Read Can't Buy Love Online

Authors: Jayne Rylon

Tags: #Erotica

Can't Buy Love (6 page)

BOOK: Can't Buy Love
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“Hi.”
Really?
Brilliant, Sarah.

“Hi.” Rick peers around me toward the kitchen. “Everything all right?”

“Uh-huh.” I hide my hand behind my back and step aside so he can enter.

He bends down to kiss me. We both freeze, unsure of how to proceed. I refuse to make the only date of my life awkward. Denying our physical attraction now would be ridiculous. I savor his lips, loving the thrill such a simple treasure can inspire.

“Mmm.” He doesn’t pursue more than a brief yet thorough welcome. “These are for you.”

He offers me a giant bouquet from Amsterdam’s famous flower market. No boring roses here. I recognize the green chrysanthemums, a few orchids and sprigs of verbena—making me wonder if Rick could possible enjoy Faulkner as much as I—between the tiny twisted twigs and unusual samples of beauty.

Unique, gorgeous and vital, they call to me instantly.

I extend my hand to accept.

“What the—” He inspects the red splotch darkening my tender skin.

“Little mishap. Nothing major.” I try to hide the damage, but it’s too late.

“Like hell. Come on.” He steers me toward the galley, easily visible in the open layout of my efficient apartment. “Run it under cold water.”

I sigh, reclining against his chest as the warm circle of his embrace shelters me and the cool stream from the tap soothes my stinging flesh. If only I could chill the rest of my rioting nerves.

“It smells great in here.” His compliment wafts tendrils of hair from my face.

“I hope dinner is edible. I’m not much of a cook.” I wince when I consider how Rick devoured his meal the last time we ate out together. Eating is clearly a highlight of his day.

“I would have done the honors if you’d asked.” He kisses my temple then folds the edge of the foil off my masterpiece. “Doesn’t seem like you needed my help though.”

“I wanted to try it. For you.” I slip my fingers from his then shut off the water. “For us.”

“Better?” He picks up my hand and presses a featherlight kiss to the wound.

“Much, thank you.”

“I’d love a tour. Houseboats this near the skinny bridge are hard to come by, but…” His stomach growls. “I’m starved. Can we eat first?”

“Sure.” A ridiculous thrill tingles my insides as Rick makes himself at home, carving the pork and serving us both. While he’s occupied, I pour the rich Spanish priorat I’d aerated in the crystal carafe I bought myself for Christmas.

“I thought maybe you’d given me a fake address.” He picks up the conversation when we settle in around the hardwood table bolted to the dining room floor. Though the water in Amsterdam’s canals is usually smooth as glass, I suspect my houseboat has as many stories to tell as I do, if only someone could listen. “I’ve seen you leave the district heading the opposite direction about a million times. I thought you lived over near Dam Square.”

“I’m careful. Never know when a customer will decide to follow me home for more.”

He blinks at me, his fork frozen halfway to his parted lips.

I wince. “Not like this. Never like this before. Sorry, it’s all so new. I guess my habits are old-fashioned paranoia.”

“You’re not unreasonable, Sarah. Smart.” He twirls a piece of meat through the sauce on his plate then pops it in his mouth. “I’ve had to warn a slew of cretins from bugging Tommy’s girls. I’m glad you take precautions.”

“Always. I adore my job. Truly.” I swallow my first bite of the meal I’ve prepared, pleasantly surprised with the tang spreading across my tongue. “Still, I never allow myself to romanticize the situation.”

“I’ve noticed.” Rick groans. “Damn. This is fantastic.”

“Thank Mari.” I grin.

“Don’t worry, I will.” We both pause as the overtones hang in the air. Is it okay to acknowledge Rick’s visits to the other women in the district?

“If you’re not comfortable…” He winces.

“No, no. Please. We both know the score.”

He nods then dedicates himself to worshipping the meal before him.

When I finish my portion, I lean back and twirl the stem of the glass holding my respectable wine. I study Rick’s flexing throat, wondering how something as simple as a man eating can turn me on. Damn him and his sexy ways.

He groans as he rubs his tight abs, slightly bowed from his indulgence.

I rise to clean the plates and he attempts to follow. I still him with light pressure on his brawny shoulder. “Let me.”

“Don’t assume you have to wait on me here.”

“I realize you don’t expect me to serve you outside the window. Good thing too.” His concern warms my heart. “I’m choosing to do this. This time. Next time you’re on kitchen duty, big guy.”

“Deal.” He smiles then wanders the main living area while I settle our plates and silverware in the dishwasher. “This place is fantastic, Sarah.”

I glance over my shoulder to spot him running a fingertip over the intricate woodwork in the living room as he admires the view through the lace curtains shielding my window. Outside, an enclosed glass patio filled with greenery makes the ideal spot for sunbathing or tourist watching on warm afternoons. The details of the houseboat apartment have captivated me often. “I knew the moment I stepped inside this was my home. I’ve been talking to the landlord about buying him out. He’s hesitant to sell. I’m hoping some of the Kinkmas pageant paycheck will finally change his mind.”

Rick nods, appraising the luxurious appointments in the cozy space. “A solid investment.”

I towel my hands dry then wave him toward the private end of the boat. “The bedrooms are over here.”

I take him through the efficiently concealed and stowed laundry space, the glistening tile of the main bathroom, the soft amber hues of the guest suite and finally to my haven. White silk floats over the canopy—and a mountain of decadent pillows—stirred by heat rising from vents in the base of the paneled walls.

“I’m in a love goddess’s lair. Will you have to kill me now that I’m privy to the location of your secret hideout?” One corner of his mouth kicks up in a sultry smile. “Or maybe you’ll keep me chained to your bed for eternity. If I can’t escape, I can’t spill your secrets.”

“I kind of like that option.” I grin. “Except, I think I’d like to try being the person tied up one of these days. You piqued my curiosity when you bound me with the Christmas lights onstage during the Kinkmas pageant. I loved being at your mercy.”

“Shit.” He braces his broad palm on my dresser, shaking it with the contact. It never seemed dainty before. “I’m trying to behave.”

“Why?”

“Because, despite the fantasy-come-true it would be to lay you down on that cloud of fluff and make love to you so slowly neither of us can stand it, I won’t risk missing the chance to show you how much more there could be to this.” He waves his hand in the shrinking space between us.

“The least you can do is hold me while we talk.” I reach for his fingers, entwining our shaking hands and lead him to my bed. I slip off my heels then crawl onto the center of the mattress, relishing the glide of my luxurious stockings and modest black dress against the rich, clean bedding. “I missed you.”

Rick groans as he toes off his shoes and joins me. He bundles me in his arms, squeezing tight. My nest has never seemed as comfortable as it does with him beside me.

“Me too, love.” He rubs his chin over my head. “I’m sorry both of us suffered. I had some serious thinking to do.”

“What did all that brain power come up with?”

“I decided I have to try this, try…something.” He’s never looked so serious before. “One of the reasons I’m so attracted to you is your uninhibited acceptance of nature. Of arousal. Of sexuality.”

“You understand. I can tell you share my values.”

“So, I hope you won’t freak out when I admit I don’t really believe people were intended to be monogamous. Too many relationships crash and burn in spectacular failures because of sex. Either one person loses the spark or they find it with someone else and hide the exhilaration of that discovery from their partner, who may or may not experience the rush for their mate any longer.”

I don’t realize my grip pinches his arm until he flinches. Could he be saying what I think? “No kidding, Rick. Do you have any idea how many men, or women, I service because they need something they can’t find at home and are riddled with guilt over seeking it elsewhere?”

“Because they still love their spouse, right?”

“Yes. They just aren’t attracted anymore.” I sigh.

“Or there’s so much tension built up over their different desires they can’t enjoy themselves with all that drama sleeping in bed with them.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“I’m sure it is, Sarah. Story of my life really. My parents divorced before I finished elementary school. Both remarried a handful of times. They still love each other. It’s insane. They stay apart because of archaic social values they probably don’t even believe in. They’re not happy apart. They can’t stay together.”

I burrow beneath his heavy biceps, nudging him until he rolls to his back and invites me close to his heart. I curl up against his chest, laying my cheek on the toasty sweater covering his pecs.

“I always swore I’d never tie myself to one person, guaranteeing I’d continue the cycle of misery. I never understood why someone would believe any single woman could be enough.”

“And now you’re going to tell me some Christmas miracle changed your mind?” As much as I wish it were true, my experiences make it hard for me accept monogamy as a viable long-term arrangement. Rick’s understanding has been one of the things I’ve always admired.

“No. Sorry.” He strokes my hair absently, naturally.

“Thank God.” I peek up at him and can’t resist stealing a taste of his taut lips. A tiny sip, a caress more intimate than the most crude fucks I’ve had through my window.

“I guess I started to hope I’d finally found the one woman who could understand my viewpoint without trying to change me or convince me I need counseling. My mom said—”

“Wait. You told your mom about me?”

“Yeah.” His eyes turn warm and his smile reminds me of the time I bought him a half-smashed cupcake from the automatiek at Febo for his birthday.

“Well, how the heck did that go?”

“She smacked me upside the head for not inviting you to Christmas. Thanks a lot, by the way.”

A chuckle escapes as I imagine his surprised offense. “Sorry. Still think I made the right call there. It’s one thing to break the news you’re crazy enough to date a prostitute in a quiet kitchen moment and another entirely to show up with her to Christmas dinner.”

“I wish I didn’t agree…” He grimaced. “You were right. Anyway, my mom said we each have to craft our own form of happiness and that she hasn’t seen me look this excited since her and my dad caved to my constant begging for a puppy when I was five.”

“Glad to know I rank up there with Fido.” Damn. I didn’t mean to cloud his gorgeous eyes.

“Carver.”

“Excuse me?”

“My dog’s name was Carver.” He cups my chin and tilts it up until I can’t deny the honesty in his gaze. Rick never lies to me. He never attempts to mask the gritty realities of our adventure together with sentimental smoke and mirrors. “I value this, whatever this is between us, and you far more than that mutt, and he was my best friend for close to fifteen years. No matter what happens here or if we can really pull off something this ludicrous, I’ll always have you on a pedestal.”

Tears sting my eyes.

“Hey, crap.” He pats my shoulder with an awkward jerk of his hand. “What’d I say?”

“I guess that’s one of the few things that freak me out about my job.” I haven’t admitted this to anyone, even myself, so plainly before. “When men assume I’m less than human, some animated object they can rent for a handful of minutes because I chose this profession. I refuse to service clients like that for repeat performances.”

“I’ve heard.”

“You have?”

“Sure. And bonus points to Mari for keeping my secrets like she promised she would.” Rick doesn’t continue.

My lids sink until his wry smile turns hazy in my narrowed stare.

“Don’t take it out on her. I made her promise not to blab about the guy I wiped the floor with.” His fingers flex on my ribs as though he can still feel the ache resulting from his legendary right hook. “Heard him bitching to his loser friend in the alley outside her window while I paced, waiting for you to finish up with someone else one night. I guess he’d had his pride stung when you refused to service him. He’d gone for a few brews then came back full of distorted perspective and unwise bravado, bragging about how he’d show you what you’d missed out on.”

“Oh.”

Rick traces the ring of my pursed lips with the tip of one finger.

“The only thing that terrifies me about your job is the thought of someone hurting you. I’m not going to lie… I saw red when he described all he had planned, even though he probably couldn’t have gotten it up as drunk as he was. He took one step toward your window and next thing I knew I’d laid him out on the cobblestones. Mari tugged me off him before I went too far. She hustled me inside.”

BOOK: Can't Buy Love
12.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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