Man Candy (15 page)

My friends watched him go.

(Actually, I’d bet every woman in the

place watched him go. I hadn’t missed

the stares when we’d come in.) Someone

at the table sighed.

“I agree with Elyse,” Margot said.

“He might be playing around tonight, but

it’s clear he likes you a lot. He wouldn’t

bother, otherwise.”

“Totally,” said Claire.

“Fine, we like each other.” I laid my

coat across my lap. “And we’re

attracted to each other. And we have fun

together. But that doesn’t mean we

should date.”

“Hello! That’s exactly why you date

someone!” Elyse blurted. “If I met a man

who looked like that with a dick like that

who wanted me the way he wants you,

I’d be fucking over the moon!”

“Shhh,” admonished Claire.

“He does have a nice dick,” I

admitted. “And he knows how to use it.”

Elyse groaned. “I’m so jealous right

now.”

“What about his tongue?” Claire

giggled into her Cosmo.

“Haven’t gotten there yet,” I said.

“Maybe later. I promised him a blowjob

for shoveling the driveway today.”

“You guys sound just like my sister

and her husband,” said Elyse, while

Claire and Margot nearly choked on

their drinks. “I bet you get married.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want to

marry him. I’m not sure I want to marry

anybody.” I stood up. “I’ll be right

back.”

I walked past the bar to the racks and

hung up my coat, and on my way back to

the table, I saw Quinn talking to our

server across the room.
What’s he

doing? Ordering more drinks?

I went back and sat down, and he

appeared at my side a moment later. He

took his seat, putting that infernal arm

around me again. “Sorry about that. Did

you get what you needed from your

coat?”

My cheeks burned. “Um, actually it

wasn’t in there.”

“Oh really? What was it?”

“Um, a…lipstick.”

“Of course.” The look on his face

told me he wasn’t fooled, but I was

saved by the appearance of our server

with a tray of appetizers.
Thank God—

surely he can’t eat and smother me at

the same time.

“By the way, I thought you quit

modeling,” I said. “How come your

agent is calling?”

“I did quit, sort of, but there were a

few contracts I couldn’t break. I have to

go to New York next week for a few

days.”

“Oh.”

And the weirdest thing happened. I

realized that I was kind of sorry he was

leaving for a few days…that I didn’t

really want him to go away…that I’d

miss
him.

No, it couldn’t be that.

I’d miss the sex, that was all. Not the

man. Things were just heating up

between us, and his taking off now was

like leaving a restaurant before the main

course was served. I wouldn’t miss him.

I couldn’t. My heart beat erratically, and

the back of my neck felt prickly and hot.

He took his arm off me to eat.

And I didn’t miss it. Not one little

bit.

Whew.

My head was still in the right place.

It remained there until after coffee

and dessert when we asked for the bill.

“The meal’s been taken care of,” said

our server. “Including gratuity. Thank

you so much.”

“What?” said Margot, who was

pulling out her wallet.

We exchanged a look; she and I had

been planning to split the bill.

I glanced at Quinn, who calmly

sipped his coffee. His profile

emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw, the

smooth bridge of his nose, the stunning

length of his lashes. My insides

clenched. Was he really coming home

with me tonight?

He caught me staring and winked,

sending a little flutter through my belly.

“Quinn, did you do this?” Claire

asked. “It’s too much.”

“Not at all. Happy birthday,” he

said. “It was my pleasure to be here, so

thank
you
. This is the most fun I’ve had

in a long time.”

“I’m so glad Jaime invited you,” she

said warmly.

Quinn smiled boyishly at her.

Finally, he’d dropped the act. “Actually,

I think I invited myself. But Jaime had

mercy on me.” Those eyes looked my

way. “She’s got a big heart.”

And things in my head started to

shift.

I DIDN’T SAY much on the way home,

partly because I couldn’t stop thinking

about New York. Would there be female

models there? Would he get hit on?

Would he be propositioned at the hotel

bar? Would he feel free to say yes?

Of course he would. Why wouldn’t

he? You have no claim on him, nor do

you want one.

I didn’t. I didn’t want one. But

truthfully, I felt a little ill thinking about

him with someone else. And I couldn’t

wait to get him into my bed tonight—the

unexpected jealousy had me even more

anxious.

The other thing that had me reeling

was the compliment he’d given me.

She’s got a big heart.

It wasn’t usually something people

said of me. At work I was called things

like sharp, creative, ambitious, good

with a deadline. My family thought I was

responsible and hardworking, which

they appreciated, being career-focused

themselves. My friends sometimes told

me I was funny and loyal and

trustworthy, and I’d heard from men I

was sexy and fun. But I didn’t think

anyone had ever told me I had a big

heart.

I never showed it to anyone.

“Tired, love bug?”

The term of endearment made me

cringe. “Good grief. Please tell me the

love bug show is over.”

“OK, fine.” He was quiet for a

moment, then he started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your face.”

I slapped his arm.

“I meant your face all night

whenever I called you a name.”

“You were ridiculous.” But I

giggled. “Snookums? Gumdrop? Where

did you even come up with that shit?”

“I don’t know. I guess you just

inspired me.”

“Please.” I held up one hand. “I am

not your snookums, nor do I want to be.”

He sighed as he pulled into the

driveway, lining up the passenger door

with the sidewalk. “Aren’t you ever

worried you’re going to hurt my feelings

when you say that stuff to me?”

“Was that…” I sat up taller in the

seat and leaned toward him, like I might

have heard him wrong. “Was that the
F

word
I just heard coming out of your

mouth?”

He grinned, glancing over at me. “I

guess it was.”

“I thought we agreed not to talk

about those things, but no, it is not my

intent to hurt yours, so I’m sorry if I

have.”

He put the car in park. “Here, I’ll let

you out and then park on the street in

case you need to get out in the morning.”

“It’s OK. I’m not going anywhere

early.” I put my hand on the door handle,

but something stopped me from getting

out of the car.

She’s got a big heart.

“Quinn…have I? Hurt your

feelings?”

He smiled. “No, I’m just having fun

with you. But it’s nice to know you care,

buttercup.”

“Blech. I’m getting out now.” I got

out and waited on the sidewalk while he

pulled up a little, leaving the car in the

drive. Walking toward the house

together, I felt his hand on my back, but I

didn’t complain.

When the front door was locked

behind us, I turned off the hall light and

started up the stairs, expecting him to

follow.

He stayed where he was, so I

stopped at the top and looked down at

his silhouette in the dark. “Don’t you

want to come up?”

“I don’t know.”

My jaw dropped. “You don’t
know
?”

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood.”

Always a fucking game with him.

“Felt like you were in the mood earlier.”

He didn’t say anything right away.

Then, “You were a very bad girl at the

table tonight.”

“You deserved it.”

“Your friends see what was going

on?”

I nodded slowly.

“You wanted them to.”

Damn him.
“Maybe.”

“Does it turn you on? Shaming me?”

He started to move toward me then,

slowly coming up the steps.

“Maybe.” My heart pounded louder

as he got closer, my knees trembling.

When he was two stairs below me, our

eyes were just about even. I was trying

to read his in the dark when suddenly he

grabbed the back of my hair, stepped

onto the landing, and forced me to look

up at him.

His breath was warm on my lips.

“My turn.”

FIFTEEN

QUINN

I KEPT my fist in her hair as I slowly

walked her backward into her flat, using

my free hand to open the door. Once it

was shut behind me, I moved deeper into

the dark room until we stood in front of

the window. The curtains were pulled

partway open, and some light from the

street lamps spilled in through the glass.

I spoke softly but with an edge.

“You’re not going to talk unless I say so.

You’re not going to move unless I say so.

You’re not going to come unless I say so.

Do you understand?”

“But—”

I pulled her hair so hard she gasped.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And when you speak, you will say

only the words I tell you to say. When

you move, you’ll do only the things I tell

you to do. When you come, you’ll do it

when, where, and how I want you to. Do

you understand?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good.” I let go of her hair and

unbuttoned my coat, sliding it off and

tossing it aside. Backing away from her,

I unwrapped my scarf and coiled it in my

hands. “Take off your coat.”

She worked her way down the

buttons in the front and slipped it from

her body, letting it fall at her feet.

“Now your dress.”

Lifting it by the hem, she pulled it

over her head and dropped it behind her.

Jesus fucking Christ, she was hot.

Framed by the partially opened

drapes as if she were on a stage, her

body was dimly lit from behind. She

wore only the black boots with the high

heels I’d admired earlier and some sort

of strappy, black lace one-piece that

made my cock jump up like it needed a

better look.

I’d teased her about her pale skin,

but she looked fucking luminous tonight.

I loved the way her hair looked like ink

spilling over her shoulders, the way her

nipples peeked through the black lace,

the way her chest rose and fell with her

quick, short breaths.

“Turn around. Face the window.”

“But the—”

“Do it,” I seethed, “or we’re done

here.”

Slowly, she turned to face the

window. Her lingerie cut low on her

back and high on her ass, and my hands

ached to touch her. I knew she’d been

about to tell me the curtains weren’t

closed and anyone could look up and see

her, but it was late, the room was dark,

and anyway, she deserved a little of this.

“How does it feel, being put on

display like you did to me tonight?”

She didn’t say anything.

“You can answer the question.”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes and no.”

“Why yes?”

“I like…being on display for you.”

“And why no?”

“I feel embarrassed. Someone else

might see in the window.”

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed

about your body. It’s perfect. So perfect

I’m not inclined to share it. Face me.”

She turned around again, and I liked

the way she held herself, spine straight,

shoulders back, chin lifted, feet slightly

apart. It was defensive but also a little

aggressive, telling me I might be calling

the shots, but they weren’t anything she

couldn’t handle.

I wanted to test her on that.

“Get on your knees, Jaime.”

She didn’t do it right away, and there

was a tense moment where I thought the

game was over, but eventually she

dropped onto one knee, then the other.

“Now your hands.”

She put both hands on the carpet in

front of her, and it reminded me of the

way she’d crawled out of my closet to

watch me get naked.
Well, darling,

you’re about to get that up-close-and-

personal look you wanted.

“Crawl to me.”

She crept toward me at a snail’s

pace, her body swaying, her eyes on

mine.

Yes.

Her movements were feline and

provocative, but submissive too. My

chest—and my pants—were fucking

tight
.

When she’d reached my feet, she