She stepped in, laden with two grocery bags and froze. “Sloane, oh. Sorry.” Color darkened the delicate skin across her cheekbones. “I thought you weren’t getting home until later tonight.”
He took the bags from her. “What’s in here?” He glanced in one bag and saw a couple rotisserie chickens, deli containers and a bottle of ginger ale. “You bought all this?”
“I thought I’d see if Drake could hold down a little rice with some white meat chicken in it.” She was so tense, her lips were almost white.
“What’s wrong? Is your leg hurting?”
“No more than usual. I just… God, I walked right into your house. I swear I thought you weren’t coming home until around midnight, and I didn’t want Drake to get up if he was comfortable. Sherry, with Diego’s help, has hired some new nurses that are starting tomorrow. I was just going to sit with Drake since Ethan would be busy getting you. But you’re here so I can leave. Uh, how was your trip?”
She was babbling, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from her. Her hair flowed down around her shoulders, those delicate pink streaks standing out against the brown, and her face was scrubbed clean. She smelled of soap and that luscious scent of Kat, his baker girl. Hell, just the sound of her voice soothed his ravaged guts. Sloane set the bags on the side table in his foyer, then pulled Kat into his arms.
She fit. Her softness sank into him. Christ he’d missed her. Tugging her head back, he got lost in her eyes. “You walking into my house? Best damn thing that’s happened to me all week. Don’t leave.” He needed her. Needed this.
“I’ll stay.” Her voice softened into the sweet and sexy kitten he was coming to know so well.
Unable to resist, he lifted her to his mouth, hungry to taste her, to fill the bitter despair with Kat.
She folded her arms around him, her fingers burying in his damp hair as she pulled his mouth closer. In seconds, the kiss heated and flamed. Sloane wanted nothing more than to carry her up to his room and shut out the world.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. Breaking their kiss, he smiled at her. “Let’s go put this dinner together.” He grabbed the bags and followed Kat into his kitchen. She had on some ass-hugging jeans.
Which made him remember their conversation a couple days ago. He fought down a groan. She had asked him to spank her.
Jesus, don’t think about it.
Or he was going to have a massive boner. Damn, how could he not think about it? Kat trusted him, and her trust didn’t come easy.
Setting the bags on the counter, he glanced over to see Kat perched on the arm of Drake’s chair. She put her hand on the older man’s arm. “How do you feel about cherry popsicles?”
His eyes lit up. “You bought some?”
“Yep. If you try a few bites of some rice with chicken in it, they’re all yours.”
Drake leaned slightly to make a face at Sloane. “Hear her? The popsicles are mine.”
“What are you, five?” Sloane stuck the promised treats in the freezer.
“I’m the man who can kick your ass if you touch my popsicles.”
“Bring it, Vaughn.” Hell, what all did Kat buy? Crackers, bananas, some dried noodles that just needed hot water, all kinds of stuff.
“I would, but I don’t want to embarrass you by making you cry in front of your girl.”
Kat shook her head. “Keep calling me his girl and you will make him cry.” She came into the kitchen and pulled yet another item from the grocery bag. “You okay with paper plates?”
He frowned at the package of plates in her hand. “You bought out the whole damn store.”
Kat paused mid-step. “What are you cranky about all of a sudden? That your-girl comment was a joke.”
Yeah, that’s it. She did something nice, something so damned Kat-like, and you’re sniping at her.
He closed the distance between them, cupping her head with his hands. “Sorry, what I meant was thank you, Kitten.” He kissed her. “Go sit down. I’ll put the food out on the coffee table. Do you want wine? Soda? A beer?”
“Water. I’ll get—”
“Go sit and get off that leg. I’ve got this.” She’d worked all day, her leg had to hurt.
“Come on, Kat,” Drake called out. “Tell me how your taping went today.”
Settling onto the couch, Kat twisted to face the older man. “We finished with the footage. Just need some voice-overs, and I have to decide on the pictures.”
Sloane set out chicken, rice, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, fruit and rolls. “The pictures on the flash drive Dickhead brought to you?” He handed her a bottle of water.
Her mouth thinned. “Yeah.”
Sloane sank down next to her with his plate of food. “Have you looked at them?”
Poking at a piece of melon with her fork, she shook her head.
Sloane covered her hand. “Forget the pictures. Did you know John offered Kellen the job?”
She lifted her head, her eyes shining. “He’s so excited, so proud. And Diego is beaming. And oh my God, his folks! They took him and Diego out to dinner tonight to celebrate.”
Had they invited Kat and she’d felt she had to come stay with Drake? Or had they excluded her when she and Kellen were so close? He almost asked, but let it go. She was happy for Kellen. Sloane’s chest swelled knowing he had a small part in that. He hadn’t done it for that reason, but making her happy was a hell of a bonus.
Kat kicked off her shoes and dug into her food. Between bites, she asked him, “How was your trip? You never really said when we talked on the phone.”
“Fine. Working on the paperwork to bring a Brazilian fighter to the U.S. We’re thinking of expanding SLAM gyms into South America.” Hungrier than he thought, he grabbed more chicken.
“Opening a business in another country, that’s complicated.”
“So the lawyers and accountants tell me. The red tape alone keeps them up nights.”
An hour later, Sloane was surprised to see it was past nine. He had Kat’s legs over his lap, massaging both of them but concentrating on her right one. She actually groaned when he worked the tense muscles. His cock twitched hard at that sound. It was too close to the noises she made in bed right before she came apart for him. Forcing his gaze to the dumbass dance show on TV, he said, “Only good thing about this show are the women’s costumes.”
Kat flashed him a grin. “Poor sport. You were outvoted, accept it.”
“You bribed Drake with cherry popsicles to get his vote. That’s cheating.” Sloane glanced over to the recliner. “He’s asleep.”
“That’s good.” Kat laid her hand over his where it rested on her leg. “He ate a little rice and chicken. And half a popsicle. It seems to be staying down.”
She had coaxed, teased and blackmailed Drake into eating small bites over an hour or so. Watching that had made Sloane’s chest ache with bittersweet warmth. His girl, as Drake had called her, had a kindness backed up with steel that took his breath away. “You’ve done so much for him. I’d never have asked this of you.”
“I like him. This wasn’t a hardship, he’s an interesting man.” Fury colored her face. “Besides, the nurse you hired was a bitch. She tried to make him clean up when he got sick. Accused him of getting too excited with two pretty girls around and not listening to her. Made it sound like he was some kind of degenerate scumbag.” Kat’s voice was whisper soft, but her legs tensed with clear rage.
“I didn’t hire her—the agency Sherry hired sent her. However, I’m going to make sure she never works again as a private nurse.” First thing tomorrow morning.
“Good.”
Surprised, he leaned back a little, studying her face. “Hmm. I thought you’d object to me destroying her career.”
“She deserves it. Drake was having a little bit of fun. Enjoying himself. For a few minutes, he was able to forget he was sick, forget the pain that is his constant companion, and she had the nerve to berate him? She needs a new career, preferably in a cubicle pushing paper all day.”
Her empathy wasn’t that surprising given what she’d endured. “Is that what it was like for you when you were hurt?”
She shook her head. “No. I knew I was going to recover, so that’s very different. And no one was mean to me. Not like that.”
“What Dickhead did to you was worse, Kat.” Sloane glanced at Drake slumped over in the chair, his mouth open, snoring softly. He lifted Kat and pulled her onto his lap. “He lied to you when you were the most vulnerable.” He’d done research on Kat’s injury. For at least six weeks, she’d have been unable to touch her foot to the ground for fear of collapsing the bone. She’d been dependent on others for everything.
She put her hand on his face. “But I lived to break up with him. I found what I love.”
His heart stopped beating. Even his blood froze.
“Sugar Dancer is everything to me. And I’m going to build it into something bigger. Better.”
Her bakery. She loved her bakery. Not him. What the hell was wrong with him?
Jet lag. That’s all it was.
So why wasn’t he more relieved? Damn, he must
really
be jet-lagged.
“That’s why I’m going to look at the pictures soon and choose one. If I’m going to do this trailer, then I’m doing it honestly. That attack changed the course of my life, and Sugar Dancer, along with my growing ambition, are the result.”
For one second, he wondered what it would be like to have Kat love him that way.
Not happening. Especially once she figured out his goal.
Pulling his head out of his ass, he shifted her back to the couch. “I’m going to get Drake settled into bed.”
Kat started to rise. “I should get going.”
Sloane shot to his feet and caged her in his arms. “No you’re not. We have some unfinished business.”
Her forehead furrowed, then understanding dawned, her cheeks darkening with color. “Tonight? Here?”
He slipped his hand beneath her shirt and spread his fingers over her back. Leaning close to her, inhaling the scent of melon clinging to her mouth, he told her the flat truth. “All I need is you naked in my arms. Everything else? That’s about what you need. You decide.” He brushed his mouth over hers, then released her to help Drake to bed.
Chapter Eleven
“Stop.”
Kat shut the refrigerator and turned.
Sloane came at her, closing the distance between them quickly. His bare feet were silent. The man had to weigh two-fifty or more, and yet he moved with sensual grace. Even in sweatpants and a T-shirt, he looked amazing. “Stop what?”
“Cleaning up.” He caught her hand and tugged her to a barstool at his island. “Sit. You’re not a maid.” He went to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of white wine, poured a glass, and set it in front of her. “Touch that wine, and you’re staying the night with me.”
She smiled. “Is that your way of asking?”
“Not negotiable. It’s nearly ten at night. I worry about you driving home alone when you’re stone-cold sober. You drink, you’re agreeing to stay. But I have some other choices for you.”
Her heart fluttered. “Choices?” The wine suddenly sounded like a splendid idea. Kat took a sip.
His eyes moved over her face. “First choice, we go in the hot tub. Have some wine, relax for as long as I can keep from burying my cock in you. That will be good for your leg.”
Shivers raced over her skin. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
He loaded the utensils they’d used in the dishwasher. “Perfect, we won’t be wearing them. Drake’s asleep. We’re alone.”
Naked? She took another sip of wine. “What are my other choices?”
“Skip the hot tub and go straight to sex.”
“Oh.” Any sex with Sloane was good sex. Hot sex. Off the charts…but part of her wanted to let go and push her limits.
Finished cleaning up, Sloane put his hands on the island, staring across the granite at her. “There’s still another choice.”
Her mouth went dry. “What?”
“We go up to my room, and you follow my directions that will include you naked over my thighs, your ass at my mercy.” The amber chips in his eyes turned molten. “Are you wearing a thong?”
Heat sparked low in her pelvis. “Yes.”
His smile spread into pure wickedness. “You can leave the thong on.”
Kat couldn’t look away from him.