by A. C. Arthur
“So what would you like?” Brock asked when they’d sat down at the table. He’d already opened his menu and was studying it as if he’d never seen it before.
With a shake of her head, Noelle tried to stop overanalyzing every little thing. As Karena had said, she needed to stop being so indecisive. Brock Remington was a good man, of that she was fairly certain. Was he the man for her? Well, the jury was still out on that one.
“I think I’ll have the stuffed shrimp,” she said after a glance at the menu, which she then folded and set down on the table. Sitting back in the chair, Noelle took a deep, cleansing breath.
“That sounds good. I’m going to have the steak. And afterward we’ll have some big juicy Maryland blue crabs.”
After their orders were taken and glasses of wine placed in front of both of them, Brock looked at her once more. He had a habit of doing that, just looking at her. She was almost positive he liked what he saw but his gaze said there was more. How much more? she thought, and felt the waves of hope building.
“Tell me about your life back in Vegas,” he said, leaning back in his chair, as well.
“Why?” she asked before she could help herself.
“Because I want to know all about Noelle Vincent.”
That, Noelle thought, was a very real statement on his part. She believed he wanted to know about her but still wondered why.
“I live with Linc and Jade. I work at the casino,” she told him.
“And what do you do for fun?”
Noelle chuckled. “Well, if you ask Linc and Jade, they’ll say everything I do is for fun. Shopping for shoes, swimming for hours, getting my hair and nails done.”
“I’m not asking Linc and Jade.”
She tilted her head as she gazed at him. “No, you’re not. I like to shop for shoes and get my hair and nails done. Jade has a wonderful day spa that I spend a lot of time at. I also enjoy swimming.”
He nodded slightly. “So I’ve noticed. I don’t think my pool has been used more since I first moved in.”
“Sorry. It’s therapeutic.”
As if her words were spoken in another language he blinked quickly then asked, “Really? How? And what would you need therapy for?”
Noelle cleared her throat. “It’s just how I unwind, how I keep myself focused on the things I need to do.”
“Things like work?”
“Like work and choices I need to make. I just find that while I’m swimming my mind is totally at ease. I can think more clearly and really understand what I need.”
“And that would be what, Noelle? What do you need?”
Oh, man, was that a loaded question. If she were the old throw-caution-to-the-wind Noelle she would probably say she needed him hot, hard and ready between her legs. But now that she’d matured and decided on another course for her personal life she had to contemplate the answer a little more because the first answer was still very true but even more dangerous.
Just then their food arrived and she was saved. “Right now I need to eat,” she said cheerfully, and quickly picked up her napkin and eating utensils.
“Lesson number one,” Brock said, putting his plastic bib around his neck and tying it. “Never underestimate how messy eating crabs can be.”
“You look ridiculous in that thing.” Noelle chuckled.
“Laugh if you want but I’ve got a feeling you’re not going to be in such a good mood when you drop seasonings and bits of meat on that pretty white dress you’re wearing.”
Noelle looked down at her clothes and nodded. “Say no more.” She was tying the plastic bib around her neck and dropping an extra napkin in her lap. When she looked up again it was to find him staring at her.
“You look—” he began.
“Ridiculous. I know.” She caught herself finishing the sentence for him.
“No. I was going to say adorable.”
They’d been doing good so far, keeping the conversation personal but light. Now his eyes had darkened a bit, his voice lowering a timbre. She liked it, liked the effect she seemed to have on him at times. Call it female empowerment or whatever, it felt good and for tonight Noelle finally decided to enjoy it.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he responded quickly. “Now, for lesson number two. Select a crab.” Reaching onto the platter in front of them, he picked up a large crab.
They looked huge and a bit dangerous, but they smelled absolutely delicious so Noelle couldn’t wait to dig in. After selecting her own crab and placing it in front of her, she waited for Brock to continue with his instructions.
“Okay, now some people use a knife to work their way through the crabs. That just gets in my way. But if you want to, here’s one.” He pushed a knife toward her.
Noelle shook her head. “Nope. I want to do this like the natives do.”
“Good girl.” He smiled, then looked down at his crab again. “Now, turn the crab over so you can see its belly.”
She mimicked his movements.
“Then you remove the legs like this.”
Noelle watched him, then did what he said.
“Now, the legs have meat in them, not as much as the claws or the body, but they have some. Me, personally, I don’t have the patience to work that small amount of meat out of them, but the juice from them is heavenly.” He put one of the small spindly legs into his mouth and sucked.
With a shrug she did the same thing, sucking until drops of seasoned juice touched her tongue. “Mmm,” she said, then put that one down and quickly picked up another one.
Suddenly the taste of crabs was not all that Brock craved. To be truthful it wasn’t suddenly. He’d been thinking of touching her all night, since he’d seen her standing in the living room waiting for him. The dress she wore was off her shoulders, leaving what seemed like miles and miles of creamy skin available for his perusal. As they’d sat across from each other, sharing small talk and their meal, he’d watched her pulse beat at the base of her neck and wanted to stroke his tongue there. When she laughed her head tilted, offering her long neck, and he wanted to nibble there.
Now she was sucking on those crab legs. Her lips, long since having lost the gloss of her lipstick during the meal, still looked enticing as they closed around the crustacean. He was envious at that moment, green with jealously that could possibly eat him alive if he didn’t do something quickly. So without further thought Brock picked up one of his remaining crab legs and extended it to her.
She hesitated only momentarily before leaning forward, slowly lowering her lips over his offering. She sucked, her eyes on his. Her lips pulled back, then surprised him by coming back for another taste, this time her tongue gently grazed his finger. Brock’s body hardened faster than a running bull. His erection was thick and hot against his leg as he continued to watch her, knowing she was feeling the same erotic spikes as he was.
What was she doing?
The question reverberated through Noelle’s mind a second too late. Her tongue had already touched his skin, her body already heating in response.
She pulled away slowly and cleared her throat. “What’s the next step?”
Brock took his time responding, not all that certain that his voice would come out clearly. “You split the belly open like this.” Catching the long underbelly flap of the female crab, he pulled it apart and waited while she did the same. “Clean all of this off then break it in half. The treasure’s inside,” he said, no longer looking down at his crab but up at her.
She licked her lips nervously as she did what he said. Once she had her crab opened Noelle scooped out the meat and put it slowly into her mouth.
Brock kept his eyes on her, watching as she chewed then swallowed. “So what do you think?” he asked as his brow began to sweat.
“Delicious,” was her reply.
Closing his eyes Brock cursed silently, then went about eating his crab.
“Is something wrong?” she asked when he’d finished the first one befor
e her and reached for another.
“No. No problem,” he answered quickly, and cracked open another crab. “We just need to hurry up.”
Noelle didn’t bother to ask why. In the span of ten minutes the air had grown thick with sexual tension. They had danced around it all evening and she figured it would finally come to a head. Still, she hadn’t decided how she was going to deal with it.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Brock’s hand wrapped around her wrist. “Stop it,” he said in a coarse voice.
“Stop what?”
“Stop sitting there, thinking of us making love again. I’ll never make it through the rest of these crabs if you don’t and I’d really hate to spoil your first time.”
She was already shaking her head. “I—”
“Don’t do that, either. Don’t lie about what’s between us. It’s futile and it’s not going to stop the inevitable.”
“Which is?”
“Come hell or high water, I’m going to make long, slow love to you tonight and you’re going to enjoy every blessed moment of it.”
Noelle swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. “I can’t finish eating with you holding my arm.”
Her fingers were a mess with crab seasoning but before he let her go he lifted them to his mouth, taking one at a time inside to rub against the warmth of his tongue. One by one he cleaned each finger, watching her as his eyes grew darker and heavier with desire.
In that moment all was lost, her indecision, her fear of making another mistake, her business-only attitude, everything, except Brock.
Chapter 15
The second they were in his truck Brock reached for her, pulling her so that her body was half in the passenger seat and half over the console that separated them.
His lips crashed over hers in an unyielding fashion. She gasped and he cursed himself, forcing his body to slow down. “Kiss me back, Noelle,” he murmured.
On a ragged moan she did just that. Wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head she opened her mouth to his assault. It wasn’t a sweet connection, yet it wasn’t the fevered exchange they’d shared in the pool, either. Brock was intent on making their next experience more memorable than the desperate act they’d shared before.
His hands moved up and down her back, cupping her bottom until she was lifted up off the seat.
“Brock,” she moaned.
His kisses trailed from her mouth to her jaw to her earlobe. Her hands cupped the back of his head, guiding him, holding him.
“So soft,” he moaned when his lips finally found the line of her neck that he’d been eyeing all night. “So damned soft.”
Noelle’s mind was a blur. The gentleness with which his lips were touching her warred with the rough grasp his hands had on her bottom. He tried to pull her closer and she tried to climb over the console. But this was a big truck, with big furnishings that probably weren’t suited to the teenager-like necking she and Brock were currently engrossed in.
So with resolve that she had no idea she possessed she tried to pull out of his embrace.
“No. I’m not letting you go,” he said, and Noelle froze. Then as if coming to her senses she resumed trying to dislodge herself from his grasp. For a moment she’d taken his words a little too seriously. This, again, was just sex.
“We’re parked on a public street in your truck. This has got to be indecent,” she pleaded.
Brock pulled back, reluctantly, and Noelle situated herself in the passenger seat, trying like hell to steady her breathing.
Dragging a hand down his face, Brock said, “Sorry about that.”
“No. Don’t apologize. It was my fault as much as yours.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Just like I said before. It’s inevitable.”
A fact that Noelle was sadly beginning to admit to herself.
Twenty-five minutes later they were back at the house. Noelle had already taken a seat in the living room, crossing her long legs. Brock watched, the heated waves of arousal clouding his mind, as one foot clad in the sexiest gunmetal-gray sandal he’d ever seen called to him. He’d commented on her shoes earlier in the evening only to be told that they were Manolo Blahniks shoes. The heel was at least four inches high, with a thin slash of gray stretching over her toes and two rows of what looked like chains at the ankles. The color was a direct match to the wide leather belt she wore at her waist. The off-the-shoulder white dress was just tight enough across the bodice and flaring enough from the waist down to drive him absolutely crazy.
They hadn’t spoken of his confession to her the night before last, but it had been on his mind. It had done him good to get the things he’d said to her off his chest. For years they’d plagued him, and, while he’d known it was foolish to hold a grudge against his mother, he’d never been quite able to get past the anger to move forward with his life. Not until Noelle.
There was something about this woman that made him want to change, to learn, maybe, how to love. That had never been on his mind before because to love meant to be hurt or to be put in a position to hurt someone else and that’s the last thing he would ever put someone through. But Noelle, in her brash and candid way, had simply told him he was being foolish, that the only thing stopping him from loving someone was him.
He was beginning to think that maybe she was right, and if she was, then maybe she was the woman to show him how to love.
Brock sat on the couch beside her, foregoing the corny move of pretending to yawn to get his arm around her and simply pulling her up close to him.
She slipped willingly into his arms. For a moment he stared into her eyes, wondering when it was exactly that she’d crept into his heart.
When his lips touched hers it was soft and sweet. When her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, grew hotter.
His hands were all over her. Saying he couldn’t get enough was definitely an understatement. She moaned when he lifted one of her legs to cross his own, and when his fingers snaked up her inner thigh the soft whimper that escaped her mouth had his erection pressing painfully against the zipper of his pants.
Thank the heavens for skirts, he thought as the material simply fell away, leaving her bare parted legs for him to peruse. And the creator of thongs should receive some sort of award, maybe even a Nobel prize, Brock thought the moment his fingers found the thin slip of material and pushed it aside.
She was plump and soft and wet as hell. His finger shook momentarily as it moved through the damp folds. His body heat traveled until it touched every nuance, until his mind was so full of her his body had no choice but to complain.
For Noelle the last couple of hours had been decisive, she thought. Brock was a good man. He was polite and handsome and fun to be around. Above all that he was human, with the frailties of family problems just like her or anyone else. He hurt for the situation with his parents. He looked for a place that he could be himself, accepted, family. The Donovans had given him that, but she sensed he accepted it begrudgingly. She wanted so badly for him to know that if the Donovans accepted and loved him, then he couldn’t have found a better place.
She wanted him to realize that there was love in the world. There were couples who worked out without the unfortunate circumstances that had befallen his parents. She just wanted him.
That pill had been hard to swallow, but then again, she’d known it the moment he kissed her against her bedroom door. For as much as she’d made mistakes in the past, something in the way he’d touched her that very first time had her thinking that this man was unlike the others in her life.
And so it was with those positive thoughts that she’d allowed him to kiss her. Who was she kidding? The moment he’d pulled her into his embrace she’d been lost. Truth be told she’d been well on her way to straddling him in that truck and riding him until they were both blinded with ecstasy.
But now they were here, in his house, alone. He was touching her. Oh, God, she loved his hands. One had his fingers bu
ried in her hair, his blunt nails scraping her scalp as he pulled gently, but possessively. The other hand was touching her intimately, stroking her tender nub until she was shaking, ready for release.
“You are so damned beautiful. So desirable,” he groaned, stroking his tongue over her earlobe.
In the distance, beyond the sound of their heavy breathing and moaning, Noelle thought she heard a bell. “Looks can be deceiving,” she said, then lifted her hips to better receive his thrusting fingers.
“No, you definitely look good.”
He inhaled deeply. “You smell good.”
He kissed the line of her neck, then extended his tongue and traced a long, hot trail down to her shoulder. “Mmm, and you taste good.”
His thrusts deepened and Noelle could feel her thighs shaking. She was close, so damned close. And yet, there was that bell again, followed by his words.
“But that’s not all there is to me.”
“That’s all I need,” he murmured, then attempted to cover her mouth with his.
“No. Stop!” she all but yelled. It wasn’t a bell she heard this time but a loud-ass chime, a warning signal stopping her again. With that knowledge Noelle moved and squirmed until he was no longer touching her. Adjusting her clothes she could only stare at him in disbelief. Hadn’t she just convinced herself that she was doing the right thing this time? That Brock was a good guy?
If that were true how could he say what he’d just said?
“Why?”
“I don’t want this. Not like this,” she shot back, feeling her nerves swishing inside. She wanted him to touch her, oh God, she did. But she wanted more than anything to be sure, to be right, this time. From what he’d said to her about not being able to give a woman any future and now about her looks being all he needed wasn’t right to her.
“Noelle, I don’t understand. We’re consenting adults, we’re attracted to each other. Why can’t we act on what’s between us? Is there someone else?”
