Shades of Desire: 10 Sweet & Spicy Romances

by J. A. Coffey

  At one point, Phaedra leaned over and whispered in Destiny's ear. "Looks like you've caught someone's interest."

  Destiny didn't have to ask who that someone was. Cayson's eyes followed her around the room like GPS. Every move she made, she felt his gaze on her. It would have been creepy if any other guy had done it. But with him, it was erotic. She creamed in her panties at the thought of him lusting for her.

  She downplayed the attention. "You're imagining things," she told Phaedra. "There's too much eye candy here for Cayson to stay focused on me."

  Phaedra smirked. "I've never known him to eat candy. He's more of a meat and potatoes kind of guy."

  The two laughed, and Destiny was grateful that Phaedra changed the subject. She didn't want to think about Cayson's new fascination with her. Over the past few weeks, she'd felt a strong pull of sexual attraction. She was trying hard as hell to resist it. Like Cayson had told her over and over again, their situation was temporary. She was not about to waste time and energy being his latest plaything. If and when she decided to sleep with a man, it would be on her own terms. Not his.

  Cayson celebrated so hard, Destiny didn't trust him to drive home. She wasn't sure how many Whiskey Sours a grown man could handle, but she'd stopped counting at six. The entire ten-minute drive from the bar to his house, she had to repeatedly slap his hands away as he attempted to fondle her thighs. She'd never seen him this wasted. When they walked through the front door, he was unsteady on his feet, so she let him lean on her shoulder as she helped him to his bedroom.

  God! All these muscles are heavy!

  He sang loudly as they walked. Something about an Irishman who lost his heart to a bonnie lass in Devonshire. Wherever the hell that was.

  "Ssh!" Destiny admonished. "You're gonna wake the dead with all that racket."

  He flopped backwards onto his king-sized sleigh bed. His long legs hung off the side of the mattress. This was her first time in his bedroom. It was tastefully decorated in black. Like the rest of the house, colorful artwork and masks adorned the walls. The only other furniture besides the huge bed was a sleek, black dresser with nickel hardware, two matching night stands, and a man's valet stand with a gray suit jacket hanging from it. An abstract red and white rug covered most of the wood floor. The dark curtains of his large window were drawn, and she imagined with all the natural light, he had little use for the three lamps that now lit the room.

  The faint smell of his cologne lingered in the air like a pleasant memory. Just beyond the far wall, she saw the door to his master bathroom. Thinking of him in the shower lathering his body with soap sent a wicked thrill of excitement through her. She glanced at Cayson, hoping he couldn't read her expression, but he lay with eyes closed and arms outstretched.

  She shook her head. The least she could do was remove his shoes and tie. She didn't want him to fall asleep fully dressed. She untied his laces and tugged on the heels of his black wingtips. They looked great with the pinstriped suit he'd worn earlier. She caressed the long lines of his feet, deciding to leave his silk socks on. Without them, his toes might get cold. When she reached up to loosen the fat knot of his tie, he grabbed her wrists. She pulled back in surprise, but he held her tight. His eyes flickered open and feasted on her.

  "God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

  Goosebumps puckered on her skin. His compliments always buoyed her ego, but she had to remember who she was dealing with. Cayson was a slick-tongued lawyer. He had a way with words. "Everybody looks beautiful when you're wasted," she answered.

  "I'm not too drunk to realize how beautiful you are. Or how much I want you."

  The look of longing in his eyes was practically her undoing. He held her gaze captive, and she was lost in the dark depths, wondering how deep his passions flowed. He tugged on her wrists, pulling her on top of him. When he brushed her collarbone with his lips, she closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his hot mouth on her skin.

  There was no hiding it-she was as hungry for him as he was for her. Heat spiraled through the pit of her belly and nested between her legs. If she put her hands between her thighs right now, she'd likely burn her fingers!

  Cayson coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. She tasted the spicy sweetness of bourbon. She suckled, pulling and stroking his tongue. She couldn't get enough of him. His hands slid down her back and palmed her ass, his long fingers squeezing and kneading. She moaned against his mouth.

  Lord! He feels so good!

  When his hips grinded against hers, white-hot sparks of pleasure shot through her. If he kept this up, he would turn her to putty in seconds. Her experience with men was limited. How could she ever hope to handle such a skilled lover? On the other hand, there was so much he could teach her if she gave herself fully to him. But was she ready?

  Self-doubt kicked in. She dragged her mouth from his, and used his body as leverage to push herself away. "No," she shook her head. "I can't just...give myself. I don't...think..."

  "No woman has ever left my bed unsatisfied," he boasted. His magical hands continued to stroke her. The tips of his fingers brushed against a distended nipple, setting her on fire again.

  She wrenched away, putting as much distance between her and those heavenly hands as she could. She stood over him. "I don't want to be another one of your conquests, Cayson. I don't want to be the subject of office gossip."

  He sat up, his dark eyes filled with desire. "Since when do you care about gossip?"

  "Since I got this good job." In truth, she didn't care about what others thought of her. She cared what she thought of herself. Working at JADE had shown her there was so much more to life. She couldn't sell herself short. Cayson Sullivan could get coochie anywhere. He didn't need hers.

  With strength she didn't know she had, she pushed him down on the bed, and walked from the room.

  "Where ya going?" he called after her, his words slightly slurred. "Party's just getting started."

  If she left him alone, he'd be passed out in ten minutes. "I'm gonna slip into something more comfortable," she lied.

  He closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head. "Okay, baby. I'll be waiting."

  She shut the door behind her. He was going to have one hell of a headache when he woke up alone in his bed.

  *****

  Cayson dropped two antacid tablets into a glass of water. He watched as the tablets bubbled, and then filled the glass with an effervescent fizz.

  That must be what my brain looks like inside my skull right now.

  He waited for the mushroom of fizz to settle before chugging the entire glass. He burped, and immediately felt the release of pressure in his stomach. Now, he needed an aspirin to quiet the pounding in his head. He was getting too old to drink as hard as he had last night.

  His office door burst open, and it took a Herculean effort to raise his eyes to the intruder. He'd specifically told Byron to cancel all of his morning appointments. He was in no mood for idle chatter today. When his eyes landed on Destiny, standing happily in his doorway, he winced. Even the bright color of her red, wrap dress seemed to scream at him.

  "Good morning!" she chirped.

  "Jeez," he cradled his head. "Do you have to be so loud?"

  "Oh, stop being a baby." She bustled forward, the tempting sway of her hips moving like a pendulum and hypnotizing him. His head might be fucked up, but his dick still worked fine. "Nobody told you to get shitfaced last night," she berated. "Knowing you had to come to work this morning. Some role model you are."

  He slid his glass to the side. "Nobody said anything about me being a role model."

  "Remember, you're responsible for me now. What kind of example are you setting?"

  How did she manage to be so cheerful? And look so great? There were no apparent signs of her drinking last night. Yet, he knew she'd downed a few. He saw her sipping cocktails with Phaedra. He'd noticed everything about her last night. He couldn't keep his eyes off her.

  "Why aren't you hung over?" he demanded.


  She tossed him an impish smile. "I know how to hold my liquor."

  "Yeah, but I was drinking hard liquor. You only drank fruity drinks."

  "And I know when to practice self-restraint. Something you haven't quite mastered yet."

  He knew she was alluding to more than simply imbibing. She had a point. He didn't like limitations. So, he rarely imposed them on himself. He changed the subject. "You were already gone when I got up this morning."

  "Phaedra had to be to work early. So, I had to be ready, too."

  Her willingness to do whatever needed to be done pulled at his heart strings. She never bitched about anything. She merely accepted her duty and dedicated herself to the task at hand. Others could take a lesson from her.

  "You know, you don't have to carpool with Phaedra all the time. You can ride with me."

  One of her sculpted eyebrows jumped. "I thought you said no personal contact at the office. I understood that to mean we can't be seen coming into the office or leaving together. I may not pay attention to a lot of the things you say, but I didn't miss the part about you being ashamed of being associated with me."

  "I never said that." All this time that's what's she's been thinking? "I only instituted that rule because I don't want you to get a reputation."

  She sat on the edge of his desk and folded her arms across her chest. "You're the one with the reputation."

  He leaned back in his chair, his eyes appraising the firm lines of her thighs. "What have you heard?"

  "You're a hard man to keep interested. You like to have fun but that's about it. And you're not looking for a serious relationship."

  "You've been here four weeks and you learned all that?"

  "Actually, I learned it the first day I started work. You're a hot topic around here."

  "Oh!" He clutched his heart. "And what do you think of me now?"

  "You mean do I think you're a man-whore?"

  "Damn! When you put it like that, it sounds so self-centered."

  She shot him a dazzling smile that warmed him from scalp to toenail. "I don't judge anyone. I figure you haven't found the right woman to make you settle down."

  He liked her thinking. It was true: he had no plans to settle down. Why should he? He was enjoying his freedom.

  "But," she wagged a finger at him. "If you were my man, you wouldn't need to stray. You'd be fully satisfied."

  He nodded. "Like I was last night."

  She gasped, her pretty glossed lips commanding his attention. "I guess you weren't as drunk as I thought."

  "Maybe."

  "And to think you let me carry you in. My shoulder still hurts from dragging your butt in the house!"

  "You give an amazing foot rub."

  She smirked. "I'm a woman of many talents."

  The stirring in his trousers wanted to explore that thought further. The racket in his head knew he was not up to the task. Would he have been last night? Hell, yeah. He relived their kiss in his mind like a sportscaster narrating a highlight reel on ESPN.

  Sullivan moves in for the kiss. He goes deep. Destiny clings to him. It's in the bag, folks! Cayson Sullivan scores!

  Sadly, that was all he remembered. He'd fallen asleep dreaming of peeling lacy underwear from Destiny's body. He hadn't meant to bring up last night, but Destiny's flirtatious conversation prompted him. The woman exuded sexiness. And she had no clue how she affected him. There could only be one reason why she'd pulled away last night. She wasn't attracted to him. Usually, he could catch whatever woman he pursued. Hell, more often than not, he was the one being chased. He merely obliged his pursuers. But Destiny was different. It seemed she could care less whether he was interested in her or not. In fact, she'd gone so far as to dismiss his overtures as what amounted to frat boy antics.

  "Well," she stood with her hands on her hips, "if you're done sexually harassing me, I've got work to do."

  Her nonchalance challenged him. She was hot when she was in his arms, but outside of that, she kept her cool. He knew he shouldn't force the issue, but some rules were tempting enough to bend.

  "Hey," he suggested, "let's have dinner tonight. My treat."

  "Yeah, right. By the time you make it home, nothing will be open but Pork and Pancakes."

  He chuckled. Pork and Pancakes was a local restaurant known for serving pancakes and bacon twenty-four hours a day. The sign above the restaurant showed a sumo-sized pig wearing wrestling trunks and lounging on a pancake.

  "All that hard work doesn't count if the partners aren't here to see it," she chided.

  He had been burning the midnight oil lately. "I promise, I'll come home early tonight. Will you wait up for me?" he entreated.

  She rolled her eyes. "Don't hold your breath, counselor."

  He smiled as he watched her exit. His fingers twitched thinking about how he'd had his hands all over her backside last night. Oh, yeah. He'd be there on time tonight. He set the timer on his Blackberry for six p.m. That would give him plenty of time to fight the traffic and arrive home at a decent hour. He'd made plenty of promises to women. Some of them he kept. Some of them he made only to get what he wanted. For the first time in a long time, he meant to follow through on this one.

  *****

  It was amazing how much work Cayson could accomplish when he didn't have a zillion interruptions. Byron picked up on his cranky mood and acted as a sentry, guarding the door to his office from the constant barrage of people who insisted upon meeting with him.

  He was working on a brief for a client when his oldest brother, Dane called. Cayson closed the door to his office and took the call in private. "What's up, bro? I haven't heard from you in damn near a month."

  "Through no fault of mine," Dane answered. "You're the busy attorney babysitting those plutocrats you call clients. Tell me something, do they pay you to wipe their asses too?"

  "Only if I put it in their billable hours."

  Dane howled with laughter. "Thanks, kiddo. I needed a good laugh."

  Cayson chuckled with him. "I bet you do. There's nothing funny about 'til death do us part.' I heard Charly is dragging your ass down the aisle."

  "Yup. We're doing it next month."

  "So soon?" Cayson propped his feet on the edge of his desk. Most people took months to plan a wedding. The bride wanted the perfect dress. The perfect venue. The perfect everything.

  "We figured why wait? It's the second time around for both of us, and we both know what we want."

  "It seems like yesterday when you brought her to Mark's party and messed up my plans for your blind date."

  Dane's deep laughter filled the line. They could joke about it now, but the night it happened over a year ago, Dane was livid. Cayson learned not to set his brother up on any more blind dates. Besides, from the moment Dane met Charly, he didn't have eyes for any other female.

  "It's been a year and a half. And we're practically living at each other's houses now. We wanted to make it official."

  "I have to admit, I never thought you'd date anyone after Nichole's death, much less get married."

  He heard Dane's deep sigh. "Me either. The love I had for Nichole was deep, but it's nothing compared to how I feel about Charly. She's everything I want in a woman. I mean, we have our arguments, and we get on each other's nerves from time to time. But I can't imagine my life without her." Dane paused. "She's my reason for getting out of bed every morning."

  Cayson had never heard his brother utter such profound words. He wondered how it felt to be so connected to someone like that.

  What am I saying? I'm happy playing the field. I don't need to be tethered to some ball and chain.

  "I want you to be a groomsman," Dane told him.

  "I'd be honored." This would be the second wedding he'd attended in almost as many years. He was the groomsman at Mark and Kendra's wedding too. "The best part is that all we have to do is show up. The women do all the planning."

  "We're having an island wedding. Going back to The Maldives where w
e met."

  "Wow! I hate to sound like a chick, but that's really romantic, dude."

  "Yeah, I'm that kinda guy. Romance is in my blood."

  "Spare me your bullshit. Your idea of romance is chugging beers at the bowling alley."

  "Don't underestimate the bowling alley. That was where I got laid for the first time."

  "Okay, I stand corrected."

  "But you were right. It was Charly's idea to get hitched in The Maldives."

  Cayson chuckled.

  "I hope you can make it. Kendra is getting all of us discounts on rooms and airfare."

  "All of us?"

  "Ma and Pops. You. Me, Charly, her kids, her parents, and her cousin, Shontal."

  "This'll be a real family affair."

  "Exactly. That's why I need both of my little brothers there with me."

  It had been a long time since any of them had been little. Cayson was approaching thirty. Mark had just turned thirty-four, and Dane was pushing forty. Growing up, Cayson felt both bullied and protected by them. Now, they were thick as thieves.

  "You can count on me, bro."

  "And if all goes well," Dane hinted, "you might get a hot bridesmaid to walk with. Charly's got a good-looking cousin. Not that you need any help with the ladies."

  As if prompted by some internal ethics clock, Cayson's timer buzzed on his cell phone. "Oops! Gotta go. I promised Destiny I'd be home early tonight."

  "Destiny? Is that the latest victim of the Cayson Sullivan charm? Or should I say curse?"

  "Oh, I forgot-you don't know."

  Cayson gave Dane the quick and dirty version of what happened in court three weeks ago. Unlike the conversation he'd had with his mom, he felt it was safe to give Dane more details. He explained how the Barracuda had him by the balls with her vindictive judgment.