“Ignore it,” he rumbles near my neck, his hot breath leaving a trail of goose bumps on my skin.
“If that’s what this place sells,” a deep voice calls from over Joshua’s shoulder, “I’m fucking coming here every night.”
I want to say something, but my words are sucked right out as Joshua slants his mouth over mine—robbing me of air and thought. His knee slips between my legs. His tongue whirls inside my mouth, his fingers laced through mine, his frame pressed hard against mine. A myriad of sounds pulse in my ears. His rhythmic breathing, the wind, cars zipping by…Finally I hear the door to the club close. The threat of being seen by someone I know is gone.
“See?” Joshua says, pulling back. “It worked.”
Rational thought slowly seeps back into my blanked-out mind. I nod, silent. Completely open to whatever he says.
He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “Wait for me at my home.”
I blink rapidly.
“Macey?”
“What?” I gaze up at him.
“Did you hear me?” He grins, shaking the keys as if he expects me to pounce like a kitten.
Another shiver cuts through me. “Of course I did.” I snatch the key ring from his hand. “What time?”
“One.” He leans in for another kiss. “Sure everything is okay?”
If he considers having my mind wiped clean after kissing me like that normal, yeah, I’m fine. “Right,” I say, retreating. “Meet you at your place.” I practically run to my Jeep.
I wave as I leave the parking lot. Lucky for me I keep a bag of clothes in my car. I don’t know how many times I unexpectedly ended up spending the night at Robyn’s. Or Wesley’s. I frown. How did he sneak back inside my head? Out! I turn the radio up. “Chandelier” by Sia blasts from my speakers. “ ’Cause I’m just holding on for tonight…”
I glare at the dashboard, pissed that song is playing right now. But I don’t change it; the lyrics match my life. Me and a hundred thousand other women with scarred souls. Only I won’t count how many drinks I have tonight, I’ll count how many times I let Joshua fuck me stupid.
I pull into the Landmark Condominiums. There are four guest parking spots available. There’s a private garage, but I don’t have access. I climb out and grab my bag from the backseat. Music sounds from somewhere behind the building. Maybe a party? In no hurry to go upstairs, I follow the slate walkway down the hill. There’s a white gazebo a few yards from the water. A dozen people are dancing and laughing. I smile, rarely the observer; my house is always packed. Not wanting to intrude, I head for the farthest corner of the beach.
There’s a nicely lit pier and a section of the seawall that spans most of the city’s oceanfront. I choose the pier.
It takes a long time to reach the end, but once I do, I drop my bag and lean over the barricade. The wind whips my hair in every direction. There’s something ethereal about the water. Beautiful enough to keep me here, even though I’ve visited some of the most romantic venues in the world: Paris, Rome, Athens, the Virgin Islands…Too many people frequent those places. I like my own little corner of Texas. And since my new beau lives in a place with a private beach, I plan on taking advantage of it. Just as I’m about to stand up, my sandal gets caught in the fence.
I scream as I start to fall, but a hand steadies me from behind.
“You should take better care of yourself.”
Heart pounding, I spin around. I thought I recognized his voice. Dr. Singletary. “Thank you.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and grins. “You’re welcome.” Then he looks around. “Where’s Camden?”
“At work.”
“Are you joining the roster of prestigious residents, Macey?”
“No,” I recognize the fact that this man has a way of gleaning information from me I normally wouldn’t volunteer. “Consider me a frequent flyer.”
That comment elicits a wicked smile. “Mile-high club?” Naturally, he’d ask that next.
My eyes shoot to his muscular legs. “Hardly.” I frown up at him. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a sweater. A combo I usually hate, but he’s stylish. “Joshua and I—”
“Are great friends,” he finishes for me. “I must say I’m impressed with his choice.”
“Where did you come from?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.
“The gazebo.” He turns, pointing. “I’m hosting a small get-together. Care to join us?”
I remember Joshua’s reaction when he found me talking with the good doctor this morning. And the sex afterward. I lick my lips, unable to banish that thought from my sex-starved mind. “Sure.” I scoop my bag up, then check my watch. Midnight. That gives me an hour before Joshua gets home. “One drink.”
I’m quickly introduced to Bishop’s colleagues, a real estate agent, and a couple of women who could easily qualify as call girls.
I sip on a glass of Champagne and listen to the docs discuss their patient loads and Medicaid payments. I’m already bored. This is supposed to be a party, not a business meeting. I cover my mouth and yawn. That’s when I catch Bishop staring at me.
“What?” I ask, gulping my drink.
He steps closer. “You’re beautiful.” No trace of a smile on his face now.
I swallow, feeling unusually awkward. “And you’re out of line.” He knows I’m seeing Joshua. I hold the flute out. “Thanks for the drink, Doc, but it’s time for me to go.”
“Did I say something wrong?” He places the glass on the table, never taking his eyes off me.
“No,” I answer. “But I’m not comfortable with you flirting with me when you know I’m dating Joshua.”
He rolls his eyes. “Think this is the first time I’ve complimented someone he’s seeing?” Arrogance is a genetic defect in Texas. “Or that he hasn’t done the same to my girlfriends?” He grips my arm, but I pull free. “Better to express myself now before you get too involved. I’d like to take you to dinner.”
My nose wrinkles. Not because he isn’t tempting. Dr. Singletary is the epitome of everything a southern mother wishes for her daughter. Educated, polite, wealthy, handsome, and as slippery as Vaseline. Yeah, I’m suffering from pent-up lust—for Joshua. “Good night, Bishop.”
I start for the back door, but he follows me. “Ms. Taylor.”
I stop, still facing away from him.
“I’m sure Camden told you about our families’ history. This has nothing to do with that.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” I’m grateful he doesn’t want to use me as a pawn for some kind of twisted revenge. “That still doesn’t give you the right to pursue me. Understand?” I twist around, making sure he looks me in the eyes.
His mouth drops open, then shuts. What can he possibly say? I’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m not interested in him, not while I’m seeing Joshua. Confident he understands, I continue inside, my mind scrambled with doubts. Am I trying to cover up my pain with a new relationship? I take a deep breath and unlock Joshua’s door. I head directly to the shelves in the dining room and slam Julia’s picture facedown. I don’t want to see her face, Wesley’s, or Bishop’s.
All I want to do is get lost in Joshua.
Chapter 12
I’m fifteen minutes late getting home. All I can think about is being inside Macey again, kissing her, bending her over the side of my bed…There’s a half-dozen purple orchids lying on my doormat. What the fuck? Wesley…I open the front door, crushing the flowers. “Macey?” If the son of a bitch is anywhere near her…
The place is nearly dark except for the lit candles on the dining room table. My temper slowly recedes as I drop my bag on the nearest chair and scan the room. I see the open bottle of Clos de la Roche and two glasses, along with a silver tray with cheese and red grapes, and can’t resist the sound of One Direction’s acoustic guitars. I’m surrounded by everything that’s supposed to make me relax. And I do—momentarily—until Macey appears in the hallway wearing nothing but a black leat
her G-string and six-inch stilettos. I let out a low growl as my gaze sweeps up her body. Every sun-kissed inch of her skin makes me want to scream.
But my eyes stop on her breasts, enticed by the tiny diamond studs glittering from her nipples, a chain dangling between them.
“Where else are you pierced?” I ask, edging closer, curious if I’ve missed a tiny tattoo or something else as fucking sexy as those studs.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
“Sure would.” I’m fighting against my instincts, wanting to throw her over my shoulder and take her straight to bed. She smiles sweetly at me—acting as if nothing is out of place. I finger a strand of her soft hair, then let it go. “Come here.” I yank her to me, holding her hips. She tries to wiggle away, playing the elusive lover. Instead, my hungry mouth finds her throat. I suck and kiss my way down until I hit her left shoulder. I feel the ripple of pleasure go through her. She sighs, arching her neck.
My fingers trail between her breasts and down her stomach. I cup the back of her head, bringing her closer to my lips, bending just enough so I can taste her. I suck on the first stud, rolling her other nipple between my thumb and index finger. I bite hard enough for her to whimper in ecstasy. It didn’t take me long to figure out what she likes; a little pain for the sake of pleasure. And it didn’t take her long to realize I’m the sort of man who enjoys giving it.
I gaze up at her, and there’s nothing but raw desire on her face. Then she starts to unbutton my shirt, but her hands are shaky and she fumbles with the top two buttons. “Let me.” I finish, peeling my shirt off.
Her hands are all over me, palming my stomach and chest. “I want you,” she whispers, sending hot chills up my body.
I kick my shoes and socks off, stripping down to my underwear. “Pick a spot, darlin’, there’s no stopping this now.” The wine and food can wait.
She peeks down the hallway, in the direction of my bedroom; candlelight dances on the white walls. Before she can say anything, I sweep her off her feet and carry her. All the pillows have been cleared off my bed and the comforter is gone. I lay her across the mattress. She smells as good as an ocean breeze. Given a choice, I’d gladly come home to this every night.
“Did you get the gift I left for you?”
Did I overlook something in the living room? “What gift?”
“The flowers.”
I clench my eyes shut. Shit. I need to control my jealousy. “Sorry,” I start. Before I can finish, she scoots off the bed, then heads down the hallway. I take off after her. “Wait…”
She opens the door a crack. “What the hell?” She glimpses over her shoulder at me. “Remind me to never give you orchids again.” She slams the door shut, then spins around. “Something wrong, Camden?” Her voice is silky smooth, but I know she’s only masking her disappointment and anger.
Do I fess up or lie? “I’m an asshole. When I found those flowers, I thought Wesley was here.”
She sighs, folding her arms over those magnificent breasts that, quite frankly, I’m not done admiring or playing with. “I think we have some issues to discuss.”
“Now?” I hope it can wait.
“Now.”
“All right.” I sigh, then offer her my hand. She takes it and I guide her to the dining room. Wine might help take the edge off. I pour two glasses. “What’s on your mind?”
She laughs. “Really need to ask?”
“I don’t want to play games, Macey. What was I supposed to think? Flowers on my doorstep? Crazy exes running around.”
“I’d worry more about your neighbor than Wesley.” She immediately covers her mouth with both hands.
“Excuse me?” I place my glass on the table. “What does Singletary have to do with this conversation?”
“Nothing.”
Bullshit. We’re in the middle of almost having sex and the doc pops up? “What’d he do?”
She takes a long drink, then stares at me all wide-eyed. “I decided to take a walk on the beach earlier.”
“And?”
“He joined me on the pier.”
My core temperature jumps a few degrees. “He followed you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“It started off innocent enough…”
I smack the table.
“He invited me to his party and I met his friends. I drank half a glass of Champagne and told him good night. That’s when he asked me out.”
I appreciate her candor, but in my experience, women are too nice, especially to men like Bishop. He uses his bedside manner on unsuspecting girls all the time. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. Hell, he tried to get in Julia’s panties a few times. “Did you turn him down?”
“Listen, Camden.” She pokes me in the chest. “I’m not Julia.”
I close my eyes, collecting my thoughts. “Think I don’t know that?” I open my eyes.
“Maybe we rushed into this without thinking clearly, Joshua. You’re suspicious, I’m skeptical. Where does that leave us?”
I won’t let her use our negative experiences in our past relationships as an excuse to give up on us before we’ve even had a chance to start. “On equal ground,” I say. “Wesley and Julia cheated. I’m over her, darlin’.” I grab her hand. “I’d say you and I have more moral clarity than the average person after what we’ve been through. For me, that translates into hope. And I’m pretty confident I don’t have to worry about you sneaking around behind my back because you don’t agree with my choices of where to live and work. How’s that for putting a positive spin on things?”
She’s appraising me. “Pretty slick, Ivy League.”
Yeah—if we’re talking about neglected body parts. I quickly banish that thought from my mind. She wants to talk this out. I’ll try. “Just being honest, Macey.”
“I’ll never cheat,” she assures me. “And if my mind starts to wander, I promise to let you know up front. No games.”
“Are you making a commitment?”
She curls her fingers under her chin. “Sure sounded like it.”
I don’t know how to explain the intensity of my feelings without scaring her. Making love with her triggered something inside me. I can’t put it into words yet. “Hold on.” I walk to the front door, open it, and scoop the obliterated blooms off the welcome mat. When I turn around, she busts out laughing.
“Look what you did to my babies.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“I made a quick trip to the greenhouse on my property.”
“You’re a florist?”
“No,” she giggles. “The gardener raises some exotic species. I have no use for the greenhouse and he does such a wonderful job with my landscaping, it seemed like a perfect arrangement. Whenever I want a bouquet, I take what I want.”
I look down at my flowers. One appears to have survived my angry shoe. “Shall we give the little guy a second chance?” I point to the kitchen. “Second cabinet on the left side of the sink. I think my mother bought a couple of vases.”
She finds one and fills it with water. I carefully place the single orchid in the vase. “Thank you,” I say, grateful she’s so understanding. In fact, her consistently controlled manner leaves me in awe. And nervous. Is there some kind of crazy hiding inside her, or is this girl really too good to be true? Time will tell.
“You’re welcome.” She stands in front of me. “But there’s heavy penance to get in my good graces again.”
“Hail Marys or my checkbook?”
She slaps my arm. “That’s terrible, Camden.”
I smile.
“No sex,” she informs me. “I’ll stay the night, but all we can do is cuddle.”
A week into this and she’s already using sex as a weapon? “Think you can manipulate me with that little snatch?”
“Sure do.” She’s so fucking confident, and absolutely correct.
“On one condition.”
“What?” She plays along.
�
�If you’re here when I wake up, the deal is off.”
There’s an inscrutable look on her face. “Deal.” She dashes for the bedroom.
Chapter 13
I know what Joshua will think when he wakes up and finds my note. Although I desperately wanted to make love last night, with him thinking I’d let Wesley into his house—well, it pissed me off. However, I understand his insecurities; I harbor a few of my own, left behind after years of dealing with a part-time father and now an unfaithful ex. I turn into my driveway just as the sun is rising. I step out of my car and face the water.
My house is across the street from a small park, so I can see the bay. Gray clouds litter the sky. Overcast days make me want to play in the snow or go skiing in Colorado. But how can I ever forget the year it snowed in Corpus? Everyone called it the South Texas Christmas Miracle of 2004. Schools and businesses shut down and everyone headed for the parks and beach. I built a snowman in my front yard. I smile, wishing for a repeat.
I go inside and plop down on the couch. My housekeeper stops in three days a week, usually while I’m at work. I smell Pine-Sol and leather cleaner. Then my cell vibrates. A text message from Joshua.
Playing games, Taylor?
I text back:
No. Need some down time.
Why?
Overwhelmed.
By me?
Yes.
I have that effect on women.
I roll my eyes.
You’re arrogant, Ivy League.
Don’t I have every reason to be?
How’s that?
Had you in my bed last night, didn’t I?
Now I’m the trophy girlfriend.
Are you my girlfriend?
My thumbs freeze. Think carefully. Am I ready to get seriously involved again? I know Wesley and I had a long break during the holidays, and we weren’t intimate for weeks before that. Another red flag I chose to ignore. But there’s something undeniably attractive about Joshua—beyond the physical. That’s reason enough for most women to rush into something permanent. Not me. I’ve had a half-dozen guys chasing me at once. Hot ones. Rich ones. Assholes.
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