Kiss Me Here (Working Men Love #2)

by Hayden Wolfe

  “There’s fresh coffee and doughnuts in the waiting area. I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Wyn yelled.

  The door clicked closed. He turned his attention back to his task. A few moments later, the rolling platform under him moved.

  He dropped his tools. “What the—”

  Slender and shapely legs he’d licked the previous night came into view. He swept his gaze over Iona. She wore the same outfit she’d had on the day they’d met, minus the heeled sandals. Those dangled from her hand.

  “Hi.” She gave him an impish smile. “Did I surprise you?”

  “Yeah.” He wrapped his hand loosely around her ankle. “I was starting to wonder if you’d ditch me.”

  She raised a brow. “Did we have plans?”

  “Unspoken ones.” He dropped his gaze to her denim shorts. “Wicked ones involving my tongue on your clit.”

  She straddled him and propped her elbows on his chest. Her shorts and his work pants separated them, but the memory of sinking into her welcoming body thickened his cock. A knowing grin on her face, she wiggled over him. Pleasure shot straight to his balls. He groaned, and she chuckled. “I thought we were going to have lunch.”

  He settled his hands on her hips, holding her over his aching dick. “We are, and you’re on the menu.”

  Lust darkened her eyes. “Don’t I get to eat? I am hungry.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll hand feed you later.”

  “Mmmm, sounds good, but…” She undid the buttons of his shirt. The material parted. She danced her fingertips over his abs. “It’s going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

  He tensed. She stilled her teasing caress but didn’t meet his gaze. Alarm bells went off. “Why’s that?”

  Her shrug answered him. She tugged his shirt free.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Why is that, Iona?”

  “Blaine is coming to the States. I’m going to meet her right after I leave here.”

  She didn’t say where. Trepidation settled over him. “You didn’t mention your friend was flying in.”

  Gaze still locked onto his stomach, she gave a half shrug. “She wasn’t positive she’d be able to come. It depended on the photo shoot for her new album.”

  He knew all about Iona’s best friend and her worry that Blaine would turn into a cold, lonely woman like Blaine’s mother. Over the almost three weeks they’d known each other, he’d learned about Iona’s friends, childhood, her fears, and her dreams. They’d talked about almost everything, except Dmitry.

  “Then it’s a good thing we kept tonight open.” He tipped up her chin and waited until she met his gaze. “As soon as I finish with this car, we can go pick her up. It won’t take long. Fifteen minutes tops. Is she flying in to Philly?”

  “No. I don’t want you to come.” She sucked in a rough breath. “Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with you. I do. I just want to visit with her alone.”

  He cracked his jaw. Dammit, he didn’t want to doubt her. “A girls’ night out, huh?”

  “Yes.” A grin spread as if she’d just thought of the idea. “Exactly.”

  He glanced into her brown eyes and decided she sucked at lying, not that he’d complain about the insight it gave him. He just hated that she felt the need to make up the excuse. He wouldn’t care if she’d wanted to see her friend.

  Hands wrapped around her waist, he lifted her off him before his expression gave away his annoyance. He stood and started putting away tools he still needed. “The jazz band is back again this week. Being a singer, Blaine might like it.”

  “She’s not coming to Sander’s Valley. We’re staying in New York tonight.”

  Her careful tone stirred more doubt. He glanced over his shoulder. “Really? What do you two have planned?”

  “We’re going to a fund-raiser.”

  No hesitation. She’d known exactly what her plans had been and that she didn’t want to include him in them.

  He curled his fingers into a fist. His knuckles cracked. He took a deep breath and forced his hands to unclench. “One of those black-tie affairs you were telling me about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, too bad I can’t go. I’d love to see you all dressed up.” He strode to her and skimmed his fingers over her denim-covered hip. “I’m so used to seeing you dressed like this, I forget that you’re rich.”

  She covered his hand. “I went shopping before coming here. I didn’t have anything to wear that would fit this area. I didn’t want to stand out.”

  He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She leaned back in his embrace, letting him take her weight. “You did, though. One look and I knew you were playing the part.”

  She frowned. “What part is that?”

  “Country girl.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I must admit I feel a little cheated. Here I am sharing my bed with you, but I don’t know you, not completely.”

  She tightened her grip on his shirt. “I’ve told you lots of stories about me.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Of course not. It’s impossible to share every detail in the few weeks we’ve known each other.”

  She still didn’t refer to them as being in a relationship, but if someone called her his girlfriend, she didn’t deny it. Of course, she didn’t acknowledge it either. If he’d been a different man, the distinction might’ve bothered him. It didn’t. Their relationship worked for him, title or not. When they were together, she called him hers. It was good enough for him.

  “I’d like to go with you to one of those parties.” He brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek. “I’ll even buy a tux so I’m ready on a moment’s notice.”

  She smiled, a full, heartwarming grin that did crazy things to him, body and heart. “Okay, but honestly, they’re not fun. You’ll be bored out of your mind.”

  “If I have you, I won’t be.” He skimmed his hand to her ass and massaged. “You always keep my attention.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Before he could say anything else, she pulled his head to hers and kissed him, not deeply or aggressively, but so damn sensually it rocked him. The warm feeling he’d started to associate with her spread. Love, that was what filled him up. Every damn day the emotion grew, along with his hunger for her body, her touch, and her affection.

  He rocked into her. Their height difference made the angle awkward. He didn’t care. His dick ached. He needed to part her muscles. Pound into her. Feel the clenching waves of her release and follow her. A groan crawled up his throat. He tightened his grip on her hips and lifted her. He’d carry her back to his office. Take her hard and fast.

  She turned her head, breaking their kiss. “Wyn, wait.”

  He pressed his lips to her ear. “I need you.”

  “I know.” She eased back.

  The expression of pure awe she sometimes wore around him gave her features an angelic and innocent edge. No matter how many times he saw it, he hadn’t quite figured out what put it there. His actions, maybe? Actually, that was probably it. Only, he didn’t know what was so special about them.

  He brushed his thumb over her swollen lower lip. “I like when you look at me this way, darling.”

  “You make me happy.” She dragged her fingertips from his jaw to the back of his head, making him burn. He bent closer, and she massaged his scalp. “You don’t know how much it means to me to have you focus on me. Reach for me. Include me in whatever you’re doing.”

  “Because Dmitry didn’t.”

  She took a step back, and a guarded mask slid over her features, hiding the love she’d worn for him moments ago. Dammit, he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

  He hooked his arm around her waist to stop her from running. “Don’t shut down on me. I want to be the man you need, but I can’t do that if you don’t share your past with me.”

  “I really don’t want to talk about Dmitry right now. I’m supposed to pick up Blaine at—”

  “Iona.” He waited until she met his gaze. “Wh
at better time? I have a feeling hearing what he did to hurt you is going to make me angry.” He cupped her cheek. “His actions fucked me over too. Telling me now will give me the chance to deal with it. The last thing I want to do is take it out on you.”

  A deep vee formed between her brows. “I don’t understand. How did Dmitry hurt you?”

  He laid a hand over the swell of her left breast. “He broke your heart, and since it’s mine to cherish now, I need to heal it. I can’t do that without knowing what the bastard did.”

  A shaky breath escaped her parted lips. “Oh.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his grin. He loved reducing her to one-word responses. “Tell me why you broke up with him.”

  She dropped her gaze to his chest. “He cheated on me.”

  “And what else?”

  She flicked her gaze to his. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “Yeah.” And if Eric hadn’t overheard her talking to the prick, Wyn would’ve accepted it. “But I still remember how you reacted the first day we met. You were scared of me.”

  Her brows pinched. “I wasn’t. I let you kiss me within minutes of meeting you.”

  The memory flashed before him. He didn’t think he’d ever forget how his world had shifted that day, but nothing would erase the terror in her eyes when he’d first stood. “You flinched. It killed me to see you afraid, but I knew it wasn’t me who put that haunted look on your face. After being with you these past weeks, I can’t help thinking it was Dmitry who did.”

  “I was right about you.” She grinned. “You are intelligent.”

  He chuckled. “I barely graduated high school. I’m not smart, but I trust my instincts, and mine flared then.” And now. She was holding the truth close. “Come on, love. Talk.”

  She pushed out of his embrace on a huff. With practiced ease, she slipped into her heels. Long strides of her short legs took her across the garage to the waiting room. He followed. She poured a cup of coffee with trembling hands. Liquid sloshed in the cup. The sight twisted a knife into his chest. He took the coffee from her and finished making it, adding a quarter packet of sugar, not artificial sweetener, and half of a single-serve liquid creamer. The coffee barely changed color, but she liked it that way. He handed it back to her.

  “Thank you.” She gripped the cup and brought it to her lips but didn’t drink. She closed her eyelids on a deep inhale. “It’s really not as bad as you think. It’s just that I feel foolish. Five years I wasted on him.” She opened her eyes and pierced him with her annoyed glare. “Five years, Wyn, and I never really knew him.”

  His first instinct was to start asking questions. He ignored the compulsion. She was talking. He’d let her reveal what bothered her on her terms.

  She took a sip of her coffee, then another. Her gaze strayed to him. He leaned against the wall, ankles and arms crossed, and waited. She sighed.

  “I thought he was perfect. He came from a rich family, and we got along. He was never mean to me.” She shrugged. “Sure, he belittled some of my choices. Sometimes asked me to change clothes or ignored me in public, but nothing he did was different from what my friends’ boyfriends and husbands did. I was used to it. Do you understand?”

  He had his answer to why she looked at him in awe sometimes. His show of love and support was a foreign concept to her. Maybe not literally, but it had never touched her life until him. He cracked his jaw. “Yeah. I do.”

  “I never picked up on the clues of his personality until we fought over the escort I found him with. He blamed me for his infidelity, told me all sorts of crazy things, and made me realize I never knew him.” She set the foam cup on top of the old television. “I wasn’t his partner. I was his possession. His toy. His little princess.”

  The tremor in her voice sliced him open. He went to her and pulled her into his arms. She wrapped hers around him and snuggled against his chest. He laid his cheek on top of her head and took a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms. He didn’t know how he’d ended up with her, but he knew he wouldn’t destroy their love as her ex had. A woman like Iona only came around once in a lifetime. A smart man knew not to fuck that up.

  Yeah, maybe he thought of her as his woman, but he was also hers. They were equals. Partners. Friends.

  He pressed his lips to her cheek, giving her a small, chaste kiss he hoped expressed how much she meant to him. “Which is why you tensed up when I said you reminded me of a princess.”

  She tipped her head. Her narrowed gaze caught his. “You noticed?”

  He nodded. “What else did he do to you that night?”

  She glanced away. “We fought. I threw his ring in his face and told him we were done.”

  “He didn’t take it well.”

  She released her tight hold on him and took a step back. “No, he didn’t.”

  Silence stretched. He didn’t want to push her, but he couldn’t stand not knowing. “And?”

  She rubbed her neck, then stilled her fingers after a moment and dropped her hand. “He wrapped his hands around my throat and slammed me into the wall. Then he told me we weren’t over, that we’d never be over.”

  Wyn stepped behind her and drew her against him, wishing he’d known her then and could’ve spared her the pain. “He beat you.”

  “No. After he delivered his promise, he let me go without a mark. I started to question the whole thing, that maybe I had read into it and was overreacting.” She turned in the loose circle of his arms and laid her palms against his chest. “Then the calls started, the demands I return to him, the weird coincidences that made me wonder if he hadn’t hired someone to follow me.”

  “Did he?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t have any proof, so I did my best to ignore him. Being in the States has helped. He wasn’t calling as much.”

  “But he is now?”

  Another shrug. She focused on his chest. “Not really.”

  She was still hiding something. Anger whipped through him. “Then what’s changed over the past couple of days? You’ve been turning off your cell and going into a different room to listen to your messages.”

  A long, weary sigh escaped. “I told him I’d moved on. He’s been calling to arrange the return of all the stuff I left at his house and wants the things at mine. I don’t want to talk to him, so I’ve been listening to his voice mails, then texting him.”

  After what she said about Dmitry’s possessiveness, Wyn didn’t buy the one-eighty in his attitude. “No threats?”

  She laid her cheek against him and tightened her grip around his waist. “He didn’t threaten me.”

  “Are you telling me that after everything, he’s just going to let you go?”

  “I told him I’m not returning to Russia, and if he didn’t leave me alone, I’d charge him with harassment. We agreed to exchange our belongings.” She cleared her throat. “I’m giving my keys to Blaine. She’s going to handle the packing. That way I won’t have to deal with it.”

  It made sense, but something about her explanation bothered him. He couldn’t figure out what. “And you didn’t want me to know.”

  “I just want to put the past behind me and move on.” She cupped his cheek. “Dmitry lives in a different country, and you’re here.”

  He took her hand and twined their fingers. The unspoken acknowledgment that she planned to stay with him should’ve pleased him. He couldn’t get past her blatant attempt to keep him in the dark about her ex. How the hell were they supposed to build a relationship if she didn’t include him in her worries?

  “You should’ve told me about Dmitry. I have a right to know.”

  She pulled her hand back. “Why is that?”

  The guarded look she wore warned him to tread carefully. He couldn’t let it go, however. They needed to set some ground rules. “Because you’re my girl. I should be the one at your back, supporting you and giving you strength.”

  “And you have been there for me, but I need to handle some things on my own.” She
crossed her arms under her breasts. “You’re going to have to trust me to make this right.”

  And there it was—the line in the sand. He could push her or do what she proposed: trust her. He only had one choice.

  “All right, darling, but the moment I think you need me, I’m going to step in and take care of you.”

  She tugged on his shoulders. He leaned down, and she kissed his cheek. “Of course you will. You are my knight, right?”

  “Yeah. I won’t let you down. Ever.

  Chapter 16

  Iona grabbed a sleep shirt from her dresser. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed it on the bed with the other items she’d packed. Despite what she’d told Wyn, she doubted she’d stay the night in New York, but she wanted to be prepared.

  She only needed panties and a bra, and she’d be ready. She tugged the drawer open. A box from the local clothing store sat on top of her underwear.

  A warm, giddy feeling spread within her. Every day since she’d started staying at Wyn’s house, he’d left her something special. The first morning, she’d found a plate of cut-up fruit on the table for breakfast. The next day, he’d propped a copy of a movie she’d mentioned liking by her alarm clock. Yesterday, she’d found a wrapped sandwich in the fridge because he hadn’t been able to meet her for lunch. The little offerings warmed her.

  She grinned and yanked the lid off. A set of white lace lingerie filled the box. She chuckled. Wyn adored her in white. She ran her finger over the edge of the bra cups, which would barely hide her nipples.

  Images of them together flashed through her head. Her lower belly warmed. She’d had more sex in the past three weeks than she’d had over the past three years, which was enough in itself to quicken her breath. The way Wyn held her afterward, however, was what made every encounter, from the wicked to the sweet, memorable.