Wild Lover Complete Series (4 page)

             
“Will it hurt?”
              “I’ll be so gentle. And you tell me if it’s too much.”

             
He spread her legs further. She was amazed at how he looked at her pussy, like it was a painting, a masterpiece he was going to finish tonight. He returned to licking her clit, and his fingers resumed their gentle probing. She felt that soft pressure again, and his thumb slid into that last, forbidden entry. Faster and faster, and just a bit deeper.

             
She gasped. It all seemed to fit together, his hands and tongue and the most sensitive spots in her body. She groaned, and came like a tidal wave. She almost lost control of her bladder.

             
“Oh, oh.” She whimpered into the sofa cushions. “Oh.”

             
“Oh?” he asked. “Is
oh
a good thing?” He kissed the end of her nose.

             
She smiled at him. “
Oh
is a very good thing.” He rested his head on her heaving chest. She kissed the top of his head. “Thank you. But what about you? It doesn’t seem fair.”

             
She squeezed her. “Are you kidding? Being the first to touch you there, and getting that reaction? That was worth at least half a dozen of my own orgasms.”

             
She tilted his chin toward her face. “Really? I’ve never known a man could enjoy my body like that.”

             
His face was sweetly serious. He ran a hand along her cheek. “Then you’ve never known a man.”

*

Blaine woke up the next morning with Mia Tennyson resting in his arms. They’d fallen asleep on the couch. Normally Blaine slept lightly, but he hadn’t moved all night, even when his arm went numb. The tingling had finally woken him. He gently eased his arm from under her head. She rolled toward him with the traces of a smile on her full lips. He vaguely remembered grabbing a tee shirt for her before they fell asleep, and it just so happened that the chocolate color complemented her hair and her dark lashes. He took in her peaceful face. She wrapped her arms around his chest, and he wondered at her trust. It seemed she knew he’d be there even if she didn’t open her eyes for hours.

The thought unnerved him. He shook the blood back into his stiff arm and scooted off the couch. He tiptoed across the room, stark naked, and found a pair of gym shorts on top of the dryer. As he pulled them over his rear end she called out from over his shoulder, “Don’t cover that bum,
gov’na.”

He smiled, but the nerves didn’t dissipate. Why was he so anxious? He’d been obsessed with getting her over to his house, and impressing her with his cooking and
his self control. He’d managed all that, and if he remembered, taken her to heights of never-before-achieved bliss. Why not just enjoy it?

“Good morning,” he said, in a voice that he hoped sounded nonchalant. His phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, so he answered it. Blaine answered far more unfamiliar numbers than ones he knew. He booked a charter for the next morning and ended the call.

Mia was staring at her own phone with a furrowed brow.
              “Everything okay?” he asked.

She looked up and flashed him a smile, but something told him it was too quick. “Yes, of course. Everything okay with you?”

“Great,” he said. “You want some coffee?”
              “Sure.” She walked toward him. The tee shirt was like the world’s shortest mini skirt. It barely covered anything. God, she was beautiful.

She sat on a stool at the counter. “What’s on your agenda today?”

“Not much,” he said.

“I was thinking of going for a run out at the county park. Do you run?”

“Yeah.”
Tell her you want to go with her
, he thought, but nothing came out.

“I love running. It’s such a release, and I haven’t found anything that tones my whole body better. I might train for the Miami Marathon. Have you run any races?” She smiled at him, and the welcoming curiosity on her face both tugged at him and repelled him.

“Hard to train for that kind of stuff, being on a boat all the time.”

Silence fell.
Shit, this is what happens when you start shutting down. Don’t fuck this up.
His phone rang again. He silenced it.

“Are you going to answer it?” she asked.

“No. Not important.”

She bit her lip. “Do you want me to leave?”
              “No!” Blaine said. “No!” Part of him screamed,
yes!
He squashed that mental voice like a shoe flattening a bug. “I’m sorry…I’m just—”

She stood. His tan bare feet blended in with his wood floors. “I’m trying to get to know you. But you answer me in monosyllables. It’s like you can’t speak unless we’re talking about me.”

“I’m sorry.” She was right, and he didn’t have any defense. He glanced at the lit up screen on his phone.

“Why don’t you answer it?” she asked.

“Because it’s not important.”

She covered her eyes with one hand. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?” she asked.

“Uh—yes. Of course.” He led her to the bathroom, fished around in the drawers, and came up with a new toothbrush in a shiny wrapper. “Top of the line,” he said.

The corners of her mouth twitched in a smile. She gently pushed him out of the bathroom and shut the door. He returned to the kitchen and sat at the table. She’d
left her phone on the table. It lit up, drawing his eye like a raven to a shiny coin.
Jeff.
Three texts and a missed call.

Jeff.
That was the boyfriend. The moron who’d dumped her via text. Unless it took multiple texts to dump someone, it appeared he was back on the scene.

*

Mia brushed her teeth with a vengeance. She’d been on cloud nine in those first moments of consciousness, with Blaine’s arms around her. Now she wondered if she should grab her stuff and high tail it out of his presence once again.
              She rinsed out her mouth and gripped the sides of the sink. No doubt about it, Blaine was evasive. Last night she’d thought he was trying to appear interested in her by asking so many questions and deflecting talk about himself, but she couldn’t deny it anymore after his chilly morning reception. She reviewed what she knew about him: he’s from somewhere in England, he’s thirty-six, and he charters fishing boats. Oh, and he lived in someone else’s multimillion dollar condo.

Scenarios started swirling through her brain. He was married. He was a drug dealer. He was in the witness protection program. He was a transgendered man, and his birth name was Jennifer.

Okay, get a grip,
she told herself.
I doubt any surgeon could create a penis implant like that one.

The thought sent her giggling into her hand.
Control, Mia! Hysterics aren’t going to help.

She counted the times she’d seen him ignore his phone and came up with at least three. The more she thought about it, the more the “married” scenario made sense. Her heart sunk into her stomach.

Mia glared at herself in the mirror.
Okay, Mia. He’s probably got a wife and kids at home. So what if he makes you laugh, and is smart and conscientious and a great cook and the best lover of your life. You’re going to walk out here. Get your stuff and go.

She opened the door. Blaine was watching it, as if he was waiting on a game show host to announce what was behind door number one.

“Your boyfriend called.”

Mia gulped. She’d wanted to wait and read Jeff’s text messages when she got home. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt last night’s bliss by reading a “let’s get together so I can return your clothes” message. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore, remember?”

“What did he say?”

For some reason Blaine’s prying into her personal life irked her, especially given his own elusiveness. “I didn’t read it. Or listen to the voice mail.”

Blaine held her phone out. She took it from him. “Check it.”

She put both hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me? You’re like double-o seven, all man of mystery, and you want me to tell you who I’m communicating with?”

He ran both hands through his hair. “You’re right. You’re—listen, Mia, I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is. I really, really like you. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time.”

Mia breathed a sigh of relief. She put her arms around his neck. “What’s the matter, if that’s the case?” He ran his hands over her body, naked under his tee shirt. He cupped her bottom in both hands, and then slid up to her breasts. She leaned into his fingers.

He let go. “The problem—the problem… I’m not staying in town much longer.”

She backed away. “What do you mean? Didn’t you say you’ve only been here a few weeks?”

He nodded. “I never stay in one place for very long. I’m thinking of heading to St. John. Better chartering there.”

“You—you knew this? And you seduced me anyway?”

“I didn’t seduce you!” He seemed to realize that was a somewhat ridiculous statement. “I fell for you. In about two hours of being in your presence. Even with you crying and sick. It’s—it’s ridiculous. I’ve never met anyone like you. How you’re so simultaneously sweet and sassy. Innocent and wise. Like a little girl and a wise old woman in the body of a goddess.”

His words took her breath away. She put her hands on his chest. “Then why are you leaving? You don’t
have
to leave.”

He nodded and stepped away, as if her hands burnt his bare chest. “Yes. I do. This isn’t part of my plan.”

“Plan?” She felt as if she might cry. “In case you didn’t notice, I think you’re pretty amazing, too, when you’re being open with me. Which seems to happen mostly when we’re making love.”

He turned away, and he put her arms around his waist. She was sure if she kept reaching for him he’d stop moving away. “But not always. I’ve never had someone treat me as kindly as you did on the boat, when I was sick.” She pressed her face into his back. “You can’t make these things part of a plan.”

He eased her around and kissed her forehead. “I’ve gotten where I am today because I’ve always had a plan.”

“Where are you today?” she asked.

He spoke slowly, as if the words tasted bad, but he couldn’t spit them out. “I’m getting ready to leave for St. John. In a week.”

Mia gathered her belongings and said goodbye to Blaine Daniels again. This time, however, instead of angry and embarrassed, she felt sad down to her bones.

*

Mia called her mom on the way back to her apartment. She couldn’t face going home yet. She asked Mama Maria to meet her at their favorite bakery, Sweet Stuff. She didn’t have the slightest appetite, but maybe a scone would cheer her up.

Maria was already sitting at a tiny table with two chocolate chip scones and two lattes when Mia arrived. She sank into the chair across from her mother. Maria took her hand.

“Sweetheart,” Maria said. “You’re too thin. Worrying about that Jeff isn’t worth wasting away to nothing. You’re half Cuban! Curves are our bread and butter.” She giggled in a high,
tee-hee-hee!

“I know, Mama,” Mia said. “You’re right. Worrying about men is so not worth it.” She didn’t bring up Blaine. It was too complicated. Let her mother think it was all Jeff. Hard to imagine as it was, Mia felt more loss after two days with Blaine than she had over two years with Jeff.

“Has he called?”

Mia nodded. “I haven’t listened to his message.” She pulled out her phone and pressed Jeff’s voicemail, but all she heard was some breathing before the message ended. Not surprising. Jeff preferred to communicate via text whenever possible.
Obviously, haha,
she thought.

She read his message.
Can we talk? I’ve been thinking a lot.
And then,
whenever you have some time
, and then,
I miss you, Mi-mi.

She showed the messages to her mother, who pursed her lips and said, “Delete.”

Mia shrugged. It was too much to think about. “We’ll see.”

“
Meeee-a!” Maria said, as she had when Mia was a little girl. Maria could stretch her daughter’s name out for a full minute when she wanted to.

“I know, Mama, I know. I might want to hear him out. We spent two years together.”
              “After two years, he should know he wants you. You’re father, he knew he wanted me forever after two weeks.”
             
What about two days?
Mia thought.

Maria took a bite of her scone. “Didn’t you go down to Bartlett’s Marina the other day?”

Mia nodded. “The fishing disaster.”

“Did you see anyone interesting down there?”

Mia had met the most interesting person of her life down there, but she shook her head. “No, why?”

“Theresa Chavez told me that her daughter—you know, Juana?”

Mia swallowed a scowl. She couldn’t stand Juana Chavez. They’d gone to high school together, and sometimes Mia ran into her out in dance clubs on her girls’ nights out. Juana had gigantic fake boobs and gigantic fake lips and she didn’t own an item of clothing that could be worn in an office or church. “What about her?”