Wilde Thing (9 page)

“That’s great. Every little bit will help.” He caught one last quick glimpse of her sweet curves before she slipped into the thigh-length cover-up and tied the sash around her waist. “It’s amazing how one little detail can lead to something substantial.”

She headed out of the bedroom. He followed her back to the entryway, his eyes drawn to the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, his senses filling with the scent of soft, sexy woman.

She waited quietly while he yanked his T-shirt over his head, secured his weapon and holster back in place, and shrugged into his leather jacket. She watched him avidly, with sensual green eyes that seemed to eat him up. When he finished getting dressed, she handed him the application, which he glanced at briefly before folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket.

She started past him to open the door, but before she could execute the move, he gave in to the urge to catch her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers, open and seeking. Like a woman in sync with her lover’s demands, she wrapped her hands around his neck and responded enthusiastically, without hesitation. Her luscious body melted into his embrace, and she returned the sensual kiss with abandon, telling him without words that she wouldn’t mind if he stayed.

He was unable to suppress a deep groan. Everything male about him acknowledged that she was naked beneath that flimsy robe she wore, that it was just a matter of unzipping his fly, pressing her up against the nearest wall, and sinking right back into her tight, lush body and losing himself once again in her dampness and heat.

God, if he didn’t get the hell out of there, neither one of them would get any sleep tonight, and he’d end up in a morning-after situation he didn’t want or need.

Or so he had to keep reminding himself.

He ended the passionate kiss he’d instigated, and saw the questions in her slumberous eyes, an eager hope that he’d change his mind about staying. He took a much needed step away from her.

“I’m going,” he said, his tone gruff.

She licked her lower lip, and gracefully accepting his decision, she opened the door for him. “Good night, then.”

Their gazes met and held, and he paused, much too long for his own peace of mind. “ ‘Night,” he finally said, then left while he still had the willpower to do so.

The early-morning rush of customers at The Daily Grind kept Liz’s mind occupied and her hands busy making a steady stream of cappuccinos, lattes, and mo-chas.
It was a diversion she welcomed, considering she’d spent too much time thinking after Steve had left her apartment last night—thinking about the incredible foreplay and sex they’d shared and how good it had felt to let go sexually in a way she’d never done before. She’d held nothing back with Steve, mainly because he hadn’t allowed her to retreat. He’d been bold and dominant, yet so generous with her pleasure, and she’d been greedy and utterly shameless. Not that Steve seemed to mind at all.

Despite how tired she’d been after their time together, she’d tossed and turned in her bed, her mind replaying the conversation she’d had with Steve about her marriage—an intimate conversation she’d never intended to have with him. Their relationship was short-term and purely physical and, out of self-preservation, shouldn’t have crossed over into anything emotional or personal.

Yes, he’d been persistent, but she could have refused to talk if she’d really wanted to. Instead, she’d allowed herself to be swayed by his questions, willingly so. With that deep, mesmerizing voice of his, his soothing touch, and the genuine interest she’d seen in his eyes, it had been so easy to open up to him, to reveal details of her relationship with Travis that should have remained private. It had been too long since a man had made her the sole focus of his attention and treated her as if he really cared about what she had to say, and she’d taken advantage of his listening ear. After revealing so much about herself, she was now doubly curious about his own marriage—and especially the female name she’d seen etched on the tribal band around his arm.

Despite sharing part of her personal history with Steve, there were a few emotional issues and deeper secrets she’d managed to keep to herself. While he’d been so understanding about her turbulent marriage,
and even a bit riled over Travis’s thoughtless actions, she didn’t deserve Steve’s vindication on her behalf, because she was hardly faultless.

What she hadn’t revealed was the crushing sense of regret she’d lived with since Travis’s death, for disappointing her aunt and uncle by marrying Travis when she’d known how much they disapproved of him. She’d gone against their wishes, seeking instead the kind of excitement and adventure he’d brought into her life, not realizing that his wild ways would come close to destroying everything she’d worked so hard to attain.

Now she was living with the consequences of her actions and trying to make amends for a past mistake that had not only cost her financially, but she’d also hurt her aunt and uncle with her own rash actions. She was working hard to gain their respect back, to make up for the disappointment she’d caused by letting someone so reckless sweep her off her feet and take advantage of her in the process.

At least with Steve, she knew where they stood with each other right up front. He wouldn’t be sweeping her off her feet, and she instinctively knew he wasn’t a man to take advantage of anyone. Least of all her. Not when she was giving him what he wanted of her own free will.

At ten after ten, when a lull in business finally presented itself and Liz was certain her morning employee, Gloria, had things under control, she heated up a café mocha for Mona and strolled over to The Last Word with her offering. The new-and-used bookstore that connected directly to The Daily Grind already had customers strolling the aisles for a good read, some with one of Liz’s specialty drinks in hand. While her and Mona’s businesses were their own, there was no denying that their patrons enjoyed the services they offered and loved being able to buy a best-selling novel and specialty coffee drink all in one convenient stop.

“Good morning,” Liz greeted, and headed behind the front counter, where Mona was sorting through a box of used books, her movements slow and sluggish. “I brought you an eye-opener.”

Mona’s expression turned grateful, and she eagerly reached for the hot drink. “With a double shot of espresso?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.” Liz grinned.

Mona closed her eyes, took a long whiff of the fragrant vapors curling upward, and moaned in appreciation. “You are so good to me.” She took a tentative drink of the steaming liquid and sighed. “How did you know I needed a good kick of caffeine this morning?”

“You know your mood is a dead giveaway.” Liz leaned against the counter and slipped her hands into the front pockets of her apron, having learned long ago how to judge her friend’s disposition in the morning. “When you don’t cheerfully breeze through the café and yack with all my customers before opening shop, it’s a sure sign that you’re either tired, grumpy, or have something on your mind.”

“Tired,” she murmured, and eyed Liz above the rim of the Styrofoam cup. “And if I wasn’t so out of it, I’d take offense to that ‘yacking’ comment you just made.”

Liz raised a brow, completely unfazed by her friend’s cranky threat. “Late night for you, too?”

“Ummm. My current beau, Brad, took me out dancing until the wee hours of the morning, though I’m guessing my evening wasn’t as interesting as yours.” Mona tipped her head Liz’s way, suddenly seeming very alert and awake. “How was your first night as a phone sex operator?”

Liz wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a career I’d choose to pursue. I think I’ll stick to what I do best, making coffee drinks.”

“Did you find out anything on your cousin?”

“No, not yet. There’s a few girls I’m trying to be
friendly with, and hopefully they’ll eventually open up and give me some information on Valerie, if they even know anything at all.” She cast a quick glance back at the café, making sure that Gloria wasn’t swamped with orders, which she wasn’t. “I’m trying not to get discouraged. Steve did warn me that it could take time.”

Mona nodded in understanding, but her gaze held a deeper curiosity she didn’t hesitate to express. “So, did you at least have a good time talking about sex?”

“Not at first,” she replied wryly. “Some of the callers were downright perverted and lewd.”

Mona laughed. Obviously, the caffeine was kicking in and perking up her spirits. “That’s only because they were strangers.” She took another fortifying drink. “How did your call with Steve go?”

Liz had told Mona about her plan with Steve, to use him to get invited to one of The Ultimate Fantasy parties. “It was okay,” she said, deliberately vague.

Mona’s gaze narrowed skeptically. “Just okay?”

“All right, it was
good.”
Her face flushed in remembrance, and she modified her rating. “Better than good.”

A wide grin spread across Mona’s face. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff.” A customer walked up to the counter with an armful of books, and Mona held up a stern finger at Liz. “Hold that thought.”

As if Mona would let her drop the subject now that she’d managed to make Liz fess up. Liz waited while Mona rang up her customer and bagged the books for the older woman, and then she was back, anxious and eager to hear more.

“Spill all the juicy details,” Mona said.

Liz gave her friend a very brief, clean-cut version of her phone conversation with Steve last night, not wanting to share just how sizzling and erotic the episode had been. She avoided specifics, giving Mona just enough information to draw her own conclusions, without really confirming anything at all.

Mona nodded. “So, things are working out between you and Steve, then, yes?”

“With business and finding Valerie, yes,” Liz replied, deliberately misconstruing Mona’s meaning.

“Your
business
with him happens to include hot and steamy phone sex,” she said, and continued sorting the used paperbacks from the box on the counter. “So I’m assuming that your two-way banter was mutually satisfying?”

She absently turned the pencil in her pocket between her fingers. “Umm, you could say that.” While Steve might have been the only one who’d climaxed from their phone conversation, he’d made up for that in spades later, as he’d promised.

Mona must have caught the dreamy smile that curved her lips, because she pounced on it like the curious feline she was. “It appears to me that the two of you have more than business going on.” She gave Liz a quick once-over, then grinned slyly. “You slept with him last night, didn’t you?”

Although an instinctive denial rose to her throat, Mona was her best friend, and Liz couldn’t bring herself to lie to her—not when she trusted Mona unconditionally with something as private as her relationship with Steve. “Yeah, I did.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Mona stared at her in awed delight. “I knew you had it in you, and it’s about time.”

Liz shrugged, playing it off. “It’s nothing serious.”

“Nobody said it had to be,” Mona said pragmatically but with genuine caring. “Just enjoy yourself, and Mr. Wilde, for as long as it lasts.”

Now, that was something she could easily agree with. “I intend to.”

“Tell me one thing I’m dying to know.” Mona leaned toward her and lowered her voice secretively, obviously trying to keep her question just between them and out
of earshot of any customers. “Was he as good in the sack as he looks?”

Memories of just how good he was filtered through Liz’s mind, and her heart picked up its beat, making her feel like a teenager with a crush on the school bad boy. That was how he made her feel—young and vibrantly alive. And anxious to see him again.

“He was … incredible, in every way.” It was the only adjective she could find to describe Steve Wilde and do him justice. “The best I’ve ever had, actually.” And he had the wonderful ability to bring out the bad girl in her and let that naughty side have free rein with him. She’d never let loose like that with Travis, who believed sex was all about
him
achieving pleasure.

“After the past three years of flying solo, you deserve to treat yourself to a hot, guilt-free affair.”

Liz laughed, because she knew Mona expected her to. Her affair with Steve was no doubt a guilty pleasure, but she wasn’t about to admit to the deeper blame she was struggling to keep at bay for stringing her aunt and uncle along about Valerie, and for not being able to handle the simple request of watching out for their daughter.

She glanced back at the café and caught sight of Henry, the older guy who delivered her dairy products. Welcoming the interruption from her more troubling thoughts, she grasped the opportunity to refocus on business.

“I’d better go help Gloria get that dairy order put away,” she told Mona just as another customer came up to the register with her choice of reading material.

“Okay, we’ll talk more later.” Mona flashed her a smile. “By the way, thanks for the kick of caffeine.”

“Anytime.” Liz headed around the counter and gave her friend a lighthearted poke in the side as she passed. “Since it seems to put you in a good mood, who am I to argue?”

“No, hearing about your evening with the incredible Steve is what perked me up,” she countered sassily. “I should be so lucky, so I’ll just have to live vicariously through you.”

Liz just shook her head and continued back into the café. Back to real life and the responsibilities awaiting her.

A
few minutes before seven that evening, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle pulling up in front of the café caught Liz’s attention and caused an immediate current of anticipation to ripple through her. Since all her customers were taken care of and her two second-shift employees had the tables covered, she started making the drink Steve always ordered—a caramel frap-puccino, extra caramel.

As she blended the concoction, she watched him through the plate-glass window as he took off his helmet and combed his thick, tousled hair with his fingers. He slid off his bike in one smooth motion and retrieved what appeared to be a leather portfolio from the back compartment. Breathtakingly gorgeous and sinfully sexy, he strolled into the establishment, made eye contact with her, and winked. The private greeting started a slow melting sensation in the pit of her belly.

He made his way to the vacant couch in the corner, and she experienced a twinge of insecurity when she realized a group of flirtatious, model-thin women were doing their best to get his attention. There had always been a part of her that believed she hadn’t been good enough to please Travis, that her body wasn’t perfect
enough, thus causing him to stray from their marriage. And those old self-doubts were obviously rearing their ugly heads with Steve, who could have any woman of his choosing.

She firmly reminded herself that he’d chosen her, and for the time being he seemed completely satisfied and dedicated. To his credit, he didn’t seem to notice the other women who were staring at him, waiting for a smile or some other token acknowledgment as he passed their tables. A few of the interested females appeared miffed by his indifference, and Liz was admittedly amused by his subtle rejection.

Back off, girls,
she thought with a bit of triumph.
He’s all mine.

Katie, a young college student who worked parttime in the evenings while going to school during the day, rounded the counter. “Do you want me to go take his order?” she asked.

“No, I’ve got it.” Liz poured the drink into a plastic cup. “I’m going to take a break, but I’ll be right over there if you need me for anything.” She indicated Steve.

With a nod, the young girl picked up a damp rag and went to wipe down tables.

Liz topped the drink off with a small mountain of real whipped cream and drizzled a generous amount of caramel sauce on top of that, having learned that there was no such thing as too much caramel for that macho bad boy of hers.

Minutes later, she was delivering the drink to him in the private, semisecluded corner he’d picked, away from other patrons. “Hey, there,” she said softly, her whole being fairly zinging with instantaneous awareness as she sat down beside him on the couch.

He graced her with a bone-melting smile that kicked up her pulse yet another notch. “Hey, yourself,” he murmured, his tone as warm and intimate as the genuine affection glimmering in his eyes. He reached for
his drink and poked a straw into the thick mixture. “I’m not going to get in trouble for fraternizing with the help during working hours, am I?”

Hearing the teasing note in his voice, she leaned back against the sofa cushion and relaxed, intending to enjoy her time with him in a casual environment. Their knees touched, and the slight physical connection between them seemed as natural as breathing. “Since I’m the boss, the only person you have to answer to is me.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad deal.” He waggled his brows at her as he took a drink; then a long, low, appreciative moan escaped him. “God, you give good caramel frappuccinos.”

The man was so outrageous, she couldn’t help but laugh. And it felt so good to do so when her life had been much too serious lately. “What’s this sweet tooth you’ve got for caramel?”

“It goes way back, to when I was a little kid,” he said easily. “Whenever I’d go to my grandmother’s as a boy, she’d always have caramel squares tucked into her apron pocket, and she’d share them with me. It was as if that pocket never ran empty, and sneaking and eating those caramels became a special treat for me since my mother didn’t have them at home.”

A fond smile softened his masculine features, giving her a rare glimpse of an endearing side to Steve that stirred a reciprocating tenderness within her. She turned more fully toward him and stretched her arm along the back of the sofa, her fingers inches away from touching his broad shoulder. She could feel the heat of his body, could smell his clean, masculine scent, and wished they were alone.

“I always thought it was our little secret, until my brothers told me that they got those same caramel squares from Grandma’s apron pocket,” he said with a feigned grumble. “I remember being so crushed when I found out about that, and ticked at my brothers for
horning in on what I thought of as
my
treats. We actually got into a fight over it.”

She chuckled, loving his story and imagining what mischievous rascals he and his siblings must have been. “You have brothers?”

“Two of them. Eric and Adrian. I’m the oldest, and they always were a pain in my ass when we were growing up.” His gruff tone was underscored with a begrudging affection for his siblings.

As much as she wished he’d elaborate on his brothers and family beyond that tidbit, he didn’t, and she didn’t feel it was her right to pry for more. She was more afraid that if she learned too much about him, she’d grow to like him more than was prudent. “Obviously you weren’t traumatized too badly by the incident, since your love for caramel hasn’t diminished.”

“Not in the least. As a kid, I loved the sweet, buttery flavor. Now, as an adult, I think of caramel as rich, creamy … and highly seductive.” He dipped and swirled his index finger into the sauce covering the mound of whipped cream, then brought that caramel-coated digit less than an inch away from her mouth. “Taste it and tell me what you think.”

Her pulse leaped at the provocative game he was instigating in a very open public place. The wicked look in his eyes dared her to play, and she knew she had two options—to revert to the sensible, practical woman she’d been for three years and push his hand away, or to embrace her newly emerging sensual side and indulge in his brazen challenge.

She quickly assessed the situation and their position. They were in a corner of the lounge area, his wide shoulders turned toward her and angled in a way that shielded her from prying eyes and gave them a cloak of seclusion. And that was all the reassurance she needed to match his shameless actions.

He grew impatient, touching her lips with the sticky-
sweet confection, boldly pressing them apart. She held his gaze and obeyed his silent command, opening for him, letting him slide his finger into the warm, wet recesses of her mouth.

She knew what caramel tasted like. She was one of those rare females who preferred the buttery, rich candy over chocolate, but she never knew how arousing it could be when mixed with the flavor of hot, salty male flesh. Never knew how turned on she could get by lapping the treat off a man’s finger. And judging by the tense set of Steve’s jaw, the quickening rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, he was equally transfixed by the sexual connotation inherent in her stimulating performance.

He started to pull his hand back, but she encircled his wrist and stopped him before he could withdraw. He might have been the one to start this scandalous stunt, but she intended to finish it. She swirled her soft tongue around his long finger, grazed the length with her teeth, and nibbled the tip before taking him deep into her mouth again and sucking the last of the sweetness from his skin.

His breath hissed out between his teeth, and his pupils dilated—dark, hot, and glittering with a fierce hunger that gave Liz a sense of feminine power. The erection bulging against the fly of his jeans thrilled her, and knowing she was pushing Steve to the edge of his restraint, she finally released his finger.

“Definitely rich, creamy, and seductive,” she murmured, and slowly dragged her tongue along her lower lip. “I think I just discovered a new aphrodisiac.”

“Caramel?” he asked, his voice tight.

A beguiling smile tipped the corners of her mouth. “When it’s drizzled over the right dessert.”

His nostrils flared as her meaning sank in, and a slash of color highlighted his cheekbones. “If we weren’t in a room full of your customers and employees, you’d
be flat on your back right now and I’d be the one licking that caramel sauce off your body. Every single delicious inch of it.”

The image of that erotic fantasy caused her nipples to pucker so tight they hurt. Her sex felt wet, swollen, and she managed—just barely—to maintain her composure and strove for a reckless, fearless reply. “You think so?”

He growled, the primitive sound sending delightful shivers down her spine. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

His tone was playfully intimidating, and while she didn’t think he’d really follow through on his sexy threat and take her right there on the sofa, she wouldn’t put it past him to haul her off to the storage room or women’s restroom to have his way with her.

He released a harsh exhale and shifted in his seat. Setting his drink on the secondhand oak table in front of the couch, he grabbed the leather binder he’d walked in with.

“Let’s talk business,” he muttered, and unzipped the portfolio, revealing an all-in-one management system. He flipped to a tabbed section marked
Liz,
which contained pages of notes in his masculine handwriting. “Going on the passport tip you gave me about Valerie, I checked to see if an international or domestic flight had been bought under her name.”

Forgetting their fun, sexy exchange in favor of information on her cousin, Liz focused on Steve and what he’d discovered. “And what did you find out?” she asked anxiously.

“Nothing on that, unfortunately.” He thumbed through a few pages and skimmed over more written information. “I also managed to check the charges on her credit cards to see if she’d purchased a ticket from some other source, and again, no luck.”

Hope kicked up the beat of Liz’s heart. “So then, you think she’s still here in Chicago?”

“No, not necessarily. Rob could have purchased an airline ticket for her,” he said pragmatically. “As for your cousin, she made a bunch of other charges on her credit card, mainly clothing and lingerie purchases.”

That detail didn’t surprise Liz. “That’s nothing unusual. Valerie has always been a clotheshorse.” And very frivolous in her spending habits.

“It was a big expense, nearly a grand in all, which seems excessive, especially since the purchases were made all in one day. I went to the place the charges were made, talked to a few salespeople, and showed them the picture of your cousin that you gave me, but didn’t get more than a confirmation that she’d been there.”

His dark brows drew together in further speculation. “And there was also a four-hundred-and-fifty-dollar charge to a luggage store, which seemed pretty steep for an overnight bag. So, I followed up on the charge and found out it was for a full set of luggage, including a garment bag.”

Liz’s eyes widened. “I had no idea.”

He studied her for a long moment. “You and your cousin aren’t that close, are you?”

“We were raised together,” she said, and heard the defensive note creep into her tone. “We’re as close as sisters are.”

“But you don’t share a whole lot of stuff like sisters who live together would,” he said, making his point in a gentle but direct way.

“No.” The words felt thick in her throat. “Despite being raised together, we both have very distinctly different personalities, and that has contributed to a lot of strain between us over the years.”

There was more, such as the old resentments her cousin harbored, and Valerie’s craving for attention, that had shaped her into the impetuous, reckless woman she’d become. But Liz felt partially accountable for that drastic
change in her cousin, because she’d come into Valerie’s life unexpectedly, forcing her to adjust from being an only child, whom her parents absolutely doted upon, to having another girl—a rival in her eyes—steal away half of everything that was hers.

“I love Valerie,” she said quietly, “and I’ll obviously do anything for her, but no, I wouldn’t call us best friends.”

The admission hurt, more than she realized. Ever since the day she’d moved in with her aunt and uncle at the tender young age of twelve, Liz had always yearned for Valerie’s friendship, and yes, on some level, her approval. She’d always wanted a sister, and she’d done her best to create that special bond between her and Val until she realized that her cousin had no desire to share anything with her beyond what was necessary. Still, Liz had always held out the foolish hope that Valerie would come around and change her mind about their being friends.

Steve stared at her with those intelligent eyes of his that seemed to reach deep into her soul and tug on emotions she’d spent years keeping under wraps, just as he had last night when he’d coaxed her to talk about Travis.

She grew uncomfortable beneath his penetrating gaze and wondered if he could sense her internal guilt—her sense of obligation both to Valerie and to her aunt and uncle for everything they’d sacrificed for her by taking her in when her parents died.

She looked away and inhaled a deep, calming breath. “What else did you find out?”

Much to her relief, he didn’t pursue the emotional issue and smoothly veered back into their business discussion. “According to some bank information I was able to trace, Valerie made a five-hundred-dollar cash withdrawal from her savings account on Friday.” He closed his portfolio and laid it back on the coffee table. “All those purchases and that cash advance happened
last week, which leads me to believe that she was preparing for a trip.”

His believable theory eased Liz’s worry, but she wasn’t willing to stake her cousin’s life on an assumption, and she doubted Steve would, either. She needed to locate Valerie, hear her voice, and be reassured that she was safe and off somewhere of her own free will—before her Aunt Sally called again and put Liz into the position of lying to her or revealing the truth and admitting that Valerie had taken off with a man she knew nothing about, doing Lord knew what.