“I don’t have time right now. I have to get to a job. But I can come back tonight about six-thirty.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think dinner is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Because if I went to dinner with you, I’d end up in bed with you. The attraction sizzling between them made that inevitable if she let down her guard. Wonderful as that would be, you’d see it as just a casual fling and I’d end up wanting to stay with you forever. It had happened to her before; when she allowed herself to get emotionally invested in a person or situation, she always went overboard. She fell hard and far and ended up looking like an idiot. She’d spent so many years idealizing Josh that she already felt much more for him than he could possibly feel for her. Letting such a lopsided relationship go any further was bound to end up with her being hurt.
She stepped back, wanting to put some distance between them. She had a hard time thinking straight when he was standing so close. “I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”
“Because of what happened yesterday? When we kissed?”
She nodded.
He closed the gap between them, one hand coming up to caress her arm. “It was a pretty amazing kiss, you have to admit.”
“Yes.” And he was an amazing guy. Maybe the most amazing guy she’d ever met. She could fall hard for him so easily and, then when things didn’t work out, her heart would be well and truly broken. Was the pleasure they’d enjoy now worth that risk? Part of her said no, but when she was with Josh it was hard to believe that. She looked away from him. “I think it’s better if we stick to business,” she said.
“I don’t believe you, but I won’t push it. So when can we get together?”
“Will you be at the house tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “But come by Saturday. I’ve got wallpaper to strip.”
He flashed another sexy smile on the word strip, taking her thoughts exactly where he, no doubt, wanted them to go. “All right, I’ll see you Saturday,” she said. In the meantime, she’d work on strengthening her resolve—and on getting rid of the image of a naked Josh that was stamped onto her brain.
JOSH CAREFULLY prepared for Sam’s visit Saturday. He didn’t understand why she was so reluctant to let him get closer, but he was determined to find out. Ever since he’d bared all to finance his education, he’d done whatever it took to get what he wanted. Right now, he wanted Sam.
When she arrived, he handed her a pair of work gloves. “I thought maybe you could help me get this wallpaper off,” he said. “It’s really a two-person job and we can talk more about the photos while we work.”
She looked amused. “I get it, now. This is your ploy for getting free help.” But she slipped on the gloves. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
He handed her a sponge and a bucket of water. “I’ve already scored it with a scoring tool. I need you to wet it all down really well. I’ll go behind you with a scraper. And while we work, we can talk.” The plan had two benefits—he got the wallpaper stripped faster, and keeping his hands busy would help him to keep them off of her.
“Tell me how you got involved in photography,” he said as she wet down the first section of wall.
“I took a class when I was sixteen. A program for at-risk kids at the local community college.”
“Were you an at-risk kid?” The idea surprised him; she seemed so together now.
She shrugged. “No parents. Foster kid. I guess that qualified.”
Her family had moved away the fall after the summer when they’d spent so much time together, so he hadn’t known her when her parents had died. He couldn’t even imagine being that young and suddenly losing everything. “Was it rough, being in foster care?” he asked.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Pretty rough. Just when I’d get used to a place and start to think that this was going to be my forever home, I’d get shipped off to a new family.”
“Why did that happen?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe there was another kid closer in age to the children who were already in that house, so they thought he or she would be a better fit. Or some caseworker would decide a different school would be better for me. Who knows? There are too many kids and not enough money—it’s a messed-up system.”
He nodded, and went to work with the scraper, digesting this information. His life seemed easy by comparison. For a long while the only sounds were the rasp of the scraper on the wall and the slosh of water in her bucket.
“When I was seventeen I left altogether,” she said, breaking the silence between them. “For a few weeks I lived in my car, then I found a place. I had a job working as a waitress and started doing photography on the side. Then I worked for another photographer for a while, learning the business.”
“You’ve come a long way,” he said.
“I have.” She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and glanced at him. “You can see why I volunteered to take the photographs for Frameworks for the Future,” she said. “I like the idea that they build homes for people.”
The way she emphasized the word home made him look at her more closely. Her expression was…wistful. As if she was thinking of the home she’d lost when she was a child. The kind of home he’d always taken for granted.
She caught him watching her and reddened. “What about you?” she asked. “What have you been up to since we were kids?”
He turned his attention back to the wall. “The summer I was sixteen, I got a job helping out with a construction crew. Running errands, cleaning up, that kind of thing. It was basic manual labor, but I liked the work. I did it every summer until I graduated high school.”
“And you decided to start your own company.”
He nodded. “After talking to some people, I figured I needed a business degree first, so I went to college.” She’d shared some secrets with him, time for him to do the same. “My folks couldn’t afford to help much, so I worked my way through school.”
“That’s good.”
“You’re supposed to ask what kind of work I did,” he prompted.
She laughed. “Okay, what kind of work did you do?”
“I was a male stripper.”
She choked. “A stripper? You mean, like Chippendales?”
“Yep.” He struck a pose, hands on his hips. “Naturally, my costume was a construction worker. I never knew until then how sexy a guy in a tool belt is for some women.”
Their eyes met and he wondered if she was imagining him clad only in a tool belt. He was willing to make her fantasy come true if she’d give him a chance.
She was the first to break eye contact. She moved over and began wetting down another section of wall. “You’re right about this being a two-person job,” she said. “I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”
They worked the rest of the morning, until all of the wallpaper in the back bedroom was gone, then took a break and moved into the living room for lunch. A ceiling fan stirred the air overhead and windows across the front filled the room with light. “I’ve got ham and cheese or ham and cheese,” Josh said, pulling two sandwiches from a paper bag.
She laughed. “Ham and cheese sounds good.” She accepted the sandwich and unwrapped it. “It looks good. I’m impressed.”
“Hey, it doesn’t take a lot of talent to make a sandwich.” He opened a bag of chips and set it on the floor between them.
“No, I mean, I’m impressed that you thought to bring lunch. Most guys would have waited until we were starving, then ordered out.”
“Packing my lunch saves time and money.” He handed her a bottle of water. “I didn’t have a lot of either when I first started out and I can’t see wasting them now.”
She sat against the wall and looked out the front bay window. It had started to rain. Water dripped off the eaves in a silver curtain, shutting out the rest of the world. “So you worked hard and saved up enough to buy this place,” she said.
He nodded. “I got a good deal
on it. I’d like to find other properties like this and fix them up to sell.” He helped himself to a handful of chips. “There’s a lot of money to be made in old neighborhoods that are becoming popular again.”
“So what’s your goal?” she asked.
The question puzzled him. “What do you mean?”
She shifted to face him. “Is it just about the money, or is there something you want to do with the money?”
“I guess I want the money to invest and expand my business. I have some loans to pay off, so I have to do that first. I want to get to the point where I have a comfortable cushion in the bank. Right now I do whatever remodeling work comes along, but I want to build up a reputation that will allow me to specialize in older homes—the kind of places listed on the historic register.” He wadded up his sandwich wrapper and stuffed it back in the lunch sack. “I know one thing—I went through a lot of years where I didn’t have any money to spare and I don’t want to be in that position again.” There had been months when he’d had to dig for change to pay the rent, and more nights than he cared to remember when he’d just happened to show up at his parents’house at dinnertime because there had been no food in his own pantry.
“I guess it’s good to have money if you need it,” she said. “But I think you ought to have something planned for it.”
“So what are your goals? What do you hope to do with the money you make from your photography business?”
“I want to buy a house.” She tore a bite from her sandwich, popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
“What kind of house?” He prompted.
“I’m not sure yet. I’d like it to have room for a photography studio. And it has to have a porch—and a porch swing. That’s important.”
He nodded. “Porch swings are nice.” They’d had one when he was growing up. He remembered Sam had spent a lot of time in it that summer, reading, or simply staring up at the ceiling, daydreaming.
“This house had a porch swing once,” she said.
“How do you know that?”
“The eyes for the hooks for the chain are still there.” She finished the last of her sandwich and brushed crumbs from her lap. “Come here, I’ll show you.” She stood and held out her hand.
He took her hand and allowed her to pull him up, then followed her out onto the porch. It was raining harder now, water drumming on the roof, the smell of wet greenery filling the air.
“Look up there.” She pointed to the ceiling at one end of the porch. “The iron eyes. Those are for the chains for a swing, I’m sure.”
“I remember seeing those now, I just didn’t clue in to what they were for.” He was intensely aware of her, so close beside him. The faint floral scent of her hair mingled with the earthy aroma of rain in an erotic perfume.
She looked up at him and their eyes met, and he could see she felt it, too—this powerful pull between them. “Josh—” she began.
“Shh.” He put his finger to her lips, then removed it and kissed her. Gently. A subtle brushing of mouth to mouth, but it was enough to ignite the heat that had simmered between them all morning.
4
SAM LET OUT a soft moan of frustration and need. She didn’t want to give in to her desire for Josh, but she had never wanted anything more. The rain, the house, everything combined to remind her how dry and empty her life had been. She was tired of working all the time, of waiting and hoping and always playing it safe. Of denying herself the things she wanted because she was afraid they’d be taken from her. Instead, she’d ended up with none of the things she truly desired.
Josh caressed her shoulder, his gaze searching. “I want to sleep with you,” he said.
She nodded, and took a shuddering breath. “Yeah. I want it, too.”
She expected him to kiss her then, to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the next room, but he did nothing. She realized he was waiting for her to make the first move, allowing her to set the pace, to back out even, if she wanted. That knowledge melted her last bit of reserve and she stood on tiptoe and wrapped both arms around his neck. She drew his head down and kissed him as if she might never kiss anyone again.
Their lips were still locked together when he did scoop her into his arms and carry her into the house and set her down in the living room. He broke the kiss and touched her cheek. “Wait here,” he said.
She hugged her arms across her chest, though she wasn’t cold. No, it was as if a fever that consumed her, her whole body burning, on edge with nervousness and anticipation.
Josh returned with an armful of blankets. “I had these wrapped around the mantel when I hauled it from the warehouse,” he said, spreading them on the floor in front of the hearth. “They’re clean.”
She knelt on the makeshift bed and gave him a shaky smile. “This will be fine.” Everything would be all right if he would just hold her again.
He knelt facing her, and smoothed his hands down her shoulder. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded. “A little.”
“Me, too.” His smile warmed her further and dispelled some of the awkwardness she’d been feeling. She was here in this wonderful house, rain falling outside, the rest of the world far away. This was a magical moment and she’d be a fool not to savor every second of it.
She slid her hands down his arms, enjoying the feel of hard muscle, then moved to his waist and slipped her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch. She stroked upward, stopping when the hair on his chest tickled the tips of her fingers.
He stripped the shirt over his head, then helped her remove hers. They kissed again and, while his lips pleasured her mouth, he popped the clasp of her bra and removed it, as well. “You’re beautiful,” he said as he caressed her breasts, stroking lightly, his fingers sending wonderful sensations through her.
She smoothed her hands down his back, and traced the line of his spine, like a blind person acquainting herself with every inch of him. She undid the button on the waist of his jeans, but he put his hand over hers to stop her. “You first,” he said. “You’ve already seen me naked.”
She laughed and stood, one hand braced on his shoulder, and kicked off her sandals, then slipped off her shorts, sliding her underwear down with them. The look of such open desire in his eyes as he watched her made her feel shaky. She would have sank to her knees again but he grasped her buttocks and drew her to him, his mouth on her clit, kissing her, tasting her.
She moaned again, instantly wet for him, her breath rapid and shallow. He squeezed her buttocks, his fingers strong, pulling her closer still. She cradled his head in her hands, her fingers twined in his thick hair.
He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes dark, his hands still holding her firmly. “Now I think I’d better get naked,” he said.
“I was wondering what you were waiting for.”
He stood and removed his shoes and jeans. She stepped back, putting some distance between them.
“Where are you going?” he asked, reaching for her.
“I just wanted to look at you.”
He laughed. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen me naked before.”
“I haven’t seen you like this.” She directed her gaze to his erection. “Impressive.” Actually, all of him was pretty impressive. Not that she hadn’t seen her share of gorgeous male bodies this week, but Josh was definitely special. Maybe because she knew how gentle he could be in spite of his strength.
She took his outstretched hands and let him pull her to him once more. They clung to each other, savoring the pleasure of skin on skin, letting the tension build once more.
“Let’s lie down,” he said, and they lay back on the blankets.
She smoothed the hair out of his eyes and smiled at him. “I couldn’t believe it was you when you walked into the studio the other day,” she said. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of you over the years.”
“Really? Good thoughts, I hope.”
“Good t
houghts.” She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling his heart beat against her palm. “Though, this past week I’ve been having some particularly horny thoughts about you.”
“So the playing hard to get was an act?” His voice was teasing.
“Let’s just say I’ve learned to be cautious.” Part of her still worried something would happen to mess things up between them, but she was tired of fighting her feelings. For now, at least, Josh felt worth the risk.
“You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me.” He kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, her cheek and finally her mouth, his lips reassuring her without words, his hands stroking and caressing, making her forget her worries and fears and everything but this wonderful moment in time.
JOSH THOUGHT he knew a lot about women until he was with Sam. He’d told himself he would take things slowly, and not expect too much this first time together.
But the reserve he’d sensed in her earlier melted away in the heat of sex. She wasn’t shy about touching him and delighted in exploring his body with her hands and her mouth. She trailed kisses down his chest and flicked her tongue across his nipples, while her fingers stroked the underside of his balls. He groaned and grasped handfuls of the blanket beneath them when what he really wanted was to roll her onto her back and take her immediately.
But then he would have missed the pleasure of discovery that she shared with him. She moved down his stomach, surprising him by plunging her tongue into his navel, sending a new sensation of desire shooting to his groin. She cradled his erection between her palms and smiled at him. “Do you have a condom?” she asked.
“In my jeans.”
He sat and reached for the pants but she got to them first and found the foil packet in the pocket. “So you were planning this,” she said.
He grinned. “I had hopes. You have to admit, whenever we’ve been alone, things have gotten hot and heavy.”
“Mmm. I noticed.” She tore open the packet, then knelt between his legs once more. “May I?” she asked, holding up the condom.
Men at Work Page 11
