Vanilla On Top(9)

I grab her arm and drag her to the stairwell, unwilling to have her ogled by everyone in the lobby while I try to sputter out a coherent thought. “Hey!” she protests. I let go of her arm and turn to her in the empty space, hoping to stem any justified anger before it starts.

She has an expression of shock on her face, but it seems to be more for the spilled coffee on her hand than my impulsive actions of pulling her toward the stairwell.

“Sorry about that.” She whips her hand out to shake off the spilled droplets. Tension leaks out of me now that I’ve found her. What has this woman done to me in so short a time? “I wanted to talk to you…alone.”

She looks around, unafraid and slightly annoyed. “You’ve got it. Now, what do you need?”

Could she not have been thinking about me after last night? Do men pleasure her on patios all the time? A slow burn boils in my gut at the thought of other men touching her like I did. I want more of her, plain and simple, but what if she doesn’t feel the same?

I try and calm my raging heartbeat by taking a deep breath. “I enjoyed last night.”

A smile forms on her oval face, a small dimple appearing in her left cheek. The innocence of the dimple contrasts strongly with the heat I see deep in her eyes. “I did, too.” A pink pointed tongue darts out to wet her lips. “I thought my enjoyment was obvious.”

“I’d like to see you again,” I say, stepping closer and touching a lock of her shiny hair.

She holds her coffee out to the side and moves one step closer, running her free hand down to cup the growing bulge behind my fly. “Would you now?” She gently kneads my expanding flesh. There’s a rush through my veins as all the blood in my body hightails it to my crotch. Damn, she’s so freaking hot.

I lean down to kiss her dark red mouth and she tilts away, refusing me.

Perhaps I should have asked. “May I have a kiss, please?”

Her lips touch mine in a gentle brush, more of a tease, and pull away. My prick stands at full mast as she leisurely trails her fingers up and down the length. “That will have to last you ‘til the weekend.”

“The weekend?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow and give you the details.” One last squeeze and she steps back, hunger in her eyes as she checks out my tented pants.

She turns and leaves, the door whisking shut behind her.

Damned if that woman doesn’t know how to make an exit.





Chapter Three

Heather

Carla and I meet for an after-work cup of coffee—decaf for me this late in the day. I finish relaying my previous night’s antics with Tony while she listens with slack-jawed amazement.

“I’m not so sure about this, Heather.” Carla pushes away her empty coffee mug, a doubtful expression on her face. “It sounds like the patio escapade was sexy as hell, but what if he didn’t go for it?” I look away, unable to voice what I’m feeling inside at her lack of support. “He could have laughed at you and walked out…or maybe he’s some pervert and public sex is his thing.”

The noises of the crowded café hum in the background, distracting me from the stab I feel at her comments. I stare out the window at the growing darkness and search for a way to reply. How can I explain the power I experienced in those stolen moments behind the bistro? The look of sheer desire on Tony’s face was all the encouragement I needed to keep going.

I stifle a sigh and return my attention to my lusty-looking friend. I doubt Carla’s ever been told she was a cold and distant lover.

Still, her words don’t sit right with me, even if she didn’t intend to be hurtful. I screw up my courage, channeling a little of the woman I pretended to be last night—and this afternoon. “Don’t you think saying he’d laugh at me is a little harsh?”

Carla has the grace to blush as she realizes what she said. “I’m sorry, hon.” She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Being my normal self hasn’t won me any proposals.” My lonely apartment and dying plants seem to mock me whenever I step across the threshold alone…again. “You’re the one who convinced me to go.” I stare into my best friend’s eyes. “Did you only want me there to make you look better?”

A startled gasp spills from Carla. “Seriously? What kind of friend would that make me? A pretty bad one, if you ask me.”

I shrug and look away, pulling my hand out of hers. “You’re not too supportive of me right now. And aren’t you the one who suggested I try something new for a change?”