by Kenner, J.
But what a way to go.
Far too soon, she broke the kiss, then rose just enough so she could meet his eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that again since the moment I decided to stay.”
“Thank goodness,” he said, then waggled his brows. “Wanna go back to my place?”
She laughed. “Yes. But no.” She shifted so that she was sitting on him, straddling his waist. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea,” she said softly, her words making him feel cold. Both because he didn’t want to hear them, and because he actually agreed with them. “But I want this too much to stop completely.”
“Completely?”
“I mean I want to take it slow. Is that okay?”
He reached up and cupped her cheek, then looked deep into those dark, beautiful eyes. “Sugar, that sounds just about perfect.”
Her smile seemed to light her from the inside, and she shifted her face so that she could kiss the palm of his hand. The sensation was unexpectedly erotic, and he felt the pull of her lips all the way down to his cock. Christ, he wanted her. But she was right. Slow was better.
“Eva,” he murmured. “About that slow thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me,” he demanded. “Kiss me long and slow.”
Her lips twitched with amusement, and then she bent over, brushed her lips over his, and did exactly what he asked.
* * *
Any lingering fears that Eli or Elena would find the new family arrangement to be awkward or weird or untenable were quashed the first time that Elena and Eva came to Tyree’s place for a family dinner.
It was, he thought, the perfect mixture of chaos and fun.
Elena had brought some Nintendo gadget that made Eli’s eyes bug out, and he swore that he’d been intending to ask for one for his birthday. When she’d plugged the small device into the television, basically turning it into a gaming console, Tyree’s usually calm and collected teenager went absolutely apeshit.
“She picked the perfect ice breaker,” Tyree commented as he returned to the kitchen after taking a peek at the newly acquainted brother and sister hunched over their controllers as they killed bad guys—or possibly aliens—on the television screen.
“It wasn’t as altruistic as you think,” Eva said from where she was perched on a barstool watching Tyree finish putting together the enchiladas he was making for dinner. “Elena’s been a gaming fanatic since she was fifteen. That gizmo was her Christmas present last December. She begged me not to get her any little presents and to put all the money I’d budgeted for her toward it. So I’m going to go out on a limb and say that she and Eli are going to get along even better than we’d hoped.”
“I think you may be right,” he said, then tossed aside the oven mitt he’d used to pull out the dish and move it onto a trivet.
He came around the bar and sat on the stool beside her, the words she just spoke echoing in his head. “The budget,” he repeated, feeling like a complete ass. “Hell, Eva, I never thought to ask. Is being here messing you up financially?”
He’d assumed she had money. Because, frankly, when he’d known her in San Diego she’d had lots of it. Or, at least, her father had.
She shook her head. “No, I told you. I was going on vacation. So, actually, you saved me a ton on the hotel I’m not staying at.” She flashed a grin as if to reassure him she wasn’t upset about missing her trip. “And don’t forget, Jenna’s paying me the same as the photographer who trotted off to Milan.”
“Still, I’m sorry. I just assumed you could afford it.”
She pressed her hand over his. “It’s fine. But, yeah, my dad cut me off. No more resources from him from the day I filed for divorce from David. And everything in his estate went to charity, with the exception of some boxes of family memorabilia.”
Tyree cringed, despising the man even more than he already did.
“That’s where I found the letter from him confessing that he’d only pretended you were dead. And the letter wasn’t even to me. I guess he just wanted to clear his conscience. And there were five letters from you to me. I’d never seen even one of them before.”
A hard ball of anger settled in his stomach, and, frankly, it was a good thing the old man was dead. Because if he wasn’t, Tyree would have been tempted to hop on a plane to San Diego and go have a few words.
“He screwed us both over,” she said gently, obviously reading his mind. “But all we can do now is go forward.” She met his eyes. “Like this,” she added, then bent forward and kissed him, slow and sweet and so tender it melted that ball of steel that had formed in his gut, replacing it with a building heat that fired his blood and made him regret that the kids were in the living room.
“Whoa. Nice work, Dad,” Eli’s voice shattered the moment, and they burst apart like guilty teenagers.
Speaking of the kids…
“Don’t mind me,” Eli said, holding his hands up. “I just wanted to check on dinner.”
“Five minutes,” Tyree said.
Eli’s brow rose. “Yeah? You work quick, Dad.”
He tossed a dishrag at his son. “Twerp,” he said, as the boy ran out, and Eva laughed.
“He really is great,” she said, and Tyree had to completely agree.
They ended up eating the enchiladas on TV trays in the living room, which wasn’t exactly the family meal he’d envisioned. But the kids wanted to finish their game, and then Eva suggested they watch a movie after that. So once the enchiladas had been devoured, the kids reluctantly unplugged the Nintendo and they surfed the streaming services until they found—of all things—the original Disney Parent Trap.
Both Tyree and Eva insisted on watching it, even though Elena seemed completely clueless as to why they were both so amused by the idea.
And although both kids had protested at first—especially Eli, who begged for “anything from this millennium”—they’d ended up enjoying it. Which Tyree considered a bonus, especially since the original movie was more than half a century old. Not quite a millennium, but still ancient for a teen.
It had even spawned a conversation about California, though the story was set at the top of the state, and Elena and Eva had come from San Diego.
“It would be totally cool to live there,” Eli said. “I mean, I could learn to surf. That would be awesome.”
Best of all, Tyree had spent the evening on the couch with Eva curled up beside him, her head on his chest, and his hand resting on her arm.
The whole evening had been nice. Hell, it had been perfect.
Maybe too perfect. Because the truth was, he could get used to this.
More than that, he wanted to.
Chapter Fourteen
The biggest downside of Eva shooting all the photographs of the winners was that every few days she needed to just hunker down, focus on her computer screen, and work on cleaning up all the images.
And to do that, she really needed to be alone.
She’d tried taking her laptop to The Fix, but the hum of activity had distracted her, and even when she’d moved into Tyree’s back office, she’d been unable to concentrate. Already, the staff and regulars had become her friends, and she wanted to be out there with them, not off hiding in a corner.
Finally, she’d given up and told Tyree that on the days she needed to work in Photoshop, she was going to do it in Elena’s apartment with her phone turned off.
Today was one of those days, and though she’d managed to focus for most of the day, by the time evening rolled around, her mind had begun to wander. Because, dammit, she wanted to be with Tyree.
She told herself to stop acting like a lovesick teenager and finish her work, and the effect of that stern talking-to lasted for a good twenty minutes. Then she found her mind wandering again. Scheming. Justifying. Because why not go to the bar? The images would still be on her computer tomorrow. And it wasn’t as if she had a firm deadline to edit the shots. She was simply trying to keep ahead of the work. But surely a few hours on a
Monday night wouldn’t throw her too far off schedule. Would it?
She told herself that it absolutely wouldn’t, decided she might as well listen to the little devil on her shoulder, then stood up to go toss on something more presentable than the cut-off pair of Elena’s sweatpants she’d pulled on after her shower that morning. And the tank top, while comfortable in the Austin heat, really wasn’t appropriate attire, especially since she was wearing it without a bra.
She’d just stood up to go change when she heard the knock at the front door. She hurried that way, expecting it to be the downstairs neighbor, coming to return the screwdriver she’d borrowed that morning.
Instead, she found herself staring at Tyree.
“Oh,” she said, then cursed her utter lack of imagination. Why couldn’t she have said something clever or sexy? Probably because at the moment she felt ratty, not sexy, but she stood back and let him enter, anyway.
But as soon as she’d shut the door behind him, she had to rethink that whole sexy thing, because he was looking at her with so much lust that all of her fears about no longer being attractive to him went right out the window. The outfit she wore left very little to the imagination, and if the way his heated gaze was roaming over her—making her blood fire in response—Tyree was more than happy with the way she filled out the shorts and tank.
“Good Lord, woman. You’re going to give a man a heart attack.”
“I think that’s one of the best compliments anyone’s ever given me.”
“I came over because I wanted to see you. To talk to you. But now…”
He took a step closer.
“What?” Her voice sounded breathless.
“I think I’m going to just skip the talking part,” he said, and before she even managed to follow the line of conversation, he had her caged in his arms. His kiss was hot. Deliciously wild. And there was something exciting about being trapped like that in his arms. In knowing that he could do anything he wanted to her in that moment. In hoping that he’d do just that.
As if she’d voiced her fantasy, he took her arms and thrust them above her head. His palm was big enough that when he crossed her wrists, he was able to hold her there with just one hand. With the other, he pushed up her tank top, making her gasp when he lifted it above her breasts, exposing her nipples.
He bent, taking one in his mouth, then sucking hard before grazing the tender flesh with his teeth. When he pulled his mouth away, he blew a thin stream of air, and she felt her areola tighten in response to the decadent, wonderful sensation.
“You have such beautiful breasts,” he murmured, closing his mouth over her again and then slowly kissing his way up, playing his lips along her collarbone with such slow and intimate detail she could feel the pull of his touch all the way down between her thighs. She was throbbing there. Her core clenching with desire, wanting him to fill her. Wanting to feel him inside her.
And at the same time, she didn’t want to move. Wanted to stay like this forever, at his mercy, as he teased and tormented her with his mouth and his hands.
“God, Eva,” he groaned. “What have you done to me.”
She laughed. “I don’t know. But I’m really glad you came over.”
“I wanted to see you. Hell, I had to see you.” He stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Sometimes I think I shouldn’t want you this much.”
The words were soft but heartfelt.
“The distance,” she said. “I know. I have a business in San Diego. You have a business here.”
He nodded. “That’s part of it. It feels untenable.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” She hadn’t meant to speak the words, but now that she had, she knew they were true. She craved him. Wanted him. And foolish or not, she believed they’d get over these barriers together.
She didn’t understand the shadow she saw in his eyes. And with a sudden flash of worry, she realized that he’d said their geographical incompatibility was only part of their problem. “Tyree?”
“Hush,” he said. “Let me kiss you.” The shadow was gone now, and she wondered if it had only been her imagination. It hadn’t been, though. Some part of her knew that. But at the moment, that part of her didn’t much care.
“Just kiss me?” Her body felt hyperaware, and her breath caught in her throat. “What if I want more?”
“Oh, baby,” he said, his voice thick with longing. And then he did kiss her. A long, hot kiss that felt like a promise. The kind of kiss that led places. And, in this case, it led right into the bedroom when he took her hand and drew her there with him.
“Okay?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, then gasped when he moved closer and slowly, deliciously slowly, drew the tank over her head. He tossed it aside, then bent to take her breast fully in his mouth even as his hand slid down her belly and beneath the loose waistband of the cut-off sweats.
She wasn’t wearing underwear, and his fingers teased over her trimmed pubic hair before brushing over her clit and making her squeak with pleasure, her legs going so weak she wasn’t sure if she could stay upright.
“Please,” she murmured, not entirely sure what she was asking for. It didn’t matter. He had her well in hand, and after tugging the shorts down, he urged her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Lie back,” he ordered, and she obeyed willingly, biting her lower lip when he pulled the shorts all the way off of her feet, then spread her legs wide, exposing her fully to him.
“Tyree,” she said, shifting a little, both aroused and shy. The shyness faded, however when she felt his lips brush her inner thigh as the pad of one thumb teased the back of her knee. It was as if she was a sensual instrument, and he was playing her to perfection. He moved slowly, his mouth and tongue tasting and exploring but never reaching her core.
His fingers danced lightly on her other thigh, moving higher and higher until she arched up in surprise when his fingertip flicked lightly over her clit. “Please,” she said, as his lips moved higher, the brush of his close-trimmed beard rubbing her inner thighs in a way that was making her seriously delirious.
And then—oh, dear God—he closed his mouth over her, his tongue teasing her clit as his fingers slid into her. And she was wet—so incredibly wet—and the feel of him was almost more than she could handle. And yet at the same time she wanted more, and she shamelessly bucked her hips, squirming a bit as his mouth worked serious magic on her, taking her higher and higher until before she knew it a firestorm of electricity was crackling through her body, radiating out through her fingers and toes.
It had been so long, so damn long, and she couldn’t remember ever coming this hard. Her body shook and she cried out. And the cliche was true because— oh, yes—she actually saw stars.
When her body quit shaking, she realized that he’d maneuvered her all the way onto the bed, and his body was straddling her, his huge erection brushing her lower belly, and making her crave even more. She wanted to feel him inside her. She wanted the connection, the power, the submission of being claimed by this man who had been a part of her for decades, even when they’d been separated by miles and years.
“Kiss me,” she demanded, then tasted her own arousal on his lips when he complied. She clutched his back pulling him closer. Her nails scraping, her teeth nibbling. She wanted to be taken and she begged him to thrust inside her. “Please. I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Oh, God, please.”
She closed her eyes, arching up as she spread her legs, felt the weight of him on her, heard his moan of passion as his cock teased her entrance.
And then she heard his low, anguished cry. “I can’t.” The words seemed torn from him, and the same force then launched him out of bed and had him pounding the wall with his fist, his erection gone. “Goddammit, Eva, I can’t.”
“It’s okay.” She sat up, the sheet pulled up to her chin. She felt for him, and, yeah, she was disappointed, but it was hardly the end of the world. “Honestly, Tiger, it happens.”
He made a scoffing noise, then seemed to deflate. He reached down and tugged on his briefs, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I should have told you. But I thought—well, with you I thought it would be okay. But it’s not. Hell, I think it may actually be worse.”
He met her eyes, and she couldn’t find a single word. She was too confused. Too troubled by the way he seemed to be drowning in a pain that seemed bigger than the actual problem.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Then he got up and left the room.
And since there was no way she was ending the conversation on that note, she slid out of bed, grabbed her robe from the hook on the closet door, and followed him into the living room.
She found him on the couch and settled in beside him, then put her hand gently on his knee. He turned to her, managed a tiny smile, and then slid his arm around her shoulder.
Relieved, she leaned against him, thankful that the huge gap that had filled the space between them in the bedroom seemed to have disappeared. But she couldn’t let it go. She knew she ought to be hurt by his words—how did she make it worse?—but mostly she was worried about him.
She needed to understand, and he was the only one who could explain it to her. And at the risk of bringing it all back to the surface, she dove back into the quagmire, and asked him very softly to tell her what was going on.
For a moment, he said nothing, and she thought he was going to ignore her. Then, slowly, he began to speak. “I’ve dated three women in the seven years since Teiko died,” he said, obviously considering each word. “Not so much because I wanted to, but friends thought I shouldn’t be alone. And, honestly, dating isn’t entirely accurate. We went out a few times. Played the get-to-know-you game.”
