Cup of Sugar (16 page)

“Yes.”

He pulled her closer. His lips brushed hers. A soft touch, the promise of a kiss.

Not nearly enough after all the days she’d gone without. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down, opening when his lips sealed firmly in place.

Eyes closed, with Conn’s strong body holding hers tight, the rest of the world slipped away. His tongue stroked into her mouth. Their lips moved and released together. Everything in perfect sync, a sensual rhythm that left her breathless and hungry for much more contact. And a lot less clothing.

“Get a room,” a random, male voice heckled in passing.

Conn pulled back slightly and grinned at her. “I’m game for that.”

So was she. So. Was. She.

“Your place or mine?” he asked with a wink.

The clichéd question jolted her. His place or hers—proximity made them practically the same thing. If she went home with him now, they’d spend the rest of the day and night having sex. Hot, delicious, multi-orgasmic sex. That joke about her falling for him would become less of a joke with each touch. Then what? She’d want more, that’s what. Exclusivity, a fulltime relationship, commitment.

Conn wanted more than friendship. More than some random rolling around between the sheets. But how much more?

“Hey.” He pulled a glove off one hand and stuffed it in his pocket, then stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. “No expectations here, I promise.”

Ugh. If only she could say the same. Be like Sara and have sex for the simple, physical joy of it. Date a guy because he showed her a good time, wave goodbye when it ended. Live in the now instead of constantly chasing the happily-ever-after dream.

She disentangled from their embrace, hugging herself to prevent further contact but passing it off as a shiver. “I’m getting a little bit cold.”

“Let’s head down the road, then.” He let her lead the way, falling in at her side with his hand on the small of her back as they skated toward their boots—and the end of their date.

They stepped off the ice, snagged their stuff and moved out of the way of incoming skaters.

“Here, let me.” Before she could protest, Conn crouched in front of her, unlacing the white figure skates.

Her ankles wobbled in the loosened boots and her hands shot immediately to his shoulders. The action put his face mere inches from her crotch, even if it was hidden by jeans and the bottom of her coat. Regardless, this position was not lost on Conn. He tilted his head slightly and winked up at her.

“Lift.” He tapped her right calf. Once she did, he eased the skate from her foot, replacing it with her entirely impractical, knee-high, leather boot. “I got this,” he said when she reached sideways. He located the zipper at the back of her heel and pulled it up. Slowly. Firmly.

And she thought she’d had a boot-gasm when she
bought
these boots. Seriously, this man gave good zipper.

He repeated the gesture with her other foot. Having both feet securely on the ground didn’t make her knees less jelly-like.

“All right there?” he asked when she swayed a little.

“Fine. Good. Just need a minute to get my land legs back.” And that right there, ladies and gents, was horseshit at its finest.

Conn quickly swapped his hockey skates for his winter hiking boots. He used his glove to wipe the blades of both pairs of skates, slid the rubber guards on hers and loosely knotted all the laces together. He slung the lot over his shoulder—lucky skates—and stood.

He followed her gaze to the skates where they hung against his chest. “I’ll give them back to you at home. I’m not holding them hostage so you have to skate with me every time.”

“Too bad, I’d take that deal.”

One of his slow, sexy smiles slid in to place. He scooped her hand into his, raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her mitten-clad fingertips. “Now I’m in no hurry for winter to end.”

Oh, was it winter? Her body didn’t know it, not with Conn making her warm from the inside out. She believed him when he said he had no expectations. His gentlemanly tendencies were wonderful, but they’d have to take a backseat. Mistake or not, she was going to have sex with him when they got home. Lots of it. Avoiding sex wouldn’t protect her heart. Nothing would at this point. Clothes on or clothes off, she’d already fallen for him.

Chapter Eleven

In Conn’s line of work, accuracy was everything. Miters, joints, irregular angles. Making stuff look seamless required precise measurements one hundred percent of the time. But sometimes it took more than numbers. That indescribable something extra that came from the gut, telling him how to take a thing from flawless to perfect. Instinct, he supposed. Whatever it was, it’d never steered him wrong on the job.

He supposed it was that gut instinct that kept nagging at him where Nia was concerned. Telling him she was worth the “two steps forward, one step back” dance they’d been doing since she climbed into his truck on New Year’s Eve. The pull he felt toward Nia never let up. He hadn’t experienced that with any of the women in his past. Not even with the ones he’d made commitments to. He sure as hell hoped his gut knew what it was doing.

He paused beside his parked truck and nodded at a nearby coffee bar. “Want to grab something that’ll warm you up?”

“If you insist.” A naughty smile curved her pretty lips. She leaned in and grabbed
him
. As in, cupped his cock through his jeans and slid her hand up and down a couple times, finishing the show with a lingering squeeze.

And it was a show. At least for the two guys walking past. “Lucky bastard,” one of them said on a laugh.

Quickly as she’d started, Nia jerked her hand away. Her cheeks flooded with a crimson blush before disappearing behind her hands. “Oh god. Sorry.”

Conn circled her wrists, brought them down to her sides. He backed her against the door of his Durango. “Never apologize for touching me. Any part, any place, any time.” He wedged one thigh between her legs, eliciting a breathy gasp. The sound sent a streak of heat straight to his groin.

His gaze dropped to her parted lips. One taste, just to tide him over. He pressed her tighter to the cold steel and claimed her mouth. So soft and warm and yielding, even as she teased him, luring him deeper with the tip of her tongue. Tide him over—yeah, right.

She squirmed beneath him. Her hips, rocking on his leg. Her hands, trying to break free of his hold.

He didn’t dare let her go. She’d touch him, as he’d just given her permission to do. When she did, he’d have her in the backseat of his truck in under a minute. With the dark tints, nobody would see her head bobbing up and down on his cock. Nobody would see her riding him.

“Shit,” he groaned, forcing himself to break the kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers. Closed his eyes and searched his lust-fogged brain for a distraction. Nothing. Just Nia, everywhere.

“Conn…?” She whispered the question into the charged space between their faces.

“Give me a sec to get control.”

She tugged at her hands, still individually handcuffed within his grip. “I thought you already were.”

He snorted, opened his eyes and found her brown ones waiting. “Different kind of control.”

“What if I said I like
this
kind?”

“I’d say you’re making it very difficult to take things slow and romantic.”

She bit her bottom lip, then let it slide free, plump and pink and glistening. He wanted another taste of that sweet mouth. Very badly. But he took a step back instead.

“Come on.” He led her across the sidewalk, chuckling at the longing glance she cast toward his truck. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Death by lack of blood flow due to a never-ending boner. There were worse ways to go.

* * * * *

The fifteen-minute reprieve from contact hadn’t done much to relieve Conn’s rigid state. Every time Nia’s lips curved over the rim of her coffee cup, his mind jumped back to their night by the fireplace at her parents’ place. Her mouth around his cock. Her invitation to come in her mouth. Her eagerness when he put his hands on her head, made her take him deeper.

He’d jerked off more in the past couple weeks than he had throughout his horny teenage years. Damn libido refused to subside. Not until he had what he really wanted—Nia, under him, on top of him. Daily. Nightly. Maybe even long term.

She set the cup on the table and smiled as she met his attentive gaze. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He needed to know what he’d done to put that particular smile on her face. So he could do it again. A million times.

“I have a list, but at the moment, for today. The skates. Our date.” A flush of pink overtook her cheeks. “The way you look at me.”

Back in his apprenticing years, along with learning the trade, Conn had mastered control of his facial expressions. A necessary skill while working in people’s homes—and alongside the occasional idiot. Apparently that control slipped around Nia. Guess he shouldn’t be surprised.

He liked that she could read his face. Then she’d always know how much he wanted to be with her, whether skating, talking or making each other hot and sweaty. He reached across the table and caught her hand. The connection between them hummed immediately, an addictive combination of familiarity, affection and attraction. He brushed his thumb over the soft skin and her lips parted ever so slightly. Perfect for kissing.

“Aww, look at you two. So sweet.”

Conn knew that voice. And tone. Shit.

Tracy appeared from behind him. She stood beside the table, one hand curled over his shoulder. Marking him? She had to be kidding.

Nia’s pale eyebrows rose. Conn rolled his eyes in response, and she countered with a smile. Might as well get the inevitable out of the way, so he and Nia could return to their excellent day together. Without Tracy.

“Nia, this is Tracy, my ex.”

“Fiancée,” Tracy said.

Definitely marking him. Not happening. With his free hand, he brushed Tracy’s fingers from his shoulder. “I guess we’re getting technical. Tracy is my
ex
-fiancée. Emphasis on ex.”

Tracy’s lips thinned to a straight line. Her eyes did a similar thing and her face took on a reddish tinge. For a couple of seconds, it looked as if she might unleash some of her patented verbal rage on him, right there in the middle of the coffee house. Instead, she turned toward Nia.

“You’re obviously fairly new, because he’s still got that look about him, like you’re the most adorable thing in the world. I could see it from across the room.”

“Then maybe you should have stayed over there,” he said. Shit. Wrong thing to say to a woman who considered herself scorned.

Nia shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched beneath his and her eyes darted between him and the psycho ex from hell.

He should’ve resisted antagonizing Tracy. If he backpedaled and angled for friendly, it’d make the situation worse. All he could do now was sit and wait it out until she left.

“So, um…it’s nice you two are on friendly terms where you can say hello when you cross paths.” Nia pasted on a smile, clearly trying to keep the mood light and friendly. She couldn’t know how wrong she’d been in her assumption.

“Nice? Friendly?” Tracy practically spat the words. And here came the fury. “Let me tell you something about Mr. Wonderful here, Nina.”

“Nia.”

Tracy flapped a hand at Nia’s correction. “Conn is fantastic at making a woman feel special. Until the novelty wears off. Then all he sees are the imperfections.”

Of course that’s how Tracy saw things. They’d broken up almost a year ago. He wasn’t about to rehash the reasons they hadn’t worked out, especially in front of Nia.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Tracy. I really hated hurting you.”

Tracy glared at him, clearly unmoved by his sincere apology, yet again. “Does your new girlfriend know how you feel about love? How about marriage?”

Shit. Bloody fucking shit.

“Is that me buzzing?” Nia withdrew her hand to root through her purse. She pulled out her cell and tapped the screen a few times. “Yup, it was me. A text from the GM. I have to go in to work for a bit. Administrative stuff.” She tucked the phone away and looked at him. “Can you drop me at the restaurant on your way home?”

Ten bucks said she’d fabricated a reason to get away from Tracy. Worked for him.

“Yeah, no problem.” They stood in unison, each shrugging into their coats while Tracy watched. Probably waiting for her opportunity to get one more shot in.

Except Nia beat her to the punch. “I understand how horrible it feels when a relationship doesn’t work out the way you thought it would. Believe me, I’ve been there. I hope you find a guy who likes you just the way you are. We all deserve that.”

Conn stiffened, ready to get between the women if Tracy flipped out.

Surprisingly, she didn’t. Nia’s words seemed to deflate her instead. Not defeat, just soften. She even smiled. Genuinely. Without the angry edge, the Tracy he’d first met peeked through. Conn hadn’t had a glimpse of that girl for a very long time. Then Tracy’s gaze slid to him, and that girl disappeared.

“Good luck,” she said, walking away.

He thought she’d directed the comment at Nia. One look at Nia’s face and Conn realized Tracy’s words had been meant for him.

* * * * *

The drive from the coffee house to her workplace took ten minutes. Ten uncomfortable minutes. Conn had taken her hand as they walked out of Bean There, but when he’d asked if the text from work was real and she’d answered yes, he’d let her hand slide free. He hadn’t called her on the lie, but he’d known. He’d probably seen it on her face.

Nia watched from inside the lobby as Conn’s truck pulled away. She could leave now, call a cab or catch the next bus, but that would require a destination other than home. At this moment, she couldn’t think of anywhere to go. Not when the only place she wanted to be was in the passenger seat of that truck. Or more accurately—anywhere, as long as she was beside its driver.

Today had been wonderful. Conn calling her over to his house, surprising her with ice skates. The utterly romantic experience of gliding over the ice with him, surrounded by strangers yet feeling as if nobody else existed. The kissing—good god, the kissing. And the way he looked at her. Gah.