Locked Out of Love (24 page)

She gave him a sly look and took his hand in hers to lead him up the stairs to his bedroom.

She gently closed the door with a soft
click
. She leaned back against the wood and took her fill of Joel's body.

“How do you stay so fit if you sit in front of a computer all day?” she asked, genuinely perplexed. If that were her job, she'd be as big as a house.

She pushed off from the door and circled him, wanting to take in all angles of his body.

Joel didn't move, simply tracked her with his eyes. “Yoga,” he answered with a cheeky grin.

Melanie found herself smiling back at him.

She continued to circle him, letting one hand reach out and trace along his skin. His muscles flexed beneath her finger and she watched with rapt attention as his abs contracted, his back, his biceps. On her second go around, she dropped her hand to the waistband of his sweats, proudly displaying that V shape. She gave a few experimental tugs, but she'd have to stop completely if she wanted to undress him properly. She wasn't ready to give up the hunt, circling her prey. It stoked the flame within her hotter, and she could see a similar effect on Joel. His eyes watched her every move. Her caresses made his eyes dilate. He licked his lips as if preparing for a meal and Melanie's sex throbbed at the action.

“Need some help?” His voice came out husky. He gestured to his sweats.

“Yes.” Her voice was just as throaty, and when he went to shove them down in one swoop she placed her hand on his forearm. “Slowly,” she told him and watched as the fire in his eyes danced.

Her breasts ached, her whole body hyperaware of him. She wanted to jump him right then.

Not yet.

Joel did as he was asked, making a show of losing his sweats and loving every minute of it. So was she.

When he stood naked before her, she granted herself one taste. Their lips crashed together, sparks flying.

Melanie had a faint recollection of moving. Her back hit a wall, her rump dropped on the edge of a desk or dresser of some sort. A crash. Her skirt lifted. A tear of fabric. Joel's hot body between her legs.

Her mind reeled. She arched toward him, her body aching. When he slid inside they both groaned. Her legs tightened around his waist, her arms clamped around his neck.

“Don't ever leave me,” Joel breathed against her neck. His voice so low she wasn't even sure if she'd heard right.

She opened her mouth to ask when he began to move within her.

Pleasure streaked through her. Her head fell back against the wall. Joel lifted her off the desk/dresser.

“Not yet.” Melanie shot her arm out to keep herself in place. Another crash as something fell to the floor.

Joel didn't seem to notice. Instead he pulled her to the very edge of the wood.

Her thoughts scattered to the wind as Joel thrust deep within her, over and over until she was poised right at the sexual edge. She dug her nails into him. His mouth fused to hers, tongues tangling.

Her world burst apart, her muscles contracting as she came.

She nearly bowed off the woodwork. Joel rode her through it, pumping into her again and again until he found his own release.

“I'm going to need to up my home insurance or something,” he said after a few moments, surveying the damage littered on his floor.

When Melanie finally got control of her limbs, she leaned over to stare at the broken picture frame, books, figurines, and a plastic bowl that spilled all sorts of computer parts and tools everywhere. “I didn't realize I was such an expensive date.”

Joel chuckled and buried his face into the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, his whole body relaxing as he exhaled.

Melanie ran her fingers through his hair. “Are you okay?” Now that she wasn't in a lust clouded frenzy, she could recall the almost desperate way Joel had made love, as if frightened to lose her.

“I am now,” Joel mumbled against her skin. He pressed light kisses all along her neck and she moaned. She shifted against him only to notice that she still wore her clothing.

She stared down at them in bewilderment. “Why am I still dressed?”

Joel laughed. “I don't know. Let's remedy that, shall we?”

He picked her up and brought her to the bed, gently laying her down. He towered over her and gave her a devilish grin as he slowly pulled her skirt from her body. Melanie felt an odd flash of embarrassment as she lay there half-naked before Joel, which didn't make any sense considering he was naked as the day he was born. In an attempt to get rid of the awkward sensation, she threw her shirt off. It didn't help. She went to unlatch her bra only to have Joel stop her.

“What's the hurry?”

Her cheeks heated. He leaned over her and effectively turned her on with how slowly he removed her bra. First he fingered the straps, letting his fingertips trace along her skin before guiding the material up and over her shoulders. Once they couldn't go any further down her arms, he moved his hands back to her chest, tracing the edge of the lacy cups and following the fabric around to the back where he impressively opened the clasp in under five seconds. A record, she was sure.

He pulled the clothing from her body slowly, like someone unwrapping a gift and wanting to savor it. When she was completely bare to him, he threw her bra to the floor and took her in.

Melanie had always been self-conscious of her breasts. They'd developed way before high school, and all the other kids used to make fun of her ample chest. When she reached a grade where large boobs were coveted, she was the target of everyone's jealousy. She'd never liked them; they got in the way, and they drew too much attention. But right then, she didn't mind so much. She didn't mind at all.

Nor did she mind when he flopped down next to her on the bed and began tracing them with his fingers, lazily drawing circles and other miscellaneous shapes.

She turned on her side to face him, her fingers seeking the scars on his forearms. “Do you remember how you got each one?” she asked.

“To be honest, I got so many of them at the same time that I've forgotten what caused what.”

She yawned as the events of the evening started to take their toll. “Tell me what you remember,” she said, her eyelids starting to droop. She heard Joel's soft chuckle, felt the brush of his fingertips along her skin, and as she drifted to sleep, he told her about his time with his father, working on the car.

Joel called into work the next day to tell his IT department he'd be working from home because he‘d caught a bug and didn't want to spread it around. He probably could have thought up a better lie, said he was hurting from the car accident, but no one ever asked questions. They knew he'd get his work done whether at the office or home, and working from home gave him ample opportunity to make sure Melanie was taken care of.

He flipped another pancake and waited for the smell of fresh-cooked breakfast to work its magic and wake Melanie from upstairs. It was going on eight o'clock and he had no idea if she had work that morning or not. She didn't mention it during dinner last night before everything went to hell in a hand basket.

“That smells amazing.”

He glanced up and found Melanie dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, standing at the edge of the table.

His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth for a good minute. The hem of his shirt flirted with the middle of her thigh, bringing with it memories of last night and what he'd been doing between those thighs. His cock stiffened. He gave himself a small shake and regretfully pulled his eyes away. “I made plenty, eat up.”

She took a seat at the table, and he tried not to think about how the hem of his shirt would be riding up those legs, barely covering her. If he leaned over slightly he could probably see—

“Joel?”

He jumped. “Hmm?”

“You're burning the breakfast.”

“Shit.” He hastily dumped the blackened pancake into the sink and turned on the microwave fan before the stench triggered the fire alarm.

Too late.

The blare of the alarm sounded and Melanie clapped her hands over her ears, a grin spread across her face.

Joel grumbled to himself as he snagged a chair. He hopped up and pulled the battery from the alarm. The beeping stopped immediately.

“Sorry,” Melanie said. “I didn't mean to distract you. I can leave and come back in something more appropriate if you like.”

“Don't you dare,” he growled. He finished with breakfast and took the seat opposite her. “Look, I'm sorry if yesterday I came off a little … needy.” He hated saying the word, but after Felix planted the seed of doubt, he felt off kilter.

He'd been wrong about Sydney being the one for him, and after her deceit for three months he was a little sensitive. He could admit that, and now that he'd found Melanie … well, he didn't want to be wrong about Melanie. And he didn't mean Mirror Mate wrong—he knew she was his Mirror Mate—but that didn't mean she was perfect for him in every way. He was afraid of being wrong about her personality, who she was.

One deceitful woman he could deal with because Sydney's circumstances were extenuating, but two women? He'd be dubbed the worst judge of character for all time. Not to mention it'd only solidify his streak for jumping into situations without looking first. Was he an idiot to offer so much to Melanie—his friends, his resources, his bed?—before really knowing her?

Melanie put her fork down and reached across the table for him. His heart quivered in his chest at the contact. “I understand that you were scared yesterday. I was, too, and it's only natural to assume I'd turn tail and run after that fiasco, but I'm not going anywhere.” He relaxed. “In fact,” she continued, “I am wondering if I could perhaps get closer to Niella.”

He started. “Niella?”

“Yeah.” Melanie shrugged. “She's like Nathan, so perhaps I could try helping her. You said she was getting worse, right?”

Joel didn't know why he suddenly felt the needed to keep his mouth shut about Niella.

This is all Felix's doing.

“She's … doing okay,” he yielded.

“Well, Nathan is doing better, so maybe if she had someone to talk to, she'd feel more hopeful.”

Joel couldn't fault her logic, but there was one problem. “Niella isn't exactly the talkative type.”

“Neither was I if you recall. I know myself, which means I'll know how to approach her. It can't be that bad.”

Oh, it was going to be bad all right.

• • •

“You want me to do what?” Niella asked, arms crossed, a very pissed expression on her face. Joel scanned the lobby of the clinic to make sure no one had come out of the patient rooms at Niella's outburst.

“Keep your voice down. It's not like I'm asking for a million dollars.”

“You'd be better off asking for a million dollars.”

Joel chose to ignore her. “Melanie wants to get to know you better. She wants to get involved with the guild.”

“By talking to me?” Niella's gave him a flat stare. “She feels sorry for me and wants to act as a therapist. No thank you.”

She rolled out from behind the reception desk, conversation closed.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Joel grabbed both sides of her wheelchair to keep her from escaping and from running over his toes. She'd done that before. “I'm not being entirely truthful here. I want you to entertain Melanie because I want you to do some information gathering for me.”

Niella arched one perfectly sculpted brow. “You want me to
spy
on her?”

Joel winced. “Not spy—” At her expression, he sighed. “Fine, I need you to spy. But it's not what you think,” he added hastily.

Niella crossed her arms. “By all means, please tell me, what I am thinking? I didn't know you developed telepathy.”

Joel ground his teeth. Why the hell did Niella have to make everything so damn difficult?

He reached for patience. “Okay, it's not that I don't trust her, it's just … ”

Niella's face softened. She uncrossed her arms. “You can tell me.”

Joel let go of her chair and paced a few feet before rubbing his hand along his jaw. “Felix put this idea in my head that maybe Melanie might not be so innocent when it comes to these new suit guys we've been seeing.”

Her hazel eyes widened.

Joel pressed on. “I don't believe him,” he said sternly. “Melanie would never do that to me, but I have been known to leap without looking, and the thoughts are there, and when she asked to hang out with you … I just thought this might be a good opportunity—”

“To prove Felix wrong?” she supplied gently.

Joel pushed both hands through his hair. “I'm being paranoid, aren't I?”

A dog and its owner came out of one of the patient rooms, and Joel hung back while Niella took care of payment and setting up a follow-up appointment. Once the door closed behind them, she wheeled herself out from behind the desk. “I don't think Felix would accuse Melanie of anything if he wasn't genuinely concerned.” She held up her hand to halt his protests. “That doesn't mean I'm siding with him. I'll do what you ask, but I can't say how long I'm going to last. If she starts trying to psychoanalyze me,” she snapped her fingers, “It's over.”

“Deal. Thank you so much, Ell—”

“You owe me.”

He nodded. “Of course, whatever you need.”

“I'm not talking about fixing my computer. I'm serious.” Her eyes bore into his and a strange sensation crept up his spine. “I'm going to ask you for something and I expect no hesitation, no questions asked. Got it? That's my request.”

Joel swallowed thickly. “Deal.”

“Good.” She looked away, the serious glint in her eye gone. “So when do I have to endure this farce?”

He pulled out his phone. “She was really hoping for tomorrow night. She has to work a double today.”