Glazed (5 page)

He nodded. “I can tell you put a lot of time into it.”

She tried not to grin like a Cheshire cat at the compliment and the knots in her stomach loosened a little, her confidence boosted. At least now she knew he didn’t think her plans had been too hastily made. But did he think she was ready to put them into action? She bit back her questions, settling instead for scooting a little closer to Derek, as if she could will him to finish reading her plan more quickly by staring over his shoulder.

Speaking of his shoulders, they offered quite the distraction. Maybe she didn’t need to re-read her business plan for the millionth time after all. She began a quiet study of his muscles, firm and beautifully defined even in relaxation, their hard lines visible beneath the thin cotton of his pale blue T-shirt. His eventual closing of the binder brought her eyes back to his face, and her stomach back to its pre-compliment state of nervousness. This was it – the moment of truth. She buried an eyetooth in her lower lip and tried not to look nervous.

“Impressive,” he said, handing the binder back to her.

Her shoulders drooped, the tension banished by the single, wonderful word. Impressive. She was so relieved she hardly noticed the taste of blood in her mouth, drawn from her lip by her nervous bite. “You really think so?”

“Yeah. Your plans seem thorough and realistic. And you said today at lunch that you think you’ve found the perfect building, right?”

She nodded, her head spinning in a haze of relief and excitement. His was her first professional opinion, and it went a long way toward banishing the nagging doubt that had a way of creeping up on her during her darker moments, when her dream of actually opening her café seemed so far away. She was right in the middle of a ridiculously huge grin when a sudden thought brought her up short, retying the knots in her stomach. “You’re not just saying that are you?” she blurted. “Because…” Because what? Because he’d made sweet – literally – kissing love to her lips ten minutes after he’d met her and was probably calculating his chances of getting into her pants even as they spoke? No, she couldn’t say that. Voicing the possibility would be too much of an embarrassment. And a temptation. “Because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?” she finished with a faint blush.

“Not at all,” he said, and something in his eyes made her believe it. “There is one thing missing from your plan, though.”

“What?” she asked, her stomach tightening again.

“Insurance. I didn’t see anything in your plans about business insurance – unless I missed that section?” He cocked a dark eyebrow at her in question.

She shook her head. “No, you’re right. I’ve been trying to look into it lately, but there are so many agencies that it’s confusing. And getting quotes is like pulling teeth.”

He nodded. “Why don’t I just introduce you to my agent? He’s right here in Blue Mills, and you won’t find a better deal.”

She breathed a sigh of grateful relief.  “That would be fantastic.”

He smiled, the expression transforming his face and lips from gorgeous to nearly irresistible. “Glad I could help.”

“You’ve been a huge help,” she replied earnestly, setting her binder down on the coffee table across from the couch. “I really appreciate it. In fact, I almost feel like I’m taking advantage of your generosity. First you drive me across town, then take me to lunch and now I’ve kept you here for the better part of an hour.”

He grinned, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Hey, I almost ran you over, remember? I owe you big time. Not that I mind being here, of course.”

A glimmer shone in his eyes as he spoke. Was he thinking about the kiss now? Free of the anxiety that’d plagued her while she’d waited for him to finish reading her plan and deliver his verdict, Kelly was thinking about it more vividly than ever, her recollection tinged by the giddiness that had replaced her nervousness. He was staring back, watching her with something more than polite interest. An almost palpable tension sprung up between the two of them, prompting her to seek an excuse to get up from the couch.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, jumping up from her seat as if the cushion were a red-hot stove burner.

He watched her for a moment longer before replying, and she felt the weight of his gaze on her body like hands. Strong hands that knew exactly what they wanted.
His
hands. When he finally said ‘sure,’ she rushed to the kitchen, forgetting to ask him what he wanted to drink. Oh yeah, she’d bet her next paycheck he’d been thinking about the kiss. And maybe about another.

She languished against the refrigerator for a few moments, waiting for her breathing to return to normal, not wanting her voice to sound breathy or strained when she called out with her belated question. Finally, she gave it her best shot. “I forgot to ask – what would you like to drink?” Her voice was reasonably steady. “I’ve got some lemonade I made yesterday.”

“That sounds great,” he answered amiably from the living room, his deep voice echoing throughout her apartment. Her knees went slightly weak as she pulled the pitcher from the fridge.

When she’d poured two glasses she lifted one of them and promptly pressed it against her forehead. Condensation had already formed in crystalline beads on its smooth surface, and it felt cool and refreshing against her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut and savored the sensation, willing the fire to go out of her cheeks – and a few other less obvious places. She needed to cool down before she made an idiot of herself in front of Derek, who was affecting her like some sort of hunky kryptonite. Maybe it was the good mood his approval of her business plan had put her in, but repaying him with another kiss had begun to seem alarmingly like a reasonable idea. After a few moments of deep-breathing she hastily scrubbed the moisture from her forehead and returned to the living room, a tumbler full of homemade lemonade in each hand.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting his. His fingertips brushed hers as she relinquished the glass and a tingly shiver raced down her spine. So much for cooling off.

She carefully took a seat, putting a couple feet between their bodies as a buffer against the unruly urges that were assaulting her. Was it just her, or did he seem to be a lot more focused on her than the lemonade as he licked his lips? Her wondering was interrupted by the sudden realization that she was doing the same, and she withdrew her tongue hastily from the edge of her lip, all too aware that he’d noticed.

Maybe small talk would ease the tension. “So, how long have you been running the Blue Mills Donut House?”

“About five years,” he said dispassionately, his eyes locked firmly with hers, his lips split by the rim of his glass and slick with lemonade.

“Oh.” It was all she could bring herself to say. His tone made it clear his mind was on something other than his donut business. Mainly her, she suspected, watching his eyes dip momentarily below her collarbones and the neckline of her T-shirt. She turned her glass in her hand, mulling over the tempting revelation as beads of condensation streamed down her fingers to dampen her wrist. Was he really this into her? He looked like he should be in a calendar somewhere, not in Blue Mills. He seemed too hot for such a decidedly lukewarm small town. She, on the other hand, felt perfectly at home here. Was she really the kind of girl he went for? The hunger – yes, she was sure that was what it was – in his eyes seemed to scream ‘yes’.

Too bad she couldn’t let it happen.

“So how about a second date?”

She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. His eyes were still locked with hers, intense, willing her to say ‘yes’. “The thing is,” she said, stalling with a sip of lemonade and using the time to summon every ounce of her willpower, “I can’t. Sorry.”

He leaned toward her, his gaze tempting and defiant. She realized he hadn’t been willing her to say ‘yes’ – he’d been daring her to say ‘no’. His breath came hot and slow against her face, his mouth only inches from hers, smelling of lemons and sugar. “You seem like you want to.” It was clearly a challenge.

And what a challenge it was. His lips begged for hers, as tempting as forbidden candy. She could taste them in her memory, and her tongue inched rebelliously forward in her mouth, touching the barrier of her teeth. “I do. I don’t. It doesn’t matter, because I can’t.”

“Why not?” His breath mingled with hers, and she could detect faint, smoky traces of the barbeque sandwich he’d had for lunch beneath the sweet tang of lemonade.

Suddenly, she didn’t know why not. Leaning ever so slightly forward, she pressed her lips against his, only to have the reins firmly jerked from her hands as he responded, his mouth leaping into action beneath hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest, squeezing the breath out of her in a sweet-and-tart rush. Her breasts were compressed against his solid surface of his chest and her heart hammered beneath them, beating a fierce rhythm against his muscle. He must have felt how fast it was beating, but she didn’t care – his tongue had found hers and was demanding every bit of her attention. She spared just enough of her mental energy to register the presence a growing firmness that pressed against her belly, so hard against her it sent electric flutters through her core.

Something shifted, and suddenly she was on her back, her head resting against one of the plush decorative pillows that were at either end of the couch. Derek’s arms were beneath her, wrapping her tightly against him. One of her hands was splayed on his chest, caught between their bodies, and his heart beat against her palm.

One of his hands slid out from under her back, tickling her ribs as his fingertips skimmed them. When his palm came to rest on the swell of her breast she moaned into his mouth as her nipple tingled and tightened beneath the cover of her bra and shirt. Suddenly, that cover seemed very thin. His fingertips rested above the cup of her bra, a hairsbreadth away from brushing her nipple. She wriggled beneath him and the motion sent her hips grinding against his erection.

He groaned and flexed his hips against hers in response, sending the tip of his denim-covered cock into the hollow of her belly button. She gasped and he took the opportunity to plunge his tongue deeper into her mouth as he pressed her hard against the couch cushions.  With one arm wrapped under her back and the other slowly kneading her breast, he had her thoroughly trapped. The soft cushions rose up to cradle her where he didn’t and she was completely caught between their embrace and his. Her nipple had finally risen above the cup of her bra, and his fingertips massaged it, reducing it to a tiny, rock-hard bud.

Derek’s phone rang. The loud ringtone emanated from his pocket and shattered Kelly’s illusion that her world had been reduced to the space between his hot body and the couch. He flexed his hips again, grinding himself against her belly, as if doing so would banish the musical intrusion. It went on and on, the melody repeating itself, and he matched the beat, moving in perfect time with it against her. The kiss had finally ended and they were breathing hard against each other’s mouths, Kelly gasping as her stomach fluttered and her pussy dampened, sending a message to her brain that made her wonder vaguely why they were still wearing clothes.

Eventually the phone stopped ringing, only to be launched immediately back into musical action by a second call. Derek wrenched himself away from Kelly with a wordless, frustrated gasp and dug into his pocket. Doing so pulled his jeans even tighter over his erection, rendering the outline of his cock clearly visible. She could’ve reached out to trace the thick ridge of flesh that marked where the head began. If she’d been capable of rising, that was. At the moment she was distinctly breathless and a little light-headed. On top of that, Derek’s gaze was still fixed firmly on her, his eyes holding hers in a burning, inescapable lock, even as he answered the phone.

“Yeah?”

Silence followed as someone clearly replied on the other end of the connection.