Sweet Spot (Plaything #2) - Tess Oliver

S W EET S POT Plaything #2

TESS OLIVER

C o nte nts Plaything Series Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 In a Bind More from Tess Oliver Brothers Sneak Peek Chapter 1

SWEET SPOT Copyright© 2017 by Tess Oliver

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Sweet Spot is Book #2 in Tess Oliver's new, insanely hot, 'Plaything' series. If you enjoy quick, super sexy escapes with irresistible alpha males this series is for you!

Don’t miss Book 1 - Easy Come - now available

Chapter One M A CY

I carefully placed the last pastry into the box and closed the lid. The sun was just

coming up, but I still needed to hurry to get my bakery kiosk open so the aroma of coffee and strawberry pastry could waft along the sidewalks before people headed to work. My phone rang before I could pick up the boxes. Mom. It was early even by her standards, a woman who never slept late. A spark of worry struck me as I answered it. "Mom, is Dad all right?" "Why wouldn't he be all right? Although, he did have terrible heartburn last night. I warned him to go easy on the salsa." "Mom." I stopped her before she went through an entire narration of their evening and Dad's upset stomach. "I've got to get going. Why are you calling so early?" "I wanted to catch you before you left for your little bakery stand," she said it in a way that made me feel like a little girl starting a lemonade stand on the front lawn. Which I had, and I'd made a fortune because I also sold chocolate chip cookies that I made myself. That was how my knack and love for baking got started. "My little stand," I repeated in the same Mommy sing song tone she'd used, "has already earned me enough to pay half my bills, and it's only the first week. Of course, that's gross," I added quickly, as if net would be similar. Which it wouldn't, since overhead costs were high. "That's nice, Macy. Your dad and I are very proud of how quickly you bounced back from—well, from the disappointment you suffered." Her voice wavered again. "Mom, please don't. Do you need something? If I don't hit the road right now, I'll run into traffic." "Oh, I hate how much you have to work and drive and do everything on your own. If only Trevor hadn't made such a silly mistake." "Mom, a silly mistake is forgetting to put the milk back in the refrigerator. The groom-to-be sleeping with one of the bride-to-be's bridesmaids is a major fuck up." She feigned shock at my language, but she'd said far worse about Trevor after

the silly mistake. "Macy, you know I hate it when you talk like that." "I was hoping it might bring a quick end to this conversation. If the only goal of this call was to remind me that I got jilted by my fiancé, mission accomplished. I've got to go." "Wait, that wasn't the reason for my call. I'll be brief. I was at the store, and I ran into your future mother-in-law." "Ex-mother-in-law," I said sharply. I was regretting answering the phone. "Right, of course. She really is a lovely woman. Oh, and she had a new Cartier diamond watch. Must have cost a fortune." Next came the disappointed sigh as my mom thought about how nice it would have been for her daughter to marry a rich man. "She says Trevor is still very broken up about the whole thing." "Trevor is broken up about it? Holy shit, Mom. Next time, just walk past the woman and her diamond watch." "Macy, lots of men do regrettable things at their bachelor parties." My mom never purposefully lied, but she did have a genuine knack for changing past events to make them fit more to her liking. "Mom, it was the rehearsal dinner. And Rebecca wasn't some stripper hopping out of a cake at a stag party. She was my best friend in high school." In the midst of the rehearsal dinner my ex future in laws had arranged at an embarrassingly high end restaurant, both the groom and my bridesmaid had disappeared for what seemed an inordinate amount of time for a restroom visit. My sister, Teresa, and I decided to go look for them. We found them together, screwing away in one of the posh bathroom stalls in the ladies' restroom. The truly ironic thing about it, other than the obvious, was that Trevor and I had dated for four years and during that long stretch of time, he had insisted that we save ourselves for marriage. We had never gone farther than kissing and heavy petting. It should have been a red flag for me, but I'd gone along with it, figuring it was nice not to have to worry about birth control. And so, I'd saved myself for marriage, like a dutiful girlfriend, thinking there would be some grand explosion of passion once we tied the knot. Only, in the meantime, it turned out Trevor was dealing with a terrible sex addiction. In his dramatic attempt at apologizing, he'd spilled his heart out to me, insisting that he was getting help for his problem. He claimed that he had insisted we remain celibate because he wanted to be cured. He didn't want to scare me away. That was his excuse. Now he had scared me away for good, and I was relieved to be rid of him. "Macy, maybe you should talk to him. I mean, think of everything you've given up." "I haven't given up anything, Mom. I've gained. I've gained freedom, independence and if I think about it, a good dose of happiness. I was so young when I started dating Trevor, and I got caught up in his world. Yes, it would have been nice to open my own bakery, like the one he was buying for me, but the kiosk is working just fine. So, Mom, try and be happy for me. And please don't bring up Trevor again. Now, if I don't get on the road, I will miss the morning rush."

"All right, Macy. Drive safely and have a good day." "Thanks, Mom. Love you. And tell Dad to go easy on the salsa." I hung up, grabbed my keys and the pastries and headed out the door.

Chapter Two CHA SE

" W hat the fuck, Chase, I thought you were coming back to the office after lunch.

We need to talk about the final copy on the website," Zane snarled through the phone. "I'll be back soon. Besides, I'm working. Sheila and Nina are testing out the body paints we're putting in the Color Me Hot box. So, I'm two naked women deep in some major product testing." I leaned back in the chair in my bedroom and, while holding the phone to my ear, I tilted my head to get a better view of Nina's ass. Sheila had painted a fairly impressive picture of a butterfly on it, with a blue and yellow wing on each cheek. Sheila leaned back to admire her handiwork. Nina wiggled her ass to give the butterfly some animation. Both girls fell on the bed laughing. A sight and sound that made my cock stand straight up. "I'm giving these body paints two thumbs up, along with one raging woody." "Well, I need your input so get finished with the art session, Da Vinci, and get your ass back to work and to my office, preferably without the raging woody." He hung up. I got up and walked to the bed. Body paint was smeared all over the sheet Nina had thrown over the bed. She was the first to notice my erection. She came at it with a paint brush. "Let me put a happy face on that," she giggled. "Think you already have. Twice," I added. "But I've got to head back to work." Sheila got up on her knees. Nina had painted a long arrow that pointed down to her pussy. "No, we're having too much fun." "I guess you both deserve a little payment for testing out the paints. First one to the shower gets my deluxe paint washing, oral sex combo package." Nina squealed as she shoved Sheila out of her way. She dashed to the bathroom leaving a trail of blue and yellow paint in her wake. Sheila decided to use second place to her advantage. Before I could stop her, her fingers wrapped around my cock. She licked her lips as she winked up at me. "No sense in letting this go to waste." I sighed in surrender. "You're right. That would be completely senseless."

Chapter Three M A CY

M y coffee and pastry cart, aptly named Sweet Spot, had had a long line all

morning. I was exhausted, and my trays were nearly empty. All in all, another successful day. Since my cart sold mostly breakfast and late morning snack items, I was able to close up at noon. That gave me the remainder of my day to bake for the next morning. It was an exhausting work day, but I loved every minute of it. I'd rented the kiosk from the city. They had decided to provide vendors with food stands in the center of the city square, a crowded plaza that was surrounded by tall office buildings and high dollar apartments. It was an ideal location. There was always plenty of foot traffic. My cart stood between a smoothie stand and a hot dog vendor. The Smoothie Guy, as the stand was named, was run by Chuck, a man in his mid fifties who wore a long ponytail and sandals. The Dawg, where you could get a foot long hot dog topped with every darn condiment known to man, was run by George. He had a heavy southern accent and always wore the same white t-shirt and cargo shorts. They were great, entertaining neighbors, who, I discovered on the first day, were also in a romantic relationship. Chuck walked over to my cart as I began to pack up for the day. He was carrying a paper cup. "Macy, try this sample. It's got pineapple in it so I can't give it to George because his lips will swell up like balloons. I'm thinking of calling it Paradise, to go with a Hawaiian theme. I sipped it. "Hmm, yes, Paradise works. You should top it with a pretty umbrella." Chuck's attention had been diverted to something behind me. "Speaking of pretty." He looked over at George and motioned with his head. "Here comes Mr. Beautiful. Looks like he's just gotten done with an important lunch meeting." I turned and followed Chuck's line of sight. Mr. Beautiful, as Chuck and George had nicknamed him, was a rich, young man who lived in the penthouse of the building adjacent to the city plaza. I had to give it to my neighbors, they knew beautiful when they saw it. Aside from jet black hair and green eyes that stood out like precious stones, he was tall and well built with one of those easy, confident strides that made it seem like he was just gliding over the ground. I'd only been in

the kiosk for a week, but I had yet to see the man leave or enter the building without a woman on his arm. Today, it seemed, he'd decided two was better than one. The woman on his left, who was having a hard time walking in her strappy heels, pointed in the direction of Sweet Spot. The man seemed reluctant at first, but eventually, the three of them walked toward my cart. "Ooh, looks like you're going to get your first close up," Chuck muttered through the side of his mouth. "He's a real nice guy too. I've talked to him a few times. I'm curious to know what you think." With that, Chuck headed back to his smoothie stand, his sandals slapping the brick pavers with each step. He made a point of nodding a hello at the trio. They stopped in front of my cart. The woman who had pointed out Sweet Spot twisted her lips in disappointment as she eyed the mostly empty trays. "How on earth do you make any money when you don't have anything to sell?" Mr. Beautiful pushed his sunglasses up on his head, revealing those jewel toned eyes. Chuck was right. There just wasn't any other word to use than beautiful. "I'd say she sold out of everything already." He smiled at me. "What happened to Yolanda?" "Yolanda?" "She used to run this stand. Only she sold muffins and these weird donut-like things." I shrugged. "I was on the waiting list, and this was the kiosk that came available. So I guess Yolanda and her weird donut-things have moved on." He stared at me longer than necessary, long enough for me to discretely flick my finger across my nose in case I had a pastry crumb stuck to it. Something certainly had his attention. Thankfully, the woman on his right broke the awkward scrutiny session. "Do you have something that's sugar free, fat free and gluten free?" the woman asked. She was one of those model thin people with long legs and perfectly shaped lips. I surveyed the remaining bakery treats left on my trays, as if I was actually searching them for her everything free pastry. I smiled up at her. "I've got water and black coffee." The other woman laughed loud enough to startle the pigeons perched on the telephone lines. The second woman was shorter and with plenty of curves. She had sparkling blue eyes that seemed to be made extra bright by colored contact lenses. "Nina, why don't you just draw in a deep breath. That's gluten free and sugar free." She stuck out a long polished nail. "I'll have that last cheese pastry and a water." I grabbed the pastry and a bottle of water for the woman. Mr. Beautiful took out his wallet. "Let's go, Nina, do you want something or not? I've got to get back to the office." Nina blew an angry puff from her perfect lips. "That's some thanks I get for trying out those body paints." She shifted her skin tight jeans around a bit, as if

there was any free space between the denim and her body. "I think that blue paint is still in my—" She stopped and looked at me, seemingly just remembering I was standing there. "I'll have a coffee." I walked to the coffee pot. There was just enough for one more cup. "Could you add some of that hazelnut syrup?" she asked. "Oh, and a squirt of whipped cream." "So much for sugar free and fat free," her friend quipped. "You're right," Nina said. "Why stop there. Might as well clog my gut with some gluten. I'll take this last strawberry tart." I finished assembling the coffee and pulled out the tart. I looked up at the man. He must have been six foot plus because I had to crane my neck. "Would you like anything?" "No, I think that'll do it." He tossed a fifty dollar bill next to my cash register. I rang him up and reached in the cash drawer for change. "Keep it." He winked just before pulling his sunglasses back over his emerald eyes. Chuck and George walked over to join me as we watched the three of them stroll down the sidewalk to the parking structure. "That man should be walking down a runway, not the city sidewalk," Chuck practically hummed his words. He nudged me with his elbow. "What did you think? And you know he's filthy rich. He and three friends own the Plaything company." I turned toward Chuck with a raised brow. "Did you say Plaything? What the heck is Plaything?" George and Chuck laughed, and Chuck felt the need to follow up with a hug. "We need to get you back out on the dating scene, Macy. You've been off the market and out of the civilized world too long." This week, on a somewhat slow morning, I'd spilled my entire humiliating wedding story to Chuck and George. In general, they were great listeners, and I'd found they were much easier to talk to than my friends and, most especially, my mom. I'd gotten so much unwanted advice and analysis from my friends and family that it had made the entire fiasco that much harder to swallow. But Chuck and George had no preachy advice to offer. "Plaything is a fairly new company, but it's already worth a cool billion, or at least that's what the rumors say," George continued. "It's a monthly subscription service. You sign up and each month a creatively packaged box of sensual items shows up at your door." "Ah, well, I suppose I should have guessed." I held up the fifty dollar bill. "And that explains the extra big tip." "Whooee," George crowed, "I guess Chase had an extra good lunch break up in that penthouse of his." "Chase? Of course. It fits." I peered up at the high rise apartments adjacent to the plaza. "Do you think that top window is his?" "Far as we can tell," Chuck said. I glanced out toward the sidewalk. My last three customers of the day had disappeared around the corner. "He's nice to look at, I'll give you that. But he is not

my type. Besides, I've had rich, and frankly, I'm just not that impressed." "Sweetie," Chuck said, "how's that possible? That man is everyone's type."

Chapter Four CHA SE

I t was earlier than I'd been up in months, but I was determined to get my workout

routine in full swing, which meant an early morning run before the streets and sidewalks got too crowded. I walked to the window and pushed the button. The window shades lifted. The sun had barely poked through the thin clouds layered over the horizon. At least at this hour I'd beat the heat. As I pulled my gaze from the window, movement below in the city plaza caught my attention. It was the girl with the pastries and coffee. The early morning sun glinted off the dark pink sign on her kiosk. Sweet Spot. It was a great name for a bakery cart. I watched for a few minutes while she bustled around in her white shorts and blue t-shirt, filling her trays from boxes she'd carried to the stand. The day before, when she'd stared up at me with her big brown eyes, something about her expression struck me. Aside from the obvious, that she was extremely pretty, something else had caught my interest. I just couldn't put a finger on it. I finished tying on my running shoes and headed down to the lobby. As I stepped out into the cool morning air, an idea struck me. Sweet Spot would make a great title for a monthly theme. I walked across the plaza. Since she ran a coffee and breakfast cart, she was the first person out on the city square. Aside from an early morning group of hungry pigeons, huddled in a bright corner of the courtyard, waiting for crumbs, she was all alone. The woman was leaned over a box as I approached, and since, as my partner, Zane, liked to point out, I was a cocky ass when it came to women, I watched her. She straightened with a plate of pastries. She was a petite little thing, the kind you could pick up and swing into your arms without any effort at all. Suddenly, I found myself wanting to know what her laugh sounded like. Something told me it was the kind you would miss once it stopped. "Guess you're the early bird out here." I spoke too abruptly, and it startled her. She swung around and nearly pitched a few pastries off the plate. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that."

"No, that's fine. I'm just relieved to find out it wasn't the pigeons talking." I laughed. I couldn't think of any person in the world who could make me laugh this early in the morning, but she'd managed it. She continued working, lining up her delicious breakfast treats in a perfect array on the silver trays. She took the time to glance at my shoes. "Out for a run?" "That was my goal," I said. "Do you bake these yourself?" "Yes, I do. I'm a trained pastry chef." As she reached to the top of the trays, her t-shirt inched up a bit, exposing the curve of her slim waist. "Then I suppose my next question should be—how the heck can you be so tiny when you bake amazing treats every day?" "They only look amazing. They taste awful," she said in such a deadpan tone, it took me a second to realize she was joking. "Humor at dawn, a rare and admirable trait." She still hadn't stopped to look up at me, and I was working hard for it. I wanted to catch that expression I saw yesterday. I wanted to know what it was I’d seen that had me so captivated. Her small hands neatly arranged some colorful berry tarts. I decided on a new tactic. "I'm Chase England. I thought since we're sort of going to be neighbors, I should introduce myself." She stopped and peered up at me. I hadn't been imagining it. It was there. I just wasn't sure what it was yet. She worked up a sweet smile. "Macy Pennington. Nice to meet you, Mr. England." She went right back to her task. And I went right on with my conversation. "This is probably an unexpected question, especially at this hour, but is that name trademarked?" "Macy Pennington? Not that I know of, but then my mom can be a little obsessive about things, so who knows?" I found myself laughing again. She was quick witted, and I was finding myself more than a little intrigued. "Actually, I was asking about Sweet Spot." I had her attention. She had her long tawny hair tied back in a neat ponytail, but one strand of hair was too short for the band. It fell forward, curling across her face. She brushed it away. "It's just a name I came up with. The kiosk is so small compared to the shops on the street. I figured Spot was a good word to describe it." Her brow arched up in suspicion. "Why are you interested?" "Nothing sketchy, I promise. I'm part owner in a company called Plaything. We are a subscription service—" "Yes, Chuck and George told me about your company." "Chuck and George?" She pointed two directions with her thumbs. "My neighbors." She returned to her work and set about filling her coffee pots. "Right. Well, I can see that you're very busy, so I'll just head out on that run." I backed up a few steps and waited for her to look up again. But she didn't. I couldn't believe how fucking disappointed I was. Guess my usual dazzle and animal

magnetism just wasn't turned on today. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was what intrigued me about her. I'd met a woman who had zero interest in talking to me. Zane was right. I was spoiled when it came to women, which probably meant that his other favorite phrase, conceited jerk, fit me as well. I started toward the sidewalk and glanced back at her one more time. She stepped around to the front of the stand and leaned down into a box again. Instantly, I imagined her doing the same thing, only naked, preferably with my hands holding her hips and my cock pressed up against her fine ass. I shook away the image before it hindered my ability to run. My feet took off along the cement, and after a few steps, it hit me. It wasn't her obvious lack of interest in me, so much as my extreme interest in her. There was something else about her, but, hell, if I could figure out what it was.

Chapter Five M A CY

I 'd done a pretty good job of ignoring my unexpected early morning visitor, but

now that he was shirtless and covered with a sheen of sweat, it was going to be a bit harder. Chuck had just arrived to set up and I could hear him mutter something to himself as Chase came around the corner. How was it possible to be that spectacular after a run through the city at the crack of dawn? But still, he was so far from my type, I could easily talk myself into looking past the pretty packaging. Most likely there was nothing but vapor, arrogance and indifference filling that dreamy outer shell. It was still quite early, but my usual customers would be arriving in fifteen to twenty minutes. I'd only been in business a week, but I'd quickly developed a following, which had me more than just a little pleased with myself. As I waited for some of the first customers of the day, my first visitor of the day headed my direction. Chase scrubbed his wet face with his shirt and bunched it in his fist. He stopped in front of the kiosk. "Morning again," I said cheerily, trying hard not to get distracted by his breathtaking physique. "Can I get you something?" He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to change his mind. "Actually, I'll take a black coffee." I spun toward the cups and picked up the coffee pot. "I'm sorry if I irritated you this morning," he said. I turned and handed him the steaming coffee with a polite, shop owner's grin. "You didn't irritate me. Anything else?" "Just coffee." He reached for a pocket and looked slightly embarrassed. "Oh, I forgot I'm wearing my running shorts. I'll bring it to you on my way to work . . . if that's all right. I promise I'm good for it." I couldn't hold back a laugh, even though I gave it a good try. He pointed it out. "I knew your laugh was something worth waiting for. I know you're about to be swarmed with coffee drinkers and pastry lovers, but on my run, I came up with a plan for something, and I'm hoping you'll be part of it."

I couldn't for the life of me understand how I could be involved in any plan of his and thus, responded with a dumbfounded, wide-eyed look. "I want to use the name Sweet Spot on one of our boxes—unless you would rather we didn't." "As I mentioned this morning, it's not trademarked." "I know, but if you don't want us to use it, I'll give up the plan. But I think this idea could benefit your business." His green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. I was still dumbstruck about how I would be involved. I leaned my head slightly to look past his broad shoulders and overall hunkiness. Two of my morning regulars were hiking toward my cart with that desperate for coffee look I knew too well. Chase sensed that customers were heading my direction "I'll talk fast. You said you were a trained pastry chef. Do you also work with chocolate?" "I do." "Great. When I come back down, I'll leave you my number. I want to talk to you about making something chocolate for one of our monthly boxes. It would be a big order, but we are generous with our suppliers. We like to keep them happy." My customers reached the kiosk. By the time I took their order, Mr. Beautiful and his running shorts and magnificently naked upper torso had disappeared into the apartment building.

Chapter Six CHA SE

T rey was preoccupied with a text conversation, no doubt with his girlfriend

Georgie, and Zane was gobbling down a bowl of Chinese food. He'd given up on the chopsticks and had opted for a fork. Aidan walked into the meeting room. His main workplace was in the warehouse, which was two blocks from the office building, so we always spent a good amount of meeting time waiting for him. All of us were good-sized, which had helped when we were four smart-mouthed punks growing up together, but Aidan was head to toe massive. He was a handy friend to have around in a bar fight or when furniture needed to be moved. The chair creaked as he settled himself down for the meeting. "Make this fast, Chase. I've got a truck ready to leave the docks." "Yep, I'll be fast. Two minutes." Zane laughed. "Yeah, that's what most of the women say about you." "Funny. Anyhow, this morning I went on a run after talking to the hottest little coffee seller down in the plaza, and I came up with an idea." I hadn't even thought about describing Macy, but the words just came out naturally. "Let me guess," Zane interjected. "Your idea was to seduce the hot little coffee seller?" "Hey, comic, shut the fuck up so we can get done with this," Aidan barked before waving his hand to show that I had the floor again. "Her coffee cart is called Sweet Spot because she sells baked goods. I was thinking Sweet Spot would make a great name for a box. We could focus on the Gspot or some of the other erogenous zones." Trey's chair squeaked as he moved to stand up. "Sounds good. Don't know why you called an emergency meeting about it." "Wait," I stopped him. "I was thinking we could try something different this time, but I needed input from marketing." I pointed to Zane. "And the warehouse." I looked at Aidan. "What if we add in a chocolate or something edible to go with the name on the box? The coffee seller is a professionally trained pastry chef, and she also works with chocolate." "So, this is about you getting into the panties of the coffee girl?" Zane quipped.

"No—well maybe—she does have these amazing brown eyes and she has the fragrance of sugar floating around her. But I'm serious about this. What do you think?" "Would it work?" Trey asked Aidan. "I think so. They make special bubble wrap that acts as an insulator to keep things from melting." Zane sat forward. "Marketing would be a no-brainer. Everyone loves chocolate." Trey looked across the table at me. "We'll give it some thought." It was the answer I wanted to hear, and Trey, who had known me since we were in fourth grade together, figured that out fast. "Let me guess," he said, "you've already set up a meeting with the woman?" I glanced at my phone. "Expecting her any minute." Trey shook his head. "You're so damn predictable. Just don't make a deal with her and then fuck it all up by breaking her heart." "I don't break hearts. I cultivate them," I said as I walked out the door.

Chapter Seven CHA SE

D iane, one of our marketing geniuses, was sitting in my desk chair with her green platform shoes propped up on my desk. She didn't drop them to the ground, even after I looked pointedly at them. She was busy texting someone. I waited and hovered over my desk as she finished. "So what was the secret meeting about?" "Nothing secret. I just needed to run something by the guys. In fact, if you take your big eighties rock star shoes off my desk and clunk down the hall to Zane's office, he'll fill you in. I've got another meeting." "I know. That's why I came in here. I was going to let you know that there was a woman waiting to see you. Then I got a text message, so I sat down here with my phone." She clunked each big shoe to the floor and stood up. "She's not your usual type." "Who’s not?" "The woman you're waiting to meet with." She added an eye roll with her sarcastic pronunciation of the word meet. "Shit, everyone is just full of judgment in this fucking place today." Diane walked around the table and pinched my cheek. "I'm not judging. But she's still not your type." "Why not?" I asked, stupidly getting sucked into her baited trap. Her long finger pointed at me. "Ah ha, so I was right." "No, you're not right at all. I'm meeting her to discuss a business deal." "Oh, I see." She clomped out on her tall shoes. "And what's wrong with her? Why isn't she my type?" Obviously, I was still stuck on the end of her hook. Diane turned and shrugged. "We had a chat for a few minutes. She seems smart, savvy and just a little too pure for Chase England, that's all." "Why, thank you, Di. You're right. That's not the least bit judgy. Is she out in the waiting area?" "Yep." Diane walked out, and I could hear her silly shoes on the tile floor of the hallway long after she left.

I walked to my desk, digesting Diane's words with some anger and wondering if she was right. That was when it struck me. Too pure? It was a strange thing to say, and yet, it resonated with me. Maybe that was what I kept seeing when I looked at her. I pulled a breath mint from my desk drawer and shoved it in my mouth before heading out to the waiting area. Macy was standing in front of one of the four wide screen televisions in the waiting area watching, of all things, a cooking show. She heard my footsteps and turned toward me. Her tawny hair made her brown eyes look dark, like chocolate, and her skin had a sun-kissed glow to it. But it wasn’t one of those out of bottle tans. It was real, every golden inch of it. She had come straight from work, and she still had the fragrance of baked goods clinging to her clothes and skin. I briefly wondered what she might taste like. Deliciously sweet, no doubt. Damn, sometimes it seemed my friends and coworkers knew me better than I knew myself. I'd arranged the meeting with every intention of discussing the business deal, but it was hard to deny that I was attracted to her. She waved her arm around the cavernous room that had been decorated in colorful modern furniture and technology. "Impressive," she said. "But I guess it shouldn't have surprised me too much. I confess, I did a little research." "That's smart business." I led her toward the offices. "So, what did you think? Find anything of interest?" She pursed her lips in a shy smile. "Interesting is a good word." "But our product is not for you?" "I didn't say that. I just haven't ever seen anything quite like it." "We try to please a wide swath of people, so we include a lot of variety." "Yes, variety is another good word." She followed me into my office and sat in a chair across from my desk. I sat in my chair. "I just talked to my partners, and they like the idea." She dragged her eyes from the stunning view and looked at me. "I'm not sure I'm the right person for this job." "Why not? Significant other wouldn't approve?" Yep, I was fishing for information and doing a clumsy job of it. And my out of left field question baffled her. "Uh, no, I make my own decisions." That told me nothing. "So you make your own decisions because you're on your own, or you just don't let him tell you what to do?" She blinked at me in utter confusion. I couldn't blame her. I'd pretty much confused myself. "Who's him? There's no him. It's just me." I relaxed back, stunned at how relieved I was to find out there was no him. She shook her head as if to straighten out the convoluted conversation we'd wound ourselves into. "Mr. England—" she started, and I corrected her to call me Chase. "Right. Anyhow, I just don't have enough hours in the day to get my pastries ready for the cart and make chocolates for your company. I'm sure there

are plenty of candy makers who would be happy to take the job. Besides, I work out of my rental house. The kitchen is small. I'm just not equipped to take on a massive project." She reached into her pocket. "I've written down a few names and phone numbers of people you could call. I hope it helps." She placed the paper on my desk and stood up. I hopped up too, my mind was dashing around, trying to think of some convincing argument. "What if we sent some of our people to help you make the chocolates?" "I don't think so. I only just got the business started, and I can't risk it. It's all I have right now. Thank you very much for the offer." She headed to the door. "Have dinner with me," I blurted. Macy stopped. Her head dropped and her ponytail fell forward, exposing her long white neck. She looked back and flashed me a polite smile. "I don't think so." I hurried around the desk. I had no idea if her rejection was causing me to want this more than anything or if it was still that thing that I just couldn't put my finger on. All I knew was I didn't want her to leave without some reassurance that I'd see her again, other than standing inside her kiosk selling coffee to my neighbors. I circled around and stepped between her and the door. There was some irritation in her expression, but it was masked by a layer of hurt, something that I hadn't noticed before. Macy had gone through something recently, something ugly. That realization threw me off for a second. I had no idea why I could read this woman so well. I was never great at figuring out women's thoughts, except when it came to sex. Then I could read them like a book. But I was a fool when it came to understanding them emotionally. But it was different with Macy. Was I just paying more attention than usual? "Just dinner. How about it?" Macy shook her head. "You seem very nice, but I'll be honest, I was engaged to a man like you before." "You mean incredibly handsome and charming?" She couldn't hold back her smile. "Actually, Trevor was handsome but not compared to you. You're sort of the gold standard on handsome. What I meant was I've had a silver spoon man once before. He was rich and arrogant. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I've been hurt badly and I've grown a tough shell because of it." "Well, on the charge of being born with a silver spoon, I can contradict you. No silver spoon. More like one of those flimsy plastic sporks they give you in the school lunch. My dad raised my three brothers and me in a two bedroom house where we didn't dare cut the crusts off our sandwiches because that meant throwing away food and we had no food to spare." "I'm sorry," she sputtered, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I had no idea. It's just you purport yourself like someone who has been rich his whole life." "Do I? Nicest compliment I've had today. Other than the gold standard on handsome. That one was pretty sweet. The arrogant remark, not so much." "Sorry, that was poorly worded. My ex was arrogant, but I don't know you well

enough to call you that. And I apologize for assuming you'd been born with your wealth. People who have made a lot of money the honest way deserve huge credit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of baking to do for tomorrow." Trey came out of his office as I stood in the hallway and watched her leave. "Is that the chocolate maker?" he asked. "She's not interested. But she gave me some contacts." "And you're watching her like a love struck puppy because . . ." I looked at him. There was no need to lie to him because he always knew what I was thinking. I clapped him on the shoulder. "Because, my friend, I'm feeling like a fucking love struck puppy." Trey's laughed boomed through the hallway. "What the hell? You don't think I'm capable of falling in love?" "I think you fall in love every damn day with a different woman. And, on a good day, two women." "Fuck off, Armstrong." Trey stopped laughing. "Shit, you're actually pissed." "Fuck yeah, I am. You're a relationship snob now that you have Georgie." "A relationship snob?" "Yeah. And the woman who just walked around the corner is going to make me one too. Now if I could just get her to go out with me."

Chapter Eight M A CY

I was more than a little annoyed at myself for keeping a watchful eye on the

apartment building across the plaza. I assured myself that I wasn't waiting for Chase to emerge, but I knew that was a lie. When he'd asked me to have dinner with him, I had no choice except to turn him down, as hard as that was to do. The Trevor disaster was only three months old, and I just hadn't recovered enough. Even though the blame was all on Trevor's side, I still hadn't forgiven myself for being so ignorant and foolish. I was determined to make a go of things all on my own, with no one and, especially no man, to mess up my life. My business was moving along nicely. Slowly but surely, the sting of what had happened was healing. The last thing I needed was to walk into a hornet's nest again. Especially one that was so darn tempting. The morning rush had finally slowed. I turned to the back of the kiosk to refresh the coffee pots when I heard someone approach the counter. "I'll be right with you," I called over my shoulder. "No hurry." How was it possible that I already knew the sound of his voice? I turned around. The man wore a business suit like no one else. I had no doubt it was an expensive suit, but his physique made it look spectacular. "Hello," I pushed out an airy tone, but a few butterflies had crawled into my stomach. "What can I get you?" Chase's strong jaw slid back and forth in consideration as he perused the pastries. "I'll take the lemon pastry, a black coffee and one dinner date." I shook my head as I plucked the pastry from the tray. "You are persistent, I'll give you that." "You don't get far in life without persistence." Looking up at him was a huge mistake and caused the first crack in my resolve to not date him. He really did have one of those faces that could knock a woman senseless. "One dinner, and if you hate it, you just say—Chase, I hated this night, and I only hope that I can someday wipe it from my memory. Sort of a money back

guarantee. Then I promise to never ask again." I had to work to keep from smiling. It was hard. He was pretty damn charming. I turned to the coffee pots. "Do you like Italian?" he continued, unabated by my silence. "I know this great little restaurant with delicious pasta. Tonight? Say seven?" I handed him his coffee. Turning down those green eyes would be like turning down a free trip to Paris. "Fine. But not seven. Eight. It takes me until then to finish with my baking." I grabbed a napkin and picked up the pen I used for big orders. I scribbled down my address. He placed it in his pocket and took his pastry. "See you at eight."

Chapter Nine M A CY

I had just finished cleaning the kitchen when Chase texted to let me know he was

on his way. My preoccupation with my date, my first date with someone other than Trevor since high school, had caused me to over bake an entire tray of tarts. I'd had to start all over, and now I was running behind. It was a bad omen, I told myself as I dashed into the shower. In my rush to get ready, I managed to stub my toe and break a fingernail. It had been so long since I’d dressed to go out somewhere that all my dresses were in the back of the closet. I dug one out that didn't look too wrinkled and pulled it over my wet hair. I stared down at the green sleeveless dress. The bodice buttoned up the front and hung a little looser than I remembered. I'd worked for months to lose weight for my wedding dress, a struggle when you baked sweets for a living. Still, I'd managed to lose the stubborn ten pounds I wanted vanquished before my wedding day. But after the nightmarish rehearsal dinner and the humiliation, anger and heartbreak that followed, I’d lost another ten pounds. It seemed I'd inadvertently discovered a quick way to lose weight for your wedding. Catch the groom cheating on you. The hem on the dress was a bit shorter than I remembered, but I had no time to change. I pulled on sandals, hoping that the restaurant wasn't too fancy. I splashed on some mascara and combed my wet hair back into a ponytail. I finished up my hasty date preparation just as a car engine vibrated my small house. I went to the side window and peeked around the blinds. It was some sort of expensive sports car, the kind that was low and flat with a big spoiler on the back. I wasn't versed in fast cars, so I had no idea what brand or make. But the man who climbed out of the driver’s seat was definitely one of a kind. At least in appearance. I was convinced this night would go just as I expected, and he would, in some way, disappoint me with some selfish jerk move. But I had decided to give this a try and go into it open-minded. Maybe they weren't all jerks. Maybe. One thing was for sure, I wasn't going to let Trevor's betrayal ruin the rest of my life and my chance for future happiness. Chase knocked. I swung open the door. He'd pulled on a gray dress shirt, but

he'd left the top button open and the sleeves were rolled up to show off the ink on his forearms and the expensive watch on his wrist. I glanced down at my dress. "I hope this will do. The only fancy thing I own is a brand spanking new wedding dress. Still in the plastic and everything. But I decided white silk doesn't go well with spaghetti sauce." "Probably a good call." An awkward moment followed as he stood on the doorstep, and I blocked him from seeing into my tiny little house. "It smells good in there," he noted. "Thanks. Right. Well, come in and I'll give you the five second tour." I ushered him inside and thanked myself silently for vacuuming the night before. "Stand right there." I pointed to a spot in the middle of the front room. "I can give you the entire tour from this one place. You won't even have to take a step. "Kitchen, where I bake and occasionally eat a meal or two." I pointed to the hallway. "Bedroom and bathroom, which are both a mess. Hence, the reason why you are standing here. And my great room, otherwise known as my closet sized living room. That's it." He rubbed his chin. "I like it. It's cozy." "Thank you. I'll get my bag." I walked into my bedroom and returned with my purse and house keys. We walked out to the car. "Italian?" I asked. "Yes and the best breadsticks this side of the Atlantic." "Actually, I meant the car." He laughed. "Yes, that too. But no breadsticks." Chase opened the passenger side, and I suddenly realized just how impractical my short dress was for climbing into a low car. I dragged in my second leg and pulled at the hem, but the angle that the seat was set at kept my knees high. The hem inched back up. Chase tilted his head to the side. "See, that's why these cars cost so much money. They are designed specifically for short dresses." He shut the door. The warmth in my cheeks had barely cooled by the time he walked around and climbed inside. Chase was a first class flirt, and if I was honest with myself, I didn't mind. Trevor had shaken so much of my confidence, I needed a little something to bolster it back up. And attention from a man like Chase might be just the thing. The car was loud, but the inside was air tight. When the music turned on, the motor sounded more like a kitten's purr than a powerful engine. He pulled out onto the street. "So tell me about the brand spanking new wedding dress, and I sure as heck hope it has to do with spanking and not with you having to call off a wedding." "Nah, it's not a good story to start off with. Tell me about yourself. What do you do at Plaything?" "Me? I guess you could say I'm the face of the company." "Well, that explains the success."

"Thank you, but there's more to it than just this face. Or, at least that's what I keep telling Trey and Zane. I'm in charge of public relations, so there is a certain amount of charisma that goes along with the face." "Ah yes, of course. Good looks, charisma and only a smidgen of humility. But I guess you probably hear about your looks so often, it would be hard not to let it go to your head." Once we were on the freeway, Chase could take his hand off the shifter. He leaned back and draped his other hand over the steering wheel. "No, it really hasn't. Sometimes I feel like I have to keep up this cocky demeanor because everyone expects it of me, but I'm just a regular guy who wakes up with beard stubble, messy hair and morning breath just like everyone else. I stared over at him. "Since I'm now picturing you with beard stubble and messy hair—I'll leave the morning breath out—I'm finding your argument almost laughable. I can only assume that beard stubble on that jaw line and that shiny black hair mussed up looks nothing short of breathtaking.” "I'll take a different route then. Growing up, I had three brothers, each one bigger than me. I was the twerp of the family. When shit went south, like the time we tried to barbecue a pillow, I always ended up taking the blame. If I didn't, my brothers would give me noogies and purple nurples. My dad's punishments were much less painful." "And your mom?" "She died of cancer when I was six." The tone of his voice changed dramatically. "She was sick for a good portion of my time with her." "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, it seems your dad did a good job on his own." A laugh shot from his mouth. "He'd probably debate that point. At least he would have when we were growing up. But now, we've all done pretty well, so I think he's proud." "I'll bet. And how does barbecued pillow taste?" He shook his head once. "Can't tell you that. It went up in a toxic puff of smoke. Glowing feathers floated all over the yard, setting fire to a few of the dry bushes we had surrounding the yard. Almost lost the house. And, of course, my brothers had used my pillow, so I had to fold up a towel to sleep on." Chase pulled off the freeway and headed towards a long road leading up a hillside that was dotted with large houses. I gazed out the window, watching as the city lights fell away. It seemed like a strange location for a restaurant. It was even stranger when Chase pulled up to a large house sitting at the top of a hill. It was a beautiful house with a turret and stone work that made it almost castle like. Dark ivy snaked along much of the facade. It was a new house built to look genuinely old, and the architect had done an amazing job. "This is a house," I noted unnecessarily. "Yep. I bought it for my dad and his new wife. They are in Europe for the month." Chase parked at the top curve of a circular driveway.

"But you mentioned an Italian restaurant." "Right. The chef is a friend. He delivered the food earlier. We just have to heat it up." I sat still for a second after he opened the passenger door. "Are you mad? I thought it would be a nice, quiet place for a first date." "It's not what I was expecting." He lowered his hand for me to take. "I promise, Macy, I didn't bring you here to seduce you. Just dinner." I wasn't sure if his words gave me a sense of relief or profound disappointment. After all, maybe it was time for a little seduction in my life. After all the time I'd wasted with Trevor, thinking we were both saving ourselves for that big explosion of passion that waited for us on our honeymoon, it had turned out that I was doing all the saving. And Trevor had been doing a heck of a lot of spending. I needed to get past the invisible chastity belt Trevor had buckled on so long ago. I was embarrassed as hell about my inexperience, and just maybe it was time to lose that innocence. I placed my hand in his, and he helped me out of the car. Chase smiled down at me, his pleasant aftershave wafting to my nose as he leaned down and shut the door. Even in the shade of night, he was spectacular. And he oozed experience. I was sure he knew more about a woman's body than I knew myself. If it was time to climb out of the chaste hole I'd been pushed into, then I was happy to have Chase lend a hand.

Chapter Ten CHA SE

I led Macy into the house and gave her a quick tour of the downstairs. Veronica, my

dad's wife, the woman he met ten years ago when she rear-ended him as he drove out of the bank, had seen a flyer for the house and fell in love with it. She'd always wanted something old and historical, but since those were rare in this area, she decided a new house that looked old would do just fine. It had taken a good deal of argument to convince my dad to let me buy it for them, but with a lot of help from Veronica, he'd finally consented. It had felt unbelievably good to repay my dad, a man who had worked hard to raise us by himself. And as Macy had noted, he'd done a pretty good job. "As you can see, Veronica, my stepmom, has a thing for antiques." Macy's brown eyes swept the room. "I see that. Not sure how I feel about it. There's a lot of ornately carved wood in here. Sort of draws your eye in every direction." "Yeah, I prefer a little less decor. Simpler." "Spoken like a true bachelor." I combed my hair back with my fingers. "Guess that's true." I led Macy through the sitting room with its impractical, ornate furniture and out onto the terrace where Roland, the chef of the restaurant, had had someone set up a table that matched the white linen tablecloths, candles and place settings in his restaurant. "Oh wow," Macy sighed, "it's beautiful." I stayed back as she walked to the balcony, with its thick, carved balustrades. She was wearing a dress with a short hem and buttoned bodice that had given me a dozen different dirty ideas the second I saw her in it. The breeze floating across the balcony caused the flames on the candles to waver and the skirt on her dress to shift across the back of her thighs. I was going to have to work hard to extinguish and ignore the less than wholesome thoughts I had when I saw her in the dress. I planned to be on my best behavior, which probably wasn't a very high bar because even my best behavior wasn't all that great. The guys were right. I was incurable when it came to women. I loved them, everything about them, the way they

laughed, the way they walked, the way they felt in my arms. But this woman in particular had piqued my interest and not just because she was pretty and smart and funny. There was something else that I still couldn't pinpoint, but I was determined to find out. I walked to the table and opened the chilled bottle of wine Roland had left for us. I poured two glasses and carried them to the balcony to stand next to her. She took a sip. "Hmm, that's a good one. At least it's way better than my usual bargain basement wine." I laughed. "That's good to know." I couldn't help but stare at her perfect profile as she gazed out at the view and sipped her wine. "If there's one thing good money can buy, it's a spectacular view. I've never seen one like it." I turned and leaned against the balcony railing as she faced out. She was wearing a necklace with a tiny glittering opal pendant. The thin gold chain framed the hollow at the base of her throat, and I briefly imagined myself running my tongue along that hollow. "You said you'd had a silver spoon man before. Didn't he have views like this? If he didn't, he was missing out on watching you stand on a breezy balcony with the city lights glittering in your eyes. It's a pretty damn great view too." When she smiled, two lines creased the left side of her mouth. And it was worth making her smile just to see those two creases. "Well played," she quipped. "Bringing the wonderful view full circle to a compliment about my eyes. And, at the same time, sneaking in a little inquiry about my past." "Huh, I did all that? I sure as hell can be clever when I'm not really working at it." Macy took another drink of wine and focused back on the view. I remained focused on Macy. "Trevor and I dated for four years. He was my first and only real relationship." She shook her head. "Never mind, it's embarrassing. The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it gets." "Now you've got my full attention." She handed me her empty glass. I walked back to the table to fill it. It seemed I wasn't going to hear the story. We sat down and snacked on the basket of breadsticks Roland had left on the table. Macy spread butter on a piece and took a bite. She sat forward. "Yum. Delicious. Your chef friend is a master." She finished the breadstick and the second glass of wine as we talked about the collection of plants and garden sculptures Veronica had placed around the balcony. Then Macy grew quiet. She ran her fingers along the stem of the glass. "I caught him screwing my friend in the restaurant bathroom in the middle of our rehearsal dinner." She blurted the words fast, as if she just wanted to get them out there.

"He's an idiot." "That he is." She held her glass for me to fill. "I don't usually drink so much, but this wine is amazing." She fanned her hand in front of her face. "And I think I'm starting to feel the effects of me gulping the stuff like its water." Even after mentioning that she was feeling drunk, she took a few hearty sips. "Finding him in the bathroom stall with one of my bridesmaids wasn't even the embarrassing part. For four years, the man insisted that we wait for marriage. We were like two wellbehaved teenagers, never doing more than heavy kissing and a little of this and that. Even though there were times when I told him I wanted to have sex. But he insisted we wait. It will be extra special if we wait. Turns out, while I was waiting, he was having the time of his life satisfying what he claimed was a sex addiction. His excuse for it all was that he didn't want to scare me off. He thought if I knew what a ravenous appetite he had for sex, I wouldn't want to marry him. It's probably a good thing I found out about his insatiable carnal habits before we actually went through with it." She stopped to suck in a breath. "Wow, that just came out like bubbles in champagne. Guess the wine unpopped that cork good." She covered her mouth to stop the flow of words but then spoke through her fingers. "God, I sound like a pathetic, gullible nerd when I tell that story out loud." I waited for a moment, to see if she was finished and to absorb the major 'ah ha' moment I had as she spoke. The mystery was solved, that intriguing piece to the puzzle finally in place. And that led me to my next stupid, but, for me, completely predictable remark. "You're a virgin?" She laughed, but it sounded far more incredulous than filled with humor. "Out of that entire explosion of information about the worst moment in my life, the most important part you came out with was that I'm still a virgin." She placed her glass down and spoke again before I could offer an excuse, of which there was none. "I suppose you're looking at me like I'm some rare species of bird come back from extinction. Actually, that works. I'm a dodo bird, a fucking dodo bird, and I've had a lovely glass of wine on your very pretty balcony. But now I'd like to go home." Fortunately for me, the crazy high tech latch on the sliding doors to the balcony stopped her quest for a fast exit. She messed with the latch. "What the heck kind of door is this?" The slight waver in her voice made me want to kick myself. I walked over to her but stopped short of touching her. And that was not easy. But I'd made a mess of things, and the last thing I deserved was a reward for being an insensitive jackass. Macy spun to face me. A split second of something other than anger crossed her face, and I was sure I read something in her expression that said kiss me. But it passed quickly, and I convinced myself I'd been wrong. Macy was different. She wasn't overt and obvious with her flirting, something I wasn't used to, and it was throwing me off my game. Which might just have been a good thing. Aidan always loved telling me that I was never going to settle down with one woman until I found one who could knock me off my stride.

"Macy, that was stupid of me to ask. I know. You'll have to forgive me for being a typical asshole whose mind goes straight to sex in every topic. Especially when the words are coming out of lips that I've been dreaming about kissing all week. I love sex. Hell, I'm part owner of a business that sells products to enrich people's sex lives. But I'm not him. I'm not that idiot who messed up and who is no doubt kicking himself a hundred ways to hell right now because that sure as fuck is what I'd be doing if I lost a woman like you." Her expression softened and the starched set of her thin shoulders rounded as she relaxed. "You've been dreaming about kissing me?" It was my turn to laugh. "Out of that entire explosion of feelings, something that believe me is as rare as a fucking dodo bird for me, that's the most important part you came away with—that I've been dreaming about kissing you?" She blinked her big brown eyes at me. "Yes." "Good." I took hold of her arms and pulled her against me. My mouth pressed down over hers, and I kissed her.

Chapter Eleven M A CY

I t was instant. The heat. The slight case of delirium. The tell tale sensations in my

pussy. And it knocked me nearly senseless. Trevor had kissed me many times, but I'd never had such a spontaneous reaction. In fact, there were times when I'd hardly had any reaction at all. I'd told myself it was out of self-preservation because I knew with Trevor it would never go past the kiss. So I'd trained my body not to react. I'd held down my desire because it would only have led to an unsatisfactory ending each time. But now, in the glittery haze stirred up by Chase's kiss, I wondered if my body had never reacted to Trevor's kiss because it just wasn't worth reacting to. Chase lifted his mouth from mine. My lips trembled in loneliness. They wanted more. I wanted more. He lifted his hand to my face and pressed his palm against my cheek. "Even better than I dreamed of." He was a man who knew exactly what to say and at the exact right time. I, on the other hand, was utterly speechless as I catalogued, in my mind, every physical reaction I'd just experienced. Even my breasts and nipples ached from the kiss as if he'd kissed me there directly. "Holy shit." They were the first words that ushered from my tender lips. "I dodged a bullet." Chase straightened. "Uh, is that bad or good? I'm thinking bad." I shook my head with a smile. "It's good for you and for me. If I hadn't caught Trevor in the act, I might have gone through with the wedding. I might have been contractually tied to a man who I had no physical interest in. He'd kissed me a thousand times and I have never—" I felt a warm blush cover my cheeks. "Oh no, you don't get to stop there. I'll be up all night trying to fill in the blanks. You have never . . ." I wasn't bold enough to list the intimate reactions. "I'm just questioning my entire relationship with my ex. In fact, I'm questioning everything about my personal life for the last four years." Chase certainly didn't need any more notches in his bachelor's belt. I'd already confessed enough to him. He didn't need to know

how much he had aroused me with just his kiss. He probably could have guessed, anyhow, by the stars that were no doubt floating in my eyes. "I feel like I've been living in a cave . . . by myself. That jerk, I will never forgive him." Because Trevor had so badly damaged my sexual confidence with men, it took all my courage to reach up and press my hand against Chase's chest. It was hard and impressive beneath my palm. The muscles in his pecs tensed more as if my touch had caused a physical reaction. I lifted my hand away, but he reached up, took hold of my wrist and placed it there again. His chest rose and fell with a breath. The soft cotton of his shirt wasn't barrier enough, and I felt the heat of him against my palm. "Chase, could we try that again? That whole kissing thing. Could we do that—" My request was cut short by his mouth. This time, rather than just hold me, his hands explored my back. His palm smoothed over the cotton fabric of my dress and journeyed down toward my bottom. I found myself jutting my bottom out just a little more than was natural, in hopes that his hand would eventually brush over it. My wish was granted, and I found myself melting against him as his hand ran over my ass. His tongue danced intimately over my bottom lip as he bunched the fabric of my dress up in his fingers, lifting the hem high enough that I felt a breeze brush against my panties. That same breeze cooled the moisture that was quickly pooling between my legs. All this and he had done nothing more than bunch up the skirt of my dress a few inches. How the hell would I react if he'd swept that same dress up and over my head, slowly stripping me naked, right there on his dad's balcony? That erotic thought produced a mewling sound in my throat that I'd never heard before. It was a sound that made him groan in response. His kiss deepened. He released the fabric of my dress and pushed his hand beneath the hem. My knees turned to jelly as his hand swept over my panties and his fingers teased and tugged at the thin, silky fabric. My body trembled with the possibility of his fingers slipping beneath my panties and between my legs. Then with a sound that seemed a mix of lust and frustration, he dropped his hand and lifted his mouth from mine. The strain I saw in his face mirrored the way my entire body felt. I'd been turning to pure hot liquid in his arms, but his sudden retreat had frozen me solid. Had I done something wrong? I could only imagine how much the virgin thing would turn off a man with his experience. "I guess we should heat that dinner." For a guy who was always as cool and smooth as cream, his voice sounded tight and gritty. I wasn't sure how to decipher what had just happened. My own inexperience left me feeling confused and more than just a little disappointed. "Yes," I said with a weak smile. "Let's eat."

Chapter Twelve CHA SE

T he night air had cooled, which was good. Kissing Macy had started out as just

that, a kiss. But my cock had reacted instantly. Hell, every cell in my body had reacted instantly. A few times, I'd tried to convince myself it was the virgin thing. The notion of introducing someone as amazing as Macy to the joys of sex held more than just a little appeal. But it didn't take long for me to dismiss the virgin theory. As intriguing as that was, it was the woman herself who had me spinning. Her quick wit, the way she rubbed her finger across her bottom lip to wipe away spaghetti sauce, fuck, even the way she ate the spaghetti had me spinning. And that was why I'd stopped myself before I hit the point of no return, before I lost my mind entirely and took her right there on the balcony. She was slightly drunk, and she'd just told me that she'd gone through a four year relationship waiting and trying to imagine what sex was like. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off or ruin her expectations with a wild, crazy fuck on the balcony. Even though a wild, crazy fuck was exactly what I wanted. I needed to go slow and pace myself. I was going to do this right. If Macy was interested, I was going to introduce her to the world of pleasure. She put down her fork. "Delicious. Your chef friend is amazing.” She rubbed her bare arms. "It's getting cold, and I need to get back home and go to bed. I've got to be up in six hours." "But tomorrow is Saturday." "Yes, it's a slower day than the rest of the week, but I can't afford to shut down. Sunday is my day off. Although, I spend most of it doing paper work and testing recipes." "Testing recipes? Well, if you're in need of a taste tester, I'd like to offer my services." Her lips were still slightly swollen from my kisses and that made me pretty fucking pleased. "If you like, you can come by Sunday afternoon." She waved her hand. "What am I saying? A guy like you probably has a million things on his social calendar." "What time?" I asked.

Her eyes rounded and those same swollen lips fought to keep back a smile. "Four o'clock?" "I'll be there."

Chapter Thirteen M A CY

O f course, the last thing I needed at the start of my new business was to be

located out front of Chase's apartment complex. Yesterday, the work day had dragged on, mostly because I'd spent time between customers waiting to see Chase walk out of the building. If I'd had a tiny click counter in my hand to squeeze every time my gaze landed on the giant glass doors of the building, I would have moved the number five digits. And that was being conservative. But I'd been in the plaza, peddling my goods, for four hours, and I never saw him come outside. Naturally, my mind went right to the idea that he had gone on to a party or another date after he'd dropped me off at home. Then the wretched scenario of him walking out of the building with a woman, or even two, on his arm turned my disappointment at not seeing him into relief. After his kisses, which I could still feel on my lips, I'd had an impossible time getting him out of my head. It was as if Chase had turned on a switch, a switch that had been turned off for four years. Which brought me back to the conclusion that Chase was the last thing I needed right now. But I didn't have enough willpower against his charms to cut things off. I had never been one to shy away from something new and this was definitely new. The fragrance of almonds and brown sugar filled my small house. The oven timer rang. I clicked out of my spread sheets and closed my laptop. I walked to the oven and pulled out the tray of bear claws. After the breakup, Trevor had hinted at me giving back the very expensive engagement ring he'd bought me. It was a ring that I had always had mixed feelings about. There was no way not to admire the massive sparkling diamond in the middle of it, but big diamonds had never been my thing. Neither had impractical jewelry, and an oversized rock on the ring finger of a baker was highly impractical. I couldn't count the number of times I'd nearly lost the thing when I had taken it off to knead dough. Trevor knew I wasn't all that keen on wearing it. But when he had asked for it back, I flatly told him that I had earned the fucking thing. And then I promptly took it to a jewelry consignment store and sold it. I'd gotten enough for the stupid thing to buy myself a professional stove and convection oven. They were

far more practical than a sparkling diamond. I tried to ignore the fact that it was past four o'clock. It was silly to think that someone like Chase would have time on his weekend calendar to hang out in a tiny house sampling baked goods. Just as I pushed away the depressing image of Chase sitting in a swanky club with a girl on his lap and another at his side sipping expensive drinks and forgetting entirely about the girl in the linen apron leaned over a rolling pin and hot stove, a knock on the door startled me. The bear claw I'd been transferring to the cooling rack took a quick exit from the spatula and landed upside down on the wire rack. At least we had our tasting sample. I'd imagined myself streaked with flour, only to discover, as I looked at my reflection in the oven, that I actually had one streak across my cheek. I lifted the bottom edge of my apron and wiped it off and then remembered that I was wearing the darn apron, complete with buttery grease and strawberry stains. I untied it and dropped it on the hook in the kitchen. It had been a warm day outside, and my tiny house, with its professional, super powered oven, was hot, so I had dressed in shorts and a tank shirt. Shoes had never been my thing, especially when I baked. I pulled the band out of my hair, and it fell around my shoulders. I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't wearing a ponytail around Chase. It seemed that somehow during my years with Trevor, I'd forgotten how to be sexy. Thinking back, I was far better at flirting and acting sexy when I was in high school. God, was there anything in my life the man hadn't destroyed? Chase had just lifted his fist to knock again as I swung the door open. I was relieved to see him in shorts and a t-shirt. And he looked incredible no matter what he was wearing. He pointed behind him. "With the mouthwatering aroma circling your front yard, I'm surprised you don't have a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk trying to get a glimpse or a taste of the sweets inside." "Actually, you missed the crowd and the parade that followed, where they had me hoisted on a float made of bread dough that was shaped like a brioche." I motioned him in with my head. "You're in luck though. I just made a complete mess of a bear claw. So if you don't mind a less than pretty pastry, I can still guarantee the flavor." "I can look past the flaws." He followed me to the kitchen. I scooped the broken pastry onto a plate. "Milk?" "Naturally." I poured him a glass of milk and led him out to the front room. He sat on the couch, my shabby secondhand find, and looked comically spectacular in the middle of my very unspectacular apartment. I sat on my knees and faced him as he tasted the bear claw. "I tried a new ratio of butter, brown sugar and almond paste. I think they are moister now." Chase was even appealing when he ate. I was going to have to find some irksome habits and traits soon, or I was going to find myself irrevocably smitten. Actually, I

worried that that was already the case. "I assumed a guy who grew up the youngest of four brothers and one with no mom to correct bad habits at the table would eat like a slob. I've seen so many men gobble food like drunken medieval knights just back from a long war, licking their fingers, smacking their lips and barely taking a breath in between. But you savor each bite." "That's because each bite is worth savoring. But catch me after a long day of rock climbing with a double cheeseburger in front of me, and I would probably live up to those medieval standards just fine." "You like rock climbing?" "I do. I find it a nice escape from everyday life. And it's a great way to stay in shape." "A scary way, you mean. Of course, I'm afraid of heights, so I might be biased in my opinion." "Believe it or not, I was too." He finished the bear claw and milk. "I think it had to do with an incident with my older brother. Tommy dangled me off the roof by my ankles. Thought I was a goner for sure. That time, Tommy took the punishment. Not me. When some friends started rock climbing, I decided to take the challenge and face my fear. My fear of heights is gone. Unless Tommy is near, then the whole nightmarish scenario comes right back to me." I spun around to my bottom and stretched my legs out to rest my feet on the coffee table. Chase drew his gaze along my legs, and I found myself imagining what it would feel like if his hands smoothed over my bare skin. "How the heck do you stay so thin with all these goodies around you all the time?" His words popped me out of my temporary sensual daydream. "I think I'm around the stuff all day, so it's easy not to eat it. It's like when I was little and I watched my mom take just a tiny portion of food on Thanksgiving. She used to say that after spending all darn day with her hand up a turkey, she just didn't feel much like eating it. I think it's the same way with me. My hands are always covered with sticky dough and sugar. It's easy not to eat too much of it." Chase tilted his jaw to the side. "Huh, I'm not so sure that's a good theory. I'm surrounded by erotic stuff all day, new toys, lotions, sexy lingerie." He winked at me. "Pleasure devices. But I still love to have sex." He stopped and dropped his gaze to the glass of milk in his hand. "I probably should have stopped that stupid analogy before it actually left my mouth." I laughed. "No, it's not stupid. I think it's cool that you have a job that gives you so much pleasure." It was my turn to wink. The oven timer rang. "I need to get the last batch out of the oven." I walked to the kitchen and was more than a little aware of his footsteps behind me. I pulled the heavy tray out of the oven. He closed the door for me as I placed the pan on the stove. "Sorry it's so hot in here." "I'm not." There was a change in his tone that could not be ignored. He took

hold of my hands the second they were free from my oven mitts. A quick tug and I was pressed up against him. He leaned down to kiss me, but seconds later, he lifted his mouth away. "You're right. It's very hot in here. Let's go back out to the couch." He took hold of my hand and led me out to the front room, but before we could sit he had me back in his arms. This time as his mouth caressed mine, his hands wasted no time dipping under my shirt. He knew his way confidently around the contours of my body, touching with just the right amount of pressure to start a fever in my pussy. I peeled my mouth away from his and stared up into his green eyes. "How do you do that? How do you know exactly what to do to get my pulse racing?" "Your pulse isn't racing yet, Macy. Let me show you. Can I?" "Yes, please. And you don't need to treat me like I'm breakable or like I'll fall to pieces. Being a virgin doesn't make me fragile." He smiled. "Too much handling with care going on?" I nodded. "Guess this is new to me." I curled my arms around his neck. "You think this is new to you, you should be standing in my shoes." Chase tilted his head to the side. "Don't think you're wearing any shoes, darlin'." Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms. The nice thing about a tiny house was that a bedroom didn't need to be pointed out. Chase had to turn sideways to carry me down the hallway without crowning my head on the doorjamb. "Did you bring protection?" It was a question I'd never had to ask before, and I felt a little embarrassed about asking it. I felt so unsophisticated and behind the times. "Won't need it. Today is all about you, my pure little angel."

Chapter Fourteen CHA SE

M acy stretched out on her bed, but there was a certain amount of nervousness in

the sweet smile she cast my direction. I lay down on my side next to her. I leaned over and kissed her lips lightly. "First of all, you need to relax." "Right." She took a deep breath, a breath that pushed her breasts snugly against her tank shirt. This sure as hell was going to be a test of my self-control. But I'd told myself on the drive over that I wasn't going to do anything to mess this up. I wanted to get to know Macy, both emotionally and physically, and I couldn't remember the last time I felt that way about any woman. But when it came to sex, we were from two different worlds, and there was no way I was going to bring her into my world by pushing her too fast. She had way too many things to discover first about her own needs. And I was going to help her find them. I moved slowly at first, pushing her shirt up above her bra. Macy popped her head off the pillow and stared down at her exposed stomach. "Just checking. Nope. It doesn't say fragile or handle with care, remember?" I smiled and felt just a little embarrassed. She was right. I was treating her like she was a priceless piece of porcelain, never touched by human hands. "Macy, has a man ever made you come before?" She bit her bottom lip. I worried I'd just asked the wrong question. She shook her head without lifting it from the pillow. I leaned down and kissed her, gently stroking her lips with my tongue. "May I do the honors, then?" "Yes," she said it quietly, but there was no hesitation. I pushed her hair back and kissed her neck. "Then relax," I whispered. My breath against her skin caused a shiver to race through her. How badly I wanted her to be naked in my arms when her body trembled like that. "Can I take off your shirt and shorts?" Without a verbal answer, she helped me slip her tank shirt off. I reached down and undid the button on her shorts. Her hands reached down. I waited to see if she was planning to stop me. Instead, she shimmied out of the shorts, leaving behind a pale pink pair of panties, sheer enough to give me a tantalizing view of her pussy.

I raked my gaze over her. My cock was jammed tight against my fly. I tried hard to ignore it. "You are just like one of your own confections. Sweet and mouthwatering." "You always say the oddest things. And yet, every time I think—that works. Sexy, smooth and silver-tongued. A good combination." I lowered my face over her and tugged down the cup of her bra to reveal her breast. Her nipple tightened into a rosy bud as I pressed a kiss against it. It hardened more as my tongue drew circles around it. Macy arched her back, letting me know she wanted more. Which I was happy to give. As badly as I wanted her, I was thrilled out of my fucking mind about showing her things she had never experienced. The quiet moans my kisses and caresses were causing made my cock so hard, at one point, I had to stop and grit my teeth against the ache. Macy looked up at me with round eyes. "Is everything all right? Was that it?" She had no idea the effect she was having on me, which made her that much more adorable. I was in a whole new territory here, and I was loving every second of it. "Nope, we've just begun." I brought my mouth back up to her lips and kissed her as my hand trailed over her belly. She wriggled a bit. She was ticklish. Of course. How could someone so fucking cute not be ticklish. I moved slowly again, cautiously, ready for her to say no as my hand journeyed toward her panties. This time she did reach down and take hold of my wrist. The disappointment made me feel as if someone had deflated all the oxygen from my body. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked. She shook her head. "I guess I'm feeling a little self conscious. I wish the sun was down, so the room could be dark." "I think I've got an idea. Do you have a scarf?" Her brows bunched together in confusion. "On the hook in the closet." My raging erection hampered my movement, but I reached the closet and returned to the bed with a silk scarf in my hands. I motioned for her to lift her head from the pillow. She gasped as I moved to tie the scarf around her eyes like a blindfold. I stopped before tying the knot. "This way it'll be dark. Should I continue?" "Dark on my side, yes, but you'll be able to see me, all of me." "I know." The scarf was still wrapped around her eyes. "You're smiling like a big ole' Cheshire cat right now, aren't you?" "Sure am." "Tie the knot." I continued my task of securing the blindfold. She rested back. "I need you to do one more thing." I lifted both her hands and placed them on each side of her head on the pillow. The sight of her blindfolded and nearly naked stretched out on the bed caused an unexpected groan to roll up from my chest. She turned her head toward the side I sat on. "Are you all right?"

I was done tiptoeing. I had a feeling Macy was too. I lowered my mouth to her ear. "No. I'm so fucking hard with wanting you right now, darlin', that it hurts." My words had the desired effect. Her lips parted as her breath quickened. Her breasts rose and fell, and a pink blush covered her skin. I kissed her again. "Now, let's see if you want me as badly as I want you."

Chapter Fifteen M A CY

I was still trying to decide if being blindfolded helped relax me or if it was having

the opposite effect when Chase slipped his hand beneath my bottom, lifted it up and pushed a pillow underneath me. My hips were arched higher than the rest of my body. His fingertips grazed my skin, and I startled. I felt my panties being slow dragged over my thighs and then off my feet. His strong fingers wrapped around my ankles, and he placed my feet on the bed so that my knees were up. I was completely exposed. That feeling should have made me self-conscious. Instead, a warmth circulated through my body, letting me know that I was enjoying the thought of Chase looking at me. My earlier case of nerves had vanished, and it felt as if a much more wanton version of Macy had taken over. I wanted this. And I wanted to see his face as he looked at me. I needed to see that lust that he'd so erotically just described in my ear. I reached up and pushed off the blindfold. Chase was kneeling between my legs. His eyes were a sharp green, intensely bright, as if hungry with something that no amount of sustenance would satisfy. His eyes stayed on my face, watching me as he scooted down to his stomach, his long legs hanging off the bed as he settled comfortably between my thighs. I had never had this kind of intimacy, and the reaction in my body and between my legs was profound. I sucked in a breath and held it as Chase ran kisses along the inside of my thigh. Each time his mouth pressed against me, something deep inside, an internal drive that I never knew existed, made me scoot my ass forward on the pillow. I wanted him to touch my pussy. I needed him to touch it. But he lingered, he took it teasingly slow, stroking my inner thigh with his tongue. As his dark head moved closer to me, I could feel the light stubble on his jaw tantalizingly scrape my skin. His warm breath tickled me, causing a shiver to run through me. Then his fingers trailed lightly over my pussy, and a whimper bubbled from my mouth. My eyes drifted shut. I gripped the coverlet on my bed, waiting, wondering just how this would end. He had hardly touched me yet, but my body had reached a

crescendo, a build up of wanting something so badly I could hardly think about anything except the pulsating need between my legs. And it seemed that the release of energy, when it finally came, would be like nothing I'd ever felt before. It also seemed that if that release never came, I might just die from disappointment. I needed that ending, that satisfaction, or I might just whither into a ball and sob. "Chase," I said, on a pleading whisper. "Please." I wasn't completely sure what I was begging for, but I knew whatever it was, Chase had it. I sucked in another breath and held it as Chase kissed my pussy, softly at first, barely registering a touch and then with more pressure. He added a gentle teasing flick of the tongue, and I released the breath I'd been holding on a long, luxurious sigh. It was as if every ounce of feeling in my body was concentrated in one place, my pussy. Chase was now controlling me with his mouth and fingers. His fingertip pressed between the folds of my pussy, stopping at the hard nub. My clitoris became a magic button, and as Chase caressed it, I felt my entire body hurdling toward something, something explosive. I found myself contracting my bottom and pushing harder against his mouth, signaling him I needed more. He answered my muted plea by slipping his finger inside of me. The cotton cover on my bed was bunched in my hands as I gripped the fabric, not sure what else to hold onto to keep from floating away into a delirious erotic haze. As he impaled me with his finger, his tongue and mouth kept my clitoris tight with arousal. His free hand slipped under my bare bottom, and he lifted me higher and harder against his mouth. Instinctually, the muscles in my legs and body tensed as if they were working hard to put all the focus on my pussy. Every touch, every caress brought me closer to something that was still a mystery but that was something I now needed more than I'd ever needed anything. Chase moved with perfect rhythm and precision, not a movement wasted. Everything he did created more heat and made my pussy drip with moisture. My thighs squeezed together as if they had a mind of their own. Chase's thick hair brushed against my skin, but the tickling sensation fell away fast. All I could think about were the sensations overwhelming my pussy. Chase's thick finger dipped inside of me again, and his tongue lathed over my clit. And that was it. My body was wracked with undulating waves of pleasure. I cried out, unable to stop myself. I reached for Chase and tangled my fingers in his thick hair, needing to hold onto something. He continued, rhythm and focus unbroken by the twisting, trembling motion of my body as I absorbed the explosive sensations. As the waves receded and I felt myself coming back down to earth, my breathing slowed and my head cleared. Chase lifted his face up from between my thighs and grinned at me. "And that, my beautiful angel, is just one of the things you've been missing out on these last four years." He sat up on his knees and then dropped down on his side next to me on the bed. I turned toward him and still felt a rush of tingles in my pussy. "What's that

phrase? I think it's a Cher song. 'If I could turn back time'.” "That's all right. I figure we've got four years of catching up to do, but lucky for you, you've found someone who can catch you up in a month's time."

Chapter Sixteen CHA SE

Z ane had picked up burgers. The four of us met in Trey's office for our once a

month lunch where we agreed to talk about anything except business. It helped us to not forget how the four of us had started life, not as four business partners but as four friends growing up in a tough neighborhood with families that were anything but ideal. Trey and I had both grown up with single parents who had to work multiple jobs just to pay bills. But we'd still had it better than Aidan, who grew up with both parents in the house. They were two adults who acted more like kids. They were so obsessed with partying and making themselves feel good that they never paid any attention to Aidan. He ended up getting expelled from high school for fighting. He was constantly in trouble, but his parents couldn’t have cared less. Eventually, he realized doing radical things to get in trouble wasn't helping him get the attention from his mom and dad he craved, so he stopped. After that, he worked hard at two jobs to have enough money to move out of his parents’ house. He'd finally found something that got his parents’ attention. Wealth. They were still a couple of worn out losers, only now they lived in a nice house. Zane, on the other hand, had everything going for him until his mother married a creep who Zane stabbed one day to defend his mother from the man's physical abuse. Things went shitty for him after that. But once the four of us met up again at a friend's wedding, we found we still had that deep connection we'd had as kids. We also all had a keen desire to make something of ourselves. Now we had. The lunches helped remind us of where we’d started from. Aidan, who could down two double cheeseburgers with ease, pulled a spare chair up to the side of Trey's desk. Gray clouds hovered in the sky outside the massive office window. Rain had drizzled down all day, and I wondered how the bad weather was affecting Macy's business. After I left her place on Sunday, I knew that I'd gotten myself in deep. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Zane walked in with that bunched up look he got when something had him pissed. He sat down in the chair with an angry clamor. Trey pulled his burger from the bag and leaned back in his chair. "What's got you in a snit?" he asked Zane.

Zane rummaged through the bag for his burger. "Got a fucking parking ticket. When the hell are they going to be done paving the parking lot? I thought they said a week." Trey squeezed out a packet of ketchup onto his fries. "They did. And it's been nearly ten days, so I think it's time for you to go down there and talk to the foreman and let him know it needs to be done tomorrow." Zane took a bite and washed it down with soda. "Why me?" I swallowed my bite of food. "Because you're the team asshole. The asshole is the person you send out to do dirty work." Zane looked at me. "Why the hell am I the asshole?" I pointed at Trey with a French fry. "He's the cool, level headed guy." "Yeah," Zane interrupted. "And Aidan is the guy with the fists and the lethal right hook. And you," he rolled his eyes, "you're just a lot of air wrapped in a package that women can't resist. And I'm . . ." He dunked a fry in ketchup. "Shit, I guess I am the team asshole. I'll talk to them after lunch." Aidan pulled the onions out of his burger. "Hate it when they load these on. Then it's all I can taste." He shoveled half the burger down in one bite. "It's a wonder you can taste anything at all with the way you suck that thing down," Zane noted. He turned to me. "Hey, where the hell were you last night? Thought we were going to play racquetball. I texted you like five times." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and scrolled to Zane's name. "Huh, you sure did. I was busy." Aidan laughed. "Whose pussy were you in this time? I liked that little brunette you were dating for awhile." Trey reached for his soda. "And by awhile, he means longer than twenty-four hours." "Well, fuck you all, and I wasn't with the brunette. In fact, I'm not even sure who you mean. I met someone." I took a huge bite so they'd have to wait for me to chew and swallow before I continued. But I'd gotten their attention. They all stared at me. Before I could swallow, they burst out laughing. "That's fucking rich," Zane said. "I've met someone," he said in an obnoxious imitation. "Fuck off." I continued with my lunch deciding they were assholes who didn't need to hear any more. "C'mon, Chase," Trey said. "You have to admit, those words coming from the guy who can meet his soul mate in the morning at the coffee shop only to have already broken her heart by the time the whipped cream melts on her frappe. It's funny. Admit it." "Fine. Don't believe me. But this time is different." "How is this different?" Aidan asked. "Red hair instead of auburn?" "She's a virgin." Zane choked on his sip of soda. I took pleasure in giving him a hard clap on his back.

"Did you say virgin or that her name is Virginia?" Aidan asked. I shot him an eye roll. "Exactly what does that mean?" Trey asked. Zane sat back. "Shit, bro, if we have to explain the meaning of that term to you —" "No, idiot, I'm asking him what the heck that means to him. Is this some conquest thing or what?" "No, fuck, how did I become the target. Switch the focus back to Zane being the team asshole." Trey put on that face that he liked to wear when he was about to act like he was older and more experienced than the rest of us. I pointed at him. "You can just put away that fatherly scowl, Trey. It's not a fucking conquest. You're such a big shot now that you're in a steady relationship. Do you think you're the only person who can fall in love?" "Nope." Trey sat back. "I think Zane and Aidan are perfectly capable of finding the right person if they ever decide to look, but you're different. You don't ever seem interested in any woman for longer than three days." "The attention span of a three month old puppy," Aidan quipped before plowing burger two into his face. "Well, you're all fucking wrong. This woman is different, and it's not just because she's a virgin." Zane was smirking behind his soda. I threw a fry at his head. "We're done talking about this." "Okie dokie," Zane muttered. "Different," he scoffed. "That's fucking hilarious." "Go to hell, Bostwick." I wadded up my burger wrapper and got up. "Terrific fucking lunch. See y'all later."

Chapter Seventeen M A CY

C huck had had a slow day at the smoothie stand, and he'd been visiting me all

day. He also had incredible intuition, and he'd picked up that something was going on with me. Of course, the fact that I was dropping things, messing up orders and forgetting to give back change might have had something to do with it. He was standing in his bright blue Hawaiian shirt sipping a smoothie outside of my kiosk as I cleaned up for the day. "Well, Macy, are you going to fill me in on the details, or are you just going to let me use my vivid, overactive imagination to color in the lines?" I lifted my chin in nonchalance. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Oh, come on. You've been distracted and an absolute butterfingers all day." He slapped his hand on the counter. "You've met someone. That's what that rosy glow floating around you is about. Who is it? I want to hear all about him." I turned to the coffee station to hide the smile and blush that was sure to give me away. Chuck was too clever. "Ah ha, I can see pink rising up your neck. There must be one heck of a story to tell. Dish it out and don't leave off any of the yummy stuff." I turned back to Chuck. "It's nothing yet. Only the sparks of something, and it probably won't lead to anything because he is way out of my league. We aren't even from the same planet when I really think about it." "Nonsense." Chuck asked me something else, but my attention was drawn away. Chase walked around the corner from the parking structure. His gaze shot straight across the plaza and crashed with mine. His bright white smile followed. I had to tamp down the rush of excitement that went through me. "Well?" Chuck's irritated tone brought me back to the conversation. "I'm sorry, Chuck, what did you ask?" "I asked if he was good looking. Not that it matters, of course. It's what's inside that matters, but no one ever complains about a sweet outer package. Is he handsome?" Chase headed my direction. I could hardly hear my own thoughts over the heartbeat pounding in my chest. "Actually, Chuck, he's beautiful. Mr. Beautiful, to

be exact." Chase walked up behind Chuck, who was standing dumbstruck with his mouth forming a perfect O. "Afternoon," Chase said, adding in a complimentary grin. "Aft—afternoon," Chuck stuttered and stumbled quickly away and over to George's hot dog stand. Chase watched him hurry away and then turned back to me. "What are you doing this afternoon? I find myself with a half day off. Got finished early." "Must be nice. I've got to clean up today's work so I can go home and start on tomorrow's work. It's sort of a never-ending cycle." "Do you need some help?" "Sure. How much do you know about making pastries?" "I'm pretty good at eating them." Chase walked around to my side of the counter and took hold of my hand. He kissed the back of it and licked his lips. "Hmm, just like sugar." "That would be the sticky glaze on the cherry tarts." He shook his head. "Nope. I think it's just you. I'll come help. I'm a very fast learner. Especially when the baker is a hottie in an apron, working a rolling pin." "If you sure you've got nothing better to do." "Than spend time with you? Nothing better than that." He pushed my chin up with his fingers and kissed me on the lips. He licked his own again. "Yep, sugar. Pure sweet sugar. I'll see you at your place." He walked away. George and Chuck scurried right over. "Oh holy shit, Macy. You landed Mr. Beautiful." Chuck's smile faded fast though. He took hold of my hand. "Be careful with that heart of yours. It's still on the mend and that man is six feet of pure heartbreak." "I know, Chuck. I'm trying to keep my head clear, but he's making it awfully hard." The three of us watched as Mr. Beautiful, currently my Mr. Beautiful, disappeared through the tinted glass doors.

Chapter Eighteen CHA SE

I 'd been teasing Macy about the hottie in an apron with a rolling pin, but the truth

was standing in a tight little kitchen with her flitting around, working the dough and building delicious things with her talented hands had given me all kinds of dirty thoughts. Of course, I was pretty sure Macy could just sit and read a book and it would give me dirty thoughts. And if there was one thing I'd been thinking a lot about, it was Macy. After lunch with my so called friends, I had spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what they'd said. I hated it when Zane and Trey teased me into questioning my own motives. I could never lie to myself. I couldn't deny that Macy being a virgin had piqued my interest, but it had very little to do with my feelings for her. Somehow, in a very short time, she had made me rethink everything. I'd never believed there was one woman out in the world meant to tame my heart, but Macy had changed that. After the long list of women I'd dated or been with, I'd finally met the one who I could picture myself being with long past the first few dates or a good long night of sex. I'd finally met a woman who I could see spending time with and who I would miss terribly if she was no longer around. I hadn't been much help, the opposite most likely, but the one thing I could do with some skill was wash dishes. Being the youngest of four boys, I had somehow always managed to be the one stuck with dish duty. Macy finished placing the last pastries on the cooling rack. She looked tired from another long day, and I found myself wanting to cradle her in my arms and kiss the weariness from her expression. I picked up a pot and began to dry it. "You are doing the work of at least three people, Macy. Can't you hire someone to help?" She started putting away the ingredients. "I plan to someday, when this business actually starts to make enough. But right now, I'm working just to keep this house and pay bills. I did, however, use my spread sheets to extrapolate when that might be. And I'm happy to announce that by winter of the year 2023, I'll be able to hire an employee." I looked over at her to see if she was serious. The side of her lip tipped up with a

weak smile, but her eyes were glassy. She shrugged. "I'm getting a lot of customers, and, most importantly, loyal customers, but the overhead is huge, and as you can see, the labor is intensive. When I look at the numbers, even with me selling out almost every day, I don't think I can ever make a real living selling goodies from a food cart. My real dream was to start my own bakery, with help and with a side business of custom cakes. But that all faded away with my botched wedding plans." She took a deep, sad sounding breath as she looked around at the dozens of amazing pastries she'd baked in her tiny kitchen in just a matter of hours. "You can see now why I had to turn down your offer to make a chocolate treat for your company. I just don't have any more hours in my day." "I see that. By the way, we found someone to work with. One of the names you gave me. I think they call themselves the Chocolate Chicks. They were very excited, so I'm sure you'll be getting a thank you from them. I made sure to let them know you recommended them. If it works out well, they could have a permanent gig making chocolates for our boxes." "Great," Macy said, sounding a little sad about it. "I went to school with Fran and Hanna. You'll like working with them." "I would rather have been working with you." I put down the towel and wrapped my arms around her. She relaxed against me with a tired sigh. "I brought a new product that I think you'll like. The women at work, our highly enthusiastic product testers, really loved it. Why don't you take that shower you were mentioning, and I'll finish drying these dishes. Then we can give it a test run on you. I think you need it." She lifted her face up to mine. "Oh my gosh, there's so much perfection to go along with those sparkling green eyes. I don't think I want to give you back." "Give me back to who?" "I don't know." She stepped out of my arms and waved her hand through the air as if it weighed a hundred pounds. "All those women you hang out with. Never mind. I'm so tired, I'm just rambling." She plodded to the bathroom, and I finished cleaning up. I heard the shower running and soapy steam was drifting under the bathroom door. I walked out to my car and grabbed the bag with the lavender massage oil off the passenger seat. It had warmed in the last hours of daylight, just as I'd hoped. The women had been standing around the coffee pot this morning, smelling like a field of lavender and raving about the wonderful oil. I'd decided to grab a bottle and try it out on Macy. I stepped back into the house. I headed to the bedroom to put down the bottle of massage oil. The shower turned off as I walked back down the hallway. I stood there and stared at the bathroom door, thinking about Macy standing on the other side, wet and naked. That was all it took to make me hard. I thought back to Sunday when I'd tasted her pussy and felt her come against my mouth. All I could think about after that was what it would feel like to be buried deep inside of her, holding her naked, trembling body in my arms as I pushed her to climax. For now, I would

take it slow. It would take all my control, but I wanted to make this right for her. She'd waited so many years, I wanted her to be sure. I planned to use every technique and skill in my arsenal to make her ready. I needed her to want me as badly as I wanted her. It seemed I was delusional about the amount of self-control I had when it came to Macy. Before I'd even formed the decision in my brain, I reached for the bathroom doorknob. It turned. I stepped into the steamy room. I could see Macy's silhouette through the pink plastic shower curtain. She was wringing out her hair. As she turned her head outward, she obviously caught my silhouette as well. A small gasp echoed off the shower stall. Her fingers curled around the edge of the curtain, and she peeked her face around. "Hello." "Hello." I picked up the towel and held it open. "I decided I still had one more thing to dry." I worried for a second that she'd shut the curtain and tell me to get out. Instead, she pushed back the curtain, unveiling the masterpiece that I'd been anticipating. I'd seen her mostly naked, but this was the first time she was completely naked and standing in full view. I held the towel back for a second to allow myself the pleasure of looking at her. "You are head to toe beautiful, Macy." "And you are far too practiced at flattery. I assure you that if you examined me closely, head to toe, there would be a whole list of flaws." She lifted her long, sleek thigh over the edge of the shower and stepped into to the waiting towel. She pointed out an inch long scar on her shoulder. "See this. An unsightly reminder of a front flip off my friend's diving board. Clipped myself good. The entire deep end of the pool turned red. Looked like a scene from Jaws." "And yet you wear it just right, so it's very sexy." I leaned my mouth down and kissed the scar. I rubbed my hands along the towel, working up some warm friction to dry her skin. She stood still and let me dry her, blinking up at me with her big brown eyes. "You are talented with terry cloth . . . among other things." I rubbed the towel over her head, and she laughed as I gave it a good scrub. "I'm starting to feel a little like a dog that just came in from the rain." Her voice was muffled by the towel. "That's the last thing I want." I wrapped the towel around her and took her hand. I led her down the hallway and waved my hand over the bed. "Welcome to the Chase England spa. Now drop the towel, darlin' and place that hot little body on the bed, perky bottom up." Her eyes drifted to the bottle of oil. "Lavender. Ooh, I think I'm going to like this." She made a show of removing the towel. I nodded in approval. I couldn't stop myself from kissing her breasts and tasting her nipples before she lowered her body onto the bed. My cock strained in my pants as I watched her climb onto the

bed and lay down on her belly. Again, I couldn't stop myself from first kissing and then taking a bite out of her ass. I was hoping that allowing myself fun in little spurts would help ease some of the pressure I was putting on my body, like those small earthquakes that are supposed to relieve energy to avoid a cataclysmic earthquake. But it seemed each taste or touch only made the tension in my muscles and the throbbing in my cock intensify. Maybe this would be the night when I heard Macy say, ‘please, Chase I want you’. I was sure going to do my damndest to make it happen. I knelt down on the bed next to her body. She lifted her head up. "Uh, excuse me, sir, but don't expect a good review for your spa if the masseuse doesn't at least take off his shirt. I'm kind of feeling a little overexposed. I haven't seen nearly as much of you." "I don't want to risk a bad review." She watched as I lifted off my shirt. Her eyes drifted down to my fly where my cock was making no attempt at hiding itself. "I see all your parts are working and in good order." She laughed and lowered her head to the pillow. "Maybe this will be a five star review after all." "I sure as hell hope so." I squeezed a puddle of oil into my palm. Lavender permeated the air, even drowning out the lingering aroma of pastries in the house. I straddled her naked bottom. It was pure fucking torture. How badly I wanted to just yank off my jeans and introduce her to the world of fucking. I clenched my jaw and tried hard to refocus on the massage. I rubbed the oil in my hands and started at her shoulders.

Chapter Nineteen M A CY

C hase's hands were pure heaven as he smoothed the fragrant oil over my tired

body. The truth was I'd gotten myself into a bit of a funk after I'd crunched numbers from my first week in business. I was working so hard, but it seemed I really hadn't considered just how hard this was going to be to do on my own. Meeting Chase in the midst of it had thrown me off my game some too, which wasn't great. But I still wasn't willing to give him up. He could stick around for as long as he wanted, although I reminded myself daily that that wouldn't be long. I was certain Chase wasn't the stick around type. In the meantime, I was learning about the physical pleasures I'd been missing all these years. And I was sure I couldn't ask for a better person to introduce me to those tasty delights than Chase. Now if I wasn't falling for him at the same time, I'd pat myself on the back for becoming a sophisticated, modern woman. But I was falling for him, so I was holding back on the self-congratulation. As his capable, strong hands made their way along my back and sides, a rush of heat surged between my legs. I couldn't stop thinking about the exquisite sensations Chase had filled me with when he'd leaned down between my legs. My inexperience was quickly erased by his experience. He knew his way around my body as if he had a map etched in his brain. As if any more luxury needed to be added to my lavender laden massage, Chase leaned over me and planted kisses along the back of my neck. I mewled softly, letting him know that he was hitting all the right places. I could feel his hard, muscular body looming over me as he gently and erotically kneaded my muscles. "You've got some tension in this lower back," he noted. He spread his hands wide and rolled them up my back, smoothing out all the kinks with his magic touch. As my body relaxed and my head was filled with a lavender cloud, the same urgent pulsing need I'd felt before, when he'd brought me to orgasm with his hands and mouth, returned. This time the ache felt hollow as if the only way it could be satiated was if it were filled. The rough denim of Chase's jeans scraped my thighs as he scooted lower. He

used his knees to spread my thighs wide. I obliged him by moving them even wider. I wanted to let him know that I wanted him there, between my legs. "That's it, darlin', let's see a little more of you." I pushed my legs wider still and reached up to grip the edge of the pillow that I rested my cheek on. The expectation was making me so wet with desire, I was sure he could see it. The bed lurched side to side as Chase reached over me to the second pillow I had tucked against the headboard. He slipped it beneath me so that my ass was up higher than the rest of my body. "Perfect." His voice was deep and gravelly. He settled back between my widespread thighs and smoothed oil over my ass. This time the mewl was a long, shuddering moan. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of his strong hands on me, massaging away the day's tension, all the while creating a frenzy of heat in my pussy. I clutched the pillow in my fingers and found myself lifting my ass higher, inviting him to explore every inch of me. Which he did. His hands smoothed along the backs of my thighs and then journeyed back up toward the apex between my legs. I gasped as his fingers grazed my pussy, teasing me almost mercilessly with their light touch. I wanted so much more than that. Chase had brought me back to that heightened sense of pleasure where nothing but an explosive ending would satisfy me. I cried out in relief when his finger slid inside of me. "Oh, Chase," I whispered across the pillow. As his finger dipped inside of me, his free hand reached between my body and the pillow and settled against my clit. Even sandwiched between my pussy and the pillow, his thumb deftly strummed my clit. I felt the bed move, and for a moment, I thought he might strip down and fuck me. I bit my lip, slightly terrified and slightly thrilled at the prospect. I wasn't sure if I was ready. I'd been waiting for so long, I wasn't sure if I was mentally prepared for it. As badly as I wanted him, I wasn't sure yet. But he didn't undress and he didn't climb on top of me. Instead, his mouth pressed against my bare bottom, sprinkling it with kisses as his hands brought me closer to climax. "Chase, please, don't stop," I pleaded. "Never," he said between kisses. I moved my ass higher and harder against his hand, wanting him to go deeper. In seconds, I writhed desperately against the pressure of his hand and his mouth as if I was racing for something, something that was just out of reach but that would be well worth the effort. And as I reached that edge, the abyss that I knew would soon swallow me, I cried out. "Oh, yes, Chase. Fuck yes!" My body shuddered and a glaze of warm perspiration covered me as my pussy clenched in spasms around his hand. He leaned over me again, stroking my back and bottom as my heart rate returned to normal. I relaxed my head against the pillow and let my mind drift into a drowsy state of bliss.

Chapter Twenty CHA SE

I continued to rub excess oil into Macy's skin. It was so fucking fun bringing her to

orgasm. She reacted with every inch of her body as if she'd been craving that level of satisfaction for so long she wasn't going to take any of it for granted. I needed to stretch my legs out and my cock needed to be relieved of my kneeling position. My poor cock. It was never going to forgive me. At one point, when she seemed almost to plead my name, I was sure she'd ask me to fuck her. But it never happened. I stretched out on my side next to her, placed my head on the pillow and faced her. Her long lashes fluttered open. She was bone tired and in need of a good night's sleep. "Ten stars," she sighed. I kissed her lips. "I can't believe what happens to my body when you touch me." Her words were stretched and slow. "And then I reach this point in time where I think either this ends with an orgasm or I die. A simple, quick and wholly unsatisfying death. Do you ever feel that way? Like you will just die if you don't get to finish?" I thought about the two times that I'd been in her bedroom and smiled. "Yeah, I've felt that way too." "Thank you for not letting me die." Her voice trailed off and her eyes closed tight. She was asleep. I watched her for a few minutes, the way her lip twitched ever so slightly while she slept and the soft sounds she made. Then I climbed off the bed and wrapped the blanket around her. She didn't even stir when I leaned down to kiss her cheek. She was out. And I was out too. Out of my mind with wanting this woman.

Chapter Twenty-One M A CY

I was doing it again. It seemed I was seriously going to have to consider moving

Sweet Spot to another location just so I wouldn't waste work time watching for Chase to come out of his building. After an incredible deluxe massage at the hands of a true master, I'd drifted into such a deep, much needed sleep that I slept straight through until my alarm woke me at four. Chase had been long gone, but the scent of lavender still permeated my room and my skin. I had almost hated to take a shower because I could still feel his hands on me smoothing the oil over my skin and I wanted to hang on to the incredible feeling. It was an hour after opening, the early commuter rush was just slowing, but Chase had still not emerged, assuming he was in his penthouse. That prickling sensation that struck me every time I imagined him up there entertaining one of his many women friends resurfaced. There was every chance that he had someone up there with him. And I couldn't blame him. I now knew what it was like to be taken to the height of arousal, where nothing else would do for an ending other than an orgasm. Last night, I had seen the thick bulge in his pants when he stood over my bed. I found it hard to believe that I could possibly be stimulation for him. I had seen the two women he had on his arms the first day I met him, and I felt utterly out of their league. On top of that, I was an inexperienced ninny in the bedroom. But I hadn't expected the erection. He had taken excellent care of my needs and had left my house with no satisfaction of his own. It seemed depressingly likely that he would have gone home to find some of that satisfaction with someone else. Harlan, an office manager from the building two blocks down and a regular customer, walked up to the stand. "The usual, Macy." "Sure thing." I pulled a box out from under the counter and unfolded it. "Looks like we might get some rainy weather later," he noted. "Yeah, I hope it stays away until I'm done packing up for the day. Oh, I'll need to start a new pot of coffee. You want four, right?" "Yes, please." Harlan pulled out his cell phone for a conversation, and I turned

to the coffee station to start a new pot. I had to lug gallons of water along with me each morning to fill the pots. An arduous task, made more difficult by the fact that I had to park a good block away. I'd invested in a solid rolling cart, but I still had to make three trips to the car to get all my supplies to the stand for the day. Chase had brought up the idea of hiring someone to help and the truth was, I really needed it, but there was just no way to do it without the business going belly up. As it was, I was just scraping by. I finished with the coffee and turned back to Harlan. He had moved off to the side to finish his call, but someone else was standing at the counter. My heart stuttered in my chest, and a low sinking feeling filled my stomach. "Trevor, what are you doing here?" He had changed his hair. It was shorter. It was hard to know why I was ever attracted to him in the first place. He pushed his expensive sunglasses onto his head and looked pointedly up at the sign. Then he swept a sneering gaze around my tiny kiosk. "It's hardly the bakery you always dreamed about." "Yes, I had to change a lot of my dreams, thanks to you. But I'm doing just fine." "Are you?" I realized I also hated the sound of his voice. Was his tone always that arrogant? Harlan returned for his order. "I've got work to do, Trevor. Nice seeing you. Now go away." Harlan's eyes widened at my comment to a presumed customer. "My exfiancé," I muttered with just enough disgust to let him know the man had deserved my rudeness. Harlan seemed to understand and nodded. I filled his coffee order and tried hard to ignore the shadow looming over my cart. Apparently, my blunt, simple message telling him to go away was too hard to comprehend. I finished with Harlan. He shot me a wink before walking away. Trevor decided he had the right to walk around to my side of the stand. I found myself jammed in the tight space with the one person who I hated more than anyone. Had he always worn that foul smelling aftershave or did it just smell bad now because the man wearing it was such a pig? "I need you to get out of this kiosk now." Trevor took hold of my hand, but I yanked it away. "Macy, let's get together and talk about this. I've changed. I'm working out my problems, and I think you need me." I laughed. "I don't need you. Oh my god, if there's one thing on this entire planet that I do not need it's you. I don't ever want to see you again. Now get out of this kiosk." "She asked you to get out. I suggest you do that." Chase's deep, smooth voice was the perfect contrast to Trevor's grating, arrogant tone. I looked at him. His green eyes were normally sparkling with humor, but this time they were dark with anger. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and somehow his shoulders, now tense with anger, managed to look even broader than normal. Trevor looked at him and his brows twittered with annoyance. But there was also

a glint of fear in his face, something I'd never seen before. "Sorry, dude, this is between us, so why don't you go back to wherever you came from." "I'm not going anywhere." Chase cocked his head just slightly. He stood silently, his jaw clenched, waiting for Trevor to step out. Trevor looked at me. "Are you sleeping with this jackass?" "It's none of your damn business what I do. You have no part in my life. Now get out of here, so I can run my business." Trevor's harsh laugh rocked my small stand. "Do you think I'd actually want you now that you're damaged goods? Whore." From the corner of my eye, I saw Chase flinch, but I put up my hand to stop him from moving toward Trevor. I scowled up at the jerk who had basically stolen four years of my life. "That's it, isn't it, you sick creep. You just had it in your head that you wanted a virgin bride. And while I stupidly waited for you, you helped yourself to every woman who would have you." I pushed past him and walked around to stand in front of Chase. Chuck and George and every passerby had stopped to watch, but I didn't care. I was filled with so much rage at the thought of losing out on all those years, years I would never get back, all I could think of was getting back at Trevor. "If finally finding out what it's like to kiss and be touched by a real man and not a slimy, spoiled narcissist like you makes me a whore, then I'm happy to be damaged goods." Since there was no room for me to stomp out of and no doors to slam shut for dramatic exit, I threw my arms around Chase and kissed him. The onlookers applauded, and Chuck shot out a loud whistle. Spoiled asshole that he was, Trevor swung his fist at the coffee cups I had stacked on the counter. They shot in every direction. He stomped out of the kiosk. Chase moved me behind him in a protective gesture that made my chest feel heavy with affection for the man. Trevor lifted his chin and stood nearly toe to toe with Chase. "You can fucking have her." "Sorry asshole, but I think she just made it pretty clear that she wasn't yours to give. Now I'm going to let you walk away from here with all those pearly whites still in your smug face, but if you ever come near Macy again, I will fucking hurt you." Trevor stuck around for about two more seconds before marching off with that same petulant stomp I saw after I called off the wedding. Chase turned to me. "Are you all right?" "I'm fine, I mean for damaged goods and all." I tried to act nonchalant as if the entire incident was just one to be laughed at over tea with the girls, but my pulse was just beginning to drop low enough that I could no longer hear it in my ears. Chase lifted my chin with his fingers and brushed my lips with a light kiss. "He's an asshole. Seems to me, you dodged a big, ugly bullet when you called it off with that guy." "I couldn't agree more. And thank you for that. I wasn't sure how to get rid of

him, but you seemed to have found his weak spot—fear. I always had this inkling that he was the type of guy who would pull his wife in front of him as a shield if someone broke into the house." I still hadn't forgotten that Chase had immediately pushed me behind him for protection. That was when I realized I'd never felt that way with Trevor. With the day's entertainment over, people returned to whatever it was they were up to. George and Chuck got back to work but I was sure I was going to get the third degree the moment they had some spare time. I had customers heading toward Sweet Spot as well, which Chase noted too. I took hold of his hand before getting back to work. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for last night either. I'm afraid I was a very rude hostess last night when I fell fast asleep. I'm sorry, but your deluxe spa treatment had been so relaxing, and I was so tired—" Chase leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "My pleasure, and I see you've got customers so I'll quickly ask you what I'd planned on asking you before I saw that clown standing in the kiosk. It's my weekend at the Plaything beach house, and I was hoping you'd go with me. We could leave Saturday after you close up and be back Sunday afternoon in time for you to get ready for Monday." I dropped my head back. "That sounds amazing. Are you sure you want to waste your beach house weekend with me?" "Yes, I won't even go if you say no." "You know what, yes, I will go. I'm ready for a real day off. In fact—" I glanced in the direction that Trevor had lumbered off. He was gone, and gone for good, I hoped. "I'm ready," I repeated and gazed up at him, hoping he'd understand. He seemed to, but it was obvious he didn't want to jump to conclusions. "I'm starting to feel a little greedy about the whole thing." Chase still hadn't responded, and I wondered if I'd just made a major ass of myself by assuming that he wanted to take me to bed. "Of course, if you're not interested . . ." "Not interested?" His deep laugh caught me off guard. "Holy shit, not interested. Considering that I've been thinking of little else, I think I can safely say I'm interested. I'll call you later."

Chapter Twenty-Two CHA SE

M acy shifted in the passenger seat and lifted a strand of her hair. "Do I smell like

powdered sugar? I swear I can shower for an hour and still not get the smell of baked goods out of my hair." She laughed. "Guess it's a good thing I don't work at the fish market." "And yet, I'd still find you adorable." She turned to look at me and titled her head in disbelief. "Seriously, if I was sitting here right now with the odor of fish guts on me, you'd still think I was adorable?" "Yep. I mean I'd probably have one of those old fashioned clothespins on my nose, but I could look past it." And I wasn't exaggerating. I was done second guessing myself when it came to Macy. The moment I saw that creep standing close to her, threatening her and throwing hurtful words at her, I wanted to tear the asshole apart. There had been other instances when I came to a woman's aid. I was never one to stand back when someone was getting physically or verbally abused, but I'd never felt such rage. It explained a lot. It explained why I couldn't stop thinking about Macy and why I'd been ignoring texts and calls and invitations from other women. I'd been like a monk for the past few weeks because I only wanted one woman. Even in my own head, it sounded completely foreign, as if someone else was thinking it. I never thought those words would cross my mind. I'd given Trey plenty of grief over his instant love for Georgie, but I'd never expected it to happen to me. I hadn't bothered to tell any of them and especially not Trey because I would never hear the end of it. It was late on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, but the clouds on the horizon looked less than friendly as I drove along the coastal highway. "My phone says rain tomorrow, but I'm holding out hope the little rain cloud icon will turn to a sun before morning. You never know out here. A good onshore breeze can push the clouds inland before the first drop falls." Macy pulled her gaze from the side window. "Of course, if it rains, we could always stay in all day. I'm sure we can figure out something to do." "I like your way of thinking. You know, Macy, I'm enjoying the hell out of

showing you the pleasures of an orgasm, but we don't have to jump ahead. I want you to be sure you're ready." "I'm ready. After that horrid incident with Trevor, I asked myself why the hell I was still playing the part of the good little girl. I never wanted to wait. It was him. And after those two blissful evenings with you, I realized I was missing out on something amazing. At least it's amazing when it involves you. Something tells me it would have been nothing but disappointing with Trevor. Selfish bastard that he is." I drove the car up the driveway to the beach house. Last year, the house had gone up for auction at a price that was too good to turn down. We'd decided to buy it as an investment property, fix it up and sell it for profit. But by the time we paid to have it fixed up, we decided it was too cool to sell. "Oh wow," Macy stretched up to see out the windshield. "It's so pretty. Love the landscaping and the view. I can only imagine what it's like from the front of the house." I parked the car. We climbed out and I grabbed our bags. All I could think about was twenty-four hours of Macy. I unlocked the door, and Macy shot past me to the front window. She pulled back the curtains to reveal the azure blue water and ivory white sand below. The sun was low in the sky, peering through the thickening clouds. The beach visitors had long since packed up their umbrellas and chairs for the day. Macy turned to me. "You have a Jacuzzi on deck. Of course you do. Why wouldn't you in a place like this." The house was small compared to some of the other estates lining the beach, but we'd spared no expense in the remodel. Macy walked into the kitchen and spun around once. "I could bake my little bottom off in a kitchen like this." I stepped in behind her and pulled her into my arms. "I hope not." I reached down, and through the fabric of her dress, I cupped her ass in my hands. "Otherwise baking in here is off limits because I have grown really fond of this ass." She threw her arms around my neck as I lifted her. "In fact, I've grown really fond of the whole damn package." I'd told myself to take it slow, but now that I had her all to myself for a day, I wasn't going to waste one damn minute. I carried her through the front room and down the hall to the bedroom. Trey had found the ornate wrought iron bed at an estate sale. The interior designer we hired had designed the room around it. I lowered Macy's feet to the floor. Once again, she walked to the window and pushed back the drapes. "There is an equally stunning view from this room, but I guess you knew that." I pulled open the drapes and opened the windows to let in the ocean breeze. "Best part about the view," I added, "is that the location of the house up on the ridge makes it impossible for people down below to see into the house. It's sort of like a one way window." I took her hand and turned her to face me. "Which means we could walk around naked all damn weekend if we were so inclined."

Macy laughed at my choice of words. "Well, are we so inclined?" "Don't know." I pushed my mouth against hers and kissed her gently. "Why don't we start right now, and if it feels right, we'll just go with it." I kissed her again, and as I did, I reached around and unzipped her dress. I pushed the straps off her shoulders, and the dress dropped to her waist and to the floor, pooling around her ankles. I stepped back and looked at her. The ocean breeze drifting through the window made her hair dance around her shoulders. "Take off the bra and panties." I had only unzipped her dress, but my voice was already strained as I worked hard to hold myself back. Macy stepped out of the dress and kicked off her sandals. She reached back and unhooked her bra. She slid it off and dropped it on the floor next to her dress. Her nipples puckered instantly as my gaze swept down to her breasts. With a quick push, the panties fell to her ankles. She stepped out of them. She held out her arms and twirled around once. When she faced me again, she stopped and pointed at me. "You're next." I reached back and pulled off my t-shirt. I dropped my shorts, leaving only my boxer briefs, which were snug enough to leave no doubt about how her nakedness had affected me. I pushed down my underwear and my cock sprang free. She sucked in a breath and stared at my erection. She stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around it, exploring its length with her soft palm. My pulse surged. I tightened my fists, allowing her the time but needing badly to end my agony. I'd been wanting her so badly that it had been like suffering a never ending erection for days. Her thumb circled around the tip, spreading the pre-cum that her simple touch had already produced. She peered up at me, looking a little less sure than before. "This looks pretty daunting. Do you happen to have a beginner's size? A starter kit of sorts." I laughed. "I'm afraid this is it." I took hold of her wrist. "But if you continue this will be over before it has started and then, contrary to popular sentiment, 'size won't matter'.” I swept her into my arms. "I promise to be gentle." Of course, my body was pleading with me to be anything but gentle. Two weeks of tension had built up in my muscles, especially after tasting her and feeling every inch of her, but never getting to fuck her. I would have to restrain myself, but it wasn't going to be easy. I lowered her onto the bed. She smiled up at me. "Gentle but not too gentle. I'm a virgin, but I'm pretty sure nothing down there is breakable."

Chapter Twenty-Three M A CY

M y heart sputtered like the wings of a hummingbird as I watched Chase roll the

condom along his erection. I shouldn't have been surprised that it was magnificent, thick and glistening. It was Chase, after all. He was magnificent from head to toe. The size of his cock made me shudder both with some trepidation and with a thrill that warmed my entire body. Chase lowered himself down over me and nestled his legs between mine. I spread my thighs farther to accommodate him and gasped when the hard length of his cock rested against the mound of my pussy. He leaned on his elbows and took my face in his hands as he kissed me. It started with soft, soothing kisses. Slowly, his tongue slipped deeper and I parted my lips farther. Just seeing him naked and gloriously erect had begun a pool of moisture in my pussy, and his kisses only made me wetter. He shifted and I was sure this was it. I'd imagined it so many times and had heard so many accounts of the first time being a painful disappointment. I had mentally prepared myself for that. I shut my eyes and waited. Chase caught my comical display of cowardice. I felt his lips curl as he smiled against my mouth. "Macy, relax. Besides, with the way I've been thinking about this night and day, it feels like my first time too." I giggled. "Said the notorious playboy, Chase England." He lifted his face and stared down at me with a lift of his brow. "Really, have you ever Googled your name?" "I try to avoid it." He lowered his mouth to mine again. "Now focus." He rolled onto his side. "And by focus, I mean right here between your legs." His fingers pushed between the folds of my pussy, and he groaned appreciatively when he felt the hot moisture. "See, darlin', that's what I call focus." His thumb rubbed my clit, a nub of flesh that I had never considered much but that I now realized was very close to the center of the universe in a woman's body, and Chase knew how to rule that universe with just a flick of his thumb. Instantly, his touch made my pussy clench in jealousy. It needed attention too. I closed my eyes and a moan followed. I tightened my bottom and pushed my hips

higher, pleading with Chase. He complied. He slid his finger deep inside of me and used my clit to charge up the sensations that were now overwhelming my pussy. Each second brought me closer to climax. I opened my eyes, his eyes were glazed with passion. "But, Chase, I thought you were going to—" "Shh, concentrate my pure little sugar coated angel. I want you to come first. It's not easy the first time, and I don't want you to miss out." Seconds later, my head pushed back into the pillow and my body arched to absorb the hot vibrations that shuddered through my pussy and body. Before I could catch my breath, Chase's hard long body covered me. Again, he took my face in his hands and he kissed me lightly. My pussy still trembled with pleasure as the wide, fleshy tip of his cock ran along the folds and then gently pushed inside of me. It felt as if every muscle in Chase's body was tight with tension. That was when I understood what was happening. He was holding himself back, absorbing the agony all on his own, trying hard not to overwhelm me. "Chase," I whispered, "I'm not breakable. I want this. I want you." He lifted his mouth from mine and gazed down at my face, analyzing my reaction as he penetrated me inch by inch. God, he was huge. It seemed I would be stretched to capacity, and the idea of that, of Chase filling every inch of me, caused me to mewl in pleasure. Chase stopped. "Did I hurt you?" I couldn't help but smile. I curled my arm around his neck and brought his face down to mine. "Quite the opposite. I'm glad I didn't go with the beginner's kit. The advanced kit is working out just fine." I held him tightly with my arms as he pushed inside. A tiny sharp pain made me flinch but then it was just pure satisfaction. The emotional and physical charge I felt from knowing that our bodies were locked together in the most natural erotic connection on earth made me understand that I hadn't just been missing out on the fun of intimate pleasure. I had been missing out on that emotionally fulfilling connection too. But then would I have even had a connection with Trevor? I somehow doubted it. I placed my feet on the mattress to bring up my knees. Chase pushed one hand beneath my bottom, holding me firmly as he pumped his cock inside of me. Tender rippling waves, left behind by my orgasm, seemed to renew themselves as Chase filled me again and again. "Fuck, Macy, you're so tight, so beautifully tight." He moved a little harder and faster, no longer holding back as much. It seemed he'd passed that same place, that point of no return that he had so deftly introduced me to. The muscles in his back hardened and tensed under my fingers as he pushed inside of me once more. A low guttural sound between a groan and a grunt sounded in his throat, and he closed his eyes as he came. He lowered his mouth to mine as the tension flowed out of his body and his breathing slowed. He rested down next to me and pulled me to him. I snuggled my nose into his chest, breathing in his manly scent.

He rubbed his chin on the top of my head and tightened his arms around me. "How are you feeling?" I lifted my face and looked at him. "Complete. And a little underwhelmed." "Oh, sorry." "No, jeez, sometimes my word choice baffles me. I mean so many of my girlfriends warned me that it was painful and unpleasant and just altogether kind of boring. I'm underwhelmed about that because it was only a split second of pain, not at all unpleasant and I wasn't bored. Not even for a second. Of course, none of them had Chase England for their first experience." I ran my fingers along his strong jaw. "Or at least I don't think they did. But if the first three entries on Google are correct, I suppose it's mathematically possible." "A lot of exaggeration, I promise. Click bait is only successful if things are grossly overstated." I laughed. "I know. I'm kidding you. Was I your first virgin?" I asked. He slid his chin back and forth in thought. "Huh, now that you bring it up, yeah, you are. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen with the neighbor's babysitter. She was seventeen and knew what the heck she was doing, so I'm pretty sure she wasn't a virgin. Wait, no I take it back. My first real girlfriend in high school was a virgin. But since I didn't really know what the hell I was doing, she might just still be one. Not completely sure if everything connected right. We broke up the next morning. Her idea. I couldn't blame her for that. I was a clumsy clod in the backseat of my dad's car." "Then how are you feeling?" I asked, cuddling closer. He squeezed me in his arms. "Like a teenager, but far less clumsy."

Chapter Twenty-Four CHA SE

L ate afternoon had turned to evening while Macy and I slept. I heard her slip out

of bed and step into the shower as I drifted in and out of dreams. Now I could hear her in the kitchen. I climbed out of bed, pulled on my pants and walked out to the front room. "Something smells good." "I hope you don't mind, there were some eggs that were still usable and an onion and potatoes. I'm making a scrambled egg hash." I climbed up on the stool at the kitchen counter. Macy had pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. She quickly chopped an onion into perfect tiny cubes. I hopped off the stool. "Do you want some wine?" "Yes, please." I walked to the wine refrigerator and pulled out a bottle. I yanked out the cork and poured us each a glass. I handed her the wine and put my glass down because I badly needed to touch her. My hands wrapped around her tiny waist. "You wield a knife like a chef, but you sure as heck don't look like one." I kissed her shoulder. "How long does it take to cook that? I'm feeling more hungry than hungry, if you catch my meaning." My cock bulged in my jeans. I pressed it against her bottom. She laughed. "Yes, you make that meaning pretty clear." She put down the wooden spoon she'd been holding and spun around in my arms. “I'd say we could eat in twenty minutes. Does that work for you?" "Twenty minutes will be plenty of time." I took hold of her hand. "Oh, wait, let me turn off flames and things." She reached for the stove and laughed as she stretched her arm to the dials as I pulled her away. I led her back down the hallway. "The eggs might be rubbery and the potatoes mushy," she complained. "That's what happens when you decide to climb out of bed without my permission." I slapped the door open with my palm. "My mistake. Next time I'll ask permission." She scurried past me and jumped onto the bed with enthusiasm. She stood up on the mattress and whipped off her

shirt and bra. "I think I'm ready again. God, does that make me loose? I mean I just lost my virginity, and I'm ready to give it another go." I stood next to the bed and reached up to open her shorts. I pushed them down and her panties came with them. She hopped a few times to get free of her clothes and stumbled toward me with laughter. She wrapped her arms around my head. With her standing on the bed, my face came to her breasts. "Huh, I like this." I suckled on her nipples, bringing each one to attention. Then I lowered my mouth to her stomach and kissed her. I looked up at her. "Do you want to be on top this time? It gives you more control, in case you're sore." "On top? Control? Sounds fun. Why don't you just stretch that gorgeous man body out on the bed and let the master take over. But drop those pants first, buster. Haven't got all day." "And to think I worried about pushing you into this too fast," I quipped as I pushed my jeans off. I grabbed a condom from the nightstand and climbed onto the bed. I lowered my head to the pillows and rolled on the condom. I stretched my arms out. "Have your way with me, master, or should I say mistress. Just be gentle." Macy threw her leg over me and straddled my hips. She backed her ass up toward my erection as she lowered her body against mine. She kissed me and wriggled her bottom against my cock. I grabbed her hips to hold her there. "Thought I was in control," she said. "I lied." I lifted her up, and she positioned herself over me. I eased her down over me, my cock once again being swallowed by her perfectly snug little pussy. "Fuck, Macy, that feels so right." She bit her lip and pressed her hands against my chest, driving me deeper as she lowered herself down. "Does it hurt?" I asked. "The rush of good sensations far outnumber the bad." I impaled her to her core. I remained still after that, not wanting to push her too far, letting her have that control I'd mentioned. She braced her hands against my chest and rocked back and forth, feeling me inside of her, brushing over places that had never been touched. It took her no time to start working her clit against me. Her head lulled back and her long lashes fluttered closed as she concentrated on working her pussy over me. "Is it always like this?" she sighed. "When you're inside of me, I feel like we're so connected, like you can see inside of me and know my most intimate thoughts." She opened her eyes as she stretched back farther, taking in every inch of me. "It's not always like this, Macy." Her question had surprised me, and my reaction, the sudden realization that this was different for me, had stunned me even more. The truth was that I'd never felt this way with anyone. I held Macy's hips as she moved back and forth over me. I watched as her lips parted to release soft sounds. Her breasts pressed together as she pushed her hands against me. I moved my hands to her ass, to help her move. Her knees squeezed

against me as she sat straight up and lifted and fell over me, sheathing me with her tight pussy over and over again. Her breaths came in quick spurts. She leaned back down, pressing her hands against me for support. Her ass contracted in my hands, causing her pussy to tighten around my cock, milking me closer to orgasm. "Oh, Chase," she cried out as her pussy clenched, and her body trembled over me. The sound of her crying out my name pushed me off the cliff and my release came. Our bodies melted together in orgasm. She collapsed down onto my chest and rested her face against my shoulder. I smoothed my hands over her back as our heart rates slowed and the fevered heat between our bodies cooled. I held her like that for a long while, listening to her breathing slow and the occasional satisfied sigh ushering from her lips. She lifted her head and smiled down at me. "I think I'm getting pretty good at this." "I'd say you're a very fast learner." She lowered her head to my shoulder again. "That was well worth the prospect of rubbery eggs and mushy potatoes."

Chapter Twenty-Five M A CY

C hase pulled the car out onto the highway. I looked longingly back at the beach

house and then turned forward and slumped against the seat. "Ugh, after that I'm really not looking forward to going home for an afternoon of baking." I reached over and rubbed my fingers along Chase's arm. "Thank you for those blissful hours when I forgot about work and everything else. And thank you for . . . well, you know. I feel like I'm part of the adult world now." "It was my pleasure. And I mean that in every sense of the word." "What other things will you be putting in the Sweet Spot box? I assume there will be more to it than a piece of chocolate." "I haven't seen the final collection yet, but I will bring one to you as soon as it's finished. I think we could have some fun with it. In fact, I know we could." "I will look forward to it." The coastal fog had not lifted yet, and the beach looked dreary under the gray mist, but nothing could dampen my spirits. After going through some of the darkest days of my life recently, I felt like things were starting to work again. My pussy was still tender from the weekend. I hoped that feeling would linger for days to come, so I could relive it all in my dreams. "I was thinking, Macy, I could lease a bakery shop and let you run it. It would be a business investment for me, and you wouldn't have to bake out of your house and drag everything back and forth with you to the stand. You could even name it Sweet Spot." I stared over at him, trying to decide if he was serious. It seemed he was. "Thank you, Chase. It's a tempting offer, but I feel like I need to do this on my own. I'm starting to get a big following on social media. I think once I build up enough of a loyal customer base, I'm going to head to the bank and beg for a loan." "I don't blame you. You're right. You need to do this all on your own. But I can help you get in front of the right banker when you're ready for a loan." "I will probably take you up on that." I sat back and stared out the passenger window. I had so many mixed feelings about Chase. I was trying my hardest not to let myself get carried away. He wasn't the type to settle down with a single

girlfriend, and I was certainly not the type to want to be one of his special friends. My heart just couldn't deal with that. He seemed to sense what I was thinking. "Hey, Macy, I know you've read some stuff about my life, about my reputation. Probably most of it is true, but I just wanted you to know that—" His phone rang and the bluetooth turned on. The screen showed the name Zane. Chase touched the answer icon. "Hey, Zane, can I call you back later?" "No problem. Nothing important. I was just wondering if you ever popped the cherry on that sweet little virgin." Chase's hand shot out, and he hung up on his friend. He stared forward for a second. I could see his throat move as he swallowed hard. I kept my eyes trained on the road in front of us. "Macy," his voice broke through the cold cloud that had surrounded me. "Please, just take me home."

Chapter Twenty-Six CHA SE

M acy had sat so still in the passenger seat, looking so small and sad, that it made

me feel as if I'd taken an ice cold fist to the gut. I got out to walk her up to the house, but she raced to the door, trying to avoid me. I pulled her bag out and set it on the porch as she shuffled through her purse for the keys. "Macy, that's just guy talk. We're a bunch of idiots, you know that." "Thank you, Chase," I heard a small sniffle, and the sound of it went straight into my chest. "Can't we at least talk about it?" She found her keys and stared down at them for a second. I saw her shoulders lift with a deep breath and braced myself as she turned around. Her brown eyes were glassy, and I wanted to kick myself. The last thing she needed was to be hurt again by a thoughtless asshole, and I'd stepped right into her ex's asshole sized shoes. "It's fine, Chase. I was under no illusion that I would ever fit into your world. And this is for the best. I'm busy trying to make a go of things with a business, and frankly, having you around was putting a wrench in things. Now I can get back to concentrating on Sweet Spot. Good luck with your version of Sweet Spot." With that, she picked up her bag and went inside. I stood on the front stoop staring at the faded paint on the front door for a good long minute. "Fuck."

Chapter Twenty-Seven CHA SE

Z ane knocked on my office door as he entered it. "Hey, you going to the club

tonight?" "Nah, I'm not in the mood." I'd forgiven him for the stupid phone call mostly because he hadn't meant to fuck everything up. He was just being Zane, and he had no idea Macy was in the car with me. He'd also worked hard to make up for it by buying me lunch for the last two weeks. It still wasn't going to replace the hole that was now drilled into my heart, but I decided he at least owed me free burgers. He walked in and sat on the chair in front of my desk. "Hot date?" he asked with a hopeful tone. "Nope. Just me and Netflix and a six pack of beer." Zane dropped both feet to the ground. "Come on, man, you've got to get out of this funk." "Why?" "Cause you're dragging me down with it. I'm dealing with a whole shit load of guilt about that call." "Good. Hey, I was thinking about roast beef dips from that expensive bistro around the corner. And add in a dill pickle and two of those imported bottles of ale." He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. "You know what I don't get is how the hell it’s possible that Chase England, the guy who used to find phone numbers, love notes and, as I recall, panties inside his high school locker can't woo the one woman who seems to have finally taken hold of his heart." I shrugged. "She doesn't want anything to do with me." "Ever think that might be the reason you're so broken up about this? Maybe it's because you finally met a woman who could walk away from you." "That crossed my mind for all of a second. That's not it. Macy just had that certain something. Just like when Trey met Georgie, and he knew he'd met his match. I've met mine with Macy, only my match doesn't want me." Zane stood up. "You'll get past this, buddy. So beef dips, huh?" I pulled out my wallet. "Yeah, but my treat this time. I think you've paid for your

sins long enough." Zane picked up the money. "Think about going to the club tonight. Just isn't the same without you, and by that I mean, the women are more likely to swarm our table if we bring our shiny coin along." "I'll think about it."

Chapter Twenty-Eight M A CY

I parked my car around the corner from the plaza and stared out at the sheets of

water sliding down my windshield. Intermittent bursts of wind pelted the window with the same rain, only instead of sheets it came at me like small, clear bullets. The dark storm blocked out the early morning sun, giving the new day the look of a dark, dreary night. It had been the third rain storm in a month. And what a long month it had been. After the bad ending to my short relationship with Chase, I had to work hard not to run into him. I avoided looking toward his building, knowing that seeing him would only bring that aching thud back to my chest that I'd spent days trying to lose. Mostly, I didn't want to have to endure the hardship of seeing him walk in or out of his building with another woman. I'd even considered finding a new location for my stand, but George and Chuck insisted they would stand guard for me and keep me from any hardship. I was slowly learning how to protect my baked goods from rain during the journey to the kiosk. I had wrapped them in layers of plastic wrap and placed them in plastic tubs. But this morning's storm seemed extra menacing. The good news was that there would probably be very few customers. Unfortunately, that was the bad news too. I couldn't afford a day without revenue, and all the previous day's baking would be wasted. I pulled up the hood on my coat and stepped out into the deluge. The water in the gutter was already ankle deep. It swirled around my rain boots like an angry river. I stomped through it to my trunk and pulled out my foldable cart. It was a pain in the ass made an even a bigger pain by the terrible weather. Rain, wind and the stupid cart were all working against me. A good long string of cuss words and some determination helped me get everything out of the backseat. I rolled along the sidewalk, squinting into the rain and wind. The sidewalks were basically empty, which meant I was bound for an extremely slow morning. George and Chuck's stands were still closed. They never opened before nine, but something told me they might just sit today out. I pushed my cart across the plaza, barely able to open my eyes in the stinging

rain. My hood dropped forward over my face, making it even harder. Water rushed over the brick paved plaza and splashed against my boots, soaking my pants. I still had a good twenty foot trek when the wheel of my cart hit a place where the brick had been broken out by an earlier rainstorm. The cart stopped short. I fell hard against the handle, and my pastry boxes flew to the ground. It took me a minute to recover from having the handle on the cart jammed into my stomach. Tears stung my eyes as I hurried to the plastic boxes. The lids were still sealed shut, but I was certain the pastries inside no longer looked like pastries. Just then, a burst of wind whistled around the plaza, and the giant stack of napkins I had stored in a plastic bag on the bottom of the cart took off, littering the entire plaza. And since I'd boldly had the words Sweet Spot printed on the napkins there was no way to deny that they had come from my cart. I righted the pastry boxes and set out on a quest to retrieve all the stray napkins. I was chasing them like a kid chasing leaves, stomping on them and gathering them up in a wet, mushy bundle in my hands. I jumped on two particularly sneaky napkins and stooped down to pull them out from under my rain boot. As I straightened, a hand filled with napkins moved in front of me. "I saw you from my window. You looked like you could use some help." It seemed that I hadn't forgotten the sound of his voice because instantly my heart went into flutter mode. I took the napkins from his hand without looking up at him. I quickly took stock of just how terrible I looked drenched in rain and shrouded in a deep hood. I willed myself to look at him. He, of course, looked the opposite of terrible. Apparently, being wet did nothing to wash off his shine. In fact, with his dark hair slicked back and his shirt clinging to his wet skin, he looked ready for a magazine cover. "Thank you," I said. "Had a little cart mishap." Chase helped me collect the rest of my runaway napkins. Then he helped me get the cart safely to my stand. He lifted the plastic boxes off the cart and put them under the shelter of the kiosk. He combed his wet hair back with his fingers, and I couldn't help but notice that his pecs looked especially good under the wet fabric of his shirt. "Well, I'll head back inside." He looked out at the empty plaza. "Good luck today. Looks like you might need it." "Thanks. Yes, I'd say today I'll be finding out who my loyalist fans are." He smiled. Darn it, I missed that smile. He nodded and walked away. It took me a minute to remember how the hell to set up for the day. Chase's presence had thrown off my morning even more than the rain and the cart accident. Cold, wet and now emotionally stunned, I moved in slow motion to the coffee station and was about to get started when I heard footsteps slapping the wet cement. Chase was back. He stood in the rain, no hat, no coat, just his soaking wet clothes and hair. "It wasn't some game, Macy. I wasn't trying to put a notch in my belt with you. I liked you. A lot. And that hasn't changed. I still think about you all

the time. Just wanted to make that clear." I stood frozen in place, watching him walk back across the plaza, and I wondered what the odds were that I would ever meet a man like Chase again. A billion to one. Those were the odds, give or take a few billion. I dashed around the edge of the cart and ran toward him, splashing rain water in every direction with each step. He heard me and spun around just in time for me to leap into his wet arms. "I like you too, Chase England. A lot." His arms held me tightly as I pressed my lips against his for a very rain soaked kiss.

Chapter Twenty-Nine CHA SE

Two months later

I stood on Macy's stoop with a dozen red roses and a Sweet Spot box under my arm.

I walked inside and handed her the roses. "Lovely flowers for the newly financed bakery owner." She took the flowers and breathed in their fragrance before scurrying off to the kitchen for a vase. "I still can't believe they gave me the loan. I went right over to the real estate office and signed the lease on the shop. It's perfectly set up since it used to house a bakery." I placed the box on the coffee table. "I'm excited for you, Macy. I know this is what you wanted more than anything." She returned to the living room with the vase of flowers and set them down on the coffee table next to the box. "Sweet Spot. How did it go over with the customers?" "They loved it. The chocolate was a hit too. We're thinking of adding a different treat in each box." "Good idea. Sweets and sex, doesn't get any better than that." She lifted the lid and looked inside. "Oh wow, so this is what comes in a Plaything box. What's this?" "That is our newest toy. It helps with your sweet spot." I walked over and took the clit vibrator from her hand. "I'll show you how it works. Turn around." She turned around. I walked up behind her, my cock already hard just thinking about using the toy on her. I reached around and unbuttoned her shorts, and they dropped to the ground. She flinched when I turned on the device. It was a palm sized vibrator that concentrated just on stimulating the clit. "The women in the office gave this high marks." I leaned down and kissed her neck as I reached down and pushed it between her legs. She sucked in a sharp breath and then slowly melted against me. "Uh huh, that's definitely a sweet spot." Macy rested her head back against me. "Gosh, a girl hardly even needs a man

with these kinds of devices around." "That's what you think, darlin'." I turned it off and dropped it on the table. She laughed wildly as I picked her up, put her over my shoulder and carried her down the hall to the bedroom.

COMING SOON

More from Tess Oliver

Loved Sweet Spot? Ready for more? Zane’s story is up next in In a Bind. Don’t miss Plaything Book 1, Easy Come ~Now Available.

In the meantime, keep reading for a sneak peek at the first chapter of Tess’s new release, Brothers.

Copyright © 2017 by Tess Oliver Cover Image: Lane Dorsey Cover Models: Josh Mario John & Taylor David This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. All Rights are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Chapter One JO E L L E

T he hum of the guitar and the song in my head were my escape, two to three

minutes of time when I could pretend I was someone else, a singer on a stage, a voice in a choir. For a spring day, it was bitterly cold. The bright blue sky had fooled me into leaving our squalid little house without my sweatshirt. And as my tiny sidewalk audience peeled away, some leaving dollar bills in my guitar case, others just leaving with a polite nod, my human shield against the brisk air fell away too. The chilled breeze felt brittle against my skin as I quickly shoved the bulk of the money in the pocket of my shorts. I saved a few extra in my fist to hide in the secret pouch inside the case. Those extras would go into my secret stash, the stash that would eventually buy my freedom. All I needed was enough to rent a room for a month while I looked for a job, a room far away from here and far away from Bobby. I couldn't remember the day it happened, the day I became his possession rather than his significant other. Just like I couldn't remember the day when he had crossed that line from being a pleasant, almost loving human to being a hateful monster. It's entirely possible I'd just been blinded by his good looks and swagger and that the beast had been lurking there all along, just waiting to rear its ugliness. Now when I looked at Bobby, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever thought him handsome. He was far too mean to be anything but hideous. I stooped down to pack away my guitar, the one possession of mine that Bobby hadn't hauled off to the pawn shop to pay his bookie or his dealer. I stuffed my pick and the spare dollars into the velvet pouch on the side of the case. Behind me, tires crunched the asphalt. A loud blaring horn followed, startling me forward onto my knees. "Joelle, let's go. I don't have all fucking day." Even though I was just four feet from his jeep, he laid on the horn again. The young couple who had stopped to listen to my song looked back toward the clamor before disappearing into the coffee shop. Shep, the hyper, bug-eyed man who ran the corner market, popped his head out the door to see what the noise was about. He blanched and tucked his head back in the second he saw Bobby's black jeep. Most of the locals had the same reaction whenever Bobby or one of his equally

hated friends showed their faces in town. I pushed to my feet, picked up my guitar case and willed myself to turn around. Bobby had his black cap pulled low over his head and his lips were pulled into a thin line under his moustache. The phrase 'oh, how the mighty have fallen' splashed through my mind. It had been one of many phrases my foster mom, Lolly, used to chant with her sing-song Jamaican accent, and it was extra fitting for the man in the jeep. I'd considered myself the luckiest girl at Branson High when I'd attracted the eye of Robert Dell, star athlete and most popular senior. I was only a sophomore, which made it an even bigger deal. My friends were nearly sick with envy when I was invited to sit at his lunch table, with all the senior big shots. I thought I'd won the golden ticket that year. But when Bobby's football career didn't pan out due to a bad knee injury and the glory days of high school had to be left behind for the harsh reality of adult life, popular, shiny Bobby Dell slowly morphed into the scowling, angry asshole sitting behind the jeep steering wheel. I supposed that was the reason I couldn't pinpoint a day when he'd crossed that line. It had been a slow transformation, one that had caught me off guard. Slow enough to allow myself a few delusional moments of thinking the charming, pleasant Bobby would return some day. But I knew now he was gone for good, and even if the high school hero miraculously appeared again, it was too late. Nothing could redeem him now. Bobby's black hat poked out the window as he leaned through it. He slapped the roof of the jeep. "Move it, slowpoke." I shuffled toward the jeep and put my guitar in the backseat. As I climbed into the front seat, his big hand shot out. With a huff of frustration, I stretched up and pulled the money from my pocket and then slapped it on his palm. He quickly counted it before folding the stack and putting it in his own pocket. "Forty fucking dollars? You must have been singing off key today." His laugh was like nails on a chalkboard to my ears. I ignored him, something I was getting good at, and reached into my pocket for a rubber band. I swept up my dark brown hair into a ponytail and pulled it through the band. I knew Bobby was watching me, but I stared straight ahead and waited for him to put the jeep in gear. "What the fuck is this?" His rough fingers touched my neck. I reacted as if he'd jabbed me with a hot poker. The jeep shifted from side to side as he twisted his massive torso and reached across the seats. He grabbed roughly hold of my arms and wrenched my body toward him before pushing me so that my back smacked the door handle. My head bounced off the glass. "What are you doing?" I cried the second I caught my breath. His angry blue eyes skewered me. "Who the hell gave you that hickey? I need his name so I can put my fist through his face." I grabbed at his fingers, but he was too strong. Terror flashed through me as I realized how easily he could kill me with just his bare hands. Then fear turned to

rage. "It was you, asshole. You were so fucking drunk that you don't even remember." A sob burst from my mouth. "And in case you were wondering, I hated every fucking minute of it." My words stunned him at first, and I was sure he didn't believe me. But it was the truth. My stomach turned sour just thinking about his hands and mouth on me. He clenched his jaw tightly, and his blue eyes felt like pointed daggers on my face. The tight anger in his face slipped away. It seemed his disgusting attack on me the night before was coming back to him. I was almost certain I caught a glimmer of an apology in his face as he released me. I rubbed his fingerprints from my arms as I shifted back against the seat. I blinked several times to keep the tears from falling. He threw the jeep into gear and pulled out onto the road. "I need to go by Tim's house, then I'll take you home." He spoke casually as if he hadn't just grabbed and thrown me against the car door or accused me of sleeping around. His rock-filled head no longer allowed him to see when he was wrong, or for that matter, horrid. "Just drop me off first. I don't want to sit in the jeep for an hour while you two get high." "Not taking you home first. Just come inside to hang out with us. I haven't seen you all morning." He reached over and tried to take hold of my hand. I quickly pulled it out of his reach. We turned the corner just as the safety rails on the train tracks started blinking. The woman in front of us slowed as the arms came down. Bobby smacked his horn. "Come on, lady. We could have both made it." I could see the woman's angry scowl in her rearview mirror as she looked up to see who was rudely honking. Her eyes pulled quickly away as she discretely reached over to lock her car door. Bobby had no choice but to stop. It was noon, which meant it was the northbound freight train. Bobby stretched up out of his open window to get a look at the train. It was still a half mile away. The jeep wobbled as he sat back inside. "Fuck. At least three engines so it's a long one." He raised his middle finger for the woman in front of him to see. "Yeah you, bitch. I should just nudge that stupid little car of yours right onto the tracks." He grunted. "Looks like we'll be here awhile. You were gone when I woke this morning, and my dick has been hard since then." He reached over and grabbed my hand before I had a chance to move it. His fingers tightened around my wrist as he unzipped his pants with his free hand. "Why don't you blow me while we're waiting." With some effort, I pulled my arm free. "You've got to be fucking kidding." "I'm not kidding." He reached in and pulled his erection free. "Come on, baby. That train'll take forever." "Not a chance in hell." I reached for the door handle. A scream shot from my mouth as he took hold of my ponytail and yanked it. I fell backward. My shoulder landed hard on the stick shift.

"You fucker!" Adrenaline helped me sit up. I held my breath against the pain and lunged for the door handle. I jumped free of the jeep. "Where you gonna go, Joelle? Just get back in. Get in the fucking jeep." His booming voice bellowed behind me like angry thunder but my feet kept going. I ducked beneath the candy cane striped safety rail and stopped just inches from the track. I closed my eyes to feel the vibrations under my feet. More than once I'd stood in front of the rails, straddling my bicycle, absorbing the feel and smell of the train as it swept past. On my darkest days, days where it seemed shadows always outmaneuvered daylight, I tried to imagine what it would feel like to step in front of the train. It had to be a quick, almost painless death. Instant. One bone crushing blow and it would all be over. I looked back. As if she'd just read my macabre thoughts, the woman in the first car watched me with round, terror-filled eyes. The train was torpedoing in my direction. The narrow engineer's window looked like a single glass eye above an oversized nose as the train barreled toward me. "Damn it, Joelle, get back in the jeep." I looked back. Bobby was lumbering toward me with nostrils wide enough to suck in a baseball. The vibrations beneath my feet grew stronger. My heart beat so hard, I could hear it over the roar of the train. The train was close enough for me to see the blue hat on the engineer's head. His eyes mirrored the same look of horror as the woman in the car. Birds perching on the electrical lines fluttered off as the powerful engine rocked the ground and split the surrounding air. As Bobby ducked his massive frame beneath the safety rails, I whispered to myself, "enough, Joelle, enough". My feet leapt forward, and I jumped across the tracks. My ponytail swept sideways and grit from the track pelted my bare legs as the train whirred past behind me. I took several clumsy steps forward, pushed by the violent rush of air. I swung back around. Bobby was gone, stuck on the other side of the train. I looked down toward the tail end of the freight cars. I had about five minutes before the caboose waddled past and the moving fortress of iron and steel keeping me safe from Bobby disappeared. I could run, but I had no place to hide. Then, in the long parade of olive green, gray and red freight cars, I spotted a boxcar with a wide open door. As frantic thoughts crisscrossed my brain, Lolly's clear words came through the chaos. She used to chant them whenever I won a race at a track meet. "My precious Joelle, my little Joey, you sing like an angel, but you run like the devil is chasing ya." I started walking along with the train and then picked up to a jog, continuously glancing back to look for my magic carpet, the empty boxcar. The jog turned to a full out run. As my shoes pounded the hard ground, the tender spot on my shoulder throbbed, reminding me of the reason I was chasing a train. I looked over just as the open door reached me. I jumped up, grabbed hold of the edge and landed, belly first, on that same edge of the car. The pain in my gut was sharp but disappeared quickly as I swung my legs up and into the boxcar.

I sat on my knees and looked around at my surroundings. It wasn't exactly a richly woven carpet with gold tassels like the one in the Disney movie but it would do. The walls smelled damp and sour as if they'd been soaked in a vinegar brine, and they were covered with graffiti, messages and mementos from people who had traveled before me. Aside from a small pile of wadded up newspaper, two broken pallets and an empty coffee cup rolling from side to side, the boxcar was empty. The wood planks lining the floor had enough space between them that cool, diesel scented air floated up between the cracks. I could see the tracks race by in a continuous blur. It took some skill and concentration to get to my feet, especially as the train began to accelerate in speed as it left the city behind. I walked to the opening and held tightly to the edge of the door. The air cooled my face as I leaned my head out and looked back toward town. Bobby had stomped across the tracks, and his thick neck twisted above his shirt collar as he looked frantically around for me. I pulled my eyes away and a laugh shot from my mouth at the image of the jerk marching through town searching for me. I walked to the back wall of the car, sat down on the splintery floorboards and wrapped my arms around my knees. The train chugged along. From the slight lilt of the boxcar, I could tell we were heading north toward the mountain pass. The landscape grew less civilized. The right corners of buildings and signs were slowly replaced by long stretches of tall grasses and fields. I had no idea where I was going or what I would do once I got there. I had nothing. No money. No job. Nobody. Not even my guitar. But none of that mattered. I was free.

CONTINUE READING BROTHERS . . .