His fingers on her chin shifted, tipping her head back and he leaned in.
She swallowed, hyperaware of everything—her crazy hair, the way her nipples chaffed against her bra, the heat of his touch, his nearness.
Raul’s lips brushed hers in a tantalizing whisper of a kiss. She held onto the counter with one hand to make sure she didn’t fall on her face. Her other traitorous hand found its way to his side and tangled in the soft fabric of his shirt. He pushed his other hand into her hair and set his mouth firmly against hers. She was pretty sure she whimpered at his touch, his utter lack of hesitance.
Raul needed to stop. He shouldn’t be kissing her. But her taste. That helpless little sound she made. He suckled her lower lip, the one that’d taunted him since yesterday, and pivoted her until Miranda’s back was to the island, his hips pressed to hers, holding her right there.
She tasted of ice cream and the lingering spices from dinner. His curry. The garlic-heavy dish she’d eaten. Her hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him.
Her tongue swiped across his lips, shocking the hell out of him. Her short, springy curls tickled his fingers. Once again, her tongue teased him, darting into his mouth, stroking him the same way he wanted to stroke other parts of her.
Raul’s resolve to back up and give her space quickly eroded into nothing. He slid the hand at her chin down to her hip, splaying his hand over her luscious curves. If he’d thought she was cute before coming over, she was damn irresistible now. Smart. Sexy. Compassionate. That ass. It was like looking at a check list brought to life in one person, only she was better than a list.
He bent and picked her up, setting her on the kitchen counter. Now her mouth was the perfect height. Her arms twined around his neck, pulling him in closer. He stroked inside of her mouth, deepening the kiss, hungry to hear that aroused moan again.
She arched her back, her chest pressed against him. He tugged at the zipper on her track jacket until it separated. She shrugged out of it, leaving her in the tank-top and yoga pants. Precious little between them.
This was going too fast. He’d only meant to kiss her, but now he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
Miranda turned her face away, gasping for breath, her nails digging into his skin, pulling him closer.
Raul kissed her neck and heard her breath catch.
Damn, but he wanted her. Her taste, her smell, he needed to get closer, drink her in. It wasn’t entirely rational, he didn’t make a habit of mauling pretty ladies, this was a first for sure. And she seemed to feel it, too.
He slid his hand up from her waist to her ribs, just below her breast.
The rational side of his brain was completely muted.
He gripped her ass with his other hand and returned to her mouth, rocking into her.
She whimpered, the sound deep in her throat. Needy. Wanting.
He leaned back, soaking in the sight of her, cheeks flushed, lips damp, eyes a little unfocused. It was hot as hell—and unasked for.
Shit.
A kiss was one thing, but this? This wasn’t okay. He was a stranger in her home, and this was not how he should behave. It was wrong, and so very over the line.
“I’m sorry.” Raul stepped back. He’d come over to see the kittens, maybe get to know her a little better. Not—this. “I—didn’t—I’m sorry.”
“What?” Miranda blinked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
He had to get out. Now.
Raul turned and was out of the front door before he could really process what to do with his feet. He moved on auto-pilot, getting into his Jeep, starting the engine, and driving away. The where didn’t matter, so long as he got the hell out of there.
4.
Miranda tapped her fingers on the desk, glaring at her phone. Frustration and mewling kittens had kept her up most of the night. There was something about needy kittens crying for mom that made a vibrator powerless, despite her attempts at finding some kind of satisfaction. She picked up her phone and hit the power button. Nine unread emails—and no new texts.
She dropped the phone back onto the desk and shoved her hands through her hair.
The blinking chat icon on her desktop caught her attention. She maximized the screen.
Rashae: Morning.
Rashae: Anything?
Miranda: Nothing.
Rashae: K, did you ever call him? Text? Smoke signal?
Miranda: No.
Rashae: -.-
Piper: o.o
Rashae: Still up or waking up?
Piper: Still.
Rashae: Drink some coffee or go to bed.
Piper: Can’t! Date tonight.
Miranda: Should I text him? I mean, he just ran out last night.
Rashae: If you want answers—call him. Show up at his work place.
Rashae: You going to work today?
Miranda: Working from home.
Miranda: aka, hardly working
Rashae: I need to shower. I have that Skype meeting today for the board game and Sam’s finally out of the bathroom. Lemme know what happens!
Miranda twisted her necklace around her finger and clicked through her work email. She was going to miss the strategy meeting, but the team was doing well. They didn’t need her for that, but she hated not being present, at least in mind.
Why was she letting a guy she’d known for less than twenty-four hours tie her in knots? After one kiss? Okay, it was more than one, technically speaking, but one make-out session should not have left her brain so very scrambled. Then again, with the year she’d had, maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She was focused on a living, breathing person instead of a stalker that might just be figment of her imagination. Besides, Raul’s bag was still here, as were the multiple cans of pet formula and whatever else he’d bought.
She was doing it again.
Knowing she was doing it didn’t help.
Miranda took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair, running through the list of mistakes she’d made. Most of them were men. Nice guys for the most part, but they all wanted something from her. Maybe it hadn’t started that way, but in the end that was how it ended up. She fell for guys with needs she could meet with the right amount of money, and they just kept taking until she was the only one in love. The stalker mess had broken her unending cycle of disastrous relationships, but she was picking it up again. Without skipping a beat.
Raul was gorgeous, he tugged all the right heart strings, and he needed funding. Her gut said he was a good guy, not her stalker, maybe a little rough around the edges, but a good guy nonetheless.
She snagged a notepad and doodled circles inside of circles.
At the very least, she wanted an answer for his sudden stage-left exit, and to return his stuff.
The timer went off, and she lurched to her feet. All her research had indicated kittens needed to feed every couple of hours in the beginning and since the runt showed neither the energy to feed on his own and Lola wasn’t yet encouraging the kitten to join with his siblings, that meant Miranda was pulling mom duty.
She prepped the bottle the way she’d seen Raul do it the night before, then set up on the sofa to feed Runty McRunt-Pants. The kitten had already figured out the drill, and by the time she had him draped over her thigh, his little head was swinging this way and that, searching for his next meal.
Warm, gooey, happiness oozed through her as she watched the kitten eagerly suckle at the bottle. She was glad Lola had the other six under control because Miranda couldn’t imagine bottle feeding an entire litter. One was more than enough for her.
She got the kitten cleaned up and by the time she was ready to put him back with his siblings, the kitten had curled up against her shoulder, its little scrunched up face buried in its paws.
Miranda dug her phone out of her pocket and snapped yet another picture. The way she was going, her phone’s memory would be full by tomorrow. Whatever. It was her one, and hopefully only, litter.
The picture w
as one of the cuter ones she’d taken. The kitten was fully featured, part of her plum-colored hoodie folded over him like a blanket. Her lips were in the background, an unintentional part of the photograph...but kind of flirty.
She hit the text icon and plugged in Raul’s contact before she could think better of it, and off the text went.
“Okay, Runty, you need to go back to Mom.” Miranda got the kitten resituated and was relieved when Lola accepted him with excessive motherly grooming. That was promising, right?
Beep.
The phone chime made her spine straighten and the hair on the back of her neck rise in a way that had nothing to do with fear. She held her breath as she crossed to the counter and clicked the text icon.
He’d messaged her back. Finally.
Is he eating on his own yet?
Really?
She sighed.
What had she expected? He was a vet. Of course his first question would be about the kitten.
Yup. Every two hours like clockwork.
She bit her lip and waited. Raul’s reply was almost instantaneous.
Can you talk?
Her stomach did a little flip-flop. But he might not even want to talk about last night. He might be driving, or want to know more about the kittens, or... She’d never know if she didn’t talk to him.
Miranda inhaled a deep breath and hit dial.
“Hey.” Raul’s voice was sleep-rough, gravelly. She could picture him scrubbing a hand across his jaw, his hair all messy.
“Morning.”
“You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”
“No.” She chuckled and poured herself a cup of tea. “I’ve just been up for a while.”
“It’s barely eight.”
“And I usually start work at seven.”
“That exhausts me. There’s a reason I take the later shifts at the clinic.”
“I hate it, too, but I work better earlier, so I do what I have to do.” She glanced at the bags still sitting on her counter.
“Hey, about last night...”
“Yeah, what happened?” She tapped her spoon on the counter in lieu of her nails.
“I...” He blew out a breath, rustling over the phone. “You got a minute to talk? Or—”
“I’m the boss, remember? I get to make my own schedule.”
“Right.” He paused and she could hear what sounded like a mattress squeaking. Was he calling her from bed? “I shouldn’t have walked out like that, and I really should not have...I don’t know, kissed you like that without some sort of okay.”
Miranda frowned, not following his reasoning whatsoever.
“You’re...Let me get this straight. You what? Wanted permission to kiss me?” She’d never heard of anyone pausing mid-moment to ask that sort of thing.
“Sort of. I guess. I was a strange guy, in your home.”
“Yeah, but I also invited you over. It’s not like you broke in and made out with me. Let’s be clear here, an attractive man comes over to my house, I’m well aware of what could happen, and I’m fully capable of saying no.” Again, just because she was a woman didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of thinking for herself. And besides, for the first time in ages, she’d felt like the Miranda she used to be. Without fear.
“I know that. Please—I’m not explaining myself very well. Shit. Okay, I’m just going to say this and I know it’ll probably sound weird. I have—had—a younger sister. She went to stay with our mother’s relatives in Delhi around the time there were a lot of...it wasn’t a good time to be a single, young woman in India. She—disappeared. And I can’t help but imagine what happened to her—where she might be—and it makes me...I don’t know...”
“Oh, Raul, I...I’m so sorry.” She perched on a stool. Imagining her younger sister just—gone...she couldn’t even. He didn’t have to paint in what could have happened to her. That—she got. It’d been hard enough to deal with two of Miranda’s employees getting kidnapped. If it’d been her sister? No way. “You don’t know anything?”
“No.”
“Nothing? No one does?”
“The American Embassy looked, the police said they looked, but she’s just...gone. And...”
“I get it. You don’t have to explain. That’s awful.”
Shit.
The look of horror on his face last night made total sense now. What kind of hell had he lived through? Had his sister experienced? Not knowing...
“For what it’s worth, I was fine with everything.” Heat crawled up her neck and she swallowed. If she had to be painfully clear about the line of consent she could be.
“Good. I’m glad. Shit. I sound really stupid. I should have had coffee before calling you.”
“I called you, remember?”
“Barely.”
They both chuckled. A pleasant warmth spread through her body. She wiggled her toes against the hardwood.
“Your stuff is still here...” She bit her lip.
“Yeah, I remembered that when I was almost home. I should have called you last night. I just...”
“Hey, I said I get it. No more explanations, okay?”
“I want to make it up to you.”
“I’m fine with that.” Especially since she had a good feeling that making it up to her might involve a little making out.
“How’s Lola doing?”
“Good.”
“I take it the kitten is eating?”
“Like a champ.”
“Good. Good. I need to get moving but...”
“I’ve got a conference call starting in like, three minutes, so how about you text me when you’re free and we figure it out from there?” She was asserting herself, and it felt good. Her relationships outside the office had taken a serious hit when her paranoia hit new levels. This, between them, was normal. Like old her.
“Perfect. I look forward to making amends.”
“I look forward to being...amended...that’s not right.” She chuckled and shuffled back to her computer. “Shoot. They’re calling me in early. Gotta go!”
Frank rolled over and did the first thing he did any morning, he checked on Miranda’s whereabouts. Satisfied she was at home, he settled into his routine.
Shower.
Coffee.
Breakfast.
Email.
He was pleasantly surprised to find his regular Friday update in his inbox a day early. Handing the PI his ass seemed to have done the trick. The man was being more forthcoming than usual.
As a bonus, today’s update included pictures.
Frank hit print without looking at them. Some things needed to be appreciated in full gloss.
He picked up the six or so images from the printer on his way out to the patio to survey the Seattle fog clinging tightly to downtown.
The first image nearly took his breath away.
Miranda had always been a lovely girl, but she’d blossomed into an even more remarkable woman. The PI had captured her in motion, glancing up, lips painted red, her hair a halo of curls. The black trench coat was a good look. A modern pinup. He preferred her hair long, but for now, the shorter style would do. She’d need to begin growing it out again, though. He wanted it down to her shoulders by the time they were together.
The rest of the images were more or less average, but that first one...it took his breath away.
Raul pulled his Jeep up behind Miranda’s house. He was easily twice as anxious about tonight after making an utter fool of himself. Then there were the texts. After he woke up to the picture of Miranda’s lips, she’d steadily supplied him with even more enticing images throughout the day.
Oh, they were all under the guise of keeping him appraised of the kittens, but when she had three of them crawling all over her chest it was hard to not find himself staring...
He snagged the flowers in the passenger seat and bounded up the stairs to her back door. She stood at the kitchen counter, where he’d left her last night, only now she was peering into pizza boxes.
Inhaling, he pushed the door open and stepped in, wiping his damp feet on the mat.
“Oh my gosh.” She laid her hand against her chest. “Next time—knock once at least? I just got home.”
“Sorry.” He crossed the kitchen and set the flowers down on the countertop.
“Those are pretty.”
“Pretty flowers for a pretty lady.”
Miranda watched him, one side of her mouth hitched up in a knowing smile. Was she aware of how badly she’d teased him all day?
He circled the island until they were back where they’d left off. Her against the counter, their bodies inches apart.
“Is this where I’m supposed to tell you it’s okay to kiss me?” She tipped her chin up.
“You already told me that.”
“I did?”
“You did.” He pushed his fingers through her curls, watching the way they sprang back into place. Her lids lowered, and in a matter of seconds the only thing he was hungry for was her. “Do you want to eat first?”
“Nope.” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling her up against him and dug his other hand further into her hair. Her lips worked in time with his. Their tongues tangled, she bit his lip, and he tugged her hair. In an instant they were right back to where they’d been last night, a mere second from stripping each other naked. It was a frenzied, passionate moment that threatened to burn them up.
Raul lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist. She yelped into his mouth, her hands clawing at his shoulders.
“Put me down!” Her eyes opened wide.
“Nope.”
“Raul—I’m heavy. Put me down.” She wiggled and shimmied, but he was used to man-handling much bigger creatures with more determination to be ground-bound than her.
He turned and put her back against the fridge, pinning her there with his hips. He kissed the corner of her mouth and squeezed her ass with both hands.
“I think I’ll keep you right—here.” He flexed his hips, grinding against her.
Her eyes nearly rolled back into her head, and she moaned. He kissed down her neck to the edge of her tank top. He hooked his finger under the material and pulled it down.
Mr. Purr-fect and the Geek (Gone Geek, #2) Page 4
