma was.

  “What’s that look?” He cupped her face.

  His rough fingers stroked her skin, arcing little jolts of pleasure where he touched.

  “N-nothing.”

  “Not nothing. Tell me,” he demanded.

  The bark of an order had her automatically responding. “I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

  His voice softened. “Sweetheart, why would I?”

  “Well, I, ah, I don’t mind if you want to tell me what to do a little. You know, you could be a little bossy and kiss me.”

  His eyes crinkled. “I could, hmm?” He gripped her thighs tighter. “Maybe…”

  “Trevor?”

  “But not tonight. I want you comfortable with me.”

  Not tonight…implying there would be another time? “So we’ll date again and then you’ll tell me what to do?”

  “Oh, we’ll date again. You can bet on it.”

  She felt warm all over. Happy. So happy she leaned down and plastered her mouth to his, letting go of inhibitions to show him what she really wanted. A master, a lover to guide her and demand her submission. She started strong, then forced him to bring her to heel.

  And he did, beautifully. What began as her assertive take on the kiss ended with him cupping her head, gripping her hair, and grinding her over him. She was so wet her panties would need a good washing, and she loved every second of it. Especially because he gripped her thighs so hard he’d probably leave marks. And the bite of pain felt exquisite.

  When she finally pulled back, they both breathed hard.

  “Damn,” he muttered, grimacing when she rocked over him. “I think we’d better sit up.”

  “Oh?” She kissed him again, loving the hitch in his breath.

  “You’re naughty, aren’t you?” He finally let go of her legs and wrapped his massive arms around her back, holding her close. “I can’t wait to kiss you again. But not now, or I’ll forget myself.”

  “What will you forget?” she wanted to know.

  “That I’m a nice guy.” He grinned, but she saw nothing nice and everything predatory in the expression.

  “But I lost the bet.”

  “Don’t be a sore loser,” he said and muffled an expletive when she rubbed against him in her attempt to get off his lap. “That kiss was…well, better than your brownie.”

  “It was.” She stood and frowned. “Wait. My brownie?”

  “So maybe I cheated.” His grin was infectious, and she had to laugh. “I bought that at your place earlier today. Good, huh?”

  “You fraud.” She thought it had tasted familiar, but so taken by Trevor, she hadn’t paid the sweet as much attention as she normally would.

  “Yeah. You need to get back at me. Make me pay. How about dinner tomorrow, my place? I’ll throw in that foot rub.”

  “You want to cook for me?” Ideal. That way she could take a break after a long work day. Plus, here at his house, she could avoid Ruth and spend more time with Trevor. Oh my God. A second date with the hunky Trevor Doran. Pinch me, I’m dreaming.

  “You say that like you don’t believe I can.” He chuckled. “I was going to order us something, but now I’m going to make something for you. I swear, no more cheating.”

  “Okay, but I’m counting on a grea
t foot rub.”

  He stood and subtly rearranged himself in his pants, and she quickly turned away so that he wouldn’t see her drooling over him. “Hey, this is your fault. Sorry but it’s difficult to walk with wood. Er, when a guy’s aroused.”

  “Sure, right.” She moved to get her jacket, knowing she had to leave. That or jump his bones, and that would ruin her “good girl” image for sure.

  He took her in his arms for a hug and a kiss to her cheek. The feel of being surrounded soothed her, as did his hand stroking her hair. “Come on, sexy. Let’s get you home. I know you’re an early riser.”

  “And you have work tomorrow too, I’m sure.” She rode back with him to her house, relaxed, aroused, and more content than she’d been in a long while. When he pulled in front of her duplex and walked her to her door, she felt moved by his gentlemanly behavior. “Trevor, I had a really good time tonight.”

  “Me too.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “Just…You’re not out with me because your sister made you or anything, are you?”

  He laughed out loud and hugged her again. “I love Maggie, but dating for her? Nope. Not my M.O.”

  She blew out a breath of relief. “Good.”

  “I’m nice but not that nice.” His smile left, and he watched her with darkening eyes. “Now that you’re starting to know the real me, you’ll see how much fun we can have together.” His hand rose to circle her neck, the pressure around her throat arousing in the extreme.

  Trevor just watched her. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “T-Trevor?”

  He kissed her cheek, lingering, and let go of her neck. “I’ll pick you up from Sweets n’ Tweets tomorrow. Will that work?”

  “Sure. Six o’clock okay?”

  “Perfect.” He waited for her to unlock her door. “’Night, Emma. Sweet dreams.”

  “Bye. Thanks, Trevor.”

  She closed the door, then looked through the nearby window to watch him leave. Everything about him screamed sexy, from the way he moved to the way he smelled to the way he touched her. Sweet dreams, he’d said. More like erotic dreams with him as the starring attraction. She sighed and readied for bed, wondering if Trevor had ruined her for her vibrator.