The Trouble With Valentine's Day (25 page)

He laughed and set the sunglasses on top of the cash register. His dark head dipped, blotting out everything but him. “Anytime, babe,” he whispered just above her lips.

Her hands grasped the front of his shirt. “Rob, I think—”

“Don't think.” He pressed one of her hands over his heart, and she felt the strong beat against her palm. “Just feel. Feel what you do to me. Feel what happens when I'm around you.” His mouth covered hers and blotted out everything but the warm male scent of his body filling her lungs, the slick tangle and slide of their tongues, and the taste of him. He tasted good, like passion fruit and lust.

He tilted his head to one side and turned up the heat. The kiss turned hotter, wetter, and he peeled her fingers from his shirt and slid her hands up and around his neck.

He gently sucked her tongue into his mouth, and she swayed against him. He pressed a hand to the small of her back and brought her breasts in contact with his solid chest. Her nipples tightened as desire pulled like a knot in her stomach, a visceral reaction to the taste of his mouth, the touch of his hands, and the heavy bulge brushing against her lower belly. Her body remembered his and wanted more of the pleasure he could give.

His kiss was like the hot buttered rum she'd drunk the first night they'd met. It tasted very good in her mouth and spread fire throughout her body, heating up the pit of her stomach and making her light-headed. The kiss turned urgent, needy, like he wanted to suck the air from her lungs. He was so good at making her body react to his, and making her forget exactly why she should avoid any sort of relationship. She tore her mouth from his. “I can't do this,” she said as she took deep breaths. “I came here to talk about Stanley and your mother. We shouldn't do this again.”

“Sure we should.”

No they shouldn't. He was bad for her. He'd crush her heart and she didn't think she could take another heartbreak. She turned her face away. “I think we should just be friends.”

“I can't be just your friend now.” He touched her chin and brought her gaze back to his. “The other night when I came to the M&S, I didn't plan on making love to you. I didn't even know why I was knocking on the door until you answered. Then I saw you standing there and I knew.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I'm drawn to you, Kate. I used to think it was just sex. That I just wanted to get you naked, but it's more than that now. I like talking to you and being with you. I look for you in a crowd or the second I walk into the grocery store, and most of the time I don't even know I'm doing it.” He brushed his nose back and forth against hers. “After I made love to you the first time, I should have taken you home and made love to you in my bed. All night long.” He paused and his voice got lower, rougher when he spoke again. “That's what I wanted to do then. And what I want to do now.” He pulled his head back. “I think about you when you're not around, and the really pathetic part is, I'm not sure you even like me very much.”

“I like you,” she whispered and ran her fingers through the back of his fine hair. He seemed to know just what to say to wear down her resistance. “Even when I try really hard not to like you.”

He grasped her waist, picked her up, and sat her back down on the counter. “Just think of all the fun we could have if you didn't try so hard.” He stepped between her legs and pushed his hands beneath her skirt. He slid his palms up the tops of her thighs. The warmth of his touch spread to her crotch.

She grabbed his wrists, and with her last shred of sanity said, “We can't do this here. I have to go back to work.”

He kissed the side of her neck. “What are you wearing?”

She tilted her head to one side. Okay, one more minute. “A skirt.”

“No.” His fingers brushed the edge of her panties. “Here. It feels like lace.”

“It is.”

“What color?”

What color?
At the moment she couldn't recall. “White.” Maybe?

He groaned deep in his throat and pulled back far enough to look into her face. “Show me.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“Someone might come in.”

“No one's coming in.”

“The last time I was here, two little boys walked in.”

He moved his hands up the outsides of her thighs and pressed his thumbs into the lace covering her crotch. “Your panties are wet.”

“I have to go help Stanley,” she said on an intake of breath. “The store gets busy around five.”

He smiled. “We have over an hour then.”

“Someone could walk in here,” she protested once again, but she didn't remove his hand.

He slid a thumb beneath her underwear and touched her there. “Do you care?”

Did she? He stroked her slick flesh and she couldn't remember the question. Oh yeah. “Someone could walk in.”

“Pull up your skirt so I can chew off your panties.”

Could she let a man she'd only had sex with once in a dark store chew off her underwear? Right now? She looked into his heavy eyes, filled with lust and the promise of great sex. She slid her hands down his shoulder and arms and pulled her skirt above her waist.

He smiled and lowered his gaze down the front of her shirt to her thighs. “I've wanted to do this for a long time now.” He kissed her mouth and the side of her neck, then he knelt in front of her. He raised his gaze to hers, and his smile was filled with the promise of dark, delicious sin. “Put your feet on my shoulders,” he said as he pulled her bottom to the edge of the counter.

Kate planted her hands behind her as he kissed the inside of her knee and worked his way down. He didn't waste time on foreplay. He just got busy. He pulled her panties aside, then he drew her to his mouth. The immediate, hot suction of his warm mouth stole her breath, and her head fell back.

He kissed between her thighs the way he kissed her mouth, with overwhelming passion, drawing mindless sounds of pleasure from her throat and from his. She closed her eyes as desire pulsed and beat just below her skin, out of control and curling her toes inside her shoes.

He caressed her with his tongue, pressing into her slick flesh and drawing her into his mouth for a luscious kiss that nearly sent her over the edge. Repeatedly, he coaxed her to the point of orgasm only to back off and nibble on the inside of her thigh and touch her with his fingers. Each time he took her higher, farther, until a deep, shattering orgasm took her apart. It started in the pit of her abdomen and worked its way outward, rushing across her skin like liquid fire. Her fingers and the backs of her knees tingled, and she heard herself call out his name. It seemed to go on forever and then he was above her, kissing her and touching her breasts through her clothes.

Like always, desire surrounded him, hot and vital. Kate felt the relentless force of it as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his throat and he reached for his wallet. He removed a condom from inside and she took it from him. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them and his white briefs down his thighs.

Kate took his thick penis in her hand and rolled the thin latex over the head and down the long shaft to the base. Rob looked at her, fire and need and greed burning in his eyes as she positioned him. His mouth lowered to hers and his tongue thrust into her mouth as he entered her body, plunging so fully, so deep, that if she hadn't been so ready, he would have hurt her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist as he drove into her, again and again, hard and deep. She clung to him, welcoming each thrust of his pumping hips and feeling each stroke push her toward orgasm once more.

Rob tore his mouth from hers and crushed her against his chest. His fingers tangled in her hair as he plunged into her one last time. He held her that way, tight against his chest, until their breathing returned to normal. “That was . . .” He spoke into the top of her head. “. . . I'm not quite sure, but I believe that was the best . . . I don't think I've ever come like that.” He lowered his hands and rubbed the tops of her bare thighs. “Thank you, Kate.”

She pulled back and looked into his face. “You're welcome, but you did all the work.”

“Yeah.” A crooked smile twisted his lips. “But it's the kind of work I don't mind doing.” He pulled out of her and reached for his briefs. He zipped up his pants, then helped her off the counter. Her underwear was twisted to one side, and she moved quickly to the bathroom at the rear of the store and slipped inside.

She took care of business, then turned on the water to wash her hands. She looked into the mirror above the sink and at the reflection staring back at her. Her hair was messed up, her cheeks were flushed, and her bottom lips looked chapped from Rob's soul patch. She looked like a woman who'd just had sex.

The water ran over her hands as she stared at herself. She'd just had sex on the front counter and anyone in town could have walked in. “Oh my God,” she whispered. Her face got hot and her ears started to buzz. She couldn't believe she'd just done that.

“Kate.” Rob rapped on the door. “If you're finished, I need to get in there.”

She turned off the water and dried her hands. She opened the door but couldn't quite look into his face. She slid past him, and he grabbed her arm.

“Stay right here.” He let go of her and unzipped his pants. He pushed down his briefs, and she turned her back to him.

“Geez, close the door. Isn't that kind of personal?”

“Honey, we just moved beyond personal.” He dropped the condom in the toilet and flushed. She heard him zip his pants, then turn on the faucets. “It doesn't get much more personal than me going down on you on my checkout counter,” he said as he dried his hands with paper towels.

“I can't believe I just did that.” She put her palms on her cheeks. “Someone could have walked in the door and seen . . . you . . . your face . . .”

He turned her around and threw the paper towel away. “The door was locked.”

“What?”

He grasped her wrists and looked into her face. “No one could get in. I locked the door when I let out the guy looking at mountain bikes.” He gave her a quick kiss, then took her hand in his and led her from the back room. “Two fantasies down. Nine hundred and ninety-eight to go.”

“You locked the door?”

“Yep. Couldn't have anyone walking in on us.”

Her feet slowed. “You were that sure I'd have sex with you?”

“Hell no.” He turned and looked at her. “Where you're concerned, I never know what to expect. I just like to be prepared. I'm like a Boy Scout.”

She laughed, and they continued toward the door.

“Come home with me.”

“I have to work until six.”

“I'll pick you up afterward. We can have some dinner and then you can show me your tattoo.” He raised her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I'll just drive across the parking lot at six.”

“No, I'll drive out to your house.” She wanted her car, just in case there was a problem. Not that she was going to look for one. She was going to be optimistic if it killed her.

He slid his lips to the inside of her wrist, then dropped her hand. “If you're not at my house by six-thirty,” he said as he unlocked the big double doors, “I'm going to come looking for you.”

“Are you afraid I won't show?”

“I told you I never know what to expect out of you.”

“I'll be there,” she said as she walked away. She moved to the curb and glanced back to see if he was watching her.

He was.

He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his weight resting on one leg, and his head tilted to one side.

Rob Sutter was a heartbreak just waiting to happen, but not unless a girl was foolish enough to fall in love with him. His past proved he was bad at relationships, but if a girl didn't want that from him, it wasn't an issue.

Kate moved between two parked cars next to a light pole. If all a girl wanted or expected was a real good time, remorseless lust, then Rob Sutter was definitely her guy.

Two fantasies down. Nine hundred and ninety-eight to go
, he'd said. If all a girl wanted was a fantasy man, Rob Sutter would be perfect in that capacity.

Seventeen

Nine hundred and ninety-seven to go.

Kate lay in a tangle of sheets and legs, Rob's moist mouth in the small of her back and his hands on her behind.

“Your tattoo turns me on.”

A lot of things turned him on. Her walking in his front door had had him jumping on her like a duck on a bug. At least they'd made it to his bed this time.

She turned, and his mouth found her navel. Her stomach growled, although at the moment she wasn't sure if she was more hungry for him or for food.

He rose and sat back on his heels. “Want something to eat?”

Golden sunlight from the window spread across Rob's bed, filtering through dark, fine hair covering the thick definition of his chest muscles and flat ridges of his stomach. A dark, happy trail circled his navel, leading straight down his lower belly to his pubic hair and his erection. A long, angry scar ran from his sternum to his navel, marring the perfection of his body.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Ham sandwiches.” He got up from the bed and moved to his dresser. He pulled on a pair of gym shorts and tossed her a big T-shirt with a hockey logo on the front. As they made their way to the kitchen they stepped over her panties and his briefs in the middle of the bedroom, her bra and his shirt on the stairs, and her dress by the front door.

The kitchen light shone off the pots and pans and the stainless steel appliances. Rob opened the refrigerator and looked inside. “Did your grandfather mention that he asked my mother to marry him?”

“Yes.” Her gaze took in the gold scales etched in black on his shoulder and down the left side of his smooth back. The tattoo dipped beneath the waistband of his shorts and appeared again wrapping around his right thigh. Earlier, she'd run her fingertips across the tattoo. Rob had shivered and the snake had seemed to come alive and move across his skin. Two small scars marked his back about a hand's width apart. “My grandfather told me when he got home last night. When did you hear the news?”

“This morning.” He set a jar of mayonnaise, a head of lettuce, a package of ham, and two wheat beers on the work island. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about earlier when you brought over the granola bars.” He moved to the pantry and grabbed a loaf of bread. “But I got sidetracked. Remember?”

Yes, she remembered. “What do you think of their plans?” Kate asked and grabbed a bottle opener that was stuck on the refrigerator. She popped the tops and handed him a bottle.

“I told her she didn't have to get married just because she slept with Stanley.” He raised the beer. “And she reminded me that the most serious problems in my life were caused by sex outside of marriage.” He took a long drink, then sucked a drop from the corner of his lips. “I think if I'd been nine, she would have smacked me.”

Kate laughed. “I said about the same thing to my grandfather, and his reaction was pretty much like your mother's. He actually used the word
fornication
as if it was a
bad
thing.”

Rob's laughter joined Kate's, and he set down the bottle and took eight slices of bread from the bag. As Rob spread mayonnaise on the bread, Kate tore lettuce and watched him out of the corners of her eyes. She liked the way his tattoo moved when he flexed his arms. In fact, there was a lot to like about him. His broad, hairy chest and flat abs were high on her list.

“If Stanley makes her happy, then I'm happy. It'll be a little weird at first.” Rob piled ham on the bread, then cut the sandwiches with the knife. “Will this make me your uncle or your cousin?”

She hadn't thought of that. “Let's just say neither.”

He put the sandwiches on a plate and looked down into her face. “You know what they say?”

She gazed up past his mustache and nose and into his eyes. “What?”

“Incest is best.” He lightly took her chin between his fingers and kissed her mouth. “Of course, I don't know that firsthand.”

“I'm glad you cleared that up.”

Together they moved to the dining room to sit at the long, formal table. In between bites of sandwich and potato chips, he told her it was the first time he'd eaten in the room. He talked about his daughter and the plans he had for them when she was old enough to visit during the summer months.

“Why do you live in Gospel?” she asked as she pushed her plate aside after one sandwich.

“My mother lives here.”

“But your daughter lives in Seattle. It sounds like you miss her.”

“I miss her a lot.” He took a bite, then washed it down with beer. “At first I moved here to recuperate because my mom's a nurse. She helped me with my physical therapy, but mostly I couldn't stand to live in Seattle and not play hockey. It reminds me of everything I used to have and everything I lost.” He placed the bottle on the table, and his green eyes stared into hers. “I used to think I moved here because my mother's here. The truth is I came here because I needed a change.” He reached for a chip and munched on it. “I ended up staying because I like it here.” He washed the chip down with his beer. “Don't you want another sandwich?”

“One's my limit.”

“Now it's my turn to ask you a question.”

She took a drink from her beer, then set it back down. “What?”

“Why do you live in Gospel?”

“My grandfather needs me,” was the easy answer.

He scratched the scar running down his bare chest and leaned his chair back on two legs. “Not buying it. Your grandmother's been dead for more than two years.”

She looked over at him, her relaxed, sexy fantasy man. What did it matter what she told him? It wasn't as if she should hold back for fear of killing the relationship. She pushed her hair behind her ears and told him about Randy Meyers. How she'd found his family for him and what he'd done with the information she'd given him. She told him how Randy had looked and seemed so normal.

“You can't always tell a crazy person by looking,” she said.

Rob nodded. “Stephanie Andrews didn't look crazy until she shot me. The scariest thing about crazy people is that they can look so normal.”

He was right.

“Did you see Kathy Bates in
Misery
?” he asked as the legs of his chair hit the floor. “She was scary as hell.” He reached for another sandwich and took a bite.

“Yes she was, Mr. Man.”

He laughed and swallowed. “So you quit your job and moved to Gospel because a psycho nut killed his family?”

That was one reason. “I quit because I could no longer tell myself that the people I tracked down were lowlifes and deserved to be found and that I was somehow better.”

“You came here for a change just like me,” he said as if it was fact.

“Maybe.”

“Do you think you'll ever go back?”

“To detective work?” She shook her head.

“To Vegas?”

She thought a moment. Vegas had chewed her to pieces and spit her out, but sometimes she really missed the bright lights of the big city that truly never slept. “Maybe. I've spent a lot of my life there. That's where I graduated my last year of high school, and I went to ULV. That's where I used to party like a rock star and later got my PI license. It always felt like home to me. Maybe it will again.”

Rob polished off his sandwich and hers, then he took her back upstairs. They had sex against the granite wall of his shower, taking care of fantasy number nine hundred and ninety-six. Afterward, he dried her off and they watched the ten o'clock news. He fell into an exhausted sleep during the weather report.

Kate removed his arm from her waist and gathered her shoes and underwear. She looked at him one last time, asleep within the tangle of sheets and the sliver of moonlight pouring across the bed. She walked downstairs and pulled her dress over her head. She stepped into her shoes and shoved her panties and bra into her little black bag.

Then she left, quietly shutting the door behind her, because that's what you did with a fantasy man. You left before you did something stupid like spend the night. Before you could fool yourself into thinking that what you had was real.

Rob walked into the M&S the next morning, and his gaze instantly sought Kate. She stood behind the counter ringing up items from a blue plastic basket for Regina Cladis. She looked good. Good like something he wanted to toss over his shoulder and carry home. The older woman said something and Kate laughed, a warm, amused sound that seeped between his rib bones and lodged in his chest.

“Morning, Rob,” Stanley called out to him from his position at the coffee machine.

“Hello, Stanley.”

“Hey, Rob,” Dillon Taber said from behind his coffee mug.

“Hey, Sheriff. How's it goin'?” Rob asked as he walked through the store to the counter.

“Can't complain.”

Kate looked up at him. The corners of her mouth curved just a little, as if she was trying
very
hard not to smile. She wore a white shirt that closed with laces across her breasts and had some sort of black thing beneath it. The shirt wasn't real tight, and it didn't show off anything fun, but it still managed to be sexy as all hell.

“You should try the jalapeño jelly,” he told Regina as he moved behind her in line. “It's really good.”

“That's what Kate says.” Regina turned and squinted at him through her thick glasses. “But I'm going to pass.”

“Okay, but yesterday I saw Iona fighting with Ada over a jar.”

Her magnified eyes narrowed. “Why would they fight over the same jar?”

He hadn't thought of that. “Who knows what drives some women to drop their gloves.”

“Huh?”

“Here's your change, Regina,” Kate said through a smile that she could no longer contain.

As soon as the older woman grabbed her bag and walked away, Rob took her place at the counter. “We need to talk about somethin', babe.”

Her smile flattened. “You're calling me babe again.”

“I know.” He placed his hands on the counter and leaned closer. “Do you want to talk here, or somewhere more private?”

She glanced around the store, then her brown eyes met his. “My grandfather's office.”