Crave (16 page)

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Authors: Violet Vaughn

BOOK: Crave
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Chapter 36

I slither into the tight dress. Black with a slight scoop neck, I opted for no cleavage tonight considering I’m going to be with Boobs-R-Us. The sleeves are sheer lace and make my arms look long. Pulling my hair forward, I look at the effect. My makeup is sexy and my curls are cooperating. I do a quick turn to make sure the thong doesn’t show through and flash to my dream the other night. Desire twinges.

Now for the hook. I slide violet patent-leather heels onto my feet. Not too high to walk, but high enough that I’m all legs. Oh yeah, that works. The eye is drawn to the color, and you can’t help but notice my toned calves. I lean into the mirror and slide on a touch more coral-pink lipstick.

I’m jittery with excitement. I want to drink with the girls tonight. I should be okay to drive if I do it early. But I decide to pack an overnight bag just in case I have too much. I can always crash at Tara’s if I need to.

Base pulses through the stairs as I step up to Tara’s apartment. With music that loud, I don’t bother to knock. The door opens to the smell of all things girl. Tara walks out of the kitchen area with a tray. “Casey! You’re just in time for Jell-O shots.” She hands me a little paper cup filled with red Jell-O and whipped cream. Her perfume accosts my nose as she breezes by handing them out to Megan, Lisa, and Jill. Tara raises her cup and says, “To dancing until the cows come home!” Why not? I slurp the sweet contents down.

Megan gives me a hug. “Casey, you’re looking hot. I love your shoes.”

Megan is looking darn hot herself. She has on a tight fuchsia dress that looks fabulous with her dark blond hair and blue eyes. “Wow, you’re smoking too. Did Nick see you in that outfit?”

“He did.” She pauses. “Both times I put it on.” She winks at me and then blushes.

I chuckle. “You hussy! How’s playing house?”

“It’s awesome. No more driving back and forth to each other’s place. I love it.” Megan has a wine cooler in her hand.

Perfect. Not too strong. I need to pace myself. “Hey, did you bring enough of those that I could have one?”

“Of course! I’ll go get it for you.” Megan heads to the fridge.

I turn to Lisa and Jill. They both work with Tara. “Casey, you’ve got to try the Irish whiskey cheddar we just got. It melts in your mouth.” Jill’s warm brown eyes are glowing tonight. Lisa hands me a piece. “Try it.”

I’m not the least bit hungry, but I should eat something. I nibble it. The soft cheddar starts off with a bite and ends smoothly. “Oh, yum.”

Megan slips a cold wine cooler into my hand. “Are we talking about food again?” She reaches over and takes a slice of apple. I do too.

The apple is tart, making my mouth water. I take a sip of the wine cooler, and the sweetness balances the flavor. Tara starts to dance and we all join her. She yells, “Ladies, I think we need to do some fishing!”

***

The staccato clicking of stiletto heels on the sidewalk sounds like distant fireworks. With alcohol pulsing through our veins, our voices are high and loud. When we enter The Fish Bowl, the darkness tries to damper us. It can’t. We radiate a level of energy that could drown the strong.

Tara takes the lead and works her way over to the bar. “Five Jelly Beans, please!”

Uh-oh. I’m not doing shots. I exchange looks with Megan. She leans in to the bartender and says, “Make that three, please. We’ll take two wines with seltzer.”

“Thanks.”

“No worries. I don’t think Nick would be impressed if I came home and threw up.”

Lisa and Jill have found us a table near the dance floor. Tara walks over with the shots while Megan and I trail her. Sweat laced with perfume and cologne and the faded red spotlights swirling around create a sensual atmosphere. The throaty beat calls me. I set down my drink and grab Megan’s hand. “C’mon.”

Music flows over me and I begin to move. I let it seep into my pores. I gyrate my hips and sexual energy reverberates through my body. I close my eyes and let it take over. When I open them, I see a guy dance behind Megan, his hands on her hips as they sway. I smell a familiar mix of male and woodlands. My core begins to pulse with the music. Jason. Hands land on my hips, and I don’t have to turn around to know who’s behind me. I don’t want to anyway. We’ve done this a million times. I know how to move, and so does he. I’m dying to lean back into him. I don’t. I’m not sure what might happen if I did. The heat of exertion, and something else, drives my movements. I tremble with hunger and feed it with music. His hands are light on me, but their presence sears. I don’t ever want to stop. Megan looks over at me. She tilts her head toward our table. I turn to Jason and say, “Thanks.”

Once back at the table, Megan leans in toward me and speaks over the music. “That guy was totally turned on by you. Oh, my God, you should have seen his face. It’s a good thing he barely touched you. I might have had to go all ninja on him to protect Blaine’s honor.” She laughs.

“I’m pretty sure the guy dancing with you liked what he saw, too.” Cool wine pours down my throat in a gulp.

“Well, we’re definitely hot.” She places her cold drink on her neck.

On the dance floor Tara keeps some guy occupied, and he looks flustered. Not in a good way. Part of me wants to go save him. “Megan, look.”

“Oh, that poor guy. Should we save him?”

I nod my head, and we both go dance with Tara.

As the night progresses, the floor get packed. It’s hard to stay together, and I lose Megan. It doesn’t matter. It’s hard to talk, and I’m happy to focus on the music. After the first dance, Jason disappeared. But he’s back on the floor now. He’s seen me and makes his way over. I’m sweating and a little buzzed. This time when he puts his hands on my hips, firm pressure is applied. I move back closer to him, and his scent envelopes me. I have no doubt he smells me too. He speaks in my ear. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks.” I want to tell him he looks hot. But I don’t. He brushes up against me, and I know he’s hard. I want to push back further and feel all of him. Oh, God, maybe I will attack him after all. In my mind, his hands touch me everywhere. My lips burn with the thought of his, and I wish I could take him right here on the dance floor. Instead, I keep dancing.

We hear last call, and I know I have to find the girls. I stop dancing and turn to face him. “I’ve got to go. Thanks.” Without thinking I add, “I’ve missed you.” I’m so tempted to kiss him, and I look at his lips. I suck in my lower lip, and he does the same. His eyes are full of lust. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to walk away.

I can’t find anyone, but that’s not unusual. It’s every woman for herself this time of night. I know how to get into Tara’s apartment. My heels tap on the sidewalk. Lisa and Jill drive toward me and slow down. Lisa leans out the window and yells, “Tara took someone home. You don’t want to go up there!” I wave at her and smile as they drive away. Crap. I didn’t think to stop them. Drunk, there’s no way I should drive. I pull out my phone and hope I can catch Megan. She sent me a text earlier.

“I miss Nick. I know, pathetic. Gone home.”

I let out a big sigh and start walking back to find someone I know. Jason stops next to me. The window lowers to reveal wet hair stuck to his face. He’s flushed, and his scent reaches my nose. Damn if my body doesn’t prepare to assault.

“Hey, lose your friends?”

“Something like that. I shouldn’t drive. Would you give me a ride home?” I think I might regret this, but right now I don’t care.

He pushes the door open for me. I hop up, slam the door, and snap the seat belt in place. It’s like an old friend’s embrace. The odor of his truck is a mix of dirt, stale coffee, and cut pine. I reach down and take off my shoes. My feet are killing me. He chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“Your feet stink.”

“Charmer.” I snort.

“Does your boyfriend know about those feet?” He’s still smiling.

“Oh, you’re a comedian. Not only does he know, he massages them after a long ski day.”

Pain flickers in his eyes, before his face gets serious. “What did you eat today?”

“What? I’m not trashed, Jason. Just a little buzzed.” I sniff my shoe. It does stink.

“I know. That’s not why I’m asking. So tell me, what did you eat today?”

I haven’t missed the food police. But I know one thing; he won’t stop until I tell him, so I might as well get this over with. I think for a minute. “Coffee, half a sandwich, cheese, and an apple.” Okay, so he doesn’t need to know it was a tiny piece of cheese and one slice of apple. I add, “Hey, at least it’s not junk.”

“There’s that.” He pauses. “What’s going on? Something’s wrong. You’re skinny and not eating.” There’s concern in his voice.

Oh man, tears pool in my eyes. “I’m fine.” My voice cracks and gives me away.

Warm fingers wrap around my hand. “Casey.” His voice is soft, and my tears start to fall.

I snap open his glove box in search of a tissue. He has three packages. I take one out and look over at him. “Tired of snot on your shirt?”

He chuckles.

The truck groans as he puts it in park. The seat belt snaps back as he turns to me. “Come here.” He opens his arms.

I unbuckle and slide over. He pets my hair as I cry, and I breathe in the musky-wood scent of him. Each stroke sends a jolt to my heart. I look up into his eyes. Their color is deep in the darkness of the night. My eyes fall to his lips, and I want to kiss him. I bite my lip in reflex, tamping down the impulse. I reach up and touch his mouth with my fingers. He pushes me away. “You need to get back on your side of the truck.” His voice is husky. He holds his head for a moment and then takes my shoulders. “Really, I need you to move.”

I move over with a questioning look in my eyes.

“Hey. You’re just a little too tempting that close.” He shifts in his seat. “So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

You’re pretty tempting yourself. “I can’t. I just can’t.” I pick up my shoes and my purse. “Thanks for the ride.” The door creaks open, and I slide off the leather seat. The gravel in the driveway hurts my feet, but I walk on it anyway. I wave and let myself in as headlights swing away.

Chapter 37

“Can you give me a ride into town for my car?”
I text Megan instead of Blaine. I can’t face him yet.

“Sure. Be over in a bit.”

I pace. What the hell is wrong with me? I think I would have slept with Jason last night. Heaven knows I wanted to. If he hadn’t stopped me? And the sex dreams I had? Whew. I sure have some imagination. I want to call Gretchen.

Megan pulls into the driveway. I jog out to her car and open the door. When I’m sliding into the seat she says, “So catch me up. What happened after I left last night?”

“Tara took some guy home, and I was too drunk to drive. I got a ride home with Jason.” I pull on the seatbelt.

“Who’s Jason?”

Oh boy. “Remember that first guy I was dancing with last night?” She’s turned around and backs up.

“What? Really?” She stops in the middle of the street and looks at me in shock.

“Yup, and it gets juicier. He’s my ex-boyfriend from Vermont.”

Driving forward she says, “Oh, my God. He’s the one that moved here and is teaching with us next winter, right?”

I don’t say anything.

“I think Blaine is great and all, but I’m your friend first. We girls have to stick together. Whatever you tell me doesn’t even make it to Nick. Okay?”

“Thanks. I think of you the same way.”

“So I guess you still kind of like Jason, don’t you? I saw the way you looked when you were dancing with him.” Her voice is sympathetic.

“I do. Nothing happened last night. But there’s still a spark.”

“Whoa. What about Blaine?” She pauses. “I mean if he’s the one, then you shouldn’t be affected by Jason at all. Right?”

“Right. I think. It’s complicated.” I sigh. “Crap, what do I do?” I hear the desperation in my voice.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But I’m here for you no matter what.”

Chapter 38

I pull up to a blue house with a white picket fence and a cottage garden full of color. I put my Saab in park and gather my camera gear. Stepping back, I take in the overall image. White shutters accent a dark-stained oak door on this saltbox. The New England feel appeals to this displaced East Coaster. The slate walk is set with grass growing between the irregular slabs. I notice a child-sized table and chairs on the front porch. A family lives here.

Entering the house, I smell the faint scent of cinnamon and apple. I set up the video camera and let it do its thing. Off to the left is the dining room, painted a pale yellow. I imagine Thanksgiving dinner with loved ones. In the back are the kitchen and a family room, but I don’t go there yet. On the right is a set of stairs for the second level. My video is done, and I take pictures in the kitchen. Bright and cheery letter magnets hold a child’s artwork on the fridge. The window over the sink looks into the back yard. I picture a mother preparing dinner and keeping an eye on her kids as they run and play on the swing set. Off to the right is the family room with a big TV and a fireplace.

This is the kind of house I want for my family. I take my time walking up to the second floor. There are framed photographs along the wall. I think of Clara and her children. Various stages of the family’s life are on this wall. I’m almost at the top when the agent enters the front door.

“Hi, Casey.” A trim woman in her thirties, she is dressed in navy slacks, a button-down shirt, and blazer.

“Hi, Sandy.” Sandy is Mr. Jones’s daughter. She’s a good agent and often comes to the shoot with me to get the images she knows will sell the house. Working together, we capture the essence, and it’s probably why she does so well.

“So what do we see here?” She has walked into the kitchen and I follow.

“I see a house that would appeal to a family from the East Coast. It has ocean charm and feels like a happy home for children. Are they leaving the swing set? If so, we should get a back yard shot.”

“Interesting. Because I’m not sure it’s a happy home.” She looks out into the back yard.

“Really? Why?”

“It’s being sold because of a divorce. I hear it’s a nasty one. It had something to do with a horrible secret hidden for many years. You sure wouldn’t know from the looks of things, would you?”

“Wow. That makes it kind of creepy here now.” I hug my shoulders.

Sandy says, “It makes me sad to see people live a lie. They create a life based on it, but if it isn’t real? At some point the whole thing crumbles down around them like a house of cards.”

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