Shifting Michelle's Boundaries (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (8 page)

“I’ll finally find out his last name,” she said, smirking. “And get a kiss.”

Her mind wandered back to the night in the hotel. His hands running along her body, touching her pussy, making way for his thick cock…A bead of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades, and she didn’t know whether it was from the memories or the workout.

Either way she was suddenly too warm, and pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Another forty minutes and she’d jump in the shower, then call it a night.

* * * *

Craig read the e-mail again, then stared at the blue wall behind the computer, his eyebrows knitted. “Huh.”

Michelle had replied, saying she’d love to go to a movie and that she’d meet him at a local theater, and then put a comment on the bottom asking if he had a friend. She hadn’t, however, said why.

Jack, of course, jumped straight to conclusions.

“Yes, you do, yes, I want to meet her.” He grinned from the couch. “This one is eager, eh?”

“You don’t know that’s what she means,” Craig said.

“And
you
don’t know that it’s not what she means. Maybe she’s just forward. She certainly was in the first e-mail.”

“True.” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I’ll agree to the meet, but I’ll leave the questioning about that for later in the night, okay?”

“Sure. No point rushing things and scaring her off I guess.”

“Why, Jack, that was almost sensible of you.”

Jack flipped him the bird and picked up the remote. “What do you want to watch?”

“Whatever. Your choice, as long as it’s not porn.”

“Spoilsport.” He switched the TV to an old action movie. “There.”

Craig nodded his approval, then quickly penned a reply to Michelle’s e-mail.

Hey,

Sounds great. Will see you there.

Craig.

Despite his original nerves, he was looking forward to seeing her again. As great as the sex had been, he wasn’t much of a one-night guy. Sex was better when he knew his partner, and given how good it had been when she was a stranger, it could be incredible once they’d spent a date or two talking.

“Any news on those guys from the bar?”

Jack shook his head. “Not a thing. The whole pack’s on the lookout, and I’ve got Choker and his boys keeping an eye out, too.”

Craig smirked. “How many people did he have to choke to get that nickname?”

“Just the one off-duty magistrate.” Jack grinned. “Apparently it’s quality, not quantity.”

“Yeesh. I suppose it’s better to have ’em as friends than as enemies.”

“That’s pretty much my philosophy, yeah. Don’t tell Tate I told you this, but he knew one of the guys. Smelt him on me on the meeting.”

Craig turned in his chair to face Jack. “Really? Know him how?”

“They were in the same pack, apparently.”

“What was Tate doing in the same pack as a scumbag?”

“That’s what I’m thinking, too.” Jack shrugged. “Tate’s a good guy, so I’m sure it’s nothing bad, but it’s worth thinking about.”

“Yeah. I guess. Think Stefan knows more?”

“Maybe. They’re as close as you and I, after all. Still, that doesn’t mean he’ll tell us anything.”

“Might be worth a question or two, though. If it comes to it.”

Jack nodded, his eyes back on the movie. “So, twenty-four hours till your date. Nervous?”

Craig stood and stretched his back, then moved to the couch and shifted Jack’s legs before sitting down. “Little bit. Sex is one thing. I’m good at that. Small talk is another.”

“And what if she turns out to be a huge racist, or allergic to cats?”

“That, too.” He prodded Jack in the hip. “I can always send you to the SPCA.”

“Me-fuckin’-ow.”

If she did turn out to be unsuitable, it was no big deal, anyway. They’d only just met, after all. It’s not like he was already growing feelings for a woman he’d met once.

Was he?

Michelle paid the cab driver and stepped onto the sidewalk beside the theater, wishing she’d worn a thicker top. Her blouse was a favorite, and showed off her goods without giving them away, as Ally put it, but it wasn’t designed for cold winds. At least the plain black pants she’d decided to wear with it were reasonably warm. Even so, she was regretting arriving early.

There were a few people heading into the theater, but being midweek it was pretty quiet. They wouldn’t be struggling to find seats.

A long line of cars crept along the road in front of her, their occupants all on their way home from late shifts at work, she guessed by their clothes and frowns. A few of the men gave her more than a quick glance, which worked wonders for her confidence.
Guess I’m looking okay, then.

The theater’s electronic marquee listed the latest blockbusters available that night, and a few looked interesting enough. A romance, an action movie, and some sort of period drama. Whether Craig would like any of them was another matter entirely. Her gaze wandered to a poster on the wall showing a barely clad woman arching back in the arms of a shirtless man, and for a moment she saw herself in the woman’s place.

Gah. Pull yourself together. This is a movie date, not a repeat performance.

Five minutes later, though that was still ten minutes before the time they’d arranged to meet, Craig appeared from around a corner and made his way over. He’d dressed lightly, too—blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt under an open, thin jacket—but if the cold bothered him in the least he didn’t show it.

“Nice night to be indoors,” he said as he neared.

Michelle smiled. “Certainly is.”

They both maintained an awkward distance for a moment, Michelle unsure of whether to hug him or not. They’d seen each other naked, which was often enough to warrant such things, but they didn’t even know each other’s surnames. Craig fixed the confusion by holding out his hand.

“Craig Matheson.”

“Michelle Needham.” She grinned and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

His grip was warm and firm, and Michelle tried not to think about when the same hand was clasping her bare breast. He let go and turned to watch the marquee.

“So, what are you in the mood for?” he asked.

Don’t tempt me.
“I’m open. Funny, soppy, fighty.”

“Fighty?”

“I couldn’t think of a different word that ended in a ‘y’.”

He laughed, flashing his perfectly straight white teeth. “Well I’m not in the mood for fighty, so that leaves soppy and funny, I guess.”

“Aha!” Michelle pointed to a poster on the other side of the entrance. “A romantic comedy.”

“Perfect.” Craig gestured toward the doors. “Shall we?”

Craig insisted on buying the tickets, popcorn, and drinks, and then carried it all into the theater, too. He was certainly off to a good start, she decided as they settled into their seats halfway to the screen. She’d almost made a joke about heading up to the back row, but she held her tongue, deciding she didn’t know if he’d take it seriously or not.

The movie was a pretty standard affair. She could tell within the first five minutes how it would turn out. The Hollywood hunk would fall in love with the Hollywood babe, fumble through a series of misunderstandings and comedy moments, and they would end up falling in love. It was nothing special, but it had funny bits and lots of eye candy, so it would do. Craig seemed entertained, too, and certainly enjoyed his comedy. His face lit up when he laughed, and it infectious enough that it always managed to make Michelle grin, too.

They didn’t talk at all, since it was a movie, but Michelle noticed him looking at her from the corner of her eye, and he probably noticed her doing the same more than a few times. She reached over and grabbed more popcorn. As she tossed it into her mouth, one kernel managed to slip away and fell down her blouse, resting neatly on her cleavage. She cursed and reached for it, then straightened to find Craig watching, an eyebrow raised.

“Lucky popcorn.”

Michelle grinned and pointed at his own popcorn that rested on his lap. “Ditto.”

Craig laughed. “Maybe we should’ve gone to the back row instead.”

Be still, my heart. A man with my sense of humor.
Michelle batted him in the arm with a hand, and he feigned pain before winking and turning back to the movie.

By the middle of the movie the plot had all but disappeared, and Michelle started to get bored. Craig must have been feeling the same, as his gaze started to shift around the theater. Michelle decided to take the initiative and grabbed his arm. He turned, a questioning look on his face.

“This is starting to stink,” she said. “Want to grab a coffee or something?”

“You read my mind, Michelle.”

She beamed and stood, closely followed by Craig. God, her name sounded good in his deep voice. She could definitely get used to hearing him say it. They headed out into the lobby and toward the exit, silent but not uncomfortably so. As they reached the door, Craig pulled off his jacket and offered it to Michelle.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t really notice it most of the time. Take it.”

Michelle smiled and pulled on the coat. It smelled lightly of wood and Craig’s aftershave.

“You must work with lumber,” she said as they headed out onto the street.

“I’m a foreman for a construction company, but I like to help out with the carpentry when I can.” He smiled. “You’ve got a good nose on you.”

“I get that a lot. I’m a—”

“Don’t tell me,” he said. “I bet I can guess.”

“Go on, then.”

“Something in an office. Something arty?”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “Graphic design. How did you guess?”

He grinned and took her hand, holding it up. “Ink smudge on your finger. I figured that meant you worked with pens. The art bit was a lucky guess. Since most places use computers exclusively, I thought it could be from sketching something?”

“Wow, you’re better at this than me. It was from a quick sketch I did during a consultation. I guess the shower I took didn’t remove it.”

He smiled and lowered her hand again. Maybe she should have held on, instead. So far he was definitely meeting all her criteria for a good guy.

There was a small coffee shop a few blocks from the theater. It was overpriced, but it was also comfy and cozy. Perfect for a chat over a cup of something hot.

They arrived at the shop to find it practically deserted. Craig had obviously been there before, as he knew one of the baristas. They shared a solid handshake and smile before Craig led Michelle to a corner booth.

“You know him, then?” she asked as they settled in.

“Yeah, he’s a…well, a family friend, I guess. Known him for a while now.”

“Does that mean we get a discount?”

Craig laughed. “I should hope so.”

The barista, who Craig introduced as Philippe, came over and took their orders. They both ordered a standard coffee, and Michelle opted for a sandwich where Craig decided on a bagel.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Michelle said. “What do you do when you’re not working or meeting strange women in hotels?”

Craig colored slightly. “Well, that was a first time for me. Definitely fun, though. Let’s see…I like outdoorsy stuff. I hunt a little, but for food, not sport, and I love a good long hike into the hills. I’m not much for sports, though, and sometimes nothing beats a quiet night on the sofa with a good book or a movie.”

“You read?”

“At a tenth grade level.” He feigned a lopsided grin that made Michelle snort. “Yeah, I read when I get time. I like thrillers, mostly, with the odd horror thrown in.”

“I’m a big horror nut, myself. Only in book form, though. Can’t watch it.”

Craig nodded. “I know what you mean. Especially these ‘torture porn’ things, where it’s all about being gross. Not my kind of thing.”

“For a minute I thought you were going to say ‘not my kind of porn.’”

He waggled his eyebrows. “That, too. So, what about you?”

“I like to keep fit, though that usually involves my treadmill rather than leaving the house. I like to read, like I said, and TV is nice when I’m not in the mood for anything else. I like to draw and paint, too, as you could probably guess from my career choice. Managed to sell a few pictures, too.”

“Really? That’s great! I’ve never been much of an artist, really, but I enjoy looking at it.”

“You should come over and see my bedroom, then.” She bit her lip. “I meant, uh, to see my art. It’s on the walls.”

“That’d be nice.” His eyes widened suddenly as if he remembered something. “Oh, about your e-mail. You asked if I had a friend, but you didn’t mention why. My housemate is single, and he and I are not averse to shar—” He spotted as Michelle started to blush. “Oh! You meant for a friend of yours, didn’t you.”