Betrayed by Love (10 page)

By the time he parked in the lot of an upscale seafood restaurant near the Delaware River, some of my nervousness had dissipated.

“I hope you like seafood,” he said, offering me his hand as he opened the passenger door.

“I do,” I gave him my hand. And I like you too.

He stood very close to me and made it impossible for me to alight from the car without brushing against him.

I looked up at him. “You’re as subtle as Jen is. It must run in the family.”

He laughed and slipped an arm around my shoulders.

That felt so nice and natural, I slipped mine around his waist.

Over dinner, I discovered that we were both Philadelphia Phillies fans. He said he tried to attend a number of home games each season when his travel schedule allowed.

“I watch as many games as I can on TV and when they come to play in L.A., I always get tickets for the series,” I told him.

“When are you returning to L.A, Linea?”

I wasn’t about to admit that depended on how well our date went. “I’m not sure,” I hedged.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

“Jen and I are driving down to the Jersey shore tomorrow morning after breakfast. Jarrod will join us there tomorrow night.”

“How long will you be down there?”

“We’re planning a long weekend. Jarrod will leave Sunday night, but Jen and I will probably drive back here either Monday night or Tuesday morning.”

“What are your plans down there?”

“I don’t have any other than lying in the sun, swimming, and reading. We’ll probably go to Atlantic City at least one night for a little gambling.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

I nodded.

“Perhaps we can have dinner when you return.”

I smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

“So would I.”

We spent the rest of the meal discussing baseball. Seated over coffee he asked if I wanted to go somewhere to dance. The idea of dancing with him again set off tiny fires in my nether regions, but after my lustful dreams of the night before, I decided dancing with him wouldn’t be wise. I might make a fool of myself by grinding against him like a low–class hoochie mama.

“Thanks, but I probably should pass on that.”

He leaned across the table to gaze into my eyes. “Why?”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Yes. Why? It’s not like we haven’t danced before. You know I can control my hands and the rest of my body.”

The problem was I didn’t want him to control his hands or any other part of his body. Not that I was about to admit that. “Well—” I began.

“Good. It’s settled.”

“What? What’s settled?”

He grinned at me. “We’re going dancing.”

“We are?”

“Yes. We are.”

My heart had never been broken because I’d always gone out of my way to retain a large measure of control in my love life. Like most women I wanted to fall in love, get married, and have kids. But I wanted those things in my own time and under circumstances of my own choosing. I wasn’t sure I wanted a man like Grant in my life. He seemed prepared to take charge of our relationship. I guess I was used to men willing to give and allow me more control.

Nevertheless, Grant had things his way that night. The way he determined we were going to go dancing when I’d already declined his invitation should have been an indicator that he might be trouble. Maybe part of me did know that but didn’t care.

While I sat staring at him, wondering why I didn’t insist he accept my refusal, he signaled for the check.

“Grant, I’m not in the mood to go danc—”

“We’re going dancing.” He grinned suddenly, casting a quick glance at my breasts. “Me and the girls have decided. All you have to do is be gracious and get with the program because the decision is made.”

I stared at him.

He stared back. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “If you and the girls agreed, who am I to try and stand in your way?”

“That’s the spirit. Never try to come between a man and his girls.”

“So now they’re yours?”

“If not now, they soon will be,” he said, his smile vanishing.

I bit back the urge to ask him if there was anything intimate he had I could claim—like his cock.

He suddenly arched a brow and smiled. Almost as if he’d read my mind.

“It’s yours if you want it,” he said softly. “And I hope you do. If you’re not interested, I’ll bet my girls are.”

“I wouldn’t count on that, Grant.”

“Oh, but I am. I can almost feel them hardening.”

My nipples were taut. I swallowed hard and punked out by looking away from his intense blue gaze. I ignored his soft, taunting laughter.

He reached across the table to brush his hand against mine. “I’ll behave for the rest of the night,” he promised.

I shrugged, annoyed at how gauche I felt. I was too old to feel so unsure of him and myself.

He gently squeezed my hand. “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said, pulling my hand away.

He smiled. “That’s the spirit, Linea. I admire a woman who gives as good as she gets.”

“Ask me if I care.”

He laughed.

I liked the sound of his warm laughter and the way his eyes sparkled when he did.

Less than an hour later, we were dancing slow and close together in a dimly lit lounge called For Lovers Only.

With the combination of his cologne teasing my senses and his palms pressed against my back as he guided me around the room, I felt lost in him. He was sexy as hell and exuded a sensual confidence that infused me with heat and desire. It took all of my willpower not to link my arms around his neck and rub myself against him in a way he’d find impossible to misinterpret. But I managed—barely.

Despite my level of sexual discomfort, he kept his composure. He didn’t allow his hands to wander below my waist to my ass nor did he use our slow dance as an excuse to cop a feel.

We shared several dances before we returned to our table. I had a drink. He had bottled water. While I struggled to think of something witty and entertaining to say, he sat staring at me with a small smile playing around his lips—as if my struggles amused him. Damn him.

“Why are you trying so hard? Just let things take their natural course,” he said.

That was easy for him to say. Despite all his talk about my breasts, he seemed annoyingly cool and unfazed by my presence.

I ignored him.

He flashed his pearly whites at me.

Damn him and that sexy smile of his.

“Are you finished with your drink, Linea?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like another?”

If I had another one, I might jump into his lap and flash the girls at him. “No, thanks.”

“Then let’s dance again.”

I was feeling horny and thought dancing with him again was a no–no. Nevertheless when he rose and stood by my chair with his hand extended, I gave him my hand and rose.

He linked his fingers with mine.

I felt almost as giddy as a teenager as we returned to the dance floor.

When he folded me into his arms, I practically melted, pressing my breasts against his chest.

He sucked in a breath.

I smiled. Now we were both a little sexually uncomfortable.

He tightened his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to his hard body.

I surrendered to the inevitable, pressing my cheek against his shoulder.

We made no pretense about dancing this time. We just openly ground against each other. We shared two slow grinds before my nipples were hard and I felt his cock stirring against me. If we kept that up, I would be hard pressed not to slip my hand between our bodies and palm his cock. And I wasn’t about to stoop to that—at least not in public. I pushed my hands against his shoulders. “Grant?”

He lifted his cheek from mine and looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”

His voice was even and held none of the tension I felt.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I think we should go.” To bed. Oh, hell, take me to bed before I burst a blood vessel. Please.

His arms tightened around my waist. It was only for a moment, but I felt the unmistakable outline of his cock. Yes! He was horny too. I wasn’t prepared to have intercourse with him that night, but damned if I didn’t want to fool around a little—a lot.

The thought of his hands cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples or palming and slapping my ass just made me hornier than ever. In that mood, I considered anything short of allowing his cock into my pussy acceptable on a first date.

But first I needed to be alone with him. I pushed at his shoulders again.

He sighed, allowed his arms to fall away from me and stepped back. He glanced at his watch. “How about we take the long way back?”

I wasn’t really interested in taking the scenic route because I just wanted to feel his big hands on my bare flesh ASAP. Still, I wasn’t interested in having him think I was an easy lay. How far did he live from the club? Would we make it to his place or start groping each other in his parking space?

“Linea?”

I nodded. “The long way’s fine.”

We left the club hand in hand.

I’m a modern woman but I love a man who likes to hold my hand in public. I’m not sure why unless it’s the thought that he can barely manage to keep his hands off me. There’s something undeniably sexy about a man unable to resist the urge to touch me.

For one electric moment when he held his car door open for me, he bent his head.

I held my breath and lifted my chin, eager to feel his mouth on mine and to taste and suck his tongue.

Instead of kissing me, he brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek, stepping away from me.

Disappointed, I slipped into his car.

He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Once he’d started the car, he turned on the stereo, and drove away.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the soft jazz as I allowed myself to fantasize about our giving each other a scorching sixty–niner. It had been quite awhile since anyone had eaten me and my pussy was suffering from tongue and mouth withdrawal.

Imagine my surprise when he parked the car and I opened my eyes to find we sat in Jen and Jarrod’s driveway.

I turned to look at him. Surely he didn’t think I was going to make out on their patio or inside their house. Or worse, did he and they expect us all to play together?

He got out of the car and walked around to hold the passenger door open.

When I made no effort to get out, he reached into the car to take my hand.

A jolt shook me. Feeling needy, I slipped out and leaned against him.

He sucked in a breath.

I smiled until he quickly stepped away from me. What the hell was his problem?

He provided a last unpleasant surprise of the night when he said good night and let himself out of the house. He left me standing alone in the foyer, unkissed, uncaressed, and filled with sexual frustration. Well, damn. He certainly knew how to put a damper on an evening.

After standing there for what felt like forever, I sighed and headed for the stairs. I was surprised but pleased to make it to the guest bedroom without encountering Jen or Jarrod. The last thing I wanted was to talk with either one of them.

After I undressed and prepared for bed, I sat studying my reflection in the vanity mirror.

What had I done wrong? He surely must have known I wanted and expected a kiss at the very least. Damn him. I sighed. If he didn’t call the next day to ask me out, I was going to be pissed. “But he will call,” I assured my frowning reflection.

I spent a restless night wondering why Grant hadn’t made a definite date with me. In the morning I woke tired and irritable. A bouquet of flowers from Grant arrived a little after nine. That brightened the day for me and left me anxiously awaiting his call.

But he hadn’t called by the time we left for the shore at eleven. That put a damper on the ninety–minute trip for me. Jen was uncharacteristically uncurious about my date with Grant the previous night. She rattled on the entire drive until I felt like screaming at her to shut up for one damned hot minute!

Even arriving at the shore place, a three–bedroom house just two blocks from the beach did little to improve my disposition. Jen was still going on and on about nothing and with each passing minute, the silence from Grant put me in a worse mood.

Jen placed her house keys on the living room coffee table and slapped her forehead. “Oh, hell!”

“What’s wrong?”

She stared at me. “I have to go back home.”

“Now?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

“I forgot my birth control.”

“Let Jarrod bring it when he comes.”

She stared at me and then blinked rapidly. “I would…except he doesn’t know I’m taking it.”

“What?”

She shrugged. “He kind of wants another child.”

“And you don’t?”

She glanced away and shrugged. “I love him dearly and the twins are a source of endless joy for me, but I’m not going to go out of my way to get pregnant again. So I have to get it myself.”

Great. Their marriage is so wonderful she’s making decisions like that without any input from him. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Oh, there’s no need for you to come all the way back with me.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Positive. You stay here and make yourself at home. Take either the middle or back bedroom. There’s food in the fridge. There are several lounge chairs as well as a table with an umbrella on the patio out back. There’s also a hot tub out there where we can relax and let the kinks out. You know the beach is only two blocks away. I’ll leave the keys with you in case you want to walk down to the beach. I should be back by four.”

Relieved not to have to listen to another three hours of her endless chatter, I nodded. “Do you want me to start dinner?”

 “No. You’re a guest, but you are on your own for lunch.” She kissed my cheek and left the house.

I carried my suitcase into the middle room, changed into a two–piece cotton Capri set, and settled down with my ebook reader on one of the well–padded loungers on the patio out back. Between my restless night and the warmth of the sun, I soon became drowsy. I turned off my ebook reader and drifted to sleep.