Savor (Cottonwood Falls, Book 5) (3 page)

“TARDIS pants and a TARDIS shirt made from the
Doctor’s phrases.”

Was it his imagination or did he pick up on
irritation at his question? When she sidestepped, he flowed easily
to the left, effectively blocking her.

“You’re in my way,” she stated the obvious.

“I know.”

She frowned. “You know. Is there something I can do
for you, Mr. Cuyper?”

“Yeah.”

He grabbed her about the waist and held her flush to
him as he claimed her mouth for his own. Lust raked him over coals
he thought long dormant, but with her taste inflaming them, they
blazed to life. She tasted fresh, pure. He couldn’t get enough.

Her fists rested on his chest, and for a moment, he
believed she was going to push at him. Then, she canted her head to
the side and moaned as her hands flattened along his
sweatshirt.

His cock went rigid, and he tightened his hold on
her. Her fingers dug into the material as she held him as hard as
he did her.

“Oh damn,” she uttered when he found the wherewithal
to drag his mouth from hers.

“Yeah,” he said. “I agree.”

Her tongue darted out to swipe over the lips he’d
just sampled. His dick gave a jerk in his pants.

“What did you do that for?”

He didn’t let her go. In fact he brought her closer
to him. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure there are plenty of women in
this town who want you to kiss them. Plenty at the school.”

“I don’t give a damn. The teacher I want is in my
arms.”

“But I’m in your arms.” He gave a small smile,
waiting for all the cylinders to fire. Her eyes grew wide. “Oh.”
Then, she frowned and shook her head. “No, oh no. No, no, no.”

He turned them off the trail so a tree trunk was at
her back. The evening had become chilly, and he didn’t want her to
be cold, so he shared some of his heat with her. “Why no?”

“I’m teaching your son.”

“Doing a great job, as well. He loves your
class.”

“I don’t intermix the two.”

“Good to know I’m the one you’ll break that for.” He
read some of the phrases on her shirt.

“Yes, wait, what? No. I’m not breaking that rule.
It’s a hard and fast—”

He kissed her silent. Her whimper was fire to his
blood. Hips bucking against her, he nipped at her invading tongue
before he broke the kiss. “Yes, you are.”

“What makes you think that?” Her fingers remained
clenched in his thick sweatshirt.

“Because you’re as hot for me as I am for you.” He
lowered his face until they were nose to nose. “Tell me I’m wrong.
Tell me you don’t finger yourself at night thinking about me and
how it will be to have my cock filling you. Tell me you don’t use
your vibrator and call my name out to the empty room.”

Her body trembled. “Confident? And what makes you
think my room is empty?”

“You keep to yourself. The men in this town are
foolish to leave you alone. I see beyond what you’re showing
everyone else. Past the teacher as well as the woman who’s obsessed
with Dr. Who, Trekkies, and superheroes.” He flicked his tongue
along her lips. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Lust is lust.”

“You’re not telling me.” God, he loved having her in
his arms.

“This conversation isn’t happening.”

“Yes, it is. I’ve been attracted to you ever since I
first saw you. I’ve waited for you to approach me like others have,
but I see now it’s not your style. That’s fine. I’ll come to
you.”

“Why? What about your son? In fact, where is
he?”

“He’s fine. Hanging out with his grandparents
tonight; he went with them after school today. I’m all alone for
the weekend.” He kissed her again. “It’s Friday night; you should
be out.”

“I am.”

“With a man. Going to dinner, a movie. Having
mind-numbing sex.”

“Who’s to say it’s not going to happen?”

“Exactly,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Just agreeing with you that it’s going to
happen.”

“What’s happening?” she asked, her eyes large and
wide with desire.

“My fucking you. Mind-numbing sex. Holding your gaze
as I press my cock deep inside your pussy. Feeling the heat
surround me as I slide in inch by inch. Lacing our fingers and
putting your hands over your head as I do. Staring at your exposed
body while I make love to you.”

Her breath caught. “Why me?”

“I told you. It’s been you since I first laid eyes
on you. Lord knows I want to fuck you fast and hard, but damn, if I
don’t want to savor every single inch of you, London Rhymes. I want
to go slow and learn every inch of this body of yours. I want to
lie in bed and learn more about you. Do you like to cuddle? What
side of the bed you prefer to be on.”

“I’m not supposed to get involved with—”

“Come to dinner with me,” he offered.

“Dinner?”

“Yes. For starters. Make no mistake, I still want
all those things I said, but I’m guessing you haven’t eaten
yet.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“Dinner.”

“For starters.”

“I should go home and change.”

“No, this is you, London. I love it. Come on, I’ll
give you a ride to my place.”

“Then, I won’t have a car there.”

“I know.” He wrapped an arm around her, and they
began walking. The chill having been replaced by cold.

He asked her teaching questions as they made their
way through the park to his carbon black metallic BMW X5. He held
the door for her and kissed her again when she slid along the
seat.

“How’d you know I didn’t drive?”

“I didn’t.”

She captured his face with her hands before he could
back away. “You’re presumptuous, and normally, that is a turnoff
for me, but for some reason, I can’t say no to you. So, if I get
you out of my system, that should work.”

He held her gaze, not touching her aside from where
she initiated the connection. “I’m a lot of things. An ass, much of
the time. A father, all the time. But I don’t lie, and it’s
you
I want.”

“For now,” she uttered, releasing him.

“I have a feeling it’s going to be a lot longer than
‘for now’.” He spoke to the air as he closed the door and walked
around to the driver’s side.

He had no reason for feeling that way, but he did.
This elementary school teacher did something to him no woman had
ever done before. Made him want to settle down. Even with Javier’s
mom, he had only agreed for the sake of his son. London was
different. All the way around.

Chapter
Three

London gazed about Piers’ large entry room. Having
grown up in Cottonwood Falls, she’d not spent much time on this end
of town. The homes of their wealthy were here. She’d recognized the
sprawling four-story Boshay home as they drove along the heavily
tree lined roads. The changing leaves had since begun to fall,
reminding the residents of how close Christmas drew.

Piers’ house was very nice but didn’t have much in
the way of personality, in her mind. There weren’t signs of anyone
living there, much less a young boy in the second grade.

The click of the door behind her made her recall she
was in this building all alone with Piers.
I should
leave.

“Care for a drink?”

“Please.”
So much for leaving.

“Make yourself at home.”

He led her to a different room, a living room, she
assumed. A fire burned in the spacious hearth, and he left her
there.

She made her way to the couch and sat while pulling
her iPod and earphones from her pocket to set on the end table. She
took in the décor of this room and came to the same conclusion. Not
lived in.

He strolled back in, drinks in his hand. With a
small smile, she took the glass of wine from him and watched him as
he lowered himself to the other end of the couch she’d
occupied.

“Tell me about you, London.”

He sipped what she would have figured to be bourbon.
Her mouth watered for what he had.

She took a small sampling of the wine before setting
it on the table. “About me, let me see. I was raised here in
Cottonwood Falls. Always wanted to be a teacher, so that’s what I
went to be. I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d like to teach
than here.”

“And your parents?”

“Alive and well, off traveling the world. They come
home a few times a year to check on me then they’re off again.”

“Any siblings?” He took another drink, and the
movement of his Adam’s apple mesmerized her. “London?”

She shook off her musings. “Yes. One older sister
and a brother who’s younger. My sister, Bristol, is an artist, and
my brother Cardiff is a pilot for some private firm, and he’s
always flying here or there.”

He quirked a brow at her from over the rim of his
tumbler. “Bristol, London, and Cardiff. Born in England or all
conceived over there?”

She chuckled. “Picked up on that, did you?”

“Yes.”

“We were conceived over there. Bristol and I were
born there, but Cardiff was born once we’d moved here. My father
got a job in Macon, but Mum refused to live there. She wanted a
small town, so they found this one. Been here ever since.” She
glanced to the wine and left it there. “Bristol is back over there,
living with our grandparents.”

“But your parents come back here?”

“They make it a point to visit their children once a
year. So, they head to England to visit there, then here to see me,
and they always meet up with Card at some location.”

Piers pushed up and reached out a hand for her. Her
gut tightened with nervousness as she placed her hand in his. “Come
on,” he said, drawing her smoothly to her feet.

“Where are we going?”

“I promised you dinner. I should get to making
it.”

She picked up her wine glass. “Make it?”

His grin nearly melted her kneecaps. “Surprised you,
didn’t I? Didn’t think I could cook?”

She flicked her tongue over her lower lip. “I must
admit, I have a hard time imagining you wearing a little floral
apron in the kitchen.”

He winked. “I only wear floral for special guests.
You may get to see it yet. I don’t want it to clash with anything,
so I’m nude beneath it.”

Shit.
She nearly dropped her glass. “I look
forward to that.”

“I’ll get naked for you, right now, if that’s what
you want.”

Lord help her, she did. “Food.”

He plucked the wine from her hand. “Why didn’t you
say you don’t drink wine?”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“Your expression when you sipped it. Want some
bourbon?”

“Oh God, yes.”

“Coming right up. You want something, just ask.”

That set off a wealth of phrases she clamped her
mouth on, knowing they didn’t need to be escaping.”

The kitchen was massive and full of stainless steel
appliances. Marble countertops. She whimpered as she trailed her
fingers over the neutral hue. “This is beautiful,” she said. “I
would love to cook in here.” Her gaze moved over the double oven,
multi-burner stovetop, and on to the sink in the middle.

He paused in pouring her a drink. “Enjoy
cooking?”

“I do. I don’t do it all that often, not much to do
when just cooking for one, but I do enjoy it.” She turned a
complete circle, wishing she had this to work with. Perhaps she’d
cook more often if she did.

“Here’s your drink.”

She took it from him and drank some, grateful for
the familiar burn. “Put me to work,” she said. “What can I do?”

His eyes burned in a manner that made her wonder if
his response would have
anything
to do with cooking
dinner.

***

The salmon fell apart in her mouth, and she nearly
purred with orgasmic bliss at the flaky seared perfection. “This is
amazing,” she said after she’d swallowed her final bite. “You’re
one hell of a cook.”

“Thank you.” His gaze held hers without blinking.
He’d since finished, and they’d just sat there talking.

She drank some water and laid her fork on the plate.
“Where did you learn to cook?”

“My old man. My mom worked three jobs; my father was
a man who couldn’t hold down a job to save his life. But he could
cook. So, he did and experimented. I would help him when I got back
from school.”

She almost offered an apology for his father but
merely nodded. “My dad can’t boil water. Have they come here to
visit you?”

“They came once.”

“That must have been nice. Is that the grandparents
your son is with this weekend?”

“No. He’s with my wife’s parents.”

Wife. The word alone tossed ice water over her,
dousing her and reminding her he had been married.

“It’s nice they still get to interact with him.”

He shifted on the seat. “You’re bothered by my
mentioning her.”

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say it startled me, but I
can hardly hold her passing against you. It wasn’t your fault.”

He shoved back from the table and left the room
without a word. For a moment, London sat there before she breathed
heavily.

“Of course, I’ve been wrong before,” she muttered,
rising slowly and gathering the dishes.

Piers pummeled his heavy bag in his room until the
flush of shame and anger left him. Reaching out to hold the
swinging bag, he took several deep breaths.

“Damn it! I can’t believe I just left her
there.”

He stepped into his bathroom and wiped off the sheen
of sweat then made his way back to where he’d left her in the
dining room. It was empty. The table, clean.

He heard noise coming from the kitchen and peered
in. London was washing dishes. Her earphones were in, and she was
dancing to whatever she had on her iPod. He approached slowly, not
wanting to scare her, and waited for her to see him in the window’s
reflection. And waited.

She was deep in her music and dance. He crossed his
arms and moved to the counter at her side. She came to a stuttered
stop when she finally noticed him. With a sheepish grin, she rinsed
off her hands and pulled out one earbud.