Vegas Two-Step (20 page)

He twisted the brass doorknob and stuck his head in. “Hello?”

“Come in. I’m just finishing up in the kitchen.” She sounded out of breath.

Jack stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He was immediately assaulted by the sheer rightness of the room before him. Tiffany lamps flanked an overstuffed couch while warm golden walls highlighted a staircase arching above a built-in bookcase—it was the sort of room that made him want to sink into the squat chair in the corner and pull out the day’s paper. Perhaps Dutch at his feet and squabbling kids upstairs rattling the floor. Nellie would come out of the kitchen and call them down for supper.

He shook the image from his head and closed the door behind him. Stop being a moron. He was here for dinner, not eternity.

Across the cozy living room sat a grand dining room table covered in a lacy white cloth complete with flickering candles. Soft jazz played in the background. Nice.

And then the smells hit him—warm buttery cake along with something fried. He thought about Bubba’s leftover lunches and his stomach growled. Jack headed for the kitchen like a guided missile toward its target.

“Smells good,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen.

Nellie glanced up. She had a spatula in one hand and a huge half-iced cake in front of her. Chocolate frosting smudged one cheek. He forgot about food.

“Right on time,” she said, scooping more frosting from the bowl and smearing it on the cake. “I appreciate a man who’s punctual.”

He took her in as she went back to work. She’d pulled her hair into a bun. It might have looked severe except a few tendrils had escaped to curl around her flushed cheeks. Perched on her nose were the hideous glasses, thick as a magnifying glass and rimmed in gunmetal gray. Her lips were pink and glossy above a horrible ruffled yellow apron that disappeared beneath the table.

“Oh, hello. I’m looking for Nellie Hughes. Is she here?” Jack tried for a straight face, but failed miserably.

She dropped the spoon in the bowl and stuck her hands on her hips. “Oh, very funny.”

That’s when he noticed her shoulders and arms were bare beneath the apron and he could see the outline of her nipples.

His mouth went dry. Was she naked under the apron?

Nellie turned around and reached for a paper towel.

Hello. He’d never encountered a better sight than her bare derriere beneath the limp yellow bow around her waist.

She turned around, lips twitching and eyes gleaming. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

Jack couldn’t seem to make his mouth work. His tongue was glued to his teeth. He couldn’t even swallow. His mind was trying to wrap itself around the fact that Miss Nellie Hughes stood in her kitchen naked beneath a ruffled old-fashioned apron, calmly asking him if he’d like a glass of wine.

“Jack?” she said. “Wine?”

“Hmm? Yeah.” He nodded.

She spun around and leaned over to the small wine rack resting in the corner of the cabinet. One foot came off the floor and the curve of her breast strained against the bib of the apron. He had to clench his fists to stop from reaching for her. Hell, he needed to find some control, some cool, some of the unflappable Jack Darby who’d existed long ago.

“So you decided against the thong?” Jack said, finally finding his voice.

“Huh?” Nellie said, standing on tiptoe and pulling down two crystal goblets.

“I said I see you’ve decided to go without the thong. Your invite said it was optional.”

“Oh.” She set the goblets next to the cake pan. Her forehead wrinkled. “Yeah, I decided against it. They’re really uncomfortable.”

“I know. Mine’s killing me.” He grinned.

Nellie’s eyes widened. “You’re wearing a thong?”

“You said it was optional, so I decided to give it a whirl. I hope you really didn’t want yours back. It was a tight fit.”

She laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Wanna find out?” he asked, moving around the table toward the vixen who seemed determined to drive him wild and enjoy every moment of doing so.

She stuck one hand in the middle of his chest, effectively stopping him from closing the distance between them. “Nope. I want some wine. Will you open it? The cork-screw’s in the drawer behind you, I think.”

He tucked his hands in his pockets to keep from hauling her up against him. So, it was her turn to play games. Okay, he was willing as long as she didn’t cover that beautiful ass. He opened the drawer and found the opener.

Nellie completed icing the cake. She offered him a frosting-covered beater. He shook his head and handed her a glass of chardonnay. She set the wine on the counter and then looked him directly in the eye before raising a beater to her lips. He wanted to shout,
Stop. Don’t do it,
but couldn’t bring himself to prevent the kinky torture of Nellie licking every drop of chocolate frosting from the beater. He even flinched when she moaned, “Mmm.”

She spun around and dropped both beaters into the soapy dishwater, presenting him once again with the loveliest of views. Jack decided he’d never seen an ass as fine as hers. She looked over her shoulder and gave him the biggest come-hither smile. “Ready to eat?”

Jack nearly came undone. Nearly.

“It looks delicious.” He returned her smile with one of his own, one dripping with sexual promise. Every naughty thing he’d ever considered doing to her flitted through his head. He could tell she recognized the lewd thoughts—she looked both anxious and turned-on. Good.

“Oh, it is,” she promised. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll serve you.”

“Every man’s dream,” he said, not moving one inch. He pretty much had her blocked. Penned in. Right where he wanted her.

Nellie eyed the pots sitting on the stove. “Go ahead. It’s getting cold.”

“From where I’m standing, it looks pretty hot. Burning hot.” Jack lifted one brow.

She seemed unaffected, because she shoved right by him, scooting out of reach, and pulled the warming drawer open. A platter of golden fried chicken appeared in her hand. She spun around and sauntered to the dining room table.

“Damn,” he muttered beneath his breath. He wasn’t sure he could do it. He felt like a junkie who hadn’t had his smack in weeks. He damn near shook with the need to throw her onto the table and do away with the niceties. To hell with talking it out, coming to a decision. Miss Hughes was playing with fire.

He wiped the sweat dotting his forehead, snatched the two goblets of wine and headed to the dining room. He’d do his best, but he wouldn’t be held responsible if he couldn’t finish dinner.

Nellie smiled at him as he sat down in the cushioned Chippendale chair as if she was Miss Suzy Homemaker and not the very bad girl she truly was. “Here we go. I’ll just go get the corn bread and we can get started.”

He watched as she spun around, thinking it was time to finish rather than start. Things had started a long time ago. Of course, Nellie knew exactly what she was doing, clacking back and forth bare-assed. It wasn’t until she leaned over to ladle peas on his plate that he figured out two could play at this game.

He reached for his wine, brushing the outline of her nipple. Satisfied at hearing the intake of her breath, he murmured, “Oops. Sorry.”

Nellie jerked back. “No problem.”

Jack let his napkin slip from his lap, revealing his raging erection. He bent to retrieve it, allowing his hand to slide under her apron and squeeze one sweet cheek.

She swatted his hand. “Hey!”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry. I always wanted to do that.”

“To me or to someone else?”

He shrugged. “Just waiting for the opportunity to present itself.”

Her eyes narrowed. She slung a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “The gravy is in the gravy boat.”

He wondered what in the hell a gravy boat was.

Nellie strutted back into the kitchen, bottom swaying, breasts jiggling enough to tempt a saint. Jack clenched his teeth. He picked up the wineglass and downed it in one motion. She came back with a pan of corn bread. Red mitts covered her hands. She looked pretty cute in her yellow apron and tight bun. Ugly glasses aside, he thought he could really get into the nerdy-librarian-gone-wild scenario. Definitely a turn-on.

Nellie popped the mitts off her hands and sat down opposite him. “I hope you like it. It’s about as traditional Southern as I could get. Here.” She thrust some type of genie lamp at him.

He took it and then wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with it.

“It’s the gravy,” she said, sticking a fork in a small tray of sliced tomatoes and dishing a few onto her plate.

“Oh.” He ladled the creamy country-style gravy over his potatoes and selected a piece of chicken from the platter in the center of the table. He loved fried chicken but didn’t indulge in such artery-hardening food very often. Having Nellie cook for him was a big treat. And if it tasted as good as it looked, and if he had a shot at being the man she cooked such fabulous dinners for all the time, he needed to buy bigger jeans.

He picked up his fork and scooped up some peas. She smiled as if anticipating his response. Then he felt her foot snaking up the leg of his pants, sliding higher and higher until it reached his knee.

“Fire,” Jack whispered after swallowing the first bite.

Nellie took a sip of wine, her eyes as innocent as a schoolmarm’s. “Pardon?”

“You’re playing with fire.”

She smiled brightly but her foot didn’t budge, just moved back and forth beneath his pant leg, stroking the fire raging within him.

“I always liked playing with fire. Fascinating to see what would happen.”

Jack leaned forward and blew out the candles on the table. The room darkened, but he could still see the sparkle in Nellie’s eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” she asked.

“Because I don’t want the house to burn down while I teach you why you shouldn’t play with fire.”

“It’ll keep.” He leered at her. Her apron gaped, allowing him to see straight down to her belly. He licked his lips. Her nipples tightened in response.

“No, it won’t. Have you ever had cold mashed potatoes?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into his citrusy, scratchy neck. He smelled good—like hot, sexy man with something to prove.

His lips descended and all thoughts of lumpy potatoes and cold gravy fled. His mouth was demanding and tasted like wine. Delicious.

She pulled back. “Okay. I like cold fried chicken anyway.”

He grinned and nipped one shoulder. “Upstairs?”

She nodded. “But you can put me down. I don’t want to be responsible for throwing your back out. That would take the romance out of it, huh?”

Jack silenced her with a kiss. “Baby, I could tote you to Vegas and back and still want to carry you up those stairs.”

“Get goin’ then. I’ve been ready for this since you walked in the door.”

He took the steps nearly two at a time. Her hip bounced against the evidence of his arousal, and by the time she’d pointed him toward her bedroom, she was nearly crazy with desire. He stormed in, dropped her on the bed and then covered her with his body. He felt better than chocolate, better than a stack of brand-new crisp novels, better than a half-price shoe sale.

Really good.

So Nellie relished it—the feel of his body against hers, so hard, so heavy, so absolutely right. He slid his hands to frame her face and peered into her eyes. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, Nellie, but I’ve got to know.”

She placed her hands on either side of Jack’s face. “Know what? That I was foolish? That I wished a thousand times I had stayed that night? Fought for you, for what I felt for you?”

“No, that’s all passed,” he whispered, lowering his head to pepper soft kisses along her jaw. He lifted his head. His blue eyes glittered in the waning light of the day. “I got to know if it’s real. If you want us, Nellie.”

She slid one of his hands from her cheek and softly kissed the pad of each finger. It was a lover’s caress, meant to be sweet, to impart all the swirling feelings inside her. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here now, lying in my bed. The same bed I lay in and dreamed in for so many years. Dreamed about love, about the man I would call mine one day.”

She felt moisture gather in her eyes. She was helpless to stop its path down her cheeks. “I love you, Jack. I’ve loved you since Vegas.”

His mouth covered hers, so soft, so tender. His fingers wiped the tears away. For as long as she lived and breathed upon the earth, she would never forget that moment—the moment she gave her heart away to Jack Darby. So simple, and so profound. Emotion choked her, yet her heart soared at the wonder of it.

Jack lifted his mouth from hers and smoothed back the tendrils curling about her cheeks. His eyes spoke a million words. She smiled at him. “Is that what you needed?”

“It’s a start,” he whispered against her mouth before capturing it again in a soft kiss. She surrendered to him as tenderness ebbed, replaced by passion. She enjoyed the way his lips played against hers, the way his hands softly stroked her face. She twined her arms around his shoulders and caressed the hair brushing his neck.

Jack pulled away and rolled to his side, propping his head on one hand. He stared down at her, his eyes teasing. His hands trailed down her chin to her neck, dipped into the hollow above her collarbone before plunging between her breasts.

“This is the ugliest apron I’ve ever seen,” he said, tracing the ruffled edge over her breasts. She felt molten desire flow through her. It pooled deep in her stomach, uncurling and snaking its way to the inner recesses of her body.

“It was my grandmother’s,” she said, gazing down at his finger as it traced the top of her breast. Her breath grew labored. She wanted to rip the apron off and let him put his hands all over her.

“Let’s ditch it,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. The room was nearly dark, but she could still see the desire raging in Jack’s eyes when she slowly rolled over onto her stomach, leaving her backside completely bare.

“Sweet, sweet Nellie.” His hands feathered down her back, resting on the dimple right above her bottom. “I don’t think I’ll need any dinner. I could eat you up, baby.”

Nellie couldn’t even affect a giggle. His words were lava hot and made her feel like her skin was on fire. “Hurry, Jack.”

His hands leisurely plucked at the apron strings knotted at her waist. They came free, but Jack seemed content to stroke her skin, sliding his hands from the top of her shoulders to the curve just under her bottom. It was slow, sweet torment.

She wriggled. “Jack, please.”

He chuckled, “Slow down, Nellie. This is our time, babe. The beginning for us. We’ve got all night. All night.”

Nellie pushed herself up onto one elbow. She slid a hand up and pulled the pins from her hair then tossed them onto her nightstand. A mass of curls tumbled about her shoulders. Jack’s eyes didn’t even follow the progress of her hand or the way the light played on her hair. He was staring at her breasts, at the way they jiggled as she shook her hair free, at the way her rosy nipples brushed the homespun quilt covering her bed.

“Let’s ditch your clothes, Jack.”

She watched as he scrambled out of his clothes like a man possessed. She was certain he broke record times for undressing. She delivered a sultry laugh as she looped the apron over her head and pulled it free. She tossed it behind her and lay before him, absolutely naked except for the high-heeled sandals on her feet.

Nellie rolled over onto her side. One hand cushioned her head, the other cupped one of her breasts. She smiled.

“Damn,” he muttered, yanking his boxers off and kicking them into a corner. Then he just stood and stared.

She felt naughty. She could see the raw need in his eyes. Not to mention the very hard and protruding evidence much lower.

She allowed her hand to slide away from her breast, over her flat stomach, toward the juncture of her thighs. Jack’s eyes glittered. His nostrils flared.

So she lifted one knee and trailed her fingers over the smooth inside of her thigh. She could already feel the dampness there. She was more than ready for Jack. But first, a bit of fun.

Nellie rolled onto her back but left her leg bent. It opened her to his gaze. She used one hand to cup a breast, the other she allowed to slide down her stomach toward the place that ached for him. “Wanna help a girl out, Jack?”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He grabbed one of her ankles and jerked her to him. She flew across the bed. There was nothing graceful or sexy about it. “Jack!”

“You’re about to pay for that little peep show,” he ground out, pulling her to the edge of the bed and settling between her legs. He leaned forward, allowing his erection to rub her most intimate place. She was slick and the friction of Jack against her made her groan. God, she wanted him inside her.

He caught one of her nipples with his mouth. She nearly launched off the bed.

“Make me pay,” Nellie managed to beg, trying to catch her breath. She spun out of control. Beyond caring.

While Jack made love to her breasts, she twined her arms about his neck, stroking and encouraging him. His tongue laved her nipples, teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh, pulling her higher and higher all the while his hips ground into hers. His member probed the entrance to her body, dipping inside and back out, teasing her beyond reason.

Nellie wrapped her legs round his waist and pulled him to her. “Please, Jack. I can’t wait.”

He obliged, driving his hips forward and filling her. Nellie nearly came undone. She lifted her hips and met each thrust. It felt like heaven. Jack’s mouth captured hers, his tongue thrusting into her, mimicking the pace below.

His hands grasped her hips and lifted her off the bed. “Put your arms around my neck,” he murmured against her. Nellie, lost in the throes of passion, would’ve done anything he suggested as long as he continued the tender torment. Wrapping her arms about him was easy. So was twining her legs around him.

He stood, raising her so she rode his length. His hands clasped her hips, lifting her up and down, each stroke deep and fulfilling. She had never felt so exquisite, so perfectly in tune.

His heart thumped against her breasts as his mouth nuzzled the side of her neck. Nellie could feel the orgasm building inside of her.

Jack took several steps and she felt the wall at her back. Using it as leverage, he increased the tempo, thrusting deep within her. Nellie clasped him tightly with her legs and pulled his mouth to hers.

“I love you, Nellie,” he whispered against her lips before he took possession of her mouth.

Nellie shattered against him, her body trembling uncontrollably as she rode a wave of sheer orgasmic pleasure. It seemed never ending, cresting and breaking over and over until she fell limp against the wall. She was so caught up in her mind-altering orgasm she didn’t realize Jack had reached his peak too.

He peeled her from the wall, cradling her and stroking her hair. She was replete, exhausted, yet every nerve sang.

“That was incredible,” he whispered against her temple, kissing her forehead then tilting her head so he could look into her eyes.

So sweet the moment, her eyes glistened. Her heart contracted with love. Sheer happiness flooded her. She belonged to this man. She was his.

Jack smiled and walked to the bed. Gently he lowered her, never once breaking their intimate connection. His body covered hers. He was warm, sheened with sweat. Nellie twined her arms and legs about him and let him rest.

“I love you, Jack Darby,” she whispered against the faint stubble of his five-o’clock shadow.

“I love you too, darling,” Jack whispered back, his breath soft against her hair.

The ceiling fan whirred above them. The room was silent, the moment sacred. They lay, two lovers sated with pleasure.

Jack finally rolled off her. “Bathroom?”

She didn’t move, just pointed to the door across the hall. He pulled her from the bed. “Let’s wash up for dinner. I’m starving.”

Nellie nearly fell as she rose to her feet. She’d forgotten she still wore the sandals. She pulled them off and followed Jack to the bathroom.

Two shakes of a lamb’s tail later, they sat at the previously abandoned dining room table in just their undies, munching on cold fried chicken. It still tasted fabulous. In fact, Jack thought the potatoes were pretty damned good.

He took a gulp of wine. “Ready to talk?”

“What do you mean?” she replied, buttering her corn bread and taking a bite. “We just had the most amazing experience ever.”

“Yeah, but we still got some things to decide. For example, I didn’t wear a condom.”

Nellie stopped chewing. She set her goblet of wine down and stared at it as if it was poison. “Oh, dear Lord, we didn’t.”

He wanted to laugh but stopped himself. He shouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. Children should be planned. “No. I didn’t really think. Usually I do. It’s just that it—”

“—didn’t seem necessary?” she finished. “Like we did it on purpose?”

“No. Not on purpose.” He scooped up a spoonful of peas. “Would it matter? I mean, are you going to marry me?” He looked at Nellie, his heart in his eyes. “Will you marry me?”

She had just taken a sip of wine. Her eyes bulged and then her face grew purple. It took a full five seconds before he realized she was choking.

He sprang from his chair and thumped her on the back. Nellie sputtered. Wine came out of her nose. Then huge racking coughs made her bend over to the side.

“Nell? You okay?”

Nellie nodded her head but remained hunched over. He patted her on the back. “Nellie?”

After a minute, she sat up and grabbed the snowy napkin next to her plate to wipe her mouth. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

He crept back to his place, worried. She was probably mad. He was supposed to propose romantically. Do something cute, like hide the ring in a glass of champagne or on top of a piece of cake. Or flash his proposal on a JumboTron. Hell, he didn’t have a ring. He’d screwed up big-time.

Jack sank back into his chair. “Uh, I guess I shouldn’t have done it this way.”

Nellie’s eyes glistened.

He paused. He needed to rewind. Go back in time. “Look, forget about that. It wasn’t right. We’ve got to clear some things. Okay?”

“So you don’t want to marry me?” Her eyes flashed again.

“No. I mean, yes. I want to marry you. I just think—”

“—too much,” Nellie interrupted. She smiled. “Look, you’re right. We have some things between us. We need to put them behind us before we take a step into the future.”

He nodded. Good. She understood.

She picked up her fork and stabbed it into her chicken breast. “So…I’ll go first.”

She looked at him across the flickering candles she’d lit when they’d returned. Her eyes softened, her features luminous in the glow. “I went to Vegas because I thought I wanted to be someone different. I thought I could make myself…better. Better than just a small-town, frumpy girl stuck in a rut.”