The Men of CLE-FD updated (14 page)

Regan blushed.  “I’m not doing that. I just want to look cute while I’m getting dirty.”

 “You’re hoping to seduce that man, aren’t you?”

Regan propped her fist on a narrow hip.  “You’re crazy. We have been painting on his days off. Tomorrow, we are hanging wallpaper. We won’t have time for hanky-panky.”

“Hanky-panky?  What are you, eighteen again?  Regan, if you want Orlando, you can make the first move, only play it cool.”

Regan sighed.  “Lincoln, I’ve done everything but throw myself on him.  Oh wait, I did that too.  Anyhow, he isn’t interested in me romantically.  I’m beginning to think we will have nothing but a platonic relationship.  I will be his tenant, and he’ll be my landlord.”

“If you feel that way, why do you continue to help him with the house?”

“Well, I am living there and I kinda made a bet with him.”

“What kind of bet?”

“That I could paint and wallpaper and other home repairs.  I have to show him I’m not a diva,” she said, stomping her foot.

“Oh my God, Regan–you are a diva.  We went to Neiman Marcus for clothes for you to hang wallpaper.  I don’t think there is such a thing as fashion for hanging wallpaper.”

“Lincoln, I’m using this project as an excuse to be with him. I was hoping the quality time spent with him would break his walls. His ex-wife screwed him over, and I think he is a little timid when it comes to relationships.”

Lincoln flipped through several hangers of painter’s pants, picking a black pair for her sister.  “I understand being attracted to a guy, but don’t make yourself look desperate, okay?  Let Orlando wonder what he is missing by playing hard to get.”

Regan replaced the red coveralls on the rack, turning to her sister.  “Do I act like I’m desperate?”

With her brows drawn together in a frown Regan rarely saw from her sister, Lincoln shook her head.  “You’re getting pretty damn close.  I don’t want you to demean yourself.  He is attractive, but no man is worth losing self-control over.”

An ill fog fell over Regan. Had she done it again? All the foolishness was about to end. Starting tomorrow, if Orlando Torres wanted more from her, he would have to pursue her the old-fashioned way.

Regan took the black pants from her sister and snatched an oversized novelty t-shirt from a reduced sales rack, throwing the items into the shopping cart.  The sexual energy hammering through her body would be bottled and stored until further notice.  Her sister’s impromptu lecture made perfect sense and she refused to chase him any further.  “This is good enough,” she said, pushing the cart to the check-out.

Lincoln snapped her fingers.  “Now you’re talking!”

Chapter Six

Orlando refused help with unloading the car and sent Regan inside the house.  The rain that eluded the city the majority of the summer finally materialized coming in the form of severe thunderstorms.  He kicked the backdoor shut with his foot dumping the rolls of wallpaper on the floor.

Regan began to unpack grocery bags on the newly installed granite kitchen counter.  “What you got there?”  He asked peeking over her shoulder.

“
I have cheese, crackers, and fruit for snacking,” she said lifting containers from a bag.  “And, shrimp etouffee that I purchased from this gourmet market not far from here.  I will heat it when we are ready to eat.  I made it home from the store before the storm.”
 

“
Good thing you did.  Anyhow, what you have sounds a lot better than the take-out food I was going to order.  I have coupons for pizza,” he teased.
 

“
Dinner is on me tonight, handsome,” she said opening the fridge putting the containers inside to stay fresh.
 

Orlando’s ego swelled along with the bulge in his pants.  Regan was treading on dangerous water by using sexy terms of endearment with him.  Every syllable rolled off her tongue with a buttery flow stroking the naughty areas of his mind.  He may have carried himself gentlemanly in her presence, but he was a man with needs that were overpowering his urge to stay celibate.  Even in the oversized t-shirt with Big Bird pasted down the front, Regan was getting him hot under the collar.

He licked his lips.  His mouth salivated watching her hips shift with the movement of her legs.  Her luscious behind screamed
touch me
in his head.  He fought the urge to take a cell phone picture to use privately later. 

The rain beat hard against the window breaking his absorption of Regan.  He had promised Anthony to move things along with Regan and he was.  After his altercation with Maggie, he could not get Regan off his mind.  When she called to confirm if he was still coming over, he reacted as a teenage boy looking forward to his first date.  It was her call that made him realize he was losing the battle with himself.  He had fallen hard for Regan. 

Although, he did not know where he stood with her since the night of her birthday party, he had noticed her flirtatious nature had calmed dramatically.  She had not mentioned the date with Jon’s brother or being with any other man, but her content nature when they were together could mean she accepted him only as a friend and gave up on wanting anything else.

Working himself into a dander, Orlando gathered the rolls of wallpaper and glue and went into the living room.  With the renovations to the house almost done, he would not have a reason to hang out at her place on his days off.

Since renting the house to her, he had been there fixing something or helping her arrange furniture.  The only rooms she had completely furnished were the bedroom and kitchen.  They would work side-by-side in the bedroom sharing stories and laughing, but no intimacy arose.

The one night he had been there working in her bedroom, they were sitting on the bed after putting it together.  He could not help but become aroused by her sexy look in baggy clothes, a scarf tied around her head and paint smears on her face.  He wanted to make love to her on the spot, but knew that was not an option.  His only alternative was a long shower when he got home.

Staring absently at the wall, it hit him next month was the competition at Terminal Tower.  Regan had not mentioned attending, but he would not mind her being there lending her support or waiting for him with open arms and a huge kiss to celebrate his victory.

He spread tarp over heavy plastic before getting started.  The newly laid hardwood flooring turned out better than he thought.  When Regan suggested going with parquet floors instead of carpeting, he at first hinged on the idea.  As usual, her keen sense when it came to style prevailed.  She had been right about painting accent walls in bold colors and wallpapering the wall surrounding the fireplace.

As he knelt on one knee mixing glue together, a pair of sexy toes peeking from oddly shaped gold-leaf high heeled shoes came into view.  He looked up to see Regan looking down at him.  Orlando grinned resting an arm across his knee.  “You wore a Big Bird shirt and those silly-looking platform shoes with no heels.  Isn’t that a fashion faux pas or something?”

Regan wiggled her toes.  “I’m comfortable.  And my shoes will not stop me from papering walls.”  She took in a breath and propped her hands on her hips.  “Where do you want me to start?”

“
I can’t let you climb on a ladder wearing those things.  I’ll hang the wallpaper; you sit somewhere and look cute.”
 

She gave a neck-roll saying, “That was a sexist thing to say, Orlando.  Why don’t you admit you are trying to get me to lose the bet?”

“
We are still doing that?”  He said scratching his head, “You won.  You painted walls and helped me lay the flooring.  You've proved you are not a dainty chick.”
 

She rolled her eyes.  “What did you call me?”

“
Regan, you know what I mean when I call you that.  So, stop acting sensitive.”
 

She raised her chin matter-of-factly.  “I am not sensitive.  Well, I am prepared to work and that’s what I intend to do.”  She grabbed a roll of wallpaper and stormed over to the ladder propped against the wall.

“
Regan, be careful, that ladder is old and unsteady.”
 

Laying the material on the mantel, she wiggled the ladder testing its sturdiness.  “I know what I’m doing!  This dainty chick can manage to climb a ladder without a big strong firefighter’s help.”

He crossed his arms watching her hold onto the wall to balance her weight on the ladder.  “Regan, did you notice there is no glue on that wallpaper you took.  How do you expect it to stick to the wall?”

She snarled at him.  “I’m aware of that.  Just bring over the dang glue and shut your trap!  Once again, I have to show instead of tell you what I can do.  It doesn’t matter if I’m dressed casually or looking fly—this girl’s got it under control.”

He laughed mocking her.  “Baby, I’m all for the show.  If you want, to make it easy for you, I could just toss glue directly on the wall.”

The ladder creaked and tilted when she turned around to flip him off.  “You’re full of jokes aren’t ya?”

Orlando set the glue cup on the floor uneasy with her on the ladder wearing those gravity shoes.  He moved closer to her.  “Come on, Regan; get off the ladder before you fall.  I didn’t mean to make fun of your shoes.”

“
Are you going to give me the glue or do I have to get it myself?  Never mind, I will get it myself,” she said lowering her foot on the bottom rung only to lose her balance.
 

Orlando’s long arms reached and caught Regan falling backwards from the ladder effortlessly.  Years of experience catching falling bodies from second-story windows or victims tossed from firefighter to firefighter made this rescue a breeze.

Her body landed softly in his arms.  He raked his gaze along the length of her hating he had let the conservationist stigma he had attached to him keep him in denial.

For once, he chose to ignore the self-preservationist part of his mind he listened to usually.  The space around him vivified.  The hues of the room never seemed so rich or alive.  What he wanted and needed had fallen into his arms and did not seek immediate release.

Her dark eyes came into focus as he studied her face.  He didn’t want sex with Regan nor did he want occasional romps in the hay ending with massive orgasms—he wanted to make passionate love her.  He longed to hear her scream his name with passion and desire.

As if Regan read his mind, her arms circled his neck.  His mouth hovered inches above hers until she took the initiative and pulled him to her, licking his full bottom lip, and kissing him senselessly and uncontrollably.  The pungent scent of wallpaper glue and her perfume lingered under his nose as their mouths devoured each other.

Regan’s upper body moved wildly against him as he balanced her in his arms.  She did not weigh as much as the weights he lifted, but his arms under her weight weakened causing his knees to buckle.

He lowered her to the floor lying next to her not releasing the kiss.  The heavy thunderstorm pummeling against the house beat in rhythm with the hard pounding of his heart.  Every muscle in his body tightened.  Sweat pooled on his forehead and across the back of his neck as her hand began a slow, leisurely stroll to explore the parts of his body open to her.  The blood pulsing in his ears obstructed any verbal demands from her to stop.  Her looking up at him—through long lashes killed any indication she wanted him to cease his seduction.

Her hand fixed on his fly.  She broke the kiss and licked her lips.  The impact caused his manhood to swell to near bursting.  “Let me free him,” she said in a voice full of lust.

“
Not yet, I want to see you first.”  He took hold of the bottom of her shirt pulling it up.  Regan willingly raised her arms above her head to help the ease of removing the garment.
 

Orlando took a minute to soak in the beauty of her body.  She was thin, but shapely.  The flesh of her breasts was firm as he gently squeezed them through the white lace bra.  Pushing the bra up, her dark nipples hardened as his breath hit them, his mouth watered for a taste.  Wantonly her body arched as he sucked hard on her nipple, gently licked and moved to the other.

The heat of her skin burned his lips as he pressed against her neck.  He wanted no other woman the way he wanted Regan Richards.  With no regrets, reservations, or voices telling him to retreat, he allowed the romantic sides of him to take the lead.

Burying his face in her cleavage, he kissed down the center of her chest to her stomach.  He whispered lowly.  “Regan, I want to make love to you.”

She jerked forward when his fingers found the button on her pants releasing the snap and easing the zipper down.  His hand eased beneath the waistband of her panties to cup her mound.  Breathless, she clutched her head against his collarbone replying, “Yes.  Make love to me, Orlando.”

He lifted her hips slightly to shrug the pants over her hips.  The familiar sounds of heated seduction escaping her throat meant he had not lost any skills during his celibacy period.  Only this was not a refresher course for him.  He wanted this experience to embed in Regan’s senses forever.  He wanted her to wake up aching for him and go to bed thinking about him.

His hand massaged her mound feeling the moisture leaking into his palm.  Her breathing staggered with each stroke of his finger over her slick folds.  He fingered the damp curls but did not venture further into the folds of her womanhood.  He didn’t want to rush anything.

He took possession of her mouth again and she began to suck gently on his tongue.  His fingers brushed down her slender throat to her collarbone.  Her hand went between his legs releasing a groan as she squeezed his manhood.  He pulled away from the kiss to release a deep groan against her jawline then bite on her earlobe.

“
Oh, baby, you caused that,” he mumbled.
 

He pushed her gently on her back and leaned over her.  She panted, as he continued to tease her with kisses to her stomach and darting his tongue inside her bellybutton.  He slowly kissed the spot between her waist and hip bone, not giving into her impatient hands clawing at his body.  He was taking his time and exploring every inch of her body.