Twisted By Love, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1 (10 page)

She could have said that she hadn’t purchased
anything worth modeling, but he’d given her the perfect excuse.
Seeing him was why she’d called after all. “How about tonight? You
could come over for a glass of wine.” She didn’t invite him for
dinner, almost as if this were just a business meeting. Or a job
interview. “We can talk.”

“Get to know each other,” he continued her
thought. “You like white wine.”

“I like white.” Of course, it was fifty-fifty
odds that he’d choose correctly.

“Maybe you’d feel more comfortable if you
came here, to my place,” he added. So that he wouldn’t know where
she lived, she presumed. He was offering her safety. “Or out
somewhere.”

“No.” Livie didn’t want safety. She wasn’t
afraid of him. From some unknown source deep inside, she knew he
wouldn’t hurt her. Of course, that famed security expert would say
she was crazy, but he’d also said people should to listen to their
gut. She was listening to it now. “I’m fine with you coming here.”
She was ready to jump off the high dive.

“If you’re sure,” he insisted.

“I’m sure.” She recited her address. “Give me
a couple of hours, okay?”

“Seven o’clock?”

“Great.”

“I’ll bring the wine.”

“Thank you.” Then she felt tongue-tied and
ridiculous. She’d invited him over yet she didn’t even know what to
say to him. “I’ll see you soon then.” She ended the call.

Shivers of anticipation raised the fine hairs
on her arms. She hadn’t been on a date in months. Most of her
so-called relationships were little more than a few dates. Nothing
that would interfere with her career. Nothing Toni would ever find
out about.

Livie moved suddenly, coming to life, so many
things to do. In the bathroom, she ran the tub water a few moments
until it was hot, then set the plug. From beneath the counter, she
retrieved a canister of lavender bath salts and poured them into
the water. Back in the bedroom, she pulled the curtains, toed off
her shoes, and stripped off her jeans.

The last thing she did before climbing into
the steaming bath was to reach beneath the counter and retrieve the
small box of condoms she kept hidden at the back. She transferred
it to the bedside drawer.

If she was going to make this relationship
about sex alone, then she needed to set the ground rules right
away. Sex. That’s all it was. Lust at first sight. Nothing
more.

Once again, she heard that little voice
inside laughing away at her.

* * * * *

He didn’t usually think much about what to
wear on a date, but Bern had actually given it some consideration.
In the end, he chose black jeans and a dark blue button-down.
Clothing had never really mattered to him. He wore a decent suit,
white shirt, and colored tie to work, something that spoke of
dependability. At a job site, he wore jeans and T-shirts that could
get dusty or dirty.

He didn’t know what to wear to impress Livie.
He’d never wanted to impress a woman before. As for the wine, he
wasn’t a snob, but he brought his favorite Cakebread
chardonnay.

He also wasn’t one to question what a woman
meant by her actions. He took her words at face value. But he
wondered now. What did it mean that Livie had invited him to her
home despite the alternatives he’d offered her?

The apartment complex was decent, flowering
shrubs around the entryway, neat carports, and pavement that hadn’t
been eroded by potholes. There were no grounds to speak of, no pool
that he could see, but he didn’t expect that Livie was the kind of
woman who spent a lot of time sunning herself. The lobby door had
been locked, and he’d buzzed her apartment. She was waiting for him
with the door open.

Simply the sight of her set his heart racing.
She smelled subtly of lavender and wore a short, flirty skirt with
sandals, her legs bare. Summery. Sweet. Hot. Her pink shirt was
tight across her breasts. A matching pale pink lipstick glistened
on her lips as she smiled.

He’d planned to make witty, urbane small
talk. She stole every thought from his head.

“I promised wine.” He held out the
bottle.

She took it, her fingers brushing his with an
electric zing. “Come in. I’ll open it.”

“I like your apartment,” he said before she
ran off.

“It’s not an apartment, it’s a condo,” she
clarified, as if her being a homeowner was important to him.

He didn’t want to assess or judge, but he
couldn’t help drinking in every detail. The small front entry was
tiled in white, a view of a slice of the kitchen to the left—black
granite counters, black and white linoleum, stainless steel
appliances—and off to the right lay the living room and a small
dining nook. The carpet was a plush pale blue, the sofa, arm chair
and ottoman a slightly darker shade that complemented the
wall-to-wall. There was an abundance of flowered pillows. He
wondered if she’d run around cleaning up for his visit, but he
figured that Livie never let things get messy.

It was actually a bit impersonal. A cloisonné
vase here, a figurine there, no family photographs, no books laying
around, no DVDs or CDs, though those could have been in cupboard
portion of the entertainment center. There wasn’t a mat or an empty
bowl or even a magazine on the two-person table in the dining nook.
Curtains hung over a sliding glass door leading out to a balcony,
but in the darkness outside, he couldn’t see if she had
flowerpots.

Looking at her home, she was still an enigma.
The only personal element was the scent of lavender drifting in
from what he assumed was the bedroom hallway.

She backed toward the kitchen. “I’ll open
this,” she said for the second time, and he realized she was
nervous. “I’ve got some cheese and crackers, too.”

The kitchen was shiny and modern, the
cupboards glass-fronted and not a dish or glass out of place. She
opened a drawer, brought out an opener, and handed it to him along
with the wine bottle. She didn’t look at the label. “You do the
honors.”

She removed a chunk of cheddar from a fridge
that certainly wasn’t overcrowded and found crackers in the long
pantry cupboard next to it.

“Is that the new outfit you bought?” He
wanted to touch the flirty, flouncy skirt. “It’s lovely.”

She looked down, shook her head, smiled.
“Thank you, but no. My friend did the majority of the shopping. I
just bought a couple of things for work.”

“You were going to model for me.” He’d
thought to make it a joke, but her face flushed with
embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she muttered, then set about cutting
cheese and setting it on a plate. She didn’t make an artful
arrangement, simply placed the slices next to a pile of crackers.
“I hope this is okay. I don’t have anything fancy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her. He liked that
she hadn’t made a feast in the two hours since she’d called.
Instead, she’d taken a bath and filled the condo with the scent of
lavender.

“There.” She stepped to the stainless steal
sink to toss in the dirty knife.

And screamed.

* * * * *

A lizard. Oh God, she’d almost touched it
when she put the knife in the sink. It was like the dream, washing
dishes, slicing up cheese, doing something so normal, peaceful.

Her breath sawed in her throat, and it wasn’t
until Bern had his arms around her, whispering in her ear—“It’s
okay, it’s okay”—that she realized she’d screamed.

“It’s just a lizard,” he was saying.

Lizards, snakes, they were all bad. She still
hadn’t caught her breath. “How did it get in there?”

“Want me to get rid of it?”

“Yes. Please.” She felt like an idiot, but
she had to step away from the sink so she couldn’t see it
anymore.

“Do you have a plastic bag or something?”

Thank God he didn’t wash it down the sink and
turn on the garbage disposal. She’d have nightmares of it coming
back in bloody pieces. She grabbed a bag from a drawer, handed it
to him, then backed away. What if he dropped it and it skittered
across the floor at her?

When she was a kid, a lizard had crawled up
through the bathtub drain. She’d almost stepped on it getting in
the tub. She’d screamed and screamed. Her dad tried to explain that
it happened all the time. They got in the sewers.

But she’d always thought Toni had done
it.

Just like she thought Toni had done it
now.

But really, why would her sister take the
trouble? Because she’d been upset Livie had gone shopping instead
of spending the day with her? That was ridiculous. Toni would have
to search high and low outside, then carry it all the way back in.
She wouldn’t.

Bern turned the bag inside out over his hand,
then fished around in the sink. Livie shuddered. God. What would he
think of her, acting like a ninny over a lizard?

He had it, flipping the bag right side out
again and zipping it closed. “I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t ask where he was taking it, didn’t
count how many minutes he was gone. She simply poured the wine,
then snagged a piece of cheese. As she sipped the wine and nibbled
the cheese, she could see from her vantage point that he’d left the
front door ajar.

The chardonnay was exceptionally good, yet
she couldn’t stop shaking. The bad dreams were increasing in
regularity, and the lizard had appeared in the sink as if she’d
conjured it right out of her nightmare.

“I guess it’s safe to assume you don’t like
lizards,” he said, closing the front door behind him and heading
into the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.” She felt foolish. “Not
just lizards, but any crawling thing, especially snakes.” Most
especially snakes. “Thanks for getting rid of it.”

Crossing the kitchen, he stopped in front of
her, up close, in her personal space. He smelled too good, earthy,
tantalizing.

“The wine is good,” she said, suddenly
nervous. Inviting him over had been stupid.

“I’m glad you like it.” His gaze fell to her
lips, and the green of his eyes seemed to darken to a deep forest
shade. His voice dropped to a huskier note. “Let me taste.”

She handed him her glass. He took it, holding
it aloft rather than raising it to his mouth. His head descended,
blocking out the kitchen light. Then his lips were on hers. Livie
didn’t move, didn’t put her arms around him, didn’t touch. She
merely angled her head and let him take her. His tongue stroked
hers, tasting the wine. It was a slow yet erotic exploration. He
made her dizzy, and she braced her hands on the counter’s edge.

Everything that had been simmering inside her
rose to boiling. She kissed him back, sighed with need and desire.
She heard the chink of the wineglass on the counter, then his
fingers tangled in her hair as he deepened the kiss. Livie moaned
and clutched his arms. He was hard against her. She pressed closer.
He dropped his hands to her hips and rocked.

It was crazy, but she wanted him now, here.
She had the sense to realize she’d been thinking about this for
days, needed it. Why deny it? Why keep pretending?

She curled her leg around his calf, opening
herself slightly. It was all the invitation he needed. Dragging his
mouth from hers, he reached behind to shove the plate of cheese out
of the way, then hauled her up onto the counter.

The short skirt flared and she opened her
legs, inviting him in, until he nudged her center with his
erection.

“I wasn’t going to move so fast this time,
but you make me crazy,” he said before taking her mouth again.

She wanted him crazy. Livie tightened her
legs around him and planted her hands on his hips. Close, so close,
so good. He smelled of need and sex. His taste was sweet like the
wine, as if he’d drunk from the glass, too.

“Too fast,” he muttered.

“Too slow,” she answered. Then she pushed him
back, held him away with a palm on his chest. “Make me feel the way
you did the other night.”

She was the aggressor, pulling his hand down
between her legs. His pupils were large and dark. She made him
touch her with his fingers, caress her through her panties. “I
don’t know why you make me want this so badly, but you do.”

He played along her flesh. “So you called me
just for sex.”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes briefly as he hit
a perfect spot.

“But Friday you didn’t let me finish what we
started.” He mesmerized her with the stroke of his fingers. “You
were nervous.”

“I’m not nervous if it’s just sex.” She let
her head fall back, steadying herself with her legs around him and
her hands on his biceps.

“So that’s all you want from me.” Still
playing her with one hand, he edged the silky material off her
hip.

“Yes. God, yes.”

Then he used both hands to yank on her
panties. She lifted, felt the material slide away, and he stepped
back, tossing the panties onto the floor. She was naked beneath the
skirt. Free.

Between her thighs again, he held her hand to
his erection. “Is this what you want?” His face was a mass of tense
lines.

“Yes. Please.” She squeezed him until he
groaned. “I don’t know why you make me feel this way. I’ve never
been like this with anyone else.” She found herself admitting
things she wouldn’t if she were in her right mind.

“You’re like this with me, only me.” He
tugged on his belt, opened, unzipped over the hard bulge in his
briefs.

It was so different from the other night.
Then he’d been playful, coaxing, leading her. This time it was her,
demanding, needing. She pulled him free, stroked the thick length.
He put his fingers on her again, one inside her. She could hardly
breathe. “I want you. Now.”

“You’re so wet.”

She rocked with his movements on her. “It’s
been so long.” So long since she’d felt him inside her. So long
since she’d taken him. So long since...