Candlelight Conspiracy (7 page)

“I thought it’d be more scientific.”

“Like a recipe?”

“Yep.”

“It’s more about heart. Feeling.”

She ran her fingertips up his arm and over his jawline. His skin started to tingle; Sophie created a want like nothing he’d ever felt before.

“What inspired your new song?” He was fishing and it was pathetic, but he had to know.
Can I be your muse?

She shifted and looked past him to the flame. “Candlelight.”

He stared at the flickering flame, too.
Makes sense.
The fire
was
sensual. He could see that. He’d be happier, though, if she’s said him or them. Was what they were experiencing even real, and did she feel it, too? Sophie equaled complication—adding her to his life on a full-time basis would take away time from the restaurant, from his dream. Yep, Sophie was a concern.

He swiveled his head back to Sophie, and her beautiful brown eyes searched his. He leaned in, eyes open, and kissed her. For a moment, she didn’t close her eyes, and it was the sexiest act. Then her bright eyes slowly drifted closed at his full embrace; he watched the need flow through her skin and felt it in his lips. She rolled flush onto his body and, with a visceral need deep in his core, he gave in and closed his eyes, breathing her in.

She spread her legs over his lower abdomen. She cupped his neck and jaw as he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs. He could feel her all over; the sensation of her skin covering his was intoxicating.

Her hand slid down his stomach, and his breath caught as she wrapped her hands around him, guiding him into her. Slowly, she moved, pulling up the length of him before sweetly, slowly, sliding back down. His mind kicked into overdrive with a vengeance—how good she felt, the thrill of each second, the ways in which he needed her.

Sophie was sex on a stick, and he was lucky enough to be the stick. She moved her lips down his neck and licked the line of his collarbone.

She was testing his patience—toying with him—and it was making him harder than ever. Like a miracle, Sophie moved faster, and he leaned up to be closer, to consume her.

She sat up and rocked her hips on his, driving him deeper. The light from the candle danced around the room and shadowed her breasts and torso. He moved his palms tenderly up her tummy; cupping her breasts in his hands, he rose up to run his tongue along her nipple before taking it in his mouth.

Tonight, he had Sophie, and she had him. He was going to make sure it was the best night of their lives.

Sophie closed her apartment door the next morning, pushing away the hope of bumping into Marc. Their night had been fantastic. Hell, the best she’d ever had. They’d agreed no strings, and she was perfectly willing to adhere to the pact. But something as titillating as they’d shared shouldn’t be experienced for only one night.

As their night in each other’s arms progressed, the feelings intensified. Their connection became more than the need for sexual satisfaction. She could see it in his eyes, she felt it down deep in her soul. What they’d shared was special.

Donning a short black dress, black leggings, red cardigan, and her favorite black riding boots, she ran a couple of errands before working on her lyrics. She could pop into Sizzo’s and get a bite to eat, but then he would probably consider her a stalker. She pressed her lips together and pouted internally. Rarely did she find herself in the position of wanting more out of a relationship. The one day she’d rather be at the flower shop than home alone trying to write songs would be today. Figured.

Channel your feelings into lyrics. Use them.

Her phone buzzed, and she smiled. “Hey.”

“Hi, babe.” Candace’s cheery mood leapt through the phone.

Sophie added a box of Cap’n Crunch to her basket at the corner grocery store. “I take it the staycation is going well.” With a sexy man like Luke, there wouldn’t be any other kind for Candace.

“Very. I love the flower shop, but dang it’s nice to take a break.”

“How was Christmas?”

“Good. Little odd at first, but my parents are always like that. Are you getting songs written?”

“Actually, yeah, a pretty good one. I mean, I think. I don’t know. It probably sucks. I haven’t slept well.” Sophie hunched over and reached up with her hand holding the basket to rub her temple. She needed a hot bath. And wine. She should definitely buy a bottle of wine.

“What’s up? Thought that’s all you wanted to do—catch up on sleep and write.”

She could feel Candace’s sudden concern.

“There’s this guy … my neighbor.” My hot, sexy, blond neighbor who makes every single bit of me scream.

“Did he finally say hi?”

“Oh, ya know … yes.”

Candace laughed. “Someone’s been having a good time.”

Boy, had she ever. Such a good time she couldn’t remember what her life was like only a few short days ago when she wasn’t kissing Marc. She wished they were kissing right now. “Such a good time. But I don’t know. It’s a lot all at once. And quick. Things have moved quickly.”
Understatement of the year.

“Aw, you have a case of the feels.”

“Shut up. I do not.”

“Uh, ya, you do. You wrote a song about this guy, right?”

“Maybe.”

“Then what’s the problem? This seems like a great thing.”

“It’s too … ”

“You have to take a chance, Soph. I know it’s not easy.”

“It usually ends up badly anyway. What’s the point?” Sophie asked. She seriously needed a good answer.

There was always something missing—like the men she dated were a solid 90 percent of what she was looking for, but somehow they always missed the last, best 10 percent. So what was going to be missing from Marc? That was the question of the day.

“Life. Living life. You’ll be miserable until you give him a try. Believe me, I know.”

Just a short time ago Candace had found her own happily ever after, and she’d fought it tooth and nail. Sophie had witnessed her friend’s slow destruction and surrender, and it was the best thing in the world. “We’ll see.”

“Just take it one step at a time. You don’t have to plan your entire life out today. But you owe it to yourself to see where it goes. You deserve to be happy, Soph.”

“Thanks, Ace.”

“And I’ll need some serious details next week.”

Sophie chuckled. “We’ll see about that, too.”

Sophie grabbed a bottle of wine to go with her cereal and checked out, deciding against Sizzo’s for lunch, and returned home after sufficiently crossing off items on her to-do list. She turned the corner from the stairs into the hallway and slowed. Marc was unlocking his door.

Despite wishing and dreaming all day about seeing him, touching him again, she felt awkward being a dozen feet away. Had he heard her? Should she say hello and get his attention?
No.
She continued her leisurely pace and tried to hold her paper sack from the music store especially still.

Marc’s head swiveled, and they locked eyes.
Too late.
A tingle started in the back of her throat and spread to her cheeks.
Don’t blush. Don’t blush. You’re fine.

She grinned and made sure her voice was light. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He was holding two white to-go containers in his hands. “I knocked, but you weren’t home.”

He’d knocked? And possibly, hopefully, brought her lunch?

“Errands to kick off the vacation.” She swayed her small paper sack toward him to offer proof of her morning.

“Are you hungry?”

Am I ever
. He was probably talking about food, though. “Absolutely. Thanks.”

He finished opening his door and motioned her inside.

“What’d you make?” she asked.

“An old Graystone favorite.”

My family favorite?
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” She set her purse, bag, and shoes on the floor by the front door.

“Spaghetti.”

She stared at him. The sweet man standing in front of her had listened. She’d told him a tender memory, and he had paid attention. A mix of emotion filled his blue eyes—excitement, fervor, and hunger. The passion she’d witnessed last night was alive in Marc. He set the containers down and crossed to her. In one motion he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted. She hugged his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Marc pushed her back against the wall, next to the closed front door.

She welcomed the move.

• • •

Marc couldn’t help his need. He couldn’t refuse himself the happiness of being near her, touching her, or being inside her. He’d been unable to concentrate at work. All he saw was Sophie—Sophie’s skin in the candlelight as she sang to him, Sophie’s brown eyes dancing with laughter, Sophie lying naked on his bed staring up at him with desire.

Now, she was in his arms, and his body felt relaxed and tense all at once. Sophie had a calming effect on him. When she was in his arms, she set him on fire. Lava coursed through his veins, and she was the only one who could cool him off.

She held him tightly with her legs, pressing him against her completely. Her hands caressed his body and moved to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping. He wanted her now, but he couldn’t bear to move his hands from her skin. He cupped her breast and bent his head to run his tongue along her nipple before taking it into his mouth. Her nipple tightened to a point as his tongue slid around it, sucking and kissing. She moaned into his hair, and he smiled, trailing kisses up to and along her collarbone, up her neck to her ear.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered into her ear, then nibbled on her lobe, kissing his bite.

A breathy “please” passed between her lips before he kissed her hard, breathing in her light, citrus scent.
Grapefruit.
The scent he should’ve known the first time he caught a whiff would now be his favorite forever.

She had his pants lose around his hips, and it didn’t take much to slide them and his boxers down. Before they fell, he grabbed his wallet, pulled out a condom, and covered himself.

Thanking everything holy in this world that Sophie was in a dress, he hiked it up with ease. Moving her tiny underwear to the side with his index finger, he couldn’t wait a second longer. He found her center and filled her completely. A groan escaped his lips, and he heard Sophie catch her breath. He looked into her captivating brown eyes and saw something he didn’t expect: tenderness.

He brushed his nose against hers, letting her see the passion in his eyes, and their pace quickened. He closed his eyes, searing the moment into his brain for eternity. With every thrust and kiss and feel of her body pressed against his, he couldn’t hold back. He had absolutely no control with Sophie; he wanted everything from her and wanted to give her everything he had in return.

“Oh, Sophie … ”

“Marc,” she cried out, and he felt her pulse with each beat of his heart.

He couldn’t hold back. He was too far, and she felt too good. She sucked on his neck and ran her tongue in a circle before she lightly bit him, sending him into euphoria.

She clung to him, both of them breathing hard. He kissed her cheek, and she kissed his collarbone.

He didn’t release her; he wanted more time. Their lovemaking was special, but it was shaded by a sinking feeling. He felt so much when he was around Sophie. Feelings he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Could they sustain their relationship? Was he at a place in his life where he could maintain a life with another person?

The short answer was no.

Marc set out plates full of spaghetti on his dining table after all of their clothes were back in their rightful places. Sophie took a seat and crossed her legs. Her day officially could not get any better. A hunky man who couldn’t get enough of her, a thoughtful lunch, and time to write more songs. Yup, life was where she wanted it to be—in her pocket.

“I had to heat it up a bit.”

His goofy half-smile made her chuckle.
I’ll eat cold food all day long if we’re doing naughty things against the wall.

“The delay was worth it.” She winked. “Smells wonderful.”

He’s amazing.
The man sitting across from her had only been in her life for a couple of days, but already she wanted him there for years to come. The longevity of a relationship had always seemed like an impossible feat, but after seeing Candace fall head over heels in love, even though it was new love and anything could happen … maybe Sophie needed to reevaluate the concept. If it were possible for someone as headstrong as Candace to let herself get swept away, there was certainly a chance for her.

“It’s not fair really,” she continued. “The food I usually make isn’t near as delicious. You’re spoiling me.”

“We’re getting busier at the restaurant.” He smiled. “You might have to stock up on cereal.” He focused on his plate and wrangled a meatball.

What does that mean?
And what was with the smile?
Hadn’t he been the one asking her over for meals all the time?

“I’m always stocked up on cereal.” She wrapped noodles covered in tomato sauce on her fork, but suddenly the bite wasn’t very appetizing.

“Are you having a productive morning?” he asked.

She studied him. His body language hadn’t changed, and he watched her with a pleasant expression. Maybe he’d just wanted sex, and maybe she did, too. Their affair could be meant for a couple of hot encounters only. She could accept their chemistry for what it was: hot, instant, available, and temporary. A nagging feeling started in her chest and rose; she’d never been good at accepting what she didn’t like.

“Yeah. Got my list checked off. I need to work on some Orange Heart business.”

“So are you the finance person for the band?”

“I’m the main contact, keep the books in order, and, sometimes, the tiebreaker for the set-list order.” She couldn’t make eye contact with him. “In the beginning, we had a lot of scheduling conflicts because we were all takings gigs.”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen. I understand.”

“Did your delivery truck arrive?” It was either make conversation or get up and walk out. The latter might cause too much of a ruckus and require her to explain her actions.