Just One Kiss (17 page)

“All that platonic lust.”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh. Nice and simple. I want you, you want me, we do it platonically, and then it’s over. That’s why when we finished, I immediately climbed off you, got dressed and left.”

“Ah. Good. Okay, then. Thanks for explaining that.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled against his skin, inhaled him shamelessly. “Anything else?”

“I was thinking…”

“Mmm?” His hands were absolutely delicious, spreading and kneading the muscles of her upper back and shoulders. She wanted to hire him as her personal masseuse. And sex slave.

“Maybe we should keep on using each other like this. You know, many more totally platonic dates where we screw and then leave each other right away. What do you think?”

She kissed the swell of his pectoral, happiness fizzing away inside her. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not sure I feel that platonically about you.”

“No?” She blinked in surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. In fact.” He held suddenly still, which made her breath stop instinctively. “Angela…”

She waited, on a thin edge between hope and apprehension. “Yes?”

“I’m falling for you. You’re…I mean when I’m with you, I…I’ve never felt…” He let out a breath of frustration. “I’m a guy, sorry.”

“No, no, I heard you.” She felt suddenly completely calm. This was right. She was falling for him too and that was completely okay. “You said, ‘Angela, when I’m with you the world is a better and brighter place, and I’ve never been able to feel so myself and at the same time so connected to someone else.’”

“Wow.” He laughed, shaking his head. “That’s exactly what I said. You have excellent hearing.”

“I feel that way, too.” She did. Crazy about him and also strong and intact in herself.

His laughter faded. He put gentle fingers to her chin and drew her mouth near; they kissed again, but with a different kind of passion, the passion of two people who know there is nothing in the world more important or right at that moment than kissing each other to seal an emotional bond.

So she kissed him in that beautiful, sweet…

Um…sweet…

Ooh, not so sweet.

“Angela?”

“Mmm?” She was suckling the skin of his neck, brief bites of total abandon.

“I think we’re about to get platonic again.”

“Oh, yes.” She made her way back to his mouth. “I think so, too.”

“Not here, though.” He invited her off his lap, then led her into his bedroom. “Here this time.”

She looked around curiously, clinging to his hand. “Oh.”

“It’s not much but it’s home.”

“No, no, it’s really nice.” She rushed to reassure him. “Like a cozy…jail cell.”

“Wait, really?” He appeared dumbfounded, eyes dancing. “White-on-white-on-white isn’t your thing?”

“White-on-white-on-white with gray bicycle.” She pointed to it, leaning against the wall, then did another slow spin. “You should get Bonnie to do up an arrangement of silk flowers.”

“Flowers?”
He squinted at her in disbelief. “I’m a man! You forgot this soon after I was inside you?”

“Hmm.” She moved over to the bed, climbed on and tipped her head to look at him, thinking she’d never had this much fun in her life. “Remind me?”

“I guess I better.” He grabbed a condom from his bedside table drawer and settled beside her; she welcomed him with hands leisurely stroking his chest, then his abdomen, down to his penis, which began to swell under her touch. Daniel knelt beside her, so strong and male, while his eyes watching her fingers were lit with warmth. She loved that dichotomy, his powerfully masculine physical presence, and his sweet, funny and kind nature.

He was growing hard, solid and tempting under her fingers. “Ohhh, yes. I’m remembering now. Male. Right.”

“Glad to hear that.” He rolled on a condom, then moved over her with typical grace to suckle her right breast, doing his Daniel-magic, getting her desire to lift its head and say,
Ooh, goody, again?

Yes, yes, again.

Her left breast was next, honored and lavished with adoration that made her hips gyrate in anticipation of what was to come their way.

Except what came their way first was his mouth and his tongue, probing with gentle, wet touches that ratcheted up her breathing and made her body squirm with impatience.

Another sweet nip from his lips, then a long warm trail from the base of her opening up to her clitoris, setting nerves alight along the way.

“Oh. My. That is…” She closed her eyes, basking in the sensations. “Wonderful.”

“You taste so good,” he whispered.

His tongue again, touching, probing, leaving unsatisfied places here, then there, increasing her torture, and her desire. “Daniel.”

“Mmm?”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

A deep chuckle, another light flick of his tongue across her clit. “Good.”

“No, not good. I want.” Her voice sounded odd, urgent, her hands scrabbled over the covers. She was slightly disoriented, and wasn’t sure she should be. “I want…more.”

“You’ll get it.” He kissed her reverently. She didn’t want reverence. She wanted carnal, she wanted wild, she wanted the full length of his tongue, or his cock inside her. “In a minute.”

She whimpered. “That long?”

His fingers joined in, teasing the outline of her sex, passing over her labia, spreading them, then tracing her opening while his lips barely tasted her clitoris, again and again.

Angela was going to scream. She was going to open her mouth and scream bloody murder. She hadn’t ever been made this hot with so many teases, so few touches, so little certainty. She loved it and she hated it. She wanted him to stop and she wanted him to keep going.

“Please.” God, she was begging. She’d never begged. Where was her power now? What had happened to keeping herself—

“Oh!”

Daniel pushed a finger inside her at the same time he lowered his mouth and worked her in earnest.

Angela’s hips lifted off the bed by themselves. She heard herself making guttural, foreign sounds. Her hands reached to clutch his hair; her body writhed. She couldn’t hold back. Whether she wanted to or not, he was going to make her—

“Oh!” Again she cried out, the orgasm slamming into her, second one always more intense. Over and over the waves came and she lost control, lost herself. “Daniel!”

A cry for help, as if she were going to drown in the feeling, which it seemed she might.

Then his weight on top of her, his lips on hers. Angela opened her legs instinctively, still pulsing with pleasure, pleasure that increased as he slid inside and moved urgently, almost roughly. She tilted her pelvis to take him in deeper, wrapping her arms around his upper body, breaths coming out nearly as sobs. His thighs slapped against hers with each thrust, his shoulder muscles strained. When he climaxed he whispered her name.

In answer came his name, followed by those three terrifying and important words, shouting so loudly inside her head, it was all she could do to keep from saying them out loud. She’d seen the edge coming and had been unable to resist, had gone sailing over without any means of slowing or stopping herself.

Daniel, I love you.

13

A
NGELA
STARED
AT
her baking schedule for May, hand poised over her mouse. Lavender éclairs should come out of rotation; they were labor intensive and hadn’t been selling well. If they’d been a new recipe for cookies or bread, they would have been history weeks ago. She’d kept them on for two reasons. One, because new products sometimes needed an extra nudge and she’d like to give them a chance. And two, because she was stubborn and determined, and they’d come to symbolize her dreams for A Taste for All Pleasures’ future.

That was probably laying a little too much responsibility on an éclair.

She used her mouse to highlight the text: lav-en-der é-clairs. Time to be brave, sensible and practical.

Click.
They were gone. See? Easy.

No problem. She was proud of herself.

Urgh.
She put them back.

Apparently it was an indecisive day.

Angela had woken up after uneasy dreams in which Daniel had made love to her, smiling, then shoved her off the bed and shouted “done,” which ushered in the next of what turned out to be a line of sexy, naked women curving around his block. The relief when she realized she’d been dreaming had faded while the queasiness remained. Daniel hadn’t called all day, and her message on his cell had gone unanswered. She knew it didn’t have to mean he’d gotten sick of her already, but…

The office phone rang, making her jump.
Flynn, Daniel
on the display. Hmph. Apparently he’d finished the line of women.

“Hello, Ms. Loukas.”

“Hello, Mr. Flynn. How goes the day keeping Slatewood safe from the forces of evil?”

“Complicated. An employee turned off her virus software to download something yesterday and forget to restart it.”

“Uh-oh.” Angela cringed. “Anything happen?”

“Yup.” He sounded exhausted. “The forces of evil accessed our central data bank.”

“Oh, no! Oh gosh.” Angela immediately felt tenderly protective of his company’s data. No wonder he hadn’t called. Though really, he could have… “Can you do anything?”

“Ha!” His tone was worthy of Captain America. “You doubt my power?”

“No! No, of
course
not.”

“We caught it in time, in fact, the security systems in place worked just the way they should have, and our department got a big pat on the back. But it’s been hell getting there.”

“I’m sorry. But that is wonderful, congratulations.” She swivelled her chair away from the computer. “I bet that woman is relieved.”

“Rebecca?” He chuckled. “You might say that. We’ve been glued together all day.”

Angela swallowed, not loving that image, and hating that she immediately associated a woman with why she hadn’t heard from Daniel all day.

Calm down, Angela.
Her dream meant nothing. As did the fact that Tom’s affair with The Princess had started this way, with innocent mentions of how closely they worked together. Tom was not Daniel. And vice versa. Rebecca was not The Princess. Angela hoped. “Glued why?”

“She’s terrified for her job.”

“Right. Of course.” She tried to sound sympathetic and thought she’d done a good job. Sort of. “What will happen to her?”

“Wrist slap, that’s all. I’ve been trying to protect her from the worst of it. She’s really talented and the company needs her. I do, too, she’s been a big help to me. So I really didn’t want to see her swing for one mistake, even a bad one.”

Angela unclenched her jaw. “You are very sweet.”

“She brought me brownies. I’ll do anything for a woman who gives me brownies. Or—”

“How old is this woman you’d do anything for?”

“I was going to say, or a woman who gives me cupcakes.” He spoke gently. “There is only you, Angela. Believe me. “

Pleasure and sheepish relief poured over her like warm honey. She leaned back in her chair and grinned lovingly at the ceiling. “Really?”

“Re-e-ally.” His voice took on a suggestive tone that made her smile harder.

“Am I pathetic for making you tell me?”

“You were hurt by a schmuck, Angela. It will take time to trust me.”

The rest of her tension fled from the oncoming rush of goopy happiness. Daniel had understood her neuroses instead of blaming her for them. Imagine that. “I think I need to ask for something else, a little more reassurance.”

“Go ahead.”

“Well…” Her grin turned naughty. “If I told you I was sitting in my office in a miniskirt with no underwear on would that make you think about Rebecca?”

His breath hissed through his teeth. “Um…no.”

“And if I told you that my hand was slo-o-owly making its way down between my legs, would you be interested in that image?”

He groaned. “Angela, I have to go to a meeting in three minutes. I don’t think it would be appreciated if I walk in with the Eiffel Tower in my pants.”

“No?” She had to turn the phone away so he wouldn’t hear her laughing. “Mmm, I’m spreading myself wider. Wide open for you, Daniel. Can you picture that?”

“Yes.
Yes.
” His frustration was obvious. “You are torturing me.”

“Gosh, I am
so
sorry.” She waited a beat before giving a sexy moan.

“What now? What?”

“I just put my finger inside myself,” she whispered. “
Ohh,
now two fingers. In and out. It’s warm, slippery and so tight in there.”

“I’ll get you for this.”

A knock at her office door shot Angela up in her seat.
Alice
. Gah! “Yikes, someone at the door, gotta go. When do I get to see you next?”

He chuckled. “Karma in action. I’ll be over tonight. Larry got back to me on your pastries, and we should—”

“He did?” She stood and held up her hand at the window to let Alice know she’d be another second. “What’s the word?”

“We’ll talk about it tonight, okay? You have to go, and I do to.”

“Daniel…”

“All hope is not lost. I’ll be over after closing. ’Bye.”

Honestly. Angela put down the phone. He couldn’t just say thumbs up or down? Though maybe there wasn’t a final decision yet.

She opened her door. “Sorry, what’s up, Alice?”

“Scott needs help out front.”

“Sure.” She saved the schedule document—lavender éclairs still on it—and hurried out to the front, where Scott was finishing with one customer and five more waited.

“Who’s next?”

Scott jerked his mane of black hair toward a young man, handsome in an unusual way—slightly heavy, dark features, hooded eyes, kind of a sexy Italian cherub.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” He was looking at her intently, as if he knew her, while he didn’t look at all familiar. “Uh. I’d like to buy some cookies?”

“Sure.” She gestured to the trays in the display case. “Any favorites?”

“Not…really.”

“An assortment maybe?”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay, yeah.”

“How many?”

“Uh…two dozen?”

She nodded and pulled out a box, thinking he was acting like his mom sent him to buy something and he was scared of screwing it up. His mom or maybe a dominatrix girlfriend.
If you do this wrong, Paolo, there’s serious punishment happening tonight.
“Two dozen, coming up.”

“And cupcakes, too.”

“What kind?” She finished packing the cookies and laid them on the counter. “How many?”

“Oh.” He frowned, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Two dozen?”

Angela almost giggled. Paolo didn’t know how many or what kind. He was getting his bottom paddled for sure. “Assorted flavors?”

“Yeah. Well…make it three dozen. I guess.”

He guessed. Maybe the dominatrix girlfriend was having a party, and Paolo got to play serving-boy.

“Any pastries?” She gestured to the international section. “We have an assortment over here that—”

“No, no, I don’t want any of those.” He spoke as if they smelled bad. Angela pressed her lips together, making an effort to keep looking pleasant. Not his fault, but she could definitely use a vote of confidence in her recipes right about now. Especially if Slatewood didn’t come through. “How about some of those brownies?”

Two dozen cookies, three dozen cupcakes, four dozen assorted brownies, a dozen each scones, muffins and cinnamon rolls later, she was hoping this guy came back often. “That it?”

“That’s it.” He was still staring at her, and she was pretty sure she didn’t look like a dominatrix.

“There you go.” Angela handed him the pile of boxes stacked in a paper shopping bag bearing the bakery cornucopia logo. “Come again.”

“I’d like to.” He backed away a few steps, smiling at her, before he turned and left the shop.

“Someone’s crushing on you,” Scott murmured next to her.

“Yeah, what was that about?” She smiled welcome at her next customer, her favorite, Marjorie, today dressed in a rich yellow softly tailored suit with matching raincoat, the sunshine Seattle had been irritatingly without this month. “Hi, Marjorie. Ready for your muffin today? Cinnamon roll?”

“I can’t live without your cinnamon rolls.”

“Cinnamon roll coming up. Did you want to try any pastry today? Another fruit tart?”

“No, thank you, dear.” She looked concerned and a bit confused, shaking her head. “If I may say…?”

“Of course.” Angela handed her the roll in a waxed bag. “You may say anything.”

“Those pastries.” She gestured to them with a gaunt ringed hand. “They aren’t quite— They lack
passion
.”

Angela didn’t understand, but this was the second time someone had dissed her international selection in the past ten minutes, and she was not amused. Not today, when Daniel had already declined to talk about the outcome of Slatewood’s decision. It felt like a bad omen. “They lack passion?”

“Yes.” Marjorie smiled, handing over exact change. “That’s it. You’re not in love with them. Thank you.”

“You’re…welcome.” Angela looked at her carefully. Were her eyes more vague than usual?

“Hmm.” Scott rang up another order as Marjorie walked out. “I think a few brain cylinders misfired there.”

“I worry about her.”

“You worry about everything. Thanks for saving me. Looks like it’s calmed down.” He handed the customer staring warily at his earring assortment his change and a receipt. “And one makes five. Thank you, come again.”

Angela brushed a grain of chocolate off his shirt and headed for the back. “If you need me again let me know.”

“Yo, Angela.”

Angela turned around. Jack, holding a folder, looking uncharacteristically animated, came in. “Hey, Jack.”

“Got a minute?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She beckoned to him. “Come on back.”

He followed her into her office, greeting a startled Alice with a hug and José with a high five and back slap.

Angela closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I had to show someone. Look at this.” He handed her a series of photographs.

Angela studied them. A woman. Long, dark hair, beautiful exotic features. Arms extended, leg lifted, she was dancing. Or doing Tai Chi?

“She’s beautiful.” More than beautiful. Radiant, with a soulful elegance that was hard to define. Impossible to look at her and not wonder who she was, where she came from, what she was thinking. “Captivating.”

“Yes. Yes.” He paced Angela’s office, which was so small, the pacing consisted of two steps in either direction. Either he was going to get dizzy or Angela was. “She’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” She handed the photographs back with a teasing smile. “Are congratulations in order?”

“A perfect model for the new series.”

Angela frowned. “This is the girl next door?”

“No. No.” Jack stopped pacing, thank goodness, and pushed his hand through his hair. Angela had never seen him this worked up. “I’ve redefined the whole series. She made me see it in an entirely new way.”

“Wow. Jack, this is great.” Angela was mystified. Jack hadn’t ever shared work stuff with her like this. Unless he was excited about this woman for personal reasons. Which wouldn’t be surprising given Jack’s history and the woman’s looks. “When do you start shooting the series?”

“Oh.” He looked uncomfortable. “I haven’t approached her with the idea yet.”

He hadn’t. “Who is she?”

“Uh.” He made a face. “I don’t know yet.”

“Huh?” Angela narrowed her eyes. “Have you actually spoken to this woman?”

“Not exactly.”

Angela gaped at him. “My God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this before. Jack Shea is intimidated by a woman.”

“Ha!” He snorted. “Hardly.”

“Scares your balls tiny, does she?”

“Angela!” Jack cracked up in earnest, something he let himself do too rarely. “There are few things funnier than coarse language coming out of that sweet mouth of yours.”