Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out (9 page)

“Uh-huh. Now shut up and keep that mouth working.”

“Gladly.” His tongue nudged aside the material of her shirt, and he went for his goal, only to be thwarted by a bigger problem.

The leak had spread. The water weighted down the raft so that more gushed in over the sides.

The raft wobbled. Cami let out a shocked gasp
and dropped her grip on his hair to clutch the side of the raft, which started to collapse. “Tanner!”

“One more kiss,” he said, leaning in.

Her mouth was warm and soft and tasted like soda. For an instant she melted to him, kissing him back, but then the water hit high on their thighs, and she pulled away, gasping. “So much for the perfect date.”

It had been perfect to him. “Perfect's relative,” he told her.

Then the water hit the sensitive-to-cold area directly above and between his thighs. “Now swim!” he said in a voice an octave higher than usual.

“G
OODNESS
,” Cami's mother said after she'd listened to her daughter repeat the events from the river-rafting date. “What caused the leak?”

“Fate, I'm sure.” Cami was on her cell phone, and as usual, her mother had caught her just as she was pulling into her town house complex. She'd been gone since the day after the rafting incident, traveling to San Francisco on a referral from Dimi, which had actually panned out.

After two days of talking carpets, colors and lines, Cami couldn't wait to dig in and start.

Also, in spite of herself, she couldn't wait to see Tanner again.

“What happened?” her mother demanded. “Don't leave me hanging.”

Cami parked and got out, her cell phone caught between her shoulder and her ear, one arm carrying her overnight bag, the other full of work materials. Juggling everything, she headed toward her town house. “We swam for shore.”

“And then?”

“And then nothing,” she said as casually as she could to the woman who could sniff out a lie within two thousand miles.

“You're leaving something out,” her mother said slowly, her radar apparently well and working. “I can smell it.”

Cami made it to her front door and set her head against the wood. “Mom.”

“What next?”

“We walked back to where we'd left his truck.”

“It was running, I assume,” her mother said. “Don't tell me it wouldn't start and he hitched a ride, deserting you.”

“Oh, it started. The tow truck guy had no problem at all.”

“What?”

Cami had to laugh, it was so ridiculous, and she was so incredibly date cursed. “He'd parked in a duck zone and got towed.”

“A duck
what?
”

“Zone. No parking allowed because it's where the ducks gather their little ducklings. Don't you dare cackle like that, this entire mess is yours and Dad's fault respectively.”

“Oh, do tell how you figure that!”

“Well, Dad is always dumping his wife for someone better. And then there's you.”

“Me?”

“You're always turning men down, waiting for someone better. Do you realize I destroy every potential relationship by sabotaging the date, subliminally of course, so that I don't have to dump him down the road? Or
be
dumped, which actually is far more likely.”

“No one would dump you.”

“Yeah, and the moon is made of cheese.” Cami held out her key, but the door was ajar. From the back end of the town house she could hear banging.

Tanner.

Her stomach jittered. Or it could be the five doughnuts she'd consumed, but probably not.

Always, she'd told herself she wanted a man but that there wasn't one available. Sadly, that wasn't the truth.

She didn't
allow
one to be available. She'd always been told that knowing your problem was more than half the battle, but that wasn't the case here.

She knew her problem, and it was
still
a problem.

She was afraid. More afraid than when she'd
been sleeping in Ted's stupid car. More afraid than when she'd been fending off an even more stupid Joshua.

She knew Tanner wouldn't like it that she feared him, but it was fact. Somehow he'd reached in past her wall of resistance and had taken a hold of her heart.

“Honey, I hesitate to say this—”

“You never hesitate to say anything.”

“Hush. I'm not going to hound you about your laundry.”

Good. Because at this moment Cami was so low on clothes she'd been forced to go commando—no panties. If her mother knew, she'd have a coronary.

“I have this neighbor. He's young and—” Oh, my God. “Hold it right there.” Cami laughed. She could do little else. “Try Dimi. I happen to know she's home, probably eating my food, the thief.”

“Your sister is not a thief.”

“Uh-huh, right. Look, I have to go. Love you, though.”

“I love you, too. Now really, he's—”

“Bye, Mom.” Gently she hung up and shook her head. Some things would never change.

Walking through the living room, she dumped first her phone, then the load in her arms.

“Cami.”

At the sound of his voice, she shivered and sank to the arm of the couch. They hadn't seen each other much. She'd been working, and he'd…well, given the looks of him, he hadn't been.

He stood there, so gorgeous she would have sat, if she hadn't already done so. His hair shone in the light, nearly hitting his shoulders. His eyes gleamed with some inner knowledge and good humor, and she wondered if he planned on sharing the joke. Then there was that mouth of his, the one she'd dreamed of every single night.

And finally, his body. She'd never seen him dressed in anything but jeans and a T-shirt, but now he wore a long-sleeved, incredibly soft-looking black shirt, tucked into black pants. No shoes. She'd always imagined men's feet as incredibly…well, ugly.

Tanner's bare feet seemed nothing short of sexy. “I took a shower,” he said. “I hope you don't mind.”

Mind? She just wished she'd known. It would
have given her mental images she could have used for a year's worth of fantasies.

“I have something for you,” he said.

Her mind got stuck on that one.

“Come with me?”

Tanner held out a hand, and when she took it, he pulled her up and led her down the hallway, which sported beautiful hardwood floors and freshly painted walls. He'd installed new wiring, too, that would allow her to have a hall light and a bathroom light on at the same time without blowing a fuse. “This is so beautiful,” she said, reaching out to feel the texture of the wall.

“Don't touch,” he said, grabbing her hand.

“Wet paint. And if it's beautiful, it's because you have great taste.”

She stood there facing him, both her hands now captured in his, looking at his face, which was still lit with far too many mysteries. “What are you up to?”

“I have another date for you.” His mouth curved slightly. “Me, again. But this time, no cruise.”

“No,” she whispered. God, no. She'd found him practically irresistible last time, even though it had been disastrous. She couldn't do it again.
“I thought we decided we were out of each other's systems.”

“I lied.”

“Well, I didn't,” she said unconvincingly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I washed you right out of my hair, along with all the river water.”

“This time I'll get it right.”

He already had it right, dammit. “Tanner—”

With a finger to her lips, he turned and led her down the hallway. And then opened her bedroom door.

He'd finished the room. Completely. Flooring down, oak baseboards in place, oak trim on the two large windows and window seats. The oak ceiling fan was on low, and he'd managed to find the exact pale mint green she'd wanted for the walls. He'd even brought in her bed, made up with the white fluffy lace comforter and the dozen pillows she loved so much.

It was the only furniture in the room.

Which wasn't what caught her attention. No, the hundreds of white candles he'd lit on the windowsills and around the edge of the room did that. Rock played at a surprisingly soft volume from his CD player, next to a large picnic basket filled to the brim with food.

With candlelight flickering over his face, Tanner turned to her, his gaze touchingly nervous. “This is your real fantasy date,” he told her. “Good food, candles, music. We can eat, dance, talk. Anything you want, it can happen, right here in this room.”

Oh, boy.

“So what do you want, Cami?” he asked softly.

What she wanted, quite suddenly and impatiently, was standing right in front of her. “The date is over when we leave this room?”

His gaze never left her face. She could have sworn she saw disappointment flicker over those strong, beautiful features, but it was gone so fast she knew she'd imagined it. “Yes. It's over when we leave this room.”

Telling herself she could believe it, she tried to relax. “You went to so much trouble.”

He bent to the picnic basket and came up with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He handed her one, and when she took it from him, his fingers brushed hers. The bolt of pure lust that shot through her shocked her into making a little gasp.

“Cami?”

She meant to take only a tiny sip of the wine, elegantly, with some amount of sophistication.
After all, she hadn't been born in a barn. She could show this man that she could have a hot, passionate affair—and she was fairly confident it would be hot and passionate—and then walk away. But God, she was so nervous. So nervous she gulped the wine. The unfortunately large sip went down the wrong pipe, and she began to sputter very unattractively.

And in the process, spilled half her glass down her front.

Tanner grabbed the glass while she continued to wheeze. Eyes watering, nose running, she coughed and coughed and finally managed to smile at him. “I'm okay.”

“And wet,” he said regretfully.

“Yeah.” Only one way to get past this strained moment, she thought, and that was to get seduced. Heck, she was
already
seduced, and he hadn't even touched her yet, so before she could tell herself it was a stupid idea, she reached out and up-ended Tanner's wine, as well.

Since he'd just taken a sip, the glass was high enough that the wine spilled down his chin, his throat and all over his chest.

“Whoops,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Now we're both wet. I'm so sorry. Let me—” Leaning close, she nipped at his chin.

Shock held him immobile.

She shifted closer and ran her mouth over his throat, lapping at the drops of wine she found there. “Mmm,” she said. “Better than out of the glass.”

When she nosed aside the material of his shirt to nuzzle at hollow of his throat, he moaned. “Cami…” His eyes were closed. “Let me set down my drink.”

“Hold on.” She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hands beneath the material, sighing at the feel of his warm—and wet—skin, his sleek, tight muscles. She slid his shirt over his shoulders so that it fell to his elbows, trapping him by the glass he held in each hand. Unable to help herself, she reached out and licked at the drops of wine over one impressive pec. “You taste so good, Tanner.”

Swearing, he staggered back a step. Empowered by his naked reaction, she followed him and pressed her body close.

“Cami—”

She shut him up with her mouth. She had to because, one, she didn't want to hear anything he had to say. She knew this was temporary, and though her heart was already complaining, she couldn't think about that.

And two, she'd never been so hot in her entire life. Never had a man set out to please her, and the music and candles and food did please her, but mostly it was the effort he'd made.

He got into the kiss quickly, expertly, opening his mouth to hers. Making a sound of relief, she plastered herself against him. Since he was wet, and so was she, they stuck together, but she just kept on kissing him. She couldn't stop. His mouth reminded her of his voice, quiet yet demanding, though he didn't say a word.

The fear and uncertainty she'd felt only a few moments before vanished entirely, replaced by a heat and a hunger only he could assuage, so she gave herself up to it. “I want to make love,” she whispered against his mouth. “Now? I know you really wanted to eat first, but—”

A rough laugh escaped him. “It's your fantasy date.”

“Well…” She grinned, feeling wicked with him as she'd never felt with anyone else. “Honestly? My fantasy would be you in a tool belt with nothing else on.”

She definitely shocked him with that. He just stood there.

“But we can start with the basics,” she added.

“The basics.” He sounded strained. “Can I set down the glasses first?” Letting out a nervous laugh, she took his glass and set it on the floor. Before she straightened, he reached for her, pulling her against him, burying his face in her neck, feasting his mouth on her skin while his hands skimmed over her body.

The heat and hunger spread, and Tanner knew just where to touch her to make it worse. When he slipped off her blouse and unhooked her bra, tossing both over his shoulder to the floor, she nearly cried in relief. Then, when he cupped her bare breasts in his hands, plumped them up and brought his mouth to her aching nipples, she did cry out.

His shirt hit the floor. Then his pants. He was reaching for her slacks when she remembered. Before she could open her mouth, he'd skimmed the material down her hips and went utterly still.

“Cami.” He seemed seriously oxygen challenged.

“Tanner.”

His gaze was glued to the area her mother had told her never to let anyone look at. “Where's your underwear?” he asked hoarsely.

“Um…my underwear isn't going to play a part tonight.” To prove it, she pressed her bare chest
to his and lifted one equally bare leg to his hip so that she could rub herself shamelessly against him.

With a rough groan, he staggered back and encountered wall. “Wait—”

But she couldn't. She didn't want to ever wait again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted both legs, hooking them around his waist.

He swore softly, or maybe it was a prayer, but the next thing Cami knew, he'd gripped her but tocks and entered her. Good thing he held her so tightly because at the long, hard, hot feel of him stretching her to the limit, she would have sunk to the floor.

His face was a tight mask of barely restrained control, and he held himself utterly still. She didn't want still, she wanted wild, fast, she wanted…out of control.

Now.

Using him as her lever, she surged up and sank down on him.