“Do I do that to you, too, Suzanne? Make you hot? Make you feel like you could just…spontaneously combust?”
“I…” The words backed up in her throat when his gaze dipped to the scooped neckline of her shirt. The plump curves of her breasts just barely showed. Modest. She’d meant for it to be so. But he pulled back an inch, just enough so that she could see the clear, defined outline of her nipples pressing so desperately against the material of her shirt.
“Yes,” she whispered, admitting the truth he could see. “You…do that to me.”
“Are you wet, too?” he asked, very softly near her ear. “Are you wet for me?”
A helpless whimper escaped her when he pulled her close again, swaying lightly to the music.
Good thing
If Ryan noticed, he gave no sign, merely dipped his head a little and gently slid his jaw to hers. The unexpected tenderness of that and the way he guided her around the living room with such ease made her feel almost sorry she was never going to try again, that she’d never experience love the way she knew it must exist.
Then the music ended, and he slowly pulled back, releasing her. She nearly cried.
But there, in the dark, they stood. She could feel him looking at her. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Then the music started back up and she felt his fingers once again entwine with hers. They were warm and slightly rough from all the hard work he did every day. “One more,” he said, and when she hesitated a heartbeat too long, he drew her back against him.
A small sound of pure pleasure escaped her at the feel of his long, hard body once again against hers. Who would have believed a dance could be so sensual, so…overwhelming?
Dipping his head so that he could see into her eyes, he held her gaze, holding her to him as if maybe he didn’t want to let her go either.
Tim had never held her like this, as if she was a beautiful creature, as if he’d die if she moved away.
No one had.
It was terribly seductive, and terribly revealing. She was going to cave if she wasn’t careful! God, what could she do? Calculate complicated recipes in her head? Remember she was essentially jobless?
She still wanted him with a desperation that scared her spitless. This time when the music ended, she pulled back. “I…have to clean up.”
“Don’t go.”
“Have to,” she whispered, and at his expression-so completely frustrated and ardent at the same time-she ran into the kitchen, where she went straight to the sink, turned on the cold water, and splashed her face until reason returned.
Then, and only then, did she clean up the kitchen. As soon as she finished, she let herself out the back door into the dark night. She raced home and fell into bed, reaching beneath her pillow for the book of jokes her father had given her when her heart had first been broken. She’d been twelve, and Steven MacKenzie had publicly dumped her at second recess. It had been her first lesson at laughing in the face of pain and ever since, when she’d been down, she’d read the book to put herself to sleep.
But tonight, no jokes, no matter how familiar and comforting, helped.
7
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Suzanne and Taylor sat on Taylor’s big bed, eating ice cream right out of the container. “It was horrible,” Suzanne said.
“I don’t know how you can say that. I’ve tried it myself.”
“Really? Did you feel like your heart was going to just leap right out of your chest?”
“No, Chinese food doesn’t do that to me. But Mexican does.”
“Not the food!” Suzanne shook her head and laughed. “I’m talking about the slow dancing!”
“Well.” Even Taylor’s eyes smiled. “Well, well.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means I find it very interesting that a man you claim to feel nothing for can make your heart go all pitter- pattery when he holds you against him.”
Obviously Taylor had never been held against the likes of Ryan Alondo. And until last night, Suzanne hadn’t either. She’d never experienced such a true, desperate need for a man in her life. She’d been so frantic she would have given up breathing to have him.
“And yet you kept slow dancing,” Taylor pointed out.
“Well…” Remembering how heavenly it had felt being held tight to his hard, warm body, Suzanne sighed. “Yeah.”
“But in the end, you somehow managed to walk away without jumping his bones.”
“Not walk,” Suzanne corrected. “Run. I ran like hell was nipping at my heels.”
“I don’t know about hell, honey, but I’d certainly call him sin personified.”
They both looked out the window-where Sin Personified was working a story below. Ryan stood on a large round of wood, balanced on the balls of his feet. His shirt clung to him, damp with exertion, which only further defined a body she knew could made a grown woman cry, but that’s not what caught her attention now. He was wielding a huge ax with the rhythm of a machine, his arms, his chest, his legs all working in perfect unison.
Suzanne had tried to pick up one of those axes the other day. She’d barely been able to get it off the ground, much less fling it with deadly precision over her head time and time again.
“God, he’s gorgeous.” Taylor slid another bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Mmm. Sort of rugged and earthy, you know? With just the slightest bit of edge and danger mixed in. I mean, look at him.” She sucked on her spoon with a dreamy look on her exquisite face. “I bet he’s an exceptional lover.”
Oh yeah, he would be. With those hands? Long and lean and work-roughened. They were dark from the sun, warm, and Suzanne could almost feel them stroking over her much paler skin… Her legs tightened, halfway to orgasm just thinking about it, and she had to laugh. “I’m sure he’s far too experienced for me.”
Taylor lifted a worldly brow. “Are you saying our tree guy gets around?”
“His brothers told me he’s a chick magnet.” She rolled her eyes. “Their words, not mine.”
Her landlord pursed her lips and fanned herself. “A man who knows what he’s doing. Yummy.”
Yummy was right, and Suzanne was starting to perspire with all the images running wild in her head. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. How about this?” Sitting Indian-style on her bed, Taylor spread out a set of blue prints and a thick file. “Bids. I need an architect, an engineer and a contractor, and that’s just to start. I’ve seen three of each so far. My God, do you have any idea how much these people charge?”
“A lot?”
“More than an arm and a leg, let me tell you. But I figure if I sell off the antiques, I can do this, assuming, of course, that I never need to eat or heat the place again.”
“No problem,” Suzanne said. “This is Southern California, we’ll live without heating. As for the eating part, I have two more catering jobs coming up. A promotion party and a housewarming get-together.”
“Good for you! You should toss the want ads I see you scanning every day and go for it.”
“Oh, no. Catering’s just a hobby. But with the few odd jobs here and there, I can keep us fed.” Suzanne leaned over the blue prints, which she had no idea how to read, looking up when she felt Taylor go utterly still. “What’s the matter?”
Taylor looked stunned. “You…you just said you’d feed me.”
“Yeah, like your skinny little butt needs much.”
“But…that’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.” Her smile a bit watery now, she held out her spoon in a cheers. “To not needing heating this year.”
