His hands tingled as they dipped below her shoulders. With her arms raised, he was able brush the sides of her breasts, her glorious globes a perfect fit in his palms. Since she didn’t push away, he traced his thumbs below her breasts, skirting and not touching her nipples.
There, that ought to tease her to a frenzy.
A soft moan rolled from her throat as she wiggled. Oh yeah, she wanted to be touched, but didn’t dare demand. No woman had ever sounded so sweet when turned on. No one made him so protective, he’d kill himself if he ever hurt her.
This was heaven: her sweet lips milking his tongue, her breasts pressed against his chest, and his hands surrounding her thin waist. If he could make her his tonight, he wouldn’t care who she worked for, as long as she came home to him, wherever that might be.
The yacht slowly motored to the dock. The jolt as the boat arrived in its berth separated their kiss. Breathless, Dylan stroked her hair. Her beautiful face glowed like fine bone china in the moonlight against the pinpoints of light reflected off the dark water.
“Carina, if you could land the biggest deal of your life, what would it be?” He touched his lips to her forehead.
Her slender fingers intertwined with his and she pulled his hand to her collarbone. The dark orbs of her eyes shone like black marbles as she held his gaze. Like a drowning man, his heart plunged into their depths, and he wanted no answer but that she would belong to him, always.
“What kind of deal did you have in mind?” She gave him a saucy wink.
Her forwardness had him paralyzed. Dylan hoped he didn’t have a panicked look. “I asked you first. But if it were up to me, there’s a bridge of stars I’d like to buy.”
“So we won’t meet but once a year?” She got his reference to her story, the one where the two lovers were separated by the spider witch only to meet once a year on a starry bridge.
“Exactly.” A lump grew in his throat. “Texting and webcam aren’t enough. Will you jump on a plane during your school breaks and meet me wherever I’m touring?”
“That’s your best deal?” Carina rubbed her belly against his erection. “I told you when I met you what kind of player I am.”
“For keeps, I remember.” Sweat dampened under Dylan’s collar. He’d love to keep her, but wasn’t at all sure if he could work out the logistics. Would it be better if he worked for his father and got himself assigned to an office in Philadelphia? It’d only be a year.
“I think I shut you up.” Carina’s lips pressed together. “No worries, you’re still a free man.”
“I … uh …” It was just like Carina to turn a question he’d asked her into one he couldn’t answer.
The ship’s horn blew as the gangway was extended for the passengers to disembark. Time’s up.
Dave and Jen approached and greeted them. Jen gave Carina a kiss on her cheek while Dave shook her hand.
“You must come to our place for dinner before you go back to school,” Jen said to Carina.
A deep ache throbbed under Dylan’s ribs. Only one week left. He couldn’t let Carina go just like that—off to the wind and see her whenever. He’d use his sexual powers to chain her to him, make her crave him, addicting her to him. But what if that weren’t enough?
He placed her wrap over her shoulder and escorted her toward the car. The lights strung on the silent masts twinkled in the encroaching fog, and Carina shivered in his arms.
The evening had turned out better than he’d expected. His father had stayed aboard the yacht and hadn’t bothered to harass him again. But then, Dad might have left him alone with Carina so she could rope him into the partnership. He swallowed the rising plume of acid in his throat and chewed the insides of his cheeks. Would he have to sell out to keep her?
“You’re awfully quiet,” Carina remarked once they were on the expressway. “Is something bothering you?”
He cranked up the stereo. “It’s nothing. I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“Whoa, wait.” Carina turned off the music. “What happened to the romantic mood on the yacht? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, you were perfect.” His fingers itched to turn up the volume, but he tightened them on the steering wheel.
“What is it? Is it your dad? Is he pressuring you again? I bet he’s pissed about the tour.”
That was the understatement of the decade. Now that she mentioned it, of course it was the tour. That and the way she smoothly segued into this discussion. Fine, he’d run it by her and check her reactions.
“Something’s not right.” He changed lanes to pass a slow-moving Prius. “We’re a local band, hardly well known, and they’re overpaying us and wanting us to front for some of the biggest names.”
“What’s wrong with that?” She placed a hand on his knee. “You’re better than you think.”
The spot where her hand touched vibrated with heat. What was going on here? Her slightest touch was filled with sparks.
“Maybe, but I ran the numbers, projected our earnings. The investor would be losing money, even if we sold out every show.” He merged onto the highway leading to Orinda.
Carina rubbed the material of his pants between her fingers. What was she doing teasing him like this?
Her voice, however, was businesslike. “There has to be another factor you didn’t account for. Sometimes there are loss leaders. Exposure for the tour? Synergy with the other bands? Cost savings you’re not aware of? Concession sales or media rights?”
Chalk it up to Carina to assume he’d miscalculated while driving him mad with lust. He hadn’t had sex for almost two months. Did she know what she was doing to him?
Dylan’s leg jiggled and the car spurted forward onto the fast lane. Keep. Mind. On. Business. “What feels strange is we’re not starting on the West Coast where our fans are. They’re sending us overseas. I almost think someone wants to get rid of me.”
“Maybe someone wants to help you succeed.”
“Who’d do that?” He jerked the wheel, barely making the merge off the expressway.
“Someone who loves you.”
“Who would that be? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
“Nope, just a hunch.” Her mouth and eyes had almost perfected the innocent, angelic look, but her neck stiffened as she tilted her head to look out the window.
Chapter 24
Dylan walked Carina up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light. Her silky black mini-dress gleamed, highlighting every curve and her dewy skin glowed softly white.
He held his breath and casually bent over the threshold to pick up his guitar. He didn’t want to presume she’d ask him in. Carina was the kind of woman who constantly second guessed herself, so he’d let her take the lead.
“Leaving so soon?” Carina’s lower lip puckered into a cute pout. “You said you had a song for me. Come on in.”
“One song coming up.” He bent to kiss her, but she swiveled toward the kitchen. “I’ll make a pot of tea. You can sit on the couch and sing it.”
Back to Ms. Business. Talk about killing the mood on a dime. She wandered into the kitchen and put water on to boil. He set his guitar case on the floor near the sectional couch. “Nice place you have.”
She swept her arm like a realtor. “It’s an in-law quarter, the type traditional Chinese families have for their parents to live close enough to take meals together but have a private place to retire to.”
A queen size bed sat in one corner of the studio apartment while the kitchenette was across from a fairly luxurious bathroom, complete with a jetted tub and handicap-accessible shower.
“You like living here?” he asked to have something to say.
“Not quite as much fun as living with you.” She tugged on his shirt and wrapped her arms around him, and his body flared with renewed arousal.
They stood there, wrapped in a semi-awkward embrace until the tea kettle whistled. Carina stepped into the kitchen. She set a teapo
t on the coffee table along with two cups and saucers. “Do you take milk and sugar?”
“Milk only.” He positioned himself on the sectional couch near the end table, watching her pretty hands pour the tea, the steam swirling delightfully. She dropped a dollop of milk into his cup and handed it to him on a saucer.
“Would you like any cookies to go with it? Van’s parents have a stash of Girl Scout cookies stored here.”
Back to prissy lady tea party mode. Dang. His cock couldn’t decide if it should stand up or lie down. He tugged at his pants through his pocket and took the handle of the dainty teacup.
“Sure, the lemon ones are my favorite,” he said in a mock granny voice. Why the heck was he playing tea party with her?
“Mine too.” Carina set the open box in front of him. “Okay, let’s talk. I didn’t bring you in to seduce you.”
What the eff? Could have fooled me, his erection said before sitting down.
The queen of mixed signals, Carina gave him a long, half-lidded stare before kicking off her heels and arranging herself on the far side of the sectional. She put two pillows between them, propping her feet up. Her mini dress was barely enough to cover her upper thighs, and with a single yank, he could loosen those sweet assets in the front while petting the darling tush from behind.
He forced his gaze back to the tea. “Okay, we’ll talk. I haven’t decided whether to tour or not.”
She sipped her tea, holding the cup with both hands. “Is it what you’ve been dreaming of? Something you’ve always wanted to do?”
“It’s what we’ve been working for. The guys are pressuring me to sign. Apparently, the contract is void if I’m not in the deal.”
“Really? Is that the same for all of them? A package deal?” Carina’s eyebrows knit.
He’d seen that false concern before on women right before they tried to run a man’s life and tell him what to do. Whatever trap she was laying, he wasn’t stepping into it. She didn’t know stubborn if she didn’t know Dylan Jewell.
“No, that’s the strange thing. Only me. Remember how I said it felt as if someone wanted me to go away?”
“That’s how you interpret it. Maybe someone really appreciates your talent.” She set the cup down firmly. “Might be your father.”
“Him? Why would he pressure me to work for him while secretly funding the tour?” He scrubbed his hand over his blunt haircut.
She looked away and squirmed. “You told me he wanted you to follow his footsteps, but after watching the way he was looking at you this evening, I’ve a feeling he’s given up.”
“Really? How could you tell?”
Carina shrugged and rubbed the teacup. “His eyes were sad. How come you don’t get along? Maybe if you’ll give it another try. Making deals isn’t that bad.”
Reverse psychology. The oldest trick in the book. Dangle and twist.
“Is that it? Go back to daddy?” He couldn’t help the edge in his voice.
“Whichever way you take, follow your heart and live up to your potential. More cookies?” She gestured toward the box.
Her reply sounded so cliché, like one of those self-help advice columns. Dylan moved his hand down one of her ankles and took her foot. It was tiny and smooth, delicate, just like the rest of her. Time to put her to a test.
“Since you’re my friend, I want you to decide. Go on the tour or go back to work for my dad?”
“Me?” She sat up straighter and blinked. “Why?”
“I trust you.” He encircled her entire foot and stroked. “Do you want me to stay or go?”
She tensed and swallowed before shaking her head slightly.
Dylan worked his hand around her ankle and up her leg. “No answer?”
“I don’t have a right to decide for you.” She drew in a breath as he tickled behind her knee.
“But if you were my girlfriend, wouldn’t you have a say in this?”
“You mean longer than the end of summer?” Her eyes widened and she put her hand over her collarbone.
“Yes, my forever girlfriend. I don’t want to be separated from you and meet only once a year.” He tossed the sofa pillows on the floor and moved closer. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me so we can be together.”
Technically he wasn’t lying, but he had to smoke her out. If she was in cahoots with his father, he had to know before he lost his heart. Completely.
She was blinking faster and looking away, moving her lips as if deciding whether to believe him or not. Time to go for the kill.
“Come here, darling.” He tugged her into his arms and rubbed her back, slipping his fingers under the back of her strapless dress. “Mmm … you feel so good.”
Her struggle was brief, consisting of a slight twitch and a hand on his chest before she snaked it around his neck and cuddled in. “You want a relationship with me? Will it lead to marriage?”
A thunderbolt zapped through his chest. Marriage? The woman had balls. Her sparkling eyes and understated smile had his heart racing to the moon. Pangs of guilt fought with twinges of excitement. She was actually considering it. As in he, Dylan Jewell, being her husband?
Tender, radiant emotions bathed him like a golden light. This time, the thought of forever didn’t strike fear in his heart, didn’t make him shy away from her. It felt, somehow right.
“Sweetheart, let’s take it as far as it goes. I wouldn’t want to pressure you.”
“Well …” Her eyebrows creased in the middle. “Okay, if you say so. Are there any rules?”
“No, silly. No rules. I want to be with you. Share everything with you. My entire life, I’ve been searching for someone who’ll accept me the way I am. No expectations.”
“And you think that’s me?” She caressed his shoulders, her eyes softening.
He inhaled gently, even though she was driving him crazy, not with lust, but a more unsettling emotion—because she did accept him. Although there were moments when she sounded like she was selling him on banking, he didn’t have proof. Perhaps it was her way of shoring up her own fortitude, convincing herself she aspired to the right career.
Her expression was expectant, even hopeful and believing.
Dylan swallowed as the fist of guilt crunched in his gut. “What do you think?”
She lowered her gaze and her smile widened. “It’s true, I accept you. I actually admire you for your guts. Doing what you believe in. Helping the poor and living life on your terms.”
This sounded too good to be true, but if she were setting him up, she couldn’t have said it better.
Dylan peered at her dark eyelashes. She appeared sincere. A slight blush reddened her cheeks as her tongue flickered over her lips.
Lightly, he traced his index finger on her cheek in a heart shape. Her dark eyes dilated, appearing deeper and rounder and her breathing quickened under his touch. He feathered his fingers around the shell of her ear, delighting in the softness of the lobe and the smooth skin under her hairline.
“My Carina, you’re good for me, perfect.”
“Oh, Dylan, you’re perfect for me, too.” She scooted on his lap and hugged him. “This is my happiest birthday ever.”
She sounded so young and innocent. His chest tightened and he kept his hands away from her breasts and resisted kissing her. He didn’t deserve to make love to her while he doubted her. Even as his blood surged to his groin, he had to back down before hurting her.
Abruptly, he untangled himself from her and stood. “Why don’t you get ready for bed while I get out my guitar and serenade you?”
~ ~ ~
Carina put the tea cups in the sink and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and change. Somehow this wasn’t how she’d envisioned being seduced. All the books she read showed unbridled passion, busy hands ripping off clothes while tripping over each other onto the mattress.
Well, she’d better shower so she’d be clean for him. She was finally ready to make love, because Dylan, the man who wouldn’t commit to more than thre
e weeks, now wanted a permanent relationship.
A nervous tingle fluttered from her chest down to her belly. All the nights she lay awake fantasizing about him, and now? Could all of it come true? Would it be better than she imagined?
She turned on the shower and hopped in. Quickly, she lathered herself with her lavender olive soap. The warm water rushed over her breasts, and she resisted touching her peaking nipples to save all the sensation for his hands.
She shut off the water and toweled herself dry. Her thudding heart threatened to jump from her chest. She rubbed lotion over her body, swallowing the jitters. Should she put on makeup? She dug through her purse and her cell phone buzzed with an incoming message from Rebecca: What’s the progress on Dylan?
Carina texted: Working on him right now. Wish me luck.
Rebecca replied: You don’t need luck. Rich says he’s totally smitten. Now close the deal.
She should erase the messages, but Dylan was waiting. Instead, she shoved the phone into the drawer at the side of the sink. She wasn’t about to railroad Dylan into anything he didn’t want. She’d just have to renegotiate with Rebecca, or maybe delay his decision until after she received the return offer.
Brushing her smooth hair, she stared at her image in the mirror. Did he really like her slanted eyes? Her eyebrows were too strong and straight. She pushed up her breasts. Almost grapefruit sized. Her tummy was flat enough, thankfully, and the golden belly button ring glinted with a recessed diamond in the center.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled on a pair of satin panties, slipped on a silky robe and opened the bathroom door. Dylan had dimmed the lights and was sitting on her bed, strumming softly on his guitar. He’d untucked his shirt, but still wore his dress pants, although he’d removed his shoes and socks.
“Hey.” She leaned against the headboard.
“Hey you, back.” His gaze raked her, did a tour from her face down the front of her robe, as if untying it, before floating back to her eyes. “Ready for your song?”
Whole Latte Love (The Jewells) Page 24
