Cup of Sugar (17 page)

Even having his pissed-off ex crash their date hadn’t marred the day. At first. Relationships ended and, in Nia’s experience, rarely by mutual agreement. People grew apart, shit happened, etcetera. She didn’t expect Conn to have a blemish-free relationship résumé, but Tracy’s comments hit close to home. Nia had tried to be the perfect girlfriend in the past. Every time. The guys who’d told her how great she was in the beginning always said she was “too” something by the end.

Too serious. Too needy. Too inhibited. Too interested in sex.

Okay, so that last one did make her giggle. She hadn’t run away after that breakup, Steven had done the running. The fact remained—she’d been “too” something for the relationship to go the distance.

She sighed and crossed the polished floor of the lobby, waving at the front desk employees on her way to the hotel’s attached, upscale restaurant. The shift manager on duty at the moment sent her an inquisitive glance as she passed.

“Forgot something in my desk last night.” Excuse provided and accepted, she ducked through the mostly empty dining room and into her office.

She pulled out her cell and brought up Sara’s number. Calling her sister to talk about her relationship insecurities…maybe not. Yes, Sara had reached out to her, been supportive, even. But that had been on Sara’s time and terms. It hadn’t meant they were BFFs again.

Nia scrolled through the contacts and came up empty. She hadn’t made any close friends since relocating to this area. Her working hours ate up most evenings and weekends, and she hadn’t done much to explore the city or meet new people—male or female.

That’s where she’d start. Not by lamenting about falling for another man who should have stayed off-limits—by cultivating something new. Something that wouldn’t make her want to stick a for-sale sign on the lawn if and when the guy told her she was “too” this, that or the other thing. She needed a date.

* * * * *

The sun had long since set by the time Conn pulled out of the jobsite parking lot and headed for home. He’d been racking up the overtime on the old rug factory conversion. The client had already scheduled a load of hype for the opening of what would be a cool, multi-level dance club, and the guy was breathing down the contractor’s neck daily to get the place done. Being a finish carpenter made Conn one of the last men on site. And that meant the bulk of the pressure to complete on schedule landed on his shoulders—and ate up a whole lot of extra hours. Great for the bank account, not so good for trying to develop a relationship with Nia.

He wasn’t the only one who’d been busy. She’d also been MIA lately. He’d only seen her in passing. Casual waves or couple of sentences exchanged the few times their paths crossed in the driveway. Conn didn’t know exactly what a restaurant manager’s position entailed, but the place Nia worked was one of the classiest in the tri-cities, so he assumed she must be pretty damn good at her job. Being responsible for a busy restaurant had to be exhausting at times.

Those were the excuses he’d come up with for the lack of significant contact the past couple weeks. Better than dwelling on the unhappy expression on Nia’s face when he dropped her at the restaurant. Or the fact that she’d faked a text to end their first official date. Shit. He needed to catch up with her soon. Deal with the fallout from Tracy’s bullshit commentary.

Maybe tonight. If Nia’s car was in the driveway, he’d go straight to her door, take her out for a late dinner. One of the things he’d learned about Nia while at her parents’ house—she didn’t cook often. She’d worked fulltime in restaurants since graduating college. She ate so many of her meals at work, she’d fallen out of the habit of cooking. And she especially hated cooking for one.

They could be sharing meals—and a lot more—on a regular basis if things hadn’t gotten fucked-up. First Tracy had unloaded her anti-Conn crap. Then his workload had gone crazy.

Forget about two steps forward, one step back. One step forward, ten steps back. That’s how it seemed at the moment. Dinner or no, he had to see her.

It hadn’t snowed all week, but several inches had come down since his lunch break. He turned onto their street. The snowplow had created a ridge of snow along the side of the road. He’d curse the white stuff except it gave him an opportunity to be Nia’s hero by clearing the mess.

Only somebody had beaten him to it. A guy. The one currently leaning Nia’s shovel against the side of her house.

Conn steamrolled through the bank blocking his side of the driveway. He hit the brakes and practically leapt from the truck. “Hey.” Best greeting this guy was going to get from him. “I usually take care of that for Nia.”

“Guess I beat you to it this time.” Fighting words, no doubt about it. The guy headed for Nia’s front porch. He didn’t knock, just pulled open the storm door as if he’d done it a dozen times. He issued Conn a victorious smile, then disappeared inside Nia’s house.

What the fuck? Conn yanked the hat from his head so the heat roaring up the back of his neck could escape. The guy had “date” written all over him, from his black overcoat to his tweaked-just-right hair.

Three things saved the damn weasel from meeting Conn’s twitching fists right now. One—the guy had used the front door. Nia always went around back, so clearly this guy was new and clueless. Two—he hadn’t put the shovel away. Nia never left anything out or hanging around. Again, he didn’t know her very well. And three—Nia. She stood in that tiny front dining room she hated, off to one side of the old, plate-glass window. Unmoving, she watched Conn stare at her house.

If she had a hot date, she wouldn’t give a shit. She’d be wrapped in that guy’s arms or pressed up against a wall with his tongue down her throat. That’s how it’d be if Conn was her date.

But the what-the-fuck question remained. And he damn well planned to get the answer.

* * * * *

Shit. She’d totally missed whatever Aaron had said, and it wasn’t the first time. Since Nia had already apologized and asked him to repeat himself more times than socially acceptable on a first date, she nodded and smiled, crossing her fingers she hadn’t just agreed to something she’d regret. Like going back to his place for a drink. Or worse, sex.

Not that Aaron wasn’t attractive. He absolutely was. Not overly tall, but he had a couple of inches on her, even with her heels. He had a trim build, sandy-brown hair so immaculately styled it could be on a poster at a salon, and he dressed to impress. Clearly, he could carry on a conversation—even the one-sided variety. He worked for a restaurant supplies wholesaler, so he had a clue about the hospitality industry. They both preferred rosé wine over white or red, and Aaron shared her disdain for shellfish. If she’d paid attention beyond the appetizer, she might have found they had more things in common. They
should
be a good match.

So what if it wasn’t insta-love, and she didn’t get tingly when he touched her hand or smiled at her? Maybe that was a good thing. Nothing wrong with easing into things. Though if her heart rate dropped too many more points, she might be comatose before the check arrived. Poor Aaron. She should have left his card in her desk.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

He smiled, signaled for their server and pulled a credit card from his wallet. “I suggested we skip dessert this time around.”

Shit, she
had
agreed to go home with him. Now her pulse was on the rise—and not from excitement.

“Nia.” Aaron’s hand covered her hand where it clutched a table napkin inside a white-knuckled fist. “You know I’m interested in going out with you—I told you that when I gave you my card at the convention. Now I’m telling you to hang on to it. Call me when you’re free and clear of whoever you’re trying to shake.”

“There’s nobody, really.”

“Well that can’t be right. Because if you haven’t been thinking about somebody else all evening, I must be the most boring man on earth, and I know for a fact that’s not the case.”

For the first time since Aaron had set foot on her doorstep, Nia’s smile came naturally. She even sensed the teensiest hint of a spark. Maybe she would call him again. Not tomorrow or next week, but soon.

How long could it take to get over the man she’d specifically decided not to fall for?

Chapter Twelve

Conn’s eyes protested each second he stayed awake. Ten-hour days on the jobsite followed by several hours a night working on sideline projects took a toll on the energy level. Add tonight’s snow-shoveling efforts to the mix and he was beat. Couldn’t hit the hay yet though. He wanted this table done ASAP. And he sure as hell wasn’t crashing until Nia got home.

From a damn date. Still hadn’t wrapped his head around that one. Aside from the five minutes of Tracy crap, they’d had a great time the day they went skating. They always had a great time together. Walking, talking, playing cards with her folks, getting naked and sweaty. They clicked. Nia felt it too, Conn was sure of it. So why was she out with another guy?

Zeus’ deep
woof
coincided with heavy hammering from upstairs. Time for things to get interesting.

Conn tossed the sandpaper aside and took the basement stairs two at a time. The impatient pounding continued as he moved through the living room. After the initial bark, Zeus had bolted for the front door. The dog now stood staring at it, tongue hanging out of his mouth, his tail wagging like a happy flag. Maybe Conn should get a flag to wave before he opened the door. A white one.

He flipped the deadbolt as a third round of knocking started. Nia had bypassed the storm door in favor of pummeling the interior one, and stumbled into the front hall when he pulled it open.

A deep blush colored her cheeks. Her narrowed eyes zeroed in on his face. Her arms were stiff at her sides, a mitten-covered fist at the end of each one.

Oh, he knew smiling would get him in more trouble. Couldn’t be helped. Angry Nia was goddamn adorable.

He moved closer, craned his neck to look out the window of the storm door. No strange car. No guy with a cocky attitude and stupid hair. “Where’s your date?”

She huffed. “He left.”

“Good.”

Another huff, this one more exasperated than the first. She lifted an arm and stabbed it toward the door. “You
piled
two feet of snow at the end of the driveway. What the hell is that about?”

“You know the answer to that.”

She crossed her arms. “To prevent Aaron from parking in my driveway, obviously.”

“No, sweetheart.” One step had her backed against the wall. “To prevent Aaron’s anything from any and all inward motion.”

“Why?”

“You know that answer too.” A small tug and her scarf fell to the floor. He swept her hair aside and made himself at home nuzzling her skin. “
I’m
the one who’ll shovel your driveway.” He pressed his lips against the column of her neck. “Take you to dinner.” He moved higher, kissed the sensitive spot beneath her ear that made her shudder. “Then I’ll bring you home and make you come all night long.”

Her breath hitched and her hands landed on his waist. “Conn…”

“Only me.” He pushed the coat from her shoulders. Yanked her shirt from inside her jeans and slid his palm underneath the silky material. Upward, over her stomach, then higher. He pulled the lacy bra to one side and cupped her breast, groaning when she snuck her hand down the front of his jeans and wrapped it around his cock. “Say it. One word and I’ll give you anything you want, everything you need.”

She curled her free arm around his neck and pulled him down. Her lips were as soft and sweet as he remembered, with a hunger that matched his.

To hell with words. He scooped her legs off the floor, wrapped them around his waist and carried her up the stairs to his room. He pinned her to the bed with his hips. Devoured her mouth while he rocked against her. The way she moved beneath him, tilting to meet his thrusts as if they were naked and fucking—the sexy moaning into his mouth…

“Not yet, baby.” He almost laughed at her desperate attempt to hold him in place. He kissed her once more before sliding down her body—taking her jeans and panties with him in the process. “I need to taste you. Make you come with my tongue.”

She opened wider, sighing and arching her back when his lips sealed over her clit. Yeah, that’d do in place of talking. He shifted, looped her knees over his shoulders so he could get closer. Because it’d been too long since he’d had his face between her legs. Way too fucking long.

Her scent filled his head. Her taste, an intoxicating combination of spicy and sweet, made him hard to the point of pain. Any technique or finesse he’d previously had went up in flames. He licked and sucked like the starving man he was. Groaned and growled and humped the mattress. And thank fucking god, it worked.

Nia grabbed his head, held him where she wanted him. Her hips bucked off the bed. Somehow, he forced his eyes open to watch. So beautiful. Lips parted, chest heaving, eyelids squeezed shut, softly moaning his name as she came. On his mouth. All his.

He kicked off his pants. Got a condom on at superhuman speed. Then he was above her, kissing lips he’d never in one lifetime get enough of. “Only me fucking you.” He breathed the words between the smacking of mouths and clashing of tongues. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

He cupped her hips, pushed inside. Buried himself all the way to his soul. He tried to hold himself there, savor the perfect fit, the tightness, but he couldn’t. The need to possess her won out. Her mouth with his mouth. Her delicate, willing body with his mass and strength.

He pulled out, filled her again. And again. Deeper, moving them up the bed with each thrust. An inferno licked at the base of his cock. He wanted to come. But he needed her to come with him. Needed to see it and feel it more than he needed to breathe.

“Ride me,” he said, rolling on to his back without missing a beat. “Use my body. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

She pushed his t-shirt up to his armpits, ran her palms all over his chest and abdomen. She looked him over—all of him, from his average-Joe haircut to the place where their bodies joined—as if he was the best thing she’d ever laid eyes on.