MoreThanWords (4 page)

She’d given him limited details about her appearance, not
enough to form a good mental picture. Very long dark hair, fair skin and blue
eyes—all true. And too simplistic to do her justice. Sleek, shiny hair the
color of black coffee hung straight. Down her back on one side, completely
covering her chest on the other. He loved long hair on women, and hers was
incredible. She wore bangs, a thick fringe in a crisp line at eyebrow level.
All that dark hair in contrast to her smooth, creamy complexion…he couldn’t
take his eyes off her, she was so stunning.

But there was something else. More than the pretty picture
staring him down as he approached. She had this…damn, there was
something
about her. Eyes full of fire, sexy curves all buttoned and tucked neatly away
inside a sweet, innocent exterior. Just looking at her messed with his wiring.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more—adore her or corrupt her.

“Can I help you?”

Hell yes, she could help him. Give him a sec and he’d hand
her a list of the ways.

With her delicate features and soft eyes, he’d expected a
high, singsong voice, not the throaty lower register that’d slipped through her
pale-pink lips. Damn sexy. Decision made. He’d adore her, absolutely, but he’d
do it while corrupting her—every way possible.

“You can,” he said, glancing at the engraved badge secured
to her blouse. No name. Just,
Manager
. Not so helpful. “I’m looking for
someone.”

“Sure.” Her eyes flitted around the store as she spoke,
never landing on him for more than a second at a time. “For a new girlfriend,
wife…same-sex partner?”

The laugh came out so hard, it choked him. “I don’t have any
of those to shop for. I meant literally—I’m here to see Ms. Yates.”

“Sorry, Caitlyn doesn’t work until Thursday.” She pushed a
notepad with the store’s insignia in his direction. “If you’d like to leave a
message, I’ll make sure she gets it as soon as possible.”

Was that frost in her voice? Possibly, if her sister had
recounted the awkward coffee shop non-date. Coming in here yesterday—all cocky
and inadequately informed—was effectively biting him in the ass. Now he had to
overcome the obstacle of sort of hitting on her sister—a moment the real C Ya
had obviously witnessed, unbeknownst to him. Damn fine mess he’d made.

“Not Caitlyn. Nice girl, but that was a miscommunication.
I’m here to see her sister—you.”

Now her eyes stayed on his face. Up close, the blue was
almost gray, with lashes that’d make any woman envious.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. Drilled him with a
wary look and crossed her arms, an act that squeezed her chest higher and
tighter against the white blouse. She might be trying to hide behind all those
buttons, but the thin fabric had other ideas. Such as showing off her bra.
Light-pink with tiny polka dots and a lacy edge. God help him, he was already
picturing her in her underwear, those nice, full tits straining to escape silky
cups—and he had a hard-on to show for it. If he had to leave the shelter of the
counter in the next few minutes, he was in trouble.

“Why do you want to see
me
?”

His solid plan to get to know her before revealing their
online connection had died the second he realized she’d seen him with Caitlyn
yesterday. Now it was full-disclosure time. “To bring you these.” He set a
takeout cup on the counter, then pulled a vintage portable Scrabble game from
his inner coat pocket and placed it beside the herbal tea. “And to make your
long, boring Monday a bit more exciting.”

Chapter Four

“Oh my god…” Calli stepped backward until the
floor-to-ceiling shelving thumped her in the hip, ending her retreat.
“You’re…him.” No way, not possible. She pinched her eyes closed, shook her
head, then looked again. Yep, he was still there, totally gorgeous, looking at
her with the most amazing hazel eyes she’d ever seen. “
You’re
him?”

“Travis Graham,” he extended his right hand, “unless you’d
rather call me Scrabble Master T.”

She stared at the hand he’d offered. Stared and stared, but
it didn’t drop away. Her palms slid against the shelf she was clutching.
Shaking anybody’s hand, especially his, was out of the question.

How had he found her, and a better question, why? Thanks to
a conversation with Caitlyn, Calli knew his claim to be a guitarist was
true—his band played to packed clubs. Caitlyn had been ready to jump into his
bed yesterday and he’d turned her down. Because he’d realized that Caitlyn
wasn’t…
her
? This had to be some kind of joke.

She twisted to peer out the window. No suspicious vans that
could be housing hidden camera crews. No signs of life at all. Just the tall,
handsome one standing in front of her, waiting for her to shake his hand. She
let go of the wall unit and wiped the sweat on her skirt as subtly as possible.
She inched forward, forcing her hand to extend when she got within contact
distance.

Nope. Still couldn’t do it. “So it’s true that you play
guitar,” she said, snatching the drink instead. She peeled back the sipping
tab, then pressed it closed again. They’d chatted online. Her sister had no
qualms about him, obviously. And while she couldn’t recall exactly what her
attacker in the alley had looked like, she was damn sure Travis wasn’t that
guy. Didn’t mean she was ready to drink some mystery beverage he plunked on her
counter, though.

He let his hands drop to the counter, little crinkles
forming at the corners of his eyes as he watched her playing with the cup.
“Yes. Mostly bass with the band. When I’m writing music, or playing strictly
for personal enjoyment, I prefer acoustic.”

Not just a guitarist, a songwriter. Yes, apparently Travis
Graham
could
get even hotter. “And you really do have a beaten-up
Scrabble board.”

“I do.” His fingers tapped a beat on the faded burgundy
vinyl cover of the collapsible board.

If hands could be sexy, Travis’ were. So was his smile. Warm
and genuine, it started with his lips and went all the way to his eyes. Totally
disarming…and knee-melting. She couldn’t help but relax. Just a little.

“Where’s your third arm?”

“Inside my coat. I had a special pocket added for it.” He
nodded in her direction. “You must have a good dentist—those teeth look almost
real.”

Ooh, he was quick. But she could be too. She pointed to
where his coat hung open. “I bet that tight t-shirt really chafes your giant
mole.”

“Nice legs,” he said while leaning in and totally checking
her out. “Not gorilla-like at all.”

She giggled, then slapped a hand over her mouth to squelch
the foreign sound. When was the last time a man had made her giggle? God, she
couldn’t remember, not a single time.

“You have a nice laugh.” His fingers gently wrapped around
her wrist and pulled her hand away. “A pretty smile too.”

Her brain quit the second he touched her. Apparently it
couldn’t function at the same time as her libido, which was running wild with
possibilities that’d never come true.

“You still haven’t told me your first name.”

With his thumb making circles over her pulse point, she
barely
remembered
her name. The adrenaline rushing through her veins
wasn’t entirely excitement. Travis was handsome, sexy, funny and charming. But
he was also a virtual stranger who’d sought her out without permission or
notice. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true—he
had
invited her to go on a
date during their last game. It’d been vague and she’d assumed he was kidding—because
how could it have been real? Now she knew. He’d already figured out where she
worked. Then there’d been the comment about how today might not be so boring.
He’d given her some clues of his own, hadn’t he? If he meant to hurt her, he’d
have snuck up on her, not walked through the front door—twice.

“How did you find me?”

“Simple Google search. You told me an approximate location
and quoted me the tagline of the place you work, which turned out to be unique
to this store.”

“Oh god…what was I thinking?” She’d been so stupid and
careless. Anybody could’ve found her with the info she’d given up. Travis
wasn’t a psycho—probably—but if she’d chatted with somebody else, somebody
less…upfront… She covered her throat with her free hand. Tried deep breathing
to beat back the panic, but couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

“Whoa, you okay?” He caught her mid-swoon, the act bringing
them into a clinch. Subtly applied cologne infiltrated her nose, adding to her
dizziness. Heat tickled her thighs, her belly, the untouched country in
between.

“Not really,” she whispered, utterly lost in his eyes.
Understatement of the year on more levels than she could count at the moment.

“I probably moved too fast. I do that when I want
something.”

“And you wanted
me
? Sight unseen, based on a couple
of chats during a Scrabble game? I don’t get it, I mean, look at you…” Her eyes
flitted over every inch she could see, given their close proximity. “And you’re
a musician, practically a rock star.”

His jaw ticked. Arms stiffened where they held her. For a
second Calli thought he might drop her on her ass and walk out the door. And
she didn’t like the idea.

“Are you…” How to word it. How to ask if the ridiculously
good-looking man holding her in his arms was some nut-job stalker. “Insane?”

“Not currently. I’ve been on the wagon for almost two
months.” Dear god, he had dimples to go with the charming crinkles when he
smiled.

She was such a goner.

“Very reassuring.” She couldn’t help it, she trusted that
smile. Probably because she
was
insane. She took a step back before
completely losing her mind and melting into him. Didn’t let go of his hand,
though. That amount of crazy she’d keep. “Seriously. Why’d you come looking for
me?”

“Didn’t have a choice after those chats, sweetheart. I had
to know if the funny, sexy girl I met online was real.”

Words to give her a wake-up call. She
was
that girl
from the chats—on the inside. Day-to-day, though, not even close. He’d realize
that the minute he asked her to leave this building with him. No point in
letting this fantasy go one step further.

She removed her hand from Travis’ grip and pushed the
Scrabble board toward him. “Sorry to disappoint you, but she’s not.”

* * * * *

Leftover stir-fry wasn’t hitting the spot tonight. Nothing
was.

Calli scraped the food into the trash can, rinsed her dishes
and flopped on the couch. The laptop taunted her from the coffee table. So did
the Scrabble board Travis had refused to take when she asked him to leave the
store. Because he only wanted to play with her, he’d said, before walking out
the door.

Travis had looks. He had talent and intelligence. This was a
man who could have his pick of women and probably did, on a regular basis. Why
he was intent on
her
made no sense at all.

Maybe he had a weird fetish for nerdy, plain girls. Even so,
she still couldn’t have him. Unless he had a very specific fetish for nerdy,
plain girls who don’t go out after dark. Ugh. Even if she wasn’t a neurotic
mess, he was still miles out of her league. How could she relax and be…fun…if
he was in front of her, looking right at her? Yet somehow she’d managed today.
She’d flirted. She’d joked. She’d even laughed. Travis, barely more than a
stranger, flipped that switch for her. Freed her to be more than boringly
basic.

And god, she wanted more of that feeling.

Charming grumbled as she moved him aside to reach for the
laptop. She drilled her fingernails against the plastic housing while the
computer started up. Slow much? She’d bought it with her business startup loan
two years ago. Too soon to justify an upgrade. Funny, she’d never noticed the
lag time before. Just thinking about chatting with Travis had her fidgety. Her
fingers stumbled, hitting the wrong keys, hitting Enter before she’d input her
password.

“Stupid fingers.” Her heart zoomed. Premature
anticipation—he might not be online. Worse, he might not want to play with her
after her spaz moment this afternoon.

Finally, the page loaded. The black rose popped onto the
screen, a red bubble beside it indicating he’d invited her to a game. Three
hours ago, if the timestamp was correct.
After
she’d booted him from
Romance U. No message waiting for her in the chat pane, not that she expected
one. That move was on her.

She played the best word she could with her crummy one-point
tiles, then typed a message.
My name is Calli.

His reply popped up immediately, as if he’d been waiting for
her. Unbelievable.
A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

For some reason, she believed he meant it. “Ooh, charming,
aren’t you?” She’d spoken to the screen, but her four-legged friend didn’t
understand as much. He’d heard his name and now he wanted attention—of the
take
me outside
variety. She fixed him with a glare, useless at it was.
Charming’s head fit in the palm of her hand but his stubborn streak was a mile
wide. “Your timing stinks worse than your poop.”

She typed,
I have to take my dog out…don’t go anywhere,
okay?

Nowhere else I want to be, Calli.

Seeing him use her name gave her a boost. Too bad she’d been
her typical cowardly self this afternoon. If she’d told him her name then, she
would’ve gotten to hear him say it in his deep, smooth voice. Maybe she still
would. A girl could dream.

The day had been sunny, but the evening was bone-chillingly
windy. Snow whipped inside when she opened the door for Charming. Even he
wanted no part of stepping out into that weather, opting to voluntarily use his
indoor facilities instead. Thank you, small miracles.

Not only had Travis waited, he’d left her a message.
Are
you still wearing that white blouse and checkered skirt?

Checkered. She shook her head.
It’s houndstooth, not
checkered. But yes.

I stand corrected. You looked incredible. You have
perfect legs for a short skirt like that. And all those little pearls buttoned
up to your chin…very sexy.

Sexy? Her? In this outfit? Not hardly.
Do you always
drink during the daytime, or just today?

I don’t drink. I like being in full control.

Oh, well. She was definitely in favor of Travis being in
full control.

He played the word
ravish
, then another message
appeared on his side of the chat window.
That’s what I wanted to do when you
crossed your arms at me. Pop every last one of those damn buttons. Put my hands
and lips all over what you’re hiding under there.

Her nipples tightened and a wave of heat spread from her
belly to her thighs. No man had ever expressed a desire like that to her. About
her.

What about my skirt? Would you have left that on?
She
gasped at the sight of her words on the screen. God, she was really doing
this—dirty chatting with Travis, who was no longer a faceless, anonymous man
but a six-foot slab of yumminess who’d actually touched her a few hours ago.

After I slipped the shirt down your arms, I’d touch, kiss
and lick every inch of your creamy skin until you begged me to take off that
polka-dot bra I caught a glimpse of. I’d trace your curves, the outline of your
areolas. First with my finger, then my tongue, until your nipples were hard and
aching for me to suck them. And while I was kissing and nibbling your nipples,
I’d ease the zipper down on your houndstooth (not checkered) skirt. I’d slide
it over your hips and let it hit the floor. I’d run my hands over your ass,
down the back of your legs, up the inside of your thighs.

“And then what?” The cursor blinked, but nothing else popped
up in answer. Ten seconds, thirty, a full minute. Still nothing.
Are you
still there?

Yeah.

I thought maybe you got disconnected.

No, Calli, I’m waiting for you.

To do what?
This is where being one of the world’s
most inexperienced thirty-one-year-olds became glaringly obvious. She didn’t
have a clue what she was supposed to have done.

To tell me to keep going. That you want more.

I thought you liked having full control.

I do. But I’ll only ever do things you want.

Oh god. It was as if he knew her secret desires.
I want.
Don’t stop.

Take off your blouse and skirt. Keep the bra and panties.

She didn’t ask why. Just did as he’d asked, or rather, told.
Goose bumps rippled over her arms, breasts and stomach as she got next-to-naked
in her living room for a man who couldn’t see her.

I took them off. And left them on.

Good. I wish I could see you.

Me too.
Knowing it wasn’t going to happen made it
easy to say.

Where are you—at a desk, in bed?

On my couch with the laptop.

Put it beside you. Lick your fingertips and touch your
nipples. Play with them. Squeeze them. Until they’re so hard it’s almost
unbearable to touch them anymore.

She slipped her fingers inside her bra. Her nipples were
already hard, they’d been that way since he first mentioned control. Still, she
obeyed, rubbing and tickling her breasts. Plucking her nipples until the
lightest touch made her jerk.