How to Love (9 page)

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Authors: Kelly Jamieson

BOOK: How to Love
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She was nervous.

He smiled as he took the drink. “Thanks.”

“So you’ve never been to Star,” she said, pouring a little more wine in her own glass.

“Uh-uh. I hear it’s really good though.”

“It is.”

“You’ve been there before.”

“Oh yeah, quite a few times actually.”

The idea of her going there on dates with other guys bugged him a little. His gaze shifted down to the hint of cleavage revealed by the V of her dress. Nice.

“Okay,” he said, setting his drink on her granite counter with a sharp clink. “Let’s do this now.”

“What?” She blinked at him as he moved toward her.

“This.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her up against him, using one hand to tip her chin up, and bent his head to kiss her.

He gently moved his lips over hers, and after about two seconds her body softened in his arms and she sighed into his mouth. Oh yeah. He cupped her face with his hand and dragged his tongue over her bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly. “That.”

“Yeah.” He smiled down at her. “I wanted more of that since last night.”

He slid his nose down along the side of hers, closing his eyes, breathing her in. And he kissed her again. This time her arms slid around his neck and pulled him closer as her body pressed into his, her soft breasts against his chest. He eased his hand down her throat, over the side of her neck and then behind and into her cloud of soft hair. Her mouth opened beneath his and he slid his tongue in, tasting the fruity red wine and her own sweetness as their tongues touched. Her breath hitched and his dick surged to life, heat sliding through his veins. Oh man. Oh man.

They’d both known this was how the evening was going to end. So he’d decided to ease some of the tension by starting off this way too, but holy hell, he was going to burst into flames if they didn’t stop, and they’d never make it to the restaurant.

Which wasn’t such a bad idea. Who the hell cared about gourmet cuisine when he had this in his arms?

But he had plans and he always stuck to his plans.

She made a little noise in her throat that was so sexy it was all he could do to pull his lips away from hers and rest his forehead against hers. “Wow,” he whispered.

“Yeah. Wow.” She paused. “Wanna skip dinner?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “But no. I want to wine and dine you.”

“Oh. That’s so nice.”

“I’m trying.”

He lifted his head and they smiled at each other, their eyes meeting and holding in a long attenuated look of snapping heat.

“You’re a good kisser,” she said, loosening her arms from around his neck and taking a step back. She picked up her glass of wine and downed the rest of it. He grinned.

“Thanks.”

“Okay. Well.” She ran her hands through her hair, which seemed to be in a perpetually tousled state anyway, and licked her lips, almost undoing his plans yet again. “I should get my purse and we should go. It’ll only take a few minutes to get there.”

He drank the rest of his wine as he watched her leave the room, admiring the way the dress hugged the shape of her ass. He took a deep breath. Christ. How the hell was he going to make it through the next few hours of restaurant foreplay?

 

 

“So your family lives in San Diego. That’s not too far away.”

“Far enough,” she said. She scooped up the last piece of cheesecake with her dessert fork and popped it into her mouth. “That’s why I’m here.”

He tipped his head to one side. “You don’t get along with them?”

“You could say that.”

“How come?”

“Pffft. Long story.” She waved a hand.

“Just your parents? No brothers or sisters?”

“It’s my dad and his wife. My mom died when I was seventeen. They have two little girls now.” Her tone softened as she mentioned her half-sisters.

His eyes remained fastened on her. “Is it the stepmom you don’t get along with?”

She ran her tongue over her top teeth, beneath her lip. “It’s both of them.”

“I guess it’s hard when one parent remarries. Did it happen soon after your mother died?”

“Before.” At his raised eyebrows, she explained, “My parents split up a couple of years before my mom died.”

“Oh.”

He apparently waited for her to tell him more, but her mother and her father and his wife were not her favorite topics of conversation. She looked at Mike across the table. The soft lighting in the restaurant and the glow of the candle on the table highlighted his face with gold, outlining his strong bone structure, shadowing his eyes. He flashed the boyish smile that made Jules’s breath catch.

“I still wish you’d pose for me.”

His gaze flickered at her change of topic, and he tipped his head to one side. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You keep saying that.”

She bent her head briefly. He’d been so sweet to her, taking her on tours with him so she could take pictures. And she appreciated it, she really did. She’d gotten some great images. She’d spent hours on her computer working on them, narrowing the many down to a few select ones that she would have printed and then would frame and hang in the gallery. But in the last couple of weeks, she’d sold more of her nudes and even after bringing out a few framed ones she’d kept in the back, her selection had seriously dwindled.

She could go back into her files and pick more images from the shoots she’d already done. She always took a lot of photos, so there were many to choose from, but she tried to limit the number of prints of each image she sold, to make them a little more special. She sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

Shit. She’d sighed out loud. “Nothing.”

“Why, Jules?”

She blinked at him, her fingers playing with a fork on the table. “Why what?”

“Why is it so important to you? I know it’s not because I’m so spectacularly good looking.”

She gave him a lopsided smile. “Yes, you are.”

He snorted. “Seriously.”

She dropped her gaze to the tablecloth. “It’s not that big a deal. I’d just like some fresh material for the gallery.”

He reached across and stilled her fingers where they fluttered over the cutlery. “Jules.”

She watched his big, tanned hand curl over her smaller fingers. The warmth of his skin seeped into her hand and she felt his strength. It was nice.

“Look at me.”

She lifted her gaze, a little surprised at his command. She met his eyes, dark tonight in the dimly lit restaurant.

“Why are you avoiding answering me about this?”

She gave him what she hoped was one of her mocking smiles. “Avoiding you? Why would I do that?”

“That’s what I want to know. You keep saying it’s not a big deal, and yet…I get the feeling it’s important to you. I just want to know why.”

“Will it help convince you to do it?” She kept her lips curled into that smile.

The server arrived to clear away the empty plate of the dessert they’d just shared. After an incredible dinner of tequila lime prawns and chili chocolate chicken, they’d shared creamy cheesecake flavored with chai tea, cinnamon, ginger and cloves. Not only had the food been amazing, but it seemed like the last two and a half hours had sped by with all the conversation and laughter. But now he was asking those questions again, like he did sometimes, asking her about things she didn’t want to talk about.

“I don’t know,” he said. “You know I feel weird about it.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you could find a hundred guys who’d want to take their clothes off for you.”

Her smile widened. “Probably true. But they don’t want their pictures taken either.”

A shadow passed over his eyes and his mouth firmed. Was it because he didn’t like the idea of her being with other guys? That was never a good sign.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked abruptly.

“Yes.” Oh yes. All through dinner she’d wanted to go back to her place and finish what he’d started. But suddenly the vibe between them had changed from relaxed and sexy fun to stiff and tense. Shit. She’d figured for sure she was going to get lucky tonight and now she’d ruined it.

She pushed back her chair but not before he’d already come around to help her. Such a gentleman. There weren’t many guys who treated her so…carefully. Considerate, gentle…respectful. It was enough to make her feel all soft and mushy.

She hardened her heart as they walked out of the elegant restaurant, Mike’s hand warm on the small of her back. Mike was the kind of guy she shouldn’t get involved with, but the weird thing was, over the last two weeks he hadn’t even made a move on her until that kiss last night after the movie. She’d started to let her guard down, to feel at ease with him. She liked him. And hell yeah, she wanted to sleep with him.

So even though she had a little flutter of nerves inside her at the thought of getting involved with him, she’d been all set to do the mattress mambo with him. And looking forward to it. Now, disappointment filtered down through her.

Outside in the cool night air scented with the tang of the ocean nearby, they strolled down the sidewalk to where Mike had parked his car. He opened the passenger door first and handed her in, then crossed around the hood of the car.

“What did I say that pissed you off?” she asked him coolly a few minutes later when he’d turned onto Shore Drive.

He sighed, his mouth tight. “It’s not what you said. It’s what you don’t say.”

She frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I ask you questions about yourself and you change the subject or turn it into another question or basically avoid answering.”

She slumped a little in her seat, thinking about that. “Well. Um. What did you want to know?”

“I want to know why it’s so important that you take nude pictures of me. And don’t turn it into a joke or tell me how hot I am. I know that’s not why.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. It took a lot of effort not to say,
well, you are hot
. Or, once again deny that it was important. But telling him the truth wasn’t that easy either. She swallowed, her throat tight and dry. The lights of passing cars and streetlights flared in and out as they drove. Mike cast one glance toward her and she realized it had been several minutes since his last comment.

“Well,” she said. She licked her lips.

“Never mind.”

San Amaro wasn’t that big and it only took a few minutes to reach their street. Mike parked in the driveway of his place. She opened the door and climbed out before he could get there, and he firmly led her to her front door. Once more, they stood beneath the overhead light she’d left on while she unlocked the door.

She stepped inside. “Coming in?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Uh. No. Thanks.”

She stopped, her heart pitching into hard knocks against her ribs. “No?” She tried for a sultry look, laying one hand on his chest. “After that kiss earlier? You don’t want to…” She went up on her toes to brush her lips over his jaw. “Finish?”

He grabbed her hand. Hard. He stared down at her, his gaze unyielding. “You want to fuck?”

Mike’s crude words made Jules blink, but also made her stomach do a flip of excitement. This was what she was used to hearing from guys.

“Yeah,” she purred. “I do. And you do too.”

His fingers tightened on hers. “Yeah. I want to fuck your brains out. But not if you won’t even talk to me.”

She gazed up at him for a long moment. Her body tingled everywhere, heat sliding down into a hot pool of lust between her legs, but it was more than excitement that had her heart racing. It was fear. She felt her bottom lip quiver and worked to stop it.

“I’m worried about my photography.” The words slipped out.

He held her gaze steadily. “What do you mean? Why are you worried?”

“I…I…lately I’ve just felt so…frustrated.”

“You’ve been taking lots of pictures. Are they no good?” His voice was gentle and his grip on her hand eased a little.

“They’re okay. They’re not great.” She admitted it out loud, unable to look away from his intent eyes. “I feel like…I’m afraid I’m never going to be able to take anything great again.”

She waited for the platitudes, like “don’t be silly”, or “of course you will”. But he didn’t say that. Instead he continued to study her face. “Why do you feel that way?” he asked.

She drew in a long, slow breath. “I’m not sure. I just don’t have the motivation I used to. Everything seems hard. Nothing excites me.”

“Do you think taking pictures of me will help that?”

She closed her eyes against the genuine interest and compassion in his. There was a power in his gentle focus that she may have underestimated. She felt her heart beat in every pulse point, her lungs expanding as she breathed.

“Yes,” she whispered. She opened her eyes and met his. Her insides knotted at the realization that she’d confessed something so personal, so fucking scary, to him. To anyone, really.

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