Protect Me (11 page)

“That’s so scary,” she replied with the shake of her head.
 

“Yeah, it is. The other was a house fire, contained to the back bedroom. Pretty sure there’s a young man getting his ass handed to him for smoking in his bedroom as we speak.”
 

“Well, sounds like he’s fortunate, too.”
 

“Yeah, he’s probably grounded for life, but at least he’s alive,” I reply as I take another sip of the coffee. Even for decaf, it’s fucking heaven.
 

Lia is staring at me over her coffee cup as if waiting on me to say something. I clear my throat and lean back casually on the counter.
 

“So, do you have any plans tonight?” I ask.
 

Lia looks at me for a few seconds, wheels turning in that beautiful head of hers. “No,” she finally replies.
 

“Well, I was thinking that maybe you’d like to go out to dinner tonight. I know you have to work tomorrow, so it won’t be anything late. There’s a great steakhouse in town, but Friday or Saturday nights are the best nights to go there. So, I was thinking about Mexican. If you like it, that is. Or we can go to the Italian place on the edge of town. They have a pretty
decent…” I let my voice trail off when I realize I’m blabbering like an idiot. Shit. You’d think this was my first time asking a girl out.
Smooth, douchebag. Real smooth.
 

Lia apparently doesn’t notice my lack of finesse. “I like Mexican,” she says quickly as if she’s afraid she may change her mind if she doesn’t get it out right then and there.
 

Atta girl!
 

“Okay, so I’ll pick you up at six?” I ask, holding my breath and silently prepping for the letdown.
 

“Okay,” she whispers.
 

“Okay.” I don’t realize right away that I’m staring at her like a student who has a massive woody for his hot teacher. Apparently, you wave a gorgeous girl in front of me and my mind turns to crap.
 

But, I know that’s not true. I’ve had plenty of hot girls throw themselves at me and into my bed over the years and my brain has never shutdown like it does when I’m around Lia.
 

Bed. Fuck, would I love to get this girl in bed.
 

“So,” I start and then clear my throat. “I’m gonna head home and grab some shut-eye. I’ll see you later tonight,” I say as I head towards the door, decaf coffee in hand.
 

Lia follows close behind me. As I reach the door, I turn quickly and spill a little of the hot liquid on my hand, but I don’t feel anything. Lia is close. Damn close.
I can smell the sweetness in her shampoo. I can see the heat burning within her beautiful eyes. And in a few nanoseconds, I’m going to taste coffee on her lips.
 

I slowly lean forward, inching my way towards her lush lips. Her eyes are locked on mine; intensity I can feel down to my toes. When my lips are just a breath away from hers, I hesitate slightly, giving her the chance to pull back. When her eyes flutter closed, I proceed with Operation Kiss The Shit Out Of This Beautiful Woman.
 

Her lips taste as sweet and as perfect as I remember. I keep my eyes open, watching and memorizing her movements. Her eyelids flutter as I devour her mouth. Her tongue snakes out to stroke mine. She purrs like a cat which causes my blood to boil and race south of my belt. I’m hard enough to hammer nails. This woman, this incredibly beautiful, sweet, and sexy woman is turning me inside out. And I fucking love it.
 

It takes all the strength I can muster up, but I pull back, eyes still locked on her stunning face. Lia slowly opens her eyes. She seems dazed and sways slightly on her feet. I reach forward and wrap my hand around her back, pulling her closer. Heat radiates from her graceful little body.
 

“As much as I’d love to continue that kiss, and believe me when I say, I’d love to fucking continue that kiss and maybe even try out the sturdiness of this countertop, I better let you get back to work,” I say as I
push a silky strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you later tonight,” I say just before leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on her forehead.
 

“Okay,” she replies, still dazed from the kiss.
 

I release Lia’s back and turn to walk out the door. I wait just outside until I hear her throw the lock before heading to my car. I forgot how uncomfortable it is to walk with a raging hard-on. I’ve spent plenty of time with women who all cause blood to flow to my dick. It usually happens later in the evening, though, when we’re heading towards the bedroom. But, Lia is the first person who causes a painful erection just by batting her long eyelashes at me. She causes a reaction in my pants, in my head, and in my gut like no others have, in a long time. Not since Jill.
 

I drop down into the seat and take another sip of coffee before throwing the car in reverse.  First thing’s first: sleep.
 

Second? Plan the best damn date for Lia.
 

If I were to tell you I didn’t have sweaty palms and jittery legs as I walk up the metal stairs towards Lia’s door, I’d be fucking lying. I’m nervous and excited all at the same time.
 

I wipe my palms one last time on my khaki shorts before raising my hand to knock on the door. Lia
answers right away, throwing the lock and pulling the door open. She smiles as she swings the door open widely for me to enter, and my breath catches in my throat. The heart in my chest speeds up and then tightens almost painfully. Lia stands before me in a light pink sundress and white strappy sandals. She’s drop-dead gorgeous. And tonight, she’s mine.
 

“Hi,” she says hesitantly. She’s nervous, I can see it on her face and hear it in her voice, which makes me even more nervous. Could she be regretting her decision?
 

“Hey,” I say as I step inside. “You look stunning,” I tell her as I lean forward and place a gentle kiss on her cheek. Her skin is smooth and warm against my lips. It makes me wonder what other hidden parts of her would feel like against my lips.
 

“Thank you,” she replies shyly.
 

“Are you ready?”
 

“Yes,” she says confidently with a slight smile, exhaling loudly.
 

Taking her hand within mine, I lead her out the front door. I continue to hold her hand like it’s a lifeline as we hit the last step and walk to my awaiting car. There’s a very light, warm breeze tonight which causes her long hair to feather out around her face. I grip her hand tightly as we descend the last step and walk to my awaiting car. Her hand feels so damn right tucked securely within mine. Complete.
 

I can’t help but steal one more touch as I open the car door for her. I have a need for her that I can’t explain. I turn her so that she’s facing me, my warm palm caressing her back. She smells like heaven, all sugary with a hint of wildflowers. The long planes of her neck beg for my touch. I slide my free hand up her neck, committing the slope and the silkiness to memory. God, I love touching this woman.
 

“Your neck drives me wild,” I say huskily.
 

“I’ve never had someone tell me they like my neck before,” she says with a hint of a smile.
 

“It does seem a little strange, right? I have no clue what is so damn sexy about your neck, but I just want to touch it,” I tell her as I lay a hand along the column of her neck. “Caress it,” I say as I slide my calloused hand up and down from collarbone to earlobe. “Lick it,” I say mere seconds before I trace the same path with my tongue that my hand just traveled.
 

The taste of her skin is like lightning. A tornado touches down within my stomach. The storm rages in my veins. Lia shudders uncontrollably in my hands, and I know in this moment, one touch will never be enough. I need more. I need Lia like I need my next breath. Because without her, I might die. The revelation is both startling and exhilarating.
 

  “We should probably go get dinner,” I say as my lips continue to kiss and suckle along her neck.
 

“What?” she says hazily.
 

“Dinner. We should go eat.”
 

“Oh, yeah. Dinner. We should do that.”
 

I move my head to look deep into her lust filled eyes. Damn, does this woman make me feel things I shouldn’t want to feel. Desire for her courses through my tightly wound body as I help Lia down into the seat. I glance down at her perfect little body one more time while she sits in my car, before shutting the door. Her eyes are flames of desire, and I’m sure they’re a reflection of my own.
 

I slowly walk around to the driver’s side of the car, counting backwards from twenty as I try to get my raging hard-on under control. I slide down in the seat and steal another glance at my passenger. She gives me a small, shy smile. Fuck counting. I want to throw her over my shoulder, carry her back up the stairs, and ravish her beautiful body from head to toe. All. Night. Long.
 

I shake my head and turn the ignition. Backing out of the parking lot, I chance one last glance at Lia. She’s looking out the passenger window, hair gently blowing in the breeze. She looks peaceful. It’s the only look I ever want to see on her face again. It’s my new goal in life. To make Lia happy.
 

El Toro isn’t very busy for a Monday night. There are two other couples enjoying dinner while the speakers pump upbeat Spanish music through them and the television over the bar airs a soccer game. The walls
are all painted bold shades of red, green, and blue. The Mexican flag is painted on the back wall, and hot pepper lights are strung around the perimeter. It’s festive and fun, and they make a damn good margarita. I’m usually a beer man, myself, but when you’re here, you can’t help but get a margarita.
 

“Can I get you a drink?” our waiter asks as he sets the menus in front of us.
 

“Their margaritas are to die for,” I tell her.
 

“Oh, I’ll have the peach mango margarita, please,” Lia says with a smile.
 

“Lime on the rocks for me,” I tell the waiter who hurries off to get our drinks.
 

Lia folds up the menu and glances around the room. “This place is great,” she says with a smile.
 

“Wait until you try the food,” I reply.
 

“Do you know what you would like to order?” the waiter asks after he returns with our margaritas.
 

“Chicken Chimichanga with extra guacamole, please.”
 

“I’ll have the steak and chicken burrito and a side of rice,” I tell him.
 

“Very good. It’ll be out soon,” he says as he takes our menus and disappears into the kitchen.
 

“So, tell me about college. What did you study?” I ask as I reach across the table and link her fingers within mine.
 

“Oh, I actually went for interior design,” she
says as she shifts in her seat. I notice that anytime I ask about her past, she clams up. It bothers me.
 

“So, you went for interior design and worked in a bakery. Which did you like better?”
 

“Believe it or not, the bakery was more my style. There are tons of design companies down in Florida that cater to the wealthy vacationers and the retired, but I just never really felt like I fit in with them. I felt more at home in the kitchen than in the design studio.”
 

“What made you leave the kitchen?” I ask, anxious to hear her answers. Anxious to get to know her deeper. Praying that she’ll let me in.
 

“I was in a relationship and he didn’t want me to work,” she mumbles quietly.
 

My gut tightens at the thought of someone else holding Lia, touching Lia. But more importantly, I hate the way she says he didn’t want her to work. Like she’s not a woman capable of making her own decisions.
 

Rage - and a little jealousy - churns in my stomach like sour milk. I don’t know this guy, but I already hate him. “Doesn’t seem right, him not letting you work,” I say as casually as possible, though I’m pretty sure I failed.
 

“Yeah, well, when you’re rich and connected, you get used to everyone catering to you. Garrett was…” she looks over my shoulder as she desperately tries to come up with the right terminology. “Garrett was difficult,” she whispers as she stares off into the
distance. Her eyes instantly change from the bright, blue-gray color that they normally are. Now, they appear darker, distant. And what hurts the most is that they are laced with fear and uncertainty.
 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up,” I tell her, desperately in need of a conversation redirect. “How was dinner last night? Did my family behave?”
 

“Dinner was great,” Lia says, the light slowly returning to her eyes. “You have an amazing family, Nate.”
 

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool. My niece and nephews are the fucking shit. I love spending time with them, getting them all sugared up, and then sending them back home to their parents,” I tell her with an ornery grin.
 

“Well, they are definitely cool. I watched your niece shovel her peas from her plate onto Travis’s plate without anyone realizing it,” Lia tells me.
 

I laugh hard at the image she just painted. My niece, Brooklyn, is definitely ornery, and I can see her getting away with much more than piling peas on someone else’s plate in the future.
 

Our waiter delivers piping hot platters of delicious food. My mouth is watering and my stomach is all but growling as I grab my fork. I haven’t eaten since I got home from work this morning. I’m starving.