Down With Cupid Shorts Bundle (12 page)

“
The Nicole Harrison
?” She’d heard everything, but he couldn’t tell how she felt about it. She had on her publicist expression.

“It’s how people said your name when I asked around about you.”

She met his gaze and worry creased her brow. “Is that how you dealt with the football player?”

“It was.”

She swallowed. “You never told me the rest of that story.”

This was it. This was the moment to tell her exactly the kind of man she was looking at. Not just the one he needed her to see, but the real him. All of him. Wanting, needing her to see him in that way scared him.

“Six months later I still couldn’t sleep. I knew what I’d done was wrong. I took him on as a client. No charge. I did my best to rebuild what I had torn down.” He told her the man’s name.

Her features softened. “He’s quite famous now. Powerful too. You fixed what you could out of guilt.” She hesitated. “And is that what you were feeling, just now? Guilty?”

“No.” He started to close the distance and stopped himself.

Nicole wished fervently he’d reach for her already and not stand so close without touching her. She needed him to touch her. Never had someone come to her defense with such ruthless precision. She should have been perturbed at Sebastian, but Nicole was still pissed Anna had called her
the help.
Even on her best day she could have never gone for the jugular like that.

And if at heart that’s who Sebastian really was, he would have done the same to her. After what she’d said to him. Oh. God. It was worse than what Anna had spoken, by far. She’d accused him of sleeping with her to get a stake in Limelight. Sebastian didn’t need to do that and never had. He’d wanted her. All of her.

She nodded and stepped forward. Still, Nicole didn’t touch him. She looked down, letting go of the need to hide her soft side. “The answer is every day.”

“What?”

She blew out a breath and took another step. “I thought about you every day.”

He gasped, low. “Look at me and say it.”

She laughed and met his gaze. “Since the day I left the hotel, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t stopped wanting you to touch me, kiss me, talk to me. I’ve wanted to be that woman I was with you.”

Sebastian leaned down, resting his head on hers. “I should know, because I haven’t been able to stop wanting all that either. With you.”

She scoffed. “You defanged Anna for me. I kind of got that you liked me.”

“I did, but for us. We need her capital to start our own business. And I couldn’t have her talking like that about my lover and treating her that way either.”

“Your lover?” Her heart fluttered and the ache went away.

“If you’re fine with that label?”

She lifted her chin, and his lips brushed against hers. “I am.” She smiled. “And that means we’ll have to have a lot of make-up Valentine’s Day sex.”

“Oh, my
Darling Nikki
,” he said, grinning.

Nicole laughed at the wicked reference, and then kissed him, like she had that first time. It took her a moment to remember the question she’d wanted to ask him. “Wait. What contact did you show her?”

“Really, you want to know this right now as we’re making up?” He chuckled when he looked at her expression. “Of course you do.”

Sebastian muttered something about loving it, but then he showed her. The blood whooshed from her head, and Nicole almost passed out. “You know I can’t share that one with you,” he said.

“You know this means war, right?”

He grinned, pulled her up to his lips. “Bring it on.”

End of Down With Cupid

Talk Nerdy to Me

Talk Nerdy to Me Published by Melissa Blue

Copyright 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [email protected]

Cover Art by Melissa Blue

Self-Published Edition 2012

“There are only two things one can do after a nasty break up: One, get so drunk you see four of everything. Two, sleep with the first man that smiles at you to reaffirm you are in fact a catch.”

~A Samantha Black Wisdom

A wisdom Samantha Black had every intention of following. Except her well-meaning friends refused to let her drink herself into a stupor. Unfortunately, the only man within a five-mile radius had the same genetic make-up. The only option left was to lie and say she felt fine, ditch them and find the nearest bar.

She could feel guilty later about that. Her ex was like a sour taste in her mouth only a cold, yeast-filled beer could do away with. Or anything fifty percent proof and up. Her ex had the tendency, on a really bad day, to make it worse. And love, in any way shape or form, was a risk. One that didn’t pay off this time.

So, it was like she had tunnel vision. She left work, headed to McGee’s, got out of her car and finally something inside Samantha loosened when the smell of tobacco, stale peanuts and beer wafted up to her. The familiar, weathered door warmed beneath her hand. A smile spread across her face until her gaze clashed with one man. Probably the only other man who could rain on her parade.

Yes, the day could, in fact, get worse.

Pride propelled her forward. She couldn’t turn back around; she’d been spotted. With a lift of her chin, she made her way to the bar. Sam was a grown up. She could reside in the same bar as Evan the IT Geek. Being in the same space as Evan didn’t mean she had to drink with him. No, Evan wasn’t the bastard who left her, on Valentine’s Day no less, but the one who found it entertaining to annoy her on a daily basis.

The truth was his face was the last she wanted to see period, whether in a drunken stupor or not. God, she could almost hear him asking, in that deep baritone of his, if she’d tried to turn the computer off and then on. Who in this day in age didn’t do that first?

It didn’t stop there. The endless questions, the almost condescending chiding when updates made her computer practically implode. And the snotty e-mails advising her to not Reply All on the latest Internet meme sitting in her inbox. Before she sent it. So, she made sure to only forward them to him.

Their relationship consisted of glittery graphics, God loves you and subtly patronizing exchanges. The icing on the cake: Evan looking completely exasperated as he tried to squeeze into her cubicle to fix whatever program she happened to break. Emphatically, yes, the day could, in fact, get worse.

The bartender nodded his head at her as if he could read what she need on her face. “Scotch on the rocks.”

She nodded her consent at the choice. Didn’t matter now. The hairs along Sam’s arm stood up like they always did whenever he was within breathing distance. Sam sighed before saying, “Hi, Evan.”

“ Sam.” He smiled at her, more of a smirk really. Thick brown locks of his hair fell over his forehead, stopping just short of black-rimmed glasses. Hazel eyes smoldered behind the the glass frames.

She held her breath, telling herself it had everything to do with staunching the dislike. You know, ’cause she’d just broke up with her three month-long boyfriend. She couldn’t be attracted to uber-geek Evan. Despite these thoughts, she noticed the way his eyes softened when the bartender placed her order down.

“Since I never see you in here I’m going to guess you’ve had a rough week.”

She snorted. “You care?”

Something passed behind his gaze again. Something she refused to read into. “I don’t kick people when they’re down.” He slid onto the bar stool next to her, and the words left her speechless. “You look down. You look like you want the bartender to leave the bottle in front of you.” He nodded to the bartender. “Leave the bottle.” He placed a fifty on the counter. “Since I’m nice at least once a year I’ll help you forget your troubles.”

Okay, was he hitting on her?
No
. Sam glanced down into the cup. Thank God. She hadn’t lost any inhibitions yet.

“I would say thanks, but I think this kindness comes with a price tag.”

He gave her another one of his smirks and filled her glass to the rim. “Drink up. You can worry about that later.”

Figuring he’d just agreed to pay the tab for the night, Sam couldn’t agree more.

*****

Sam blinked into her third glass. One should never drink on a stomach full of bar peanuts. And, beer goggles was a cliché term for a reason. ’Cause around the same third glass Evan had stopped looking like a geek. All the condescending, subtle snideness she contributed to his tone of voice had fallen away. His hazel eyes shone with a secret joke only he knew. By the same third glass she wanted him to share that joke.

“Sooo,” she slurred. Yeah, the beer goggles made her feel loose, sexy, uninhibited. She knew it was the Jack in the glass, but at this point she didn’t care.

There was the shine again, and that sultry smirk. “Yessss?”

“I told you about the break up. The time I fell off my bike and got this scar.” She lifted the gauzy skirt to show him her knee.

The scar zigzagged from the top of her knee to her shin. He touched it with his forefinger, traced the scar up to the tip. Sam’s breath hitched. She wasn’t sex starved. That was the only good thing between Sam and her ex. They had sex all the time. It was the only thing they agreed on, but that had ended more than a few weeks ago. The beginning of the end.

And, yet this touch…she made a humming noise. His wide palm rested on her thigh a moment, and then he pulled down the soft material of the skirt. In that moment she wanted him to touch her again like that. To let his fingers caress her inner thigh until any thoughts she managed to hold onto drifted away, drowned out by the sensation. But this was Evan, the uber-geek. The same man who got irritated when she left her computer on during the night.

She blew out a breath, staunching the irrational thoughts. “And I know nothing about you other than you work in the IT department.”

He leaned against the counter, poured himself another glass. His cup held more ice than the last time she saw it. “I graduated from Fresno State with a Masters. History.” He paused, turned a swift, but hot gaze on her. “It was a passion.”

Just like the moment his hand rested on her thigh she wished for more of the same. He cleared his throat, spoke again, “Couldn’t find a job though so I went to a vocational college for computer engineering. Graduated and started to work for our company.”

She jerked her head no. “Those are facts. I’ve given you scintillating details. Have you ever gotten your heart broken?” Sam blurted out before she could stop herself.

Without the liquor she would have known it was the wrong thing to ask. When he straightened away from the counter, his reaction confirmed it. She mentally kicked herself. No matter how she felt about him a couple hours ago, he’d listened to her whine about a relationship that didn’t last long enough for her to be heartbroken over. But the main thing is he listened.

“Yes.” He lifted his glass and stared at what was left.

“I didn’t mean—”

The smirk came back. “I’ve been enamored with you for a year.” He nodded, confirmed the timing in his head. “Watching you, you ignoring me, my heart’s been plenty broken. For a man my age it’s a little pathetic, but I can’t—” He shook his head. “Yes, it has.”

He saluted Sam with his glass and finished the drink. The bottle sat empty between them. She yearned for another drink after his announcement, but had hit the point where if she had another glass someone would have to carry her home. She lifted the cup and sucked on an ice cube to get her brain to work properly. How do you reply to something like that? Before this night she hadn’t thought twice about Evan in that way. Now…yeah, she liked him.

Maybe even started to
like him, like him
He was funny, smart. Did she mention he had a wicked sense of humor? Her true weakness. Ok. Ok. Maybe more than twice she’d thought of him that way, because it was hard to not note how he smelled while they were stuck in a sardine-can-sized cubicle. The small space would fill with something akin to…man and musk. The type of scent filled with pheromones that made her think of mating and kissing and other things she shouldn’t let cross her mind. But then he’d ask something like, “Did you just close your eyes and jam the flash drive into the general area of the USB port?” And the moment would be gone.

Her eyes strayed to him. He was staring at the bottom of his glass like an oracle lay in the amber colored ice. “Um.” The best she could come up with while her brain soaked in scotch.

The smirk spread into a smile. “It’s okay.” He nodded to the bartender. “Just cups of ice.”

He turned to her, but the secret joke had left his eyes. “I hear a good way to sober up is to move. Let’s dance.”

“Ah, um.”

He took her glass and then her hand. She couldn’t even hear music, but who was she to question? Sam knew she shouldn’t have felt obligated to dance with him. Callous, but she hadn’t asked him to be enamored with her, least of all tell her how he felt. What type of person used words like enamored? A

person who studied history. A person who thought smirks could come off as smiles. His hands encircled her waist. Maybe just him.

And did losing one’s inhibitions always feel this good, though? She wanted to throw her head back and let out a big laugh. Or just snuggle closer to the warmth of him and fall asleep in his arms. She silently prayed it was the liquor and not him making her think like this.

Because Sam didn’t know, she sighed, moved closer to him. He stopped in the middle of the floor, in front of the small stereo. When did that thing get there?

He cupped her cheeks, lifting her face to his. A wry smile twisted his lips. “How many of me are you seeing?”

She chuckled despite the turmoil knotting her stomach. “Didn’t know you had a twin.”