You Might Just Get It

by Julia Barrett

  You Might Just Get It

  Copyright 2009 Julia Barrett

  Cover Artist: Winterheart Design

  Special Thanks to Stacey Espino

  All Rights Reserved

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All events, names, characters and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  You Might Just Get It

  Copyright Julia Barrett

  “Oh my God! This is so yummy! Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Of course I did, Kate. I can’t leave a damsel in distress dripping on my doorstep.”

  Kate put a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. She didn’t think it would be polite to smile with a mouthful of sandwich.

  “No, I mean this supper. It’s really nice of you and this is amazing.”

  “You saw me make it, it’s nothing really. Took me all of five minutes.”

  Kate watched Eric take a bite of his own sandwich. Egg yolk ran down the back of his fingers. Kate looked on, her mouth suddenly dry, as he turned his hand over and licked the bright yellow yolk with a pink tongue. Kate almost licked her lips in response, but she caught herself. She swallowed, hard, instead.

  “I’m so embarrassed to be locked out again.”

  “Not your fault,” replied Eric, grinning at her. He reached over and delicately rubbed her lower lip. “Egg yolk,” was all he said.

  Kate could feel herself blushing.

  “These sandwiches hit the spot, but you either have to be prepared to use a lot of napkins or do a lot of licking. And I‘m out of napkins.”

  Kate had been waiting on the stoop, drenched and shivering, hoping for somebody, anybody to show up, when Eric arrived home. For the fourth time in a week, her electronic key card hadn’t worked and she was stuck outside the building. She’d run out in the rain to retrieve a book from her car, barefoot, wearing a threadbare tee shirt and baggy jeans, only to find she couldn‘t get back in. If Eric hadn’t come by when he did, she’d have had to walk several blocks to the neighborhood grocery store to call a friend. She’d left her cell phone sitting on the kitchen table, along with a card on which she’d written down the security company‘s phone number after the last time she‘d gotten locked out. Eric was nice enough to let her in, for the second time in two days, and kind enough to invite her over for something hot to eat.

  She’d changed quickly and toweled off her hair, but it was still damp. She felt the wet curls against the side of her face and she automatically brushed them back. She saw Eric’s eyes follow the movement of her hand. Kate deliberately looked down at her plate. She picked up a piece of arugula that had fallen from her sandwich and popped it into her mouth.

  “So, you’re a chef?” she asked, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with her thoughts.

  “I was, but I’m not working as a chef right now.”

  Kate looked up. “Oh? Why not?”

  “Coming up with a business plan. Doing some research.” Eric stopped speaking to take a big bite. He chewed for a few moments. “I’d like to open my own place, but I need to figure a few things out.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, location, size, marketing, staffing, theme. This is a maybe. I want to be very cautious. Most restaurants go out of business within the first year. I don’t want to be one of them.”

  “I can understand that,” said Kate. “Nobody wants to lose their shirt.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Eric winked at her. “I can think of any number of situations where I’d like to lose my shirt.”

  Kate felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the man was flirting with her.

  “It’s okay, Kate, you can smile. You have a lovely smile.”

  “Yes.” She allowed herself a small, self-deprecating, laugh. “Just lovely with egg sandwich all over my teeth.”

  Eric reached a long arm across the table and, in a delicate motion, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Yes, even if you did have egg sandwich all over your teeth, you would still have a lovely smile.”

  Kate shivered. No man had touched her like that in five years. Not since way before her divorce. He was definitely flirting with her. Eric had to be, what? At least ten years younger than she was. God, maybe fifteen. Why was she doing this? Sitting here at a table in a man’s apartment, eating his food, allowing herself to be disarmed by his charm, fantasizing about things forty-one year old women weren’t supposed to do with twenty-something year old, very attractive men.

  “You’re a nurse, right?” Eric asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Just, yes? Not yes, I work intensive care or yes, I do oncology nursing? Just, yes?”

  Kate smiled again. She couldn’t help it. His good humor was infectious. “I don’t talk much about my work. It freaks some people out. I’m a hospice nurse.”

  “Oh, so you see dead people.”

  Eric’s delivery was so deadpan Kate nearly spit out a mouthful of bread.

  “Yes.” She laughed. “I see dead people. Where’d you pick up the hospice humor?”

  “Friend of mine. She’s a medical social worker. I guess you have to laugh or you can’t do the job, right?”

  “You got it,” replied Kate. She took a sip of the fresh squeezed orange juice Eric had poured for her. She raised her glass to him. “Nice,” she said. “I ought to buy myself a juicer.”

  “No need,” said Eric. “You can use mine anytime you want.”

  ***

  Eric lifted his eyes and studied the woman seated across the small table from him. Her damp curls surrounded her head like a halo. The first time he’d seen her, in the window across the courtyard, her hair had been damp, just like this. Sweet. Very appealing. He doubted she had any idea her kitchen window looked directly into his. Probably not. She’d only moved in ten days ago. Eric assumed she was still busy unpacking. That was one of the reasons he’d invited her to dinner, one reason among many. He wondered briefly how old Kate was. It was hard to tell. She could be anywhere from twenty-nine to forty-five. But he wasn’t about to ask her and he didn’t care. Her age didn’t matter to him. Her laugh did. Her big brown eyes did. Her luscious lips. Her wide white smile.

  When he’d arrived home and found her soaked to the skin and shivering on the stoop, he got to play the hero. That was twice in two days. There was no way he’d pass up an opportunity to spend time with her. He’d hoped she’d accept his offer of dinner and he‘d been pleased when she did. It was no big deal, one of his easy meals. Oven toasted rustic bread with melted gruyere, roasted tomatoes, baby arugula and a soft fried egg. Simple and sensuous. The sandwich was messy and it required the use of all your fingers. There was a lot of runny egg yolk and licking involved. Eric hoped he could segue that licking into something else entirely.

  God, there was a lot to like about her. Not only was Kate easy on the eyes, she was intelligent, articulate, mature, and she appreciated his sense of humor. Plus she blushed at the drop of a hat. Eric found that adorable. She wasn’t jaded or flighty, like so many women he’d met recently. He’d bet the farm she hadn’t grown up in California. Probably Iowa or Illinois. Someplace rural. An old-fashioned country girl.

  “Where’d you come from? I mean, where are you from originally?” he asked.

  “Blair, Nebraska. It’s a little town near the Missouri River. I went to schoo
l there. Dana College. You?”

  “Minneapolis.”

  “You’re kidding? You don’t have a Minnesota accent.”

  “Yeah, well, I worked hard getting rid of that. I can do it if you like.”

  “You mean like…Minnesooooota, North Dakoooooota, ya think? Like that?”

  It was Eric’s turn to laugh. “More or less.” He looked at her plate. “Finished?”

  “Oh, yes, thank you. The sandwich was great. I can cook, but I guess it never occurred to me that such simple ingredients could taste so good together.” Kate reached for his empty plate and set it on top of hers. “Let me help clean up. That’s the least I can do.”

  He watched as Kate rose from her chair and stretched. The view pleased him. Her breasts were pert. Not large, but pert with perky nipples. Two handfuls. That’s all he needed.

  “You have a long day today?”

  “Not too bad. Really. It would have been better if I hadn’t locked myself out. But what can you do? I was sort of hoping to curl up in a hot bath with a good book, but I left my book in the car and then the key… Well, you know the story.” Kate carried the plates to the sink.

  Eric followed with the empty glasses. “You can still have a hot bath,” he said.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she replied, rinsing off the plates.

  Eric set the glasses down on the counter and ran a hand lightly through the chestnut locks that hugged the back of her neck. He watched goose bumps rise as he trailed his fingers along her shoulders. He heard Kate’s sharp intake of breath. He waited momentarily to see if she’d move away, but she remained still.

  “I mean, if you’re interested, you could have a hot bath…with me.” Eric lowered his mouth to the tender juncture between her neck and her shoulder and lightly moved his lips over her soft skin. God, she smelled sweet. Like fresh, spring rain. He felt Kate’s breathing quicken and he wondered if she would bolt, but she stayed where she was. He moved his hands down her arms and wrapped his hands around hers beneath the running water. His long fingers twined through hers. She didn’t pull away.

  Kate raised her head and stared at his reflection in the window. Her eyes were wide. “Eric,” she said softly, “We’ve only known each other for ten days and even at that, this is the most time we’ve spent in each other’s company. I’m not sure, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

  Eric stood behind her, meeting her gaze in the window. “I think it’s a very good idea,” he replied. “I’ve been thinking about it since the day you moved in and I saw you across the courtyard. Through this very window.”

  “You can see me?” she asked.

  “Just your head.” Eric chuckled. “When you’re in the kitchen. I like your hair damp like this. I like the way it curls around your face.”

  Another intake of breath.

  “Eric…I…what about…I mean…” Kate began to pull her hands away. “We’re not the same age.”

  “No, we’re not,” he answered. “And that’s an issue because?”

  “It’s an issue because I’m older than you.” Her voice was husky.

  “An issue for whom?”

  “You? Me?”

  Eric kept his voice low. “Kate, if it was an issue for me, I wouldn’t be standing here, trying to keep from pressing against you because I’m so hard it hurts.”

  Staring at Kate’s reflection, he watched her eyes close. Her lips parted and a tiny sound, almost a whimper, escaped her. His wet hands left hers and he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, drawing her backwards, drawing her close, pressing her shapely bottom against his erection. He wasn’t lying to her. His cock throbbed behind the zipper of his jeans, eager and aching to be buried inside the heat of the woman in front of him. If, and this was a big if, Kate would give him the opportunity.

  Eric didn’t find many women this intriguing at first glance. When he prepared a meal, he refused to settle for anything less than the best quality ingredients available. He felt the same about women. He didn’t like drama. He didn’t like guessing. He wasn’t attracted to gigglers. He preferred a mature woman. One who knew what she wanted, where she was going. A woman who knew her way around her own body. Knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid to show a man how to give it to her. Younger women tended to be too self-conscious for his taste. It often seemed to Eric as if many of the younger women he’d dated acted like being in bed with a man was an audition tape. They tried to turn love making into a performance. He found it a big turn-off..

  The minute he’d spotted Kate across the courtyard, he felt something, a tug in her direction. It didn’t hurt that she had short hair. For some reason, Eric had a thing for a woman with short, dark hair. Not to mention her other assets. She met all his requirements. Kate was smart. She had a lovely smile and a contagious laugh. And she possessed sweet, perky breasts with those perpetually erect nipples. They’d poked so enticingly through the thin material of her wet tee shirt when he’d found her on the stoop that his cock had begun twitching immediately. She had a slender waist and nicely flaring hips, and she possessed incredibly long legs that could wrap around a man while he pumped into her. Eric wanted those long legs wrapped around him, tonight.

  ***

  When Eric pulled her to him, and she felt the ridge of his erection pressed against her bottom, Kate nearly swooned. A voice in her head spoke up. How silly that would be. Don’t swoon. Say yes. When was the last time you had an offer like this? Years ago, lady, years ago. Say yes, Kate. Say yes.

  Eric turned her around slowly and looked into her eyes. A wet finger stroked her cheek, asking permission. He opened his mouth as if to say something.

  “Don’t speak,” Kate ordered. “Just kiss me before I change my mind.”

  “With pleasure,” Eric growled, and his mouth descended upon hers. Hot. Hungry. Demanding.

  Kate’s lips parted beneath his onslaught and her tongue touched his. She felt Eric’s hands in her hair, gently but firmly positioning her head where he wanted her, allowing him the deepest access to her willing mouth. Her body automatically molded itself against his hard length. Before she knew it, her arms were around him, her nails digging into his shoulders while the man liberally explored her mouth. Taking his time, tasting his way.

  Soft sounds escaped Kate’s throat. Whimpers. Moans. Sounds she hadn’t heard herself make in a very long time, except in her dreams. Eric’s mouth left hers and trailed along her jaw line. Kate threw her head back. He took the hint and nipped his way down her neck, his movements slow, deliberate; his lips warm and insistent. Kate felt his hand on her waist, beneath her shirt. His touch seared her skin as he moved his palm upward, seeking her breast. His hand closed around her, fingers toying with her sensitive tip through the lace of her bra.

  “Oh God…” Kate gasped. “Eric…”

  In an instant she found herself lifted onto the countertop. Her tee shirt was suddenly pulled over her head and tossed aside. Kate watched Eric use a free hand to tug off his own shirt. She reached for his lean, sculpted chest, feeling a ripple run just below his skin as her fingers touched him. With little effort, Eric undid the front clasp of her bra and freed her breasts.

  “You’re so lovely,” he murmured, staring at her in unabashed appreciation. He lowered his mouth to a rosy nipple. His mouth felt hot against her and he sucked urgently, rolling the tight bud between his tongue and his palate. He nipped at her.

  When Eric licked his way to her other peak, Kate leaned back to wrap her long legs around his waist, drawing his lower body closer. She heard him practically growl with desire. She could feel how hard the man was as he rubbed rhythmically against her through their jeans, even as he concentrated on her other nipple with the same exquisite attention to detail he’d paid to the first. Kate’s head dropped forward, her breathing shallow, rapid.

  “Eric…” She cried out. “God…yes…” Any more of this and she would come right there sitting in front of the kitchen sink, water running behind her.

  ***

 
; Eric pulled his mouth away from Kate’s breast, breathing hard. He placed a hand on either side of her face and slanted his mouth over hers. He thrust his tongue inside, ruthless now. He lifted his head and looked at her, seeing her flushed face, swollen lips, hooded eyes.

  “Not yet, lover,” he murmured against her mouth. “Not yet. I want to taste you first.”

  Eric heard Kate whimper at his words. God, she made such glorious sounds. He reached behind her and flipped off the faucet. Kate’s legs still wrapped around his waist, Eric lifted her from the counter. His mouth on hers, he stumbled through the kitchen with her in his arms. He made it as far as the living room where he sat her on the couch and knelt in front of her. With a groan, he unzipped his jeans and freed himself. He ached to be inside the woman. He couldn’t remember ever being this fucking hard. But he wanted to taste her. He had to feel her silky skin against his lips. He wanted to watch Kate come before he allowed himself the ultimate pleasure of thrusting his cock inside her. She was so beautiful, with her long legs and her smooth, slender body and those big brown eyes that questioned his motives but accepted his actions nonetheless.

  Eric could sense Kate was exactly what she seemed, a woman who had lived a little. Who had learned how to laugh, how to lose graciously, how to say thank you when a man complimented her, instead of asking if some dress made her look fat.

  Christ, she turned him on. He felt her hands on his shoulders, waiting for him to make the next move, silently begging him to make the next move. He reached for the snap on her jeans. He stripped them from her, eyes locked on her face. Eric watched her bite her lower lip in anticipation. He smiled when he saw her black boy shorts. No silk thong for Kate. Eric very slowly slid his palms along the inside of her satiny thighs, savoring the feel of every inch. Her legs began to shake as her spread them wider, giving him access and a view of what he was about to do. His thumbs reached the edge of her shorts and he slid them beneath, one on each side, touching the delicate, silk inside.