Somebody's Ex (4 page)

Five minutes later, she carried a
plate of cheese, crackers, and a tube of caviar into the living room. He’d sunk
into the center of her couch. Oops, there was that missing spring. She should
have warned him.

“Here we are,” she said brightly, setting
down the plate, and taking a spot on the edge of the sofa. “This is Jarlsberg
cheese, and that’s caviar.”

David eyed the tube with its
foreign writing. “I’ve got to admit I’ve never had caviar before.”

“A Scandinavian delight from my
parents’ store. It’s not like the black beluga stuff. It’s a paste, and you
squeeze it on crackers.”

This time he eyed her as if she
were one of the delights.

“This is Norwegian caviar. I like
it better than the Swedish stuff. And the cheese is Norwegian, too.”

“I can definitely see the Norwegian
in you. With all that blond hair.”

Right. The man was definitely not
thinking about Norwegian
food
.

“Take your hair down,” he murmured,
his voice suddenly huskier. He tugged lightly on the braid down her back. “Hair
like yours should be loose.”

Her cheeks warmed. His voice sent
shivers down her arms despite the heat flooding her body. Unable to take her
eyes off his gaze, she reached behind and undid the braid. He pulled the freed
tresses forward, the backs of his fingers grazing her collarbone. Everything
was getting warmer, hotter, and she suddenly felt the need to fan herself. He
had a way of looking at a woman, his gaze scanning her face, lingering on her
lips, then dipping down to the pearls nestled at her throat.

She wasn’t a seductress by any
stretch of the imagination. The men in her life, including and especially Mick,
had swept her along with their magnetism, telling her what they wanted in
rough, hot words. David was somehow gentler, sweeter, but he made her no less
hot.

She pointed at the plate. “Do you
want to try?”

“Oh yeah.” His words trickled along
her nerve endings as if he were answering a question that didn’t apply to food.

Picking up the tube, she squeezed a
dollop on her index finger. “Here, taste.”

His eyes glittered with that
enticing black-sand sparkle. Then he took her hand and guided her finger to his
lips. First he licked, then he sucked the caviar from the end of her finger. A
sharp pang of need shot through her.

She hadn’t been with anyone since
the divorce. She suddenly realized how much she missed a man’s touch, the
seduction of his tongue, his lips taking hers.

“Do you like it?” she whispered,
because she couldn’t manage more than that.

“Yeah, I like it.” He took the tube
from her other hand. She was surprised she hadn’t dropped it. “You should try
it the same way. Hand-feeding adds something to the flavor, I think.”

He squeezed a line across his palm,
then held out his hand. “Lick if off and tell me what you think.”

Randi bent her head to his hand.
She’d never done anything like this. Sweet, seductive play. Mick didn’t—she
shoved aside the thought. Mick wasn’t here. David was. And he held his hand out
as if he were offering the world.

The tang of his skin mingled with
the flavor of caviar. She licked his palm, savored his taste, then licked
again, harder, longer. As if she were devouring something completely different,
completely male. His wrist in her hand, she could feel his pulse beat faster.

Then she lifted her head to look at
him. “You’re right. It’s much better that way.”

“My turn again.” He moved aside her
strand of pearls, squeezed a cool dab at the crook of her neck, then put his
mouth to the spot. Her head fell back and her eyelids drifted closed at the
heavenly caress. His clean male scent tantalized her. Beneath her fingertips,
his hair was soft and beckoning. She couldn’t help sliding both hands into it,
holding him close. His tongue and lips stroked and sucked much longer than it
took to lick away the caviar.

Then he raised his head, captured her
with his hot gaze, and held out the caviar. “Your turn.”

She thought about his lips, licking
caviar from his mouth, then kissing him until she couldn’t breathe. Or she
could undo the buttons of his shirt and dab it on his nipples. Her hands
trembled as her mind pondered possible scenarios.

“Do you want me to show you where I
want it?”

Her eyes automatically dropped to
the bulge in his jeans. Holy Moly.

He tipped her chin up with his
forefinger. “That’s rushing things. You don’t want it to end too quickly, do
you?”

“Where then?” She mouthed the word
because her voice seemed to have deserted her.

He unbuttoned his shirt to his
abdomen, then grabbed both her wrists and fell back with her. She landed with
her elbows on either side of his chest. The springs that still remained were
probably poking his spine.

Bronzed male skin gleamed at her.
He didn’t have a hairy chest. She didn’t particularly like hairy chests. He
plucked the tube from her fingers and squeezed a line down the center.

Not his nipples. No private parts.
But an erogenous zone, nonetheless. She wanted to lick caviar off his chest
more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.

“Taste it,” he urged.

Her lower body sprawled across his
legs, she held his shirt open with her fingers and started at the bottom of the
line of caviar. Right above his belly button. She licked and tasted and
relished. He grew against her abdomen, his body pulsing at her stomach as if he
were a part of her. She made it halfway, sucked his flesh into her mouth, then
nipped lightly.

He groaned and tunneled his fingers
into her hair, kneading her scalp.

She slid higher in quest of more
caviar, more flesh, more man. David thrust up against her. When she reached the
last delightful bite, licked his entire chest clean, she folded her hands,
rested her chin on top of them, and looked at him.

“Did it taste good?” he asked.

“Did it feel good?” It had, she
knew it had, but she wanted him to say it.

“I can show you what it felt like.”

Her throat went dry. She couldn’t
simply unbutton the front of her dress, she’d have to take it off.

As if he saw the glimmer of fear,
he slid out from beneath her. Lying on her stomach, she was suddenly cold.

Warm fingers skimmed her spine.
“Close your eyes.”

She did as he told her, resting her
cheek on her hands. Something cool followed the line his fingers had traced,
then the warm slide of his tongue. He took his time, tasting her flesh,
nipping, sucking, devouring her along with the caviar. Her legs startled to
tremble with need and moisture built inside her. This was total eroticism, the
glide of his tongue, the suction of his lips. She quivered in response. Her
legs moved restlessly. She was suddenly out of control, breathing hard and
fast, arching up into his body where it rested against her buttocks. He licked
the last of the caviar with a long delicious swipe along her spine, then
stretched out his legs, flattened his lower body against her, and thrust. Her
legs parted. He slid a hand between them and under her dress, skimming along
her wet center on the outside of her panties. She moaned, rocked against his
fingers, and squeezed her eyes shut until she saw stars.

Then she couldn’t breathe at all as
orgasm swept her away.

When she came to herself, David was
stroking the hair back from her face.

“Can I assume that felt good?”

She nodded because she didn’t seem
capable of opening her mouth and certainly couldn’t open her eyes. Wow.
Although it was a tad embarrassing to have come without him even putting his
hand in her panties. Maybe he
expected
embarrassment. But gee, it had
been too damn good for that.

David dropped a kiss on her
shoulder.

“I’ll have to drop by your parents’
store for more caviar.” He nuzzled her hair. She smelled like an exotic flower,
and her skin was as soft as a kitten’s tail. “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing is right. I haven’t had an
orgasm in a year,” she glanced up at him, then rolled her eyes. “Okay, it’s
been longer than a year.” She covered her mouth. “I can’t believe I just told
you that.”

He laughed. He truly had never met
anyone like her before in his life. She was completely uncensored. He wanted
more.

“I think we should take the caviar
in the bedroom and use it with all your clothes off.” He rolled with her,
pulling her on top of him. “Who the hell knows how good it could get?”

One helluva lot better, he was
sure. She fascinated him. He wondered how she’d make him laugh next. How she’d
take him by surprise.

“I know just where I want to squirt
caviar next.” He smiled, very slow, very sexy, letting the curve of his lips
tell her exactly what body part he’d smear with caviar. And how long he’d take
licking it all off.

Randi flipped on the light in her
bedroom so David wouldn’t trip over the worn spots in the carpet. He set the
caviar on her side table. It wasn’t exactly a side table, but a couple of
wooden boxes stacked one atop the other and covered with a flowered cloth. The
bed was hers. She couldn’t sleep in what her landlord had left behind. She’d
set the box spring directly on the floor so Royal’s hair couldn’t drift
underneath.

“Do you want a refill?” He tipped
the wine bottle at her.

She held out her dime-store
wineglasses for David to pour, wishing she didn’t live in such a dump. What
must the man think of her? But Randi always tried to look on the bright side of
things. He was in her bedroom, and he’d said she was amazing.

She sipped the wine, planning a
host of absolutely amazing things to do to him. Then Royal started a ballistic
bark out in the backyard. And did not stop.

“Mountain lion?” David asked, one eyebrow
raised.

“I’d prefer that over a skunk.”
Please, not a skunk. Please, please, please.

As soon as she opened the window to
shout at the dog, she smelled it, the acrid odor stinging her nostrils. Oh man.

David crushed close to her backside
and leaned out beside her. “Is that mountain lion or skunk? I’m having a hard
time telling the difference.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. This
was
not
funny. She’d ruined dinner, her house was a junk pile, her life
a mess, and now this. “Royal, get your little miscreant butt over here.”

The miscreant cantered into the
window’s pool of light.

“Ewwe.” The stench actually hurt,
her nose stinging and her eyes watering. She slammed the window, but it was too
late. The odor had permeated the room.

Beside her, David plugged his nose,
but his eyes glimmered with laughter. Could the night possibly get any worse?

“I’m really sorry, but I have to
take care of this now or I’ll never get it out of her fur.”

“I’ll help you,” he said with a
nasal twang, his nose still pinched between his fingers.

He was going to stay? “This is very
embarrassing.”

He let go of his nose to hold her
chin in his big, warm hand. “It’s amazing,” he whispered.

“This is
not
amazing,” she
whispered back, almost fiercely.

“I’ve never given a dog a bath on a
first date. That is definitely amazing.”

A first date? As in not the last
date? Randi wouldn’t ask. But she could hope. She could really, really hope.

* * * * *

Three outdoor hosings on the back
porch and three cans of tomato juice later, Royal’s fur oozed skunk stink only
when David stuck his nose against her head.

“I’ll dunk her in the tub,” Randi
said, “I think she’s still got tomato juice clots in her fur.”

Randi truly was amazing. He’d never
had so much fun. Not even with Lou’s or Mitch’s kids. He’d splashed her with
the hose, she’d thrown a cup of tomato juice on him, then hosed him down again.
They’d taken more of a bath than the dog.

Randi’s nipples had burgeoned
against the wet bodice of her dress. He wanted to strip her out of it. Now.

A towel had fallen through one of
the broken boards on the end of the porch, and Royal was pushing an empty
tomato juice can all around the wooden deck.

“Royal,
komme
.”

“You know, I have the irrational
need to hear you use that command on me.”

She scooped the dog into her arms.
“David,
komme
.”

He would. Over and over. He opened
the door for her and her burden. In the bathroom, she plopped the dog into the
tub and ran the water, testing the temperature with her fingers. On her knees
at the tub’s edge, she soothed the shivering animal.

David almost moaned at the sight of
Randi’s swaying backside. “What do you want me to do?”

Man, the things he wanted to do.
What was it about this woman? Her very liveliness made his cock stand at
attention.

“Can you hand me the shampoo? It’s
in the cupboard over the toilet, and there’s a little jug in there, too.”

The bathroom had the bare
minimum—toilet, standing sink with a mirror over it, combination bath and
shower. She must have added the cabinet to store her various personal items.

That was another thing that
intrigued him. She didn’t have a preponderance of stuff. He’d never known a
woman that didn’t. There was very little closet space in the place, but she
didn’t have stuff stacked knee-deep.

“Douse her while I hold her head,
would ya?”

David knelt shoulder to shoulder
with her, scooped water into the jug and wet down the dog. Randi squeezed
shampoo. Her sleeves slipped down her shoulders as she worked in the lather.
Christ, even that made him hot as he imagined her soaping him up. In the
shower. A hot tub. Anywhere. She had long, beautiful fingers with short nails
and no polish.

Randi Andersen was a girl of bare
minimums. He liked that.