Chapter Ten

 

On the car ride home, Chloe’s body tingled with residual sexual energy. She assured Jill everything was fine, allowing the couple to fall into easy banter and not notice her silence. Kyle couldn’t contain his surprise over the creative, complimentary drinks they’d received.

At her apartment, Chloe locked the door and leaned against it. Her skin still held the sizzle of her encounter with Constantine. The man moved her in ways she hadn’t known existed. He took her to the top of the pleasure palace that Jill talked about not once, but twice. Why the hell had she settled for parking on the ground floor?

A bead of sweat trickled down her back. She stripped out of the mini sweater-dress. A trip to the bathroom took care of her toiletries. She stared at her reflection in the room’s oval mirror. Memories of her wild time with Constantine practically fogged the glass.

He called her beautiful. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about her since the day they met. When he’d opened her legs, he actually declared her vagina—perfect. Did he say such things to every woman?

At the moment, she certainly didn’t look beautiful. Smudged mascara shadowed one eye and red blotches from where he’d kissed her neck mottled her skin. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was trying to leave his mark. But that was crazy.

Over her shoulder, the shower beckoned. She’d done dirty, naughty things. Things a good God-fearing girl would never do. Washing away the proof of her sins should be a priority.

But she didn’t want to wash away Constantine’s spicy scent clinging to her skin. She crawled into bed. Naked. Maybe she’d never shower again.

Exhaustion pulled her quickly into sleep. A long deep sleep of contentment.

****

The next morning, she awoke to a buzzing sound. Moments later, she realized someone was leaning on her door bell. The sound stopped, only to start back up a few seconds later.

She rushed to the bathroom and scrambled into yesterday’s pajamas to answer the door. Had she really slept naked? That never, capital N, Never happened.

Through the peephole, she spied a teenage boy in a green uniform jacket, a long box tucked under his arm.

“Hello,” she said, opening the door, but leaving the chain engaged.

“Delivery for Chloe Thompson.”

“That’s me. But I’m not expecting anything.”

The young guy grinned and braces with bright orange rubber bands flashed. “Then I guess this is a ‘surprise’ delivery.” He tilted the box to show her name and address on the label.

“Who sent it?”

“Don’t know,” he said, one leg jiggling. “Maybe there’s a card inside.”

She opened the door and took the box. “Thank you.”

He glanced at her Wonder Woman sleep t-shirt and matching shorts. “You sure were sound asleep.”

“Sure was.”

“Sorry to wake you. I hope you like them.” After another quick flash of metal, he jogged off.

She set the box on her kitchen table and grabbed scissors from the junk drawer. After cutting the packaging ribbon, she lifted the lid to reveal a stunning bouquet of white roses. Not one dozen, but two dozen of the most pristine flower buds in the history of roses lay on a bed of baby’s breath and greens. The sweet aroma flooded the air. She ran her fingertips over the satin petals. A small card nestled inside the box.

The doorbell buzzed. Geez, how many people were out and about on this Sunday morning?

She peered out and spotted a man with a large plastic-covered arrangement of fruit. This delivery went much quicker and she deposited the chocolate-dipped strawberries and heart-shaped cantaloupe beside the flowers. The fruit came with a tag: Thinking of you, Constantine.

Her mouth watered to taste one of the perfect-looking slices on a stick. How did he know her guilty pleasure? Everything tasted better on a stick.

So much for her one-night stand. He obviously wasn’t letting her get away clean. Or without repercussions from her dirty adventure.

A quick text had Jill arriving at her door and agreeing to receive any additional callers. Chloe sat in her pj’s at the kitchen table while her friend answered when a balloon bouquet arrived and later a pizza from the best spot in the city.

“This has to be it, right?” Chloe said, sighing. “I’m two city blocks past overwhelmed. What do you make of all this?”

“Girlfriend, he is totally into you.” Jill gestured toward Chloe’s superhero jammies with a slice of peperoni and mushrooms. “You’re really not getting dressed?”

“I can’t receive company or leave while I’m wearing these,” she said, wiping her hands on a napkin and adjusting the waistband of her shorts. “Aside from you,” she corrected. “So, yes. I’m not getting dressed. Besides, if Constantine were going to come over in person”—she checked the time—“he’d have made an appearance by now. It’s going on five.”

“I don’t know.” Jill closed the pizza lid and slid the leftovers into the fridge. “These gifts show a man with determination. He’s coming for you, girl. Do you really want him to see you…?”

Chloe fiddled with a strand of hair and shrugged.

“Looking like a slob?” she said, abandoning any hope of improving the mop of her hair. “Yes. Yes, I do.” She stood and twirled, wrapping her arms around her waist. “If seeing me in my natural weekend state doesn’t scare him away”—she planted hands on hips and struck a power pose—“then maybe we’ve got a chance for more than a one-night-stand.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“That’s your cue, bestie,” Chloe said.

Jill looked through the peephole. “Put your money were your mouth is, Super Girl. The man of steel has arrived.” She cast a glorified I-just-told-you-so smirk.

Panic caused a rush of adrenaline and Chloe rushed around the room in search of—

“Here’s a sweater,” her friend said, tossing her a well-worn large knit shrug from beside the door. Jill grabbed her purse and opened the door. “Hello, Constantine. Nice to see you. And thanks again for those drinks last night.”

“Hi, Jill. I’m glad you enjoyed them.” His sexy-smooth tone brought goosebumps to Chloe’s skin under the useless sweater.

“Tyrese is a magician,” her friend gushed. “His creations are pure heaven.”

“He’s very talented.”

“She’s right inside and I’m leaving.” Jill turned and gave Chloe a silent nod of encouragement. Then she stepped out and was gone.

Constantine entered. His presence filled the room. Sucked out the oxygen. Caused Chloe’s pulse to race.

“May I come in?”

She nodded and kept nodding. He closed the door and stood inside.

Inside her apartment. Inside her home. Inside her heart. And she wanted him inside her body.

“Ah,” she stuttered, trying to decide where to start. “Thank you for the gifts. But you shouldn’t have.”

“It gave me great pleasure to send them.” He took a step forward.

She took a step back. “Please, sit down.” Maybe if he were seated, his body wouldn’t seem incredibly big. Towering. Overwhelming. Good Lord, he was a power house.

“If that’s what you want.” The sexy texture of his voice suggested he’d do or give her anything. All she had to do was ask.

A surge of confidence infused her rushing blood. “You can’t buy me.”

Dang, had she really said that? From the pinch of his brows and the rise of his lower lip in a slight pout, his hurt feelings were clear.

“I would never consider you an object, Chloe.” His large hands flattened on scarred wood of her kitchen table. “The flowers and other gifts were simply meant to gain your attention.” His gaze rested on the white roses in a vase centered on the table. “You left in a hurry last night.”

His dark gaze met hers and revealed emotions she hadn’t expected. His honesty propelled her to the chair at his side. She didn’t touch him. She’d lose all self-control if she did. But she had to be closer.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Hands on the table, she traced her finger over the side of the clear glass vase. “Nothing like last night has ever happened to me before. I’ve never been … wild. Or had sex with a stranger. And you’re the first man…” She paused, clasping her hands together. He was honest. She owed him that in return. “Who ever made me orgasm.”

With a slow, gentle reach, Constantine laid a warm, strong hand on top of Chloe’s. His palm and fingers fully surrounded her interlocked digits. The gesture offered comfort.

“I don’t consider us strangers anymore.”

She studied his face. His handsome, captivating, model-quality face.

“What can I possibly offer a man like you? I’m nothing special.”

He shifted in his seat and eased her hands apart, holding one in each of his. “I’ve been completely infatuated with you from the moment I caught you at fidgeting at my bar. Your natural beauty called to me. Chloe, you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

She tried to take in everything he was saying. Infatuated. Natural beauty. She recalled the sensation while sitting alone at the bar. “I felt you watching me that night.”

He sat back.

The loss of his touch made her twitchy. The sweater hung heavy and she shrugged it onto the back of her chair.

“No one has ever been aware of me before.” His strummed his fingers on the table. “That’s why I had to meet you.”

She stopped squirming. “Wait. You engineered our meeting?”

“Guilty.” His palms raised in surrender. “I didn’t expect you to kiss my shirt. That part was fate, helping us along.” A wicked grin tugged one corner of his mouth.

“Wow.” She couldn’t believe he’d gone to all that trouble to meet her. No man ever went out of his way for her before.

“I really want you, Chloe. And not just for mind-blowing sex on my desk.”

“It was mind-blowing for you, too?”

He reached out again. This time, she met him halfway and stroked her fingers over his wide palms. Touching him felt good. How could being with him be considered bad?

“Chloe, you are amazing. I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”

Her fingertips rested on his wrist. The steady beat of his pulse strummed in tune with her own.

“This seems crazy,” she said. “We haven’t even gone on a date or eaten a meal together.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet. “Time to change that. I saw a little diner on the way here, let’s go to dinner.”

Her mouth gaped. Was this incredible man, the owner of San Fran’s hippest bar, really suggesting they eat at her favorite diner?

“Do you mean Rudy’s, on the corner?” This had to be a mistake or a dream.

“Yes, Rudy’s Diner. Have you been there?”

“Only almost every day.”

“They probably do a great breakfast. Do you like pancakes?” His genuine interest and casual manner contrasted with the business side of him she’d seen so far.

“I’m a bigger fan of omelets, but I just had pizza.” She stepped away and glanced at her clothes. Or lack of. “I should change.”

He stepped forward and cupped her cheek. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Promise me you’ll never change.”

She tilted her head, meeting his eyes. “Only if you promise me that we can slow things down until we really get to know each other.”

“For you,” he said, licking his bottom lip. His gaze darted between her eyes and her mouth. “I will do anything.”

“I’m holding you to that.” She couldn’t believe this was happening. They were going to go on a date.

“May I have one, small kiss before you dress?” His thumb caressed her throat and his fingers threaded across the back of her neck.

The heat of his body warmed her and she gravitated nearer, sliding her hands over his chest. “I’m only throwing on sweat pants.”

He chuckled, his face nuzzling into the side of her neck. “I still smell me on you.”

His breath moved over her skin, sending tingles to her nipples. Her chest heaved, needing more air. His muscles strong and against her, kept her on her feet.

“You should never shower,” he whispered.

She giggled, regaining some composure. “That would take a bad turn really quick.”

His mouth captured her earlobe and teeth nibbled her flesh. Large hands molded to her waist. A warm trail of kisses traveled to her jaw and he hovered over her mouth. “Just one kiss.”

His words filled her head, and a hint of mint wafted into her sinuses. Hands caressed and cupped her bottom. Lips covered hers. His tongue slid inside and she met him stroke for stroke.

That one kiss lasted forever. Yet, not long enough.

When they came up for air, he turned her around and patted her butt toward the hall.

“I didn’t eat pizza,” he said. “And if I can’t eat you, because we’re not having sex until we know each other better, then I need to be kept well fed.”

At the bedroom door she peeked back. He paced, adjusting his pants. His obvious erection led to a readjustment of his adjustment.

She hurried into her room and swapped out her shorts for a pair of black yoga pants. Her Wonder Woman t-shirt went into the hamper. A bra and clean white V-necked t-shirt completed the change. Two minutes later, she slid into running shoes. Constantine waited with the apartment door open.

They walked down the hall, holding hands. Constantine’s composure was back in place. Nearing the diner, she stopped.

“Constantine,” she said, moving in to hug him.

“Chloe,” he countered. His lips moved lightly over hers before he straightened.

“Don’t worry,” she said, going on tiptoes and pulling his head near to whisper in his ear. “I promise to keep you well fed. In every way.”

She nipped his earlobe and pushed away, rushing over to the diner door.

“I’m keeping you to that,” he said. The usual silk in his voice rumbled into gravel. “But first I’m having one of everything on the menu.”

Inside her favorite neighborhood diner, they ate, talked, and laughed. Heart full. Stomach full. Happiness full to overflowing.

Theirs’s wasn’t a traditional start to romance. But she was happier than any one woman deserved to be. She would move at a pace that worked for them. Whatever that might be.

In love, there were no rules. Good girl or bad girl, she didn’t care anymore. So long as she was his girl.

 

The End

 

 

 

 

 

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