by Gary, Codi
The sight had him gripping the wet towels hard, little droplets escaping between his fingers to drop on the floor. She stood up with an armful of dry clothes and put them in the laundry basket on top of the machine. He watched her transfer the laundry out of the washer; such a mundane chore, but in her wet robe, with its peek-a-boo neckline . . . it made him look at washing clothes in a whole new way.
In fact, it made him think about taking her by the waist, turning her around to face him, and lifting her up onto the dryer. Kneeling in front of her, he’d slip those shapely thighs over his shoulders and . . .
“Thanks for the help,” she said, breaking into his wicked daydream to take the wet towels from him. “I’m really glad you were here or that might have taken me a lot longer. If that floor got ruined, I would have had to kick my own butt.”
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t made of stone. And when Katie bent over again to toss the last of the towels in, he started to reach for her, but she was already standing on her tip toes, trying to get something from the cupboard above the dryer. Chase couldn’t stop himself from moving behind her, pressing against her back as he whispered, “It was my fault. I distracted you.”
Leaning over and kissing her shoulder, he ignored her stiffening body and slid his arm around her waist, gently trailing kisses up her throat and nuzzling her ear. “If you want me to go, I will. Or I can stay, and make you feel good. Even if you aren’t ready to take the next step in our . . . arrangement.”
What made him offer he had no idea, except that at that moment, he would do anything just to touch her.
His other hand crept up to play with her breast through the satin of her robe, and Katie didn’t stop him. She actually melted back against him as he slid her robe off one shoulder and licked at her warm skin. He slipped his hand inside, skimming his finger teasingly over her skin. Using his thumb and forefinger, he played with her hard nipple until soft moans met his ears. Chase opened his palm and squeezed her gently, loving the soft texture of her breast.
Rubbing against her, he ran his other hand down her body until his finger found the folds of her femininity already wet. He slipped his finger inside, over her clit, and she moaned. He kept kissing wherever he could reach as he massaged and stroked her, and he watched her hands grip the side of the dryer until her knuckles were white. He tugged and tickled her as she rocked back against his teasing fingers.
It was the hottest thing he’d ever done with anyone.
It wasn’t just that she had perfect-sized breasts or that her little noises were soft and eager. Or that she smelled amazing and the taste of her skin was heady. It was when she let go of the dryer and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, arching against him as she came, that he wanted to come with her. Be with her.
He wanted her to want to be with him too.
HOLY MOLY, IT’S never been like that.
Her first time had been down by the river, and it had been awkward and awful.
With Jimmy, she’d thought sex was good. Compared to her first, he was a rock star.
But Chase had made her come with only his fingers. That had never happened to her. Ever.
She felt like her legs were going to give out any second and her heart was pounding. Why had she let him do that? She could have said no. She could have stopped him.
You didn’t want to. You wanted him to touch you.
But she barely knew him. She’d known Jimmy all her life and they’d waited six months before having sex.
That was a long time ago and you’re older now. There’s nothing wrong with sex between two consenting adults.
Not according to her mother. Katie had waited until after her mother died to press the issue of living with Jimmy. Mainly because she’d been busy taking care of her mom and hadn’t wanted to leave her, but she also knew her mother didn’t approve of couples living together before marriage. Old school or not, it had been a strong point of contention between them. As for casual sex, that was a big no-no. Her mom had preached long and hard that sex was intimate and should only be shared with someone you loved and trusted.
Like a husband.
But her mother had lost that battle when Katie was two weeks shy of eighteen, just before her high-school boyfriend left for college. They’d talked about marriage and kids, as teenagers did with their first loves, and she’d had this romantic image of them telling their kids how they were high-school sweethearts someday. So she’d had sex for the first time on the bank of the Snake River, and it hadn’t been magical or sexy. It had been painful, awkward, and quick.
With Jimmy, she had wanted to wait a year, but he had given her a load of bull about how he was used to having it with his ex-girlfriend, and if they really loved each other, what did it matter how long they waited? Six months later she started staying at his place overnight. Her mother never said anything about her “sleepovers,” just “I can only guide you; I can’t force you.”
Funny how a little motherly guilt went a long way. Jimmy had complained often and loudly about their non-active sex life and all because she didn’t like disappointing her mother. And it wasn’t like sex was something she couldn’t have lived without, considering it was nothing like how the romance novels described it.
Well, at least it never had been with Jimmy. Chase, however, was a whole different experience, and she had no idea why. She had always been told love made sex better, but she had loved Jimmy, hadn’t she? And she certainly didn’t love Chase, but he had just given her the best orgasm ever. Had her mother been wrong about sex? Was it really about feelings, or more about how talented the man was? Maybe a bit of both?
Wanting out of her own head and where her thoughts were headed, she came back to the present. Sliding her hands down Chase’s neck, she turned to face him. Staring up into his strained expression, she blushed. “I . . .”
He reached out to pull her robe together. “I’ll help you finish cleaning up.”
Kissing her once more softly, Chase turned and left the small room. She was puzzled that he hadn’t pushed the issue of sex, but a large part of her was relieved. She had expected to be pleased with Chase, maybe even orgasm during sex if she was lucky.
She hadn’t expected to completely come apart during a little foreplay.
Turning on the dryer and washer, she picked up the laundry basket and followed him back to the bedroom. He was standing by the bed and holding the rectangular package that had so appalled her. “You got a vibrator?”
Katie cried out and grabbed the package from him, shoving it into the black bag, but he picked up the edible gel before she could stop him.
Chase opened the top, put a little on his fingertip, and licked it. The flash of his tongue made her feel hot and melty, even when he made a noncommittal face and said, “It’s okay. So this was what was in the black bag? I had no idea you were this kind of girl.”
Embarrassment replaced the gooey feelings, and she reached out to pluck the gel from his clutches. “I’m not. It was a gift with purchase.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just never thought I’d find something like that in your room. Nancy Drew novels, sure. Maybe even a few Cosmo mags, but sex aids?”
Katie felt like a horse’s behind jumping down his throat, but after what they’d done only a few minutes before, she was on edge. She’d never done anything like that with anyone. It had been overwhelmingly passionate: her whole body had been on fire, and then it had felt like she was floating. A guy she barely knew, who she’d allowed to touch her however he wished.
She should be ashamed of herself. She knew her mother would’ve probably been shaking her head saying, “Now Katie, I’ve told you a million times, no man’s going to buy the cow when she’s giving her milk away to every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
Pulling herself out of her silent admonishment, she said, “I’m really tired. I think I’ll take a rain check on that drink.”
She wanted to take
it back the minute the words were out, but Katie really did need time to think. Yes, she had agreed to a casual affair, but did she really want to go down that road with him? And then . . . what? Just part as friends? Acquaintances? Or would they avoid each other as best they could?
She didn’t know if the flash of disappointment was real or her imagination, but Chase’s face settled into a cool mask quickly. “Look, I didn’t mean to piss you off . . .”
“You didn’t. I am just really, really tired and I want to go to bed,” she said, wishing she wasn’t making it sound so much like she was kicking him out.
Studying her solemnly, his blatant scrutiny made her squirm. At last, Chase covered the two steps between them and gave her a quick, hard kiss. She barely had a chance to close her eyes and enjoy it before he turned to walk out the bedroom door. She heard the front door open and close, and then the roar of his motorcycle moments later as he took off down the road.
Way to go, spastic. Just what every man wants, a prude with mommy issues.
With a groan of disgust, Katie threw herself across the uncluttered side of the bed, buried her face in the mattress, and screamed her frustration.
CHASE WAS KICKING himself for rushing out of Katie’s last night, but he was feeling raw from their little encounter too. He’d wanted her so badly, he’d gone home, taken care of himself, and still dreamed about her. It was crazy to get so caught up in a woman like her. She’d get over her little crisis of character and go back to looking through him, the way girls like her usually did.
The next day he’d worked on his new graphic novel and then gone into the shop at five. He stayed open all day on weekends, but Tuesday through Thursday, he went in at five until nine or ten, depending on walk-in clients. Some people in town might not approve of his business, but he’d built enough of a clientele to make Jagged Rock Tattoo a success. Word of his art had spread all the way to Twin Falls, and comic lovers would drop in to shoot the shit. So some of the older, stodgier crowd would have loved to run him out of town, but that was their problem.
He was cleaning up in the back when the front door chimed. He came out and saw Katie standing there, her streaked hair held back in a ponytail. She had on a black tank top with a loose red skirt and a black belt with the word ROCK on the buckle in rhinestones. A bag of Styrofoam containers sat on the counter.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said shyly.
Moving toward her, he smiled. “Might be. What did you get?”
She opened a container and said, “I got a bacon burger from Jensen’s for you.”
“Then yeah, I’m hungry.” He didn’t know why he did it, but Chase kissed her cheek, lingering over the soft skin. He pulled back slowly, taking the smell of her with him as he said, “Thanks.”
She seemed surprised by his gesture and he wished he could take it back. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was hoping for something serious. She had laid down those rules in the beginning and he wasn’t going to be the one to scare her off by acting boyfriendly. Nice as she might be, he didn’t want her to have any kind of power over him.
Too late for that.
“I’m sorry about last night. I was embarrassed about the . . . you know, things on the bed.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine, I wasn’t mad.”
She cocked her head. “Really? ’Cause you rushed out and it just seemed like . . . but if you say you’re fine . . .”
“I am. And I didn’t rush out; I was respecting your wishes.” Shut up, asshole, and stop making things worse. He took a bite of his burger and groaned. “I love Jensen’s.”
He caught her frown changing to a smile and almost released a sigh of relief. Just what he needed: to act all butt-hurt. That would be a surefire way to end things before they’d even started.
Katie took a bite of her burger and moaned. “Mmm.” Swallowing and dabbing her mouth with a napkin, she said, “No one makes burgers the way Jensen’s does. I love that he puts fry sauce on them.”
“I don’t know, there’s this diner my mom has worked at for twenty years and it has this special sauce that might make you change your mind,” he said.
“I’ll have to taste this sauce for myself. Can’t take your word for it,” she said.
“Why not?”
“’Cause, I’m still getting to know you. I don’t even know if you’re a Coke or Pepsi guy,” she said.
“Coke,” he said quickly, before stuffing a French fry in his mouth.
“Hmmm . . . I’m a Pepsi girl. Although, the truth is, my favorite soda is Dr. Pepper,” she said.
As strange as it was for her to put so much stock in his choice of pop, it wasn’t the weirdest conversation he’d ever had. Although he was a bit surprised when, in mid-bite, she followed it with, “So, have you been tested for . . . stuff?”
He raised his eyebrow, knowing exactly what she was talking about but loving the way she nervously stuttered. “Yeah. I’m clean.” She looked relieved and he laughed. “What about you?”
She nodded. “After I found out Jimmy had . . . cheated, I got tested.”
“And there’s been nobody since your ex?”
She shook her head, and he was secretly pleased she didn’t just hop into bed with anyone, although it wouldn’t have mattered if there had been someone else. He wanted her too much and he wasn’t exactly a saint.
They finished their food, and he got down from his stool, taking two steps closer to stand between her legs. She leaned back on the counter and he put his hands on her thighs as he asked, “So does this little interview mean you want me to come over tonight?”
“I don’t know.” She nibbled on her lip and he leaned over to kiss it, taking the plump flesh into his mouth and sucking gently. He slid his tongue over it, happy to be able to taste her like this. He had been worried when he left last night that he’d blown it, and the thought had been like a sucker punch. Katie had wormed her way under his skin, and he just couldn’t seem to shake wanting her.
“Do you have your list?” he asked, pulling back from her.
Her eyes still closed, she tried to bring him back to her. “It’s in my purse.”
Chuckling, he reached out to grab her purse off the counter and gave her a quick kiss. “Hmmm . . . why do women keep so much shit in these things?” he asked as he started rummaging through the bottomless pit of change, lip gloss, and other odd items only a girl would think she’d need.
“Because we like to be prepared, whereas men would rather MacGyver their way through life,” she said.
Looking up with a grin, he said, “Struck a nerve?”
“No, I’m used to hearing that kind of thing from men, and with you being such a guy’s guy, I figure you probably call women ‘chicks’ and slap barmaids’ butts,” she said.
“Guess we’ll have to go out and find a barmaid. See if your theory is right.” He found the napkin and held it up. “Aha!”
“Look at that! You managed to find something through all my . . . stuff,” she said.
Grabbing a pen off the counter and handing it to her, Chase said, “Here you go, sassy Sue. You need to check off your tattoo, your streaks, the sex shop, and saying the first thing that came to your mind.”
She took the pen. “But I didn’t go to a sex shop,” she argued.
He grinned. “You have everything you need from one. Except the handcuffs.”
She hit his arm and he grabbed her hand. “And Becca told me about how you went off on Mrs. Andrews. You said the first thing that came to mind. I bet you apologized afterward, but it still counts.”
She didn’t pull away as he stroked her hand but said, “Which reminds me, I have to call her tonight about the weather. There’s supposed to be a big thunderstorm coming in, so we will have to move the pageant from an outdoor stage to the community center. And reschedule the fireworks. Knowing Mrs. Andrews, she’ll probably call it a blessing.”
“Does that woman like anything? What kind of person hates fireworks?
You get to play with fire and watch things explode,” he said.
“Why are all men such pyros?” she asked, laughing. “She doesn’t hate them; she just thinks they’re a waste of money.”
“I see. Well, back to your list. All you have left is to steal something—which, again, I do not recommend—skinny-dip, get drunk and flirt with a bunch of guys—not a big fan of that one either—have a one-night stand, and buy some handcuffs. Oh, and tell your ex that he’s a jerk off. I don’t know why you need to explain that; it should be obvious to him.”
“It’s therapeutic for me, and no, I don’t think Jimmy considers himself to be anything less than awesome.” Running her hand over his chest, she said, “I could just text Becca about the handcuffs.”
“Great, okay, so now a one-night stand. I do remember offering my services for that.” He dropped her hand to move closer.
Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said, “But it wouldn’t work with you.”
That gave him pause. “Why the hell not?”
Katie ran her hand over his cheek. “Because a one-night stand is supposed to be a stranger that you have sex with and never see again.”
“I see the problem. So maybe we could modify your list. Instead of one-night stand, we’ll have a torrid affair,” he said.
She laughed. “I can’t believe you know the word torrid.”
“What do you think, I’m just a dumb tattoo artist who dabbles in comics?” he said, his pride pricked by her comment. “I went to college and I graduated with a three point eight GPA.”
Why people always assumed he was stupid just because he liked doing tattoos he didn’t know, but Katie looked like he had told her he was an alien. It was pretty insulting even though he was used to it, but coming from Katie it stung more. She didn’t seem like the type to be so judgmental.
She blinked at him. “Where did you go?”
