“Whoa! Stop! Heel! Bad dog!”
Zoe careened around the next hallway of Levi’s apartment building in pursuit of Freddy, who, the moment she stepped out of the rescue center with him, seemed to be possessed by the devil.
She passed by a large plant that had a curious puddle next to it—even though she’d just tried to get him to pee outside—and followed the trail of shredded paper from a newspaper he’d decided to procure from someone’s front door.
“Freddy!” she hissed.
Trailing him through the halls, she tried to keep her voice down, but one of the building’s tenants must have heard their chase because an industrial-style metal door at the end of the hall slid open. Freddy apparently took this as an invitation because he veered toward it.
She lunged for the leash dragging behind him, scraping her knee on the hallway floor. The leash grazed her hand, but her fingers clamped down on thin air. Freddy slipped into the stranger’s apartment and disappeared.
Zoe cringed. She didn’t even know if animals were allowed in the building, and here he was inviting himself into random apartments. She was still on her hands and knees when the door slid open the rest of the way.
She glanced up. “Levi?”
Zoe had considered being in this position for him more than once in the last week. In fact, she’d been hoping for it all day. With far less clothes on, of course. When he gazed down at her, it was with a look that said he’d thought about it too.
He held his hands up. “All right, all right. You don’t have to beg. I’ll go out with you.”
She laughed and reached out for his hand so he could pull her to her feet. “I’m sorry. My dog seems to be out of control.”
“Is that the dark streak I saw fly through here?” he gestured over his shoulder.
“That would be him.” She rubbed the bruise forming on her knee. “We’re still getting used to each other.”
He chuckled, stepping aside. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” She slipped by him and into the apartment.
The space looked like the rest of the building: very industrial, tall ceilings with exposed ductwork, glossy cement floors, exposed metal beams. One entire wall was floor to ceiling warehouse-style windows. The place was spacious yet still comfortable and inviting with furniture that spoke of quality.
The open loft flowed from one end to the other, the kitchen leading into the dining area, which spilled into the living room toward a set of spiral stairs. It was dark up there, but she suspected that’s where he slept. Beneath that space sat a collection of instruments, spaced out in a semi-circle. She assumed that’s where his band practiced.
A rare loft like this in San Francisco didn’t come cheap. Levi had said weddings were his “bread and butter.” By the looks of his loft, he must have raided a bakery.
“Business must be good,” she said appreciatively.
He shrugged—no big deal. “I get by.”
He gestured to the sitting area. That’s where she found Freddy tearing around the oversized area rug like he’d ingested a V6 engine on the way there—along with the mints in her purse, and, come to think of it, part of her purse too.
Levi chuckled. “What did you feed him? Jet fuel?”
“I think he’s just overexcited. He was dropped off at the dachshund rescue center today where I volunteer.”
Freddy took another spin around the carpet, pausing at her feet. His tongue lolled out as he stared up at her before tearing off again.
She sighed wearily. “I thought it was love at first sight.”
“Hopefully it won’t turn out to be a one-night stand.”
She smirked to herself. Funny he should mention that, she thought. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought him here. It was kind of an impromptu decision today. I’m taking him home for a two-week trial run to see if we’re a good fit. He was much calmer at the center. I don’t get it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I love dogs.”
“All right, shall we get started?” Zoe said, wanting to get down to business. So hopefully they could get down to business.
“You can’t just snap your fingers and ask me to perform like that. You have to be immersed in the experience.” He gestured to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
“All right.” She sat down on the edge of the leather couch. Crossing her legs, she waited patiently.
He gave her a funny look. “You can relax.”
“I am relaxed,” she said.
“No. I mean, really relax. Or do you not know how?”
She frowned at him. She supposed he was the expert. Mr. Relaxed himself.
Maybe she was a bit nervous. She’d been imagining how their little meeting would go all day. Imagining what she would say to him, how she would broach the subject of a no-strings attached arrangement. It’s not like she propositioned guys often. Or ever.
“I know how to relax,” she said. Wiggling back on the cushion, she made an awkward attempt to lean back, but she slid down a few inches because of her tight skirt.
He snorted. “You look like it.” Walking over to the coffee table, he picked up a piece of paper and handed it to her. “This is the list of songs that are usually big hits at weddings.”
She scanned the list, pausing on one song in particular. “Sir Mix-a-Lot?”
“It’s a beautiful song about a man’s love.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “For big butts.”
He grinned. “Yes.”
She gave him a flat look. “No.”
“But it kills at the right moment. Usually about ten drinks in. I’ll show you.” He picked a guitar off a stand in the corner and perched on the arm of a chair across from her. He gave a slow, romantic strum of the strings.
“I like big butts and I can’t lie. No, I cannot lie. I cannot lie. No, no, no. Mmmm…”
He pulled a boy band, emo-face as he drew out the so-not-romantic verse.
Zoe laughed at the serious look on his face. “Absolutely not,” she said between giggles.
“Freddy seems to like it.” Levi nodded to the middle of the carpet.
The doxie sat at his feet, staring up at him expectantly. Finally, he barked, like he was impatient for the next song. Encore!
Zoe frowned. “That’s weird. I guess he finally burnt off all his energy.”
“Okay. Let’s see if he likes this one.” He strummed out a new tune. At first, Zoe didn’t recognize it, but once he started to sing, it turned out to be Adele.
As he ran through a couple of examples from his list, he didn’t just regurgitate the same old pieces, but made them his own, speeding them up or slowing them down, adding his own style. Freddy certainly seemed to approve of the songs. Head resting on his paws, he listened to Levi sing, as captivated as a groupie.
Zoe had to admit, his voice was pretty amazing. Smooth and low, with just a tinge of a rumble that vibrated through her body, as though massaging her from the inside. He sang until every little knot in her back melted, and she really did relax.
For the moment, she put aside worries that someone was trying to hurt her, of arranged marriages, her shrinking savings, and Piper’s wedding dress. Everything seemed to wash away, until all that was left was his voice.
A hand squeezed her shoulder. She opened her eyes, blinking at her surroundings. Levi stared back at her with that amused smile of his.
“Good morning,” he said.
“What?” She jerked upright. “I slept all night?”
He chuckled. “Kidding. You just fell asleep.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I guess it’s been a busy weekend.” She yawned, rubbing a hand over her face. She paused when she smelled parmesan and oregano. “What’s that smell?”
“I just finished making dinner.”
“What? How long have I been asleep?” She glanced at her watch.
“An hour.”
“Oh, wow. Sorry.” Tucking her hair back into place, she began to straighten her clothes. “I guess, we’ll have to go over the rest of your playlist another day. You can stop by my office, if that works for you.”
“Or we can try again after we eat. I made dinner for two,” he said. “Besides, I’ve already taken Freddy outside for a walk, so you’ve got time.”
Zoe glanced around the apartment to find the doxie curled up on one of the arm chairs. “I see he’s still his calmer alter ego.”
“He started to get a little excitable, so I threw on some music and he calmed right down.”
Zoe tuned into the soft background music. “Jazz?”
“Classic. Smooth. He’s been napping ever since.” He held out his hand. “Would you like my meatballs?”
“What?” Zoe gaped at him. Her eyes automatically dipped to his crotch. Did he know what she’d been thinking when she came over? Had she been talking in her sleep?
“Spaghetti and meatballs.” He gave her a cheesy smile “That’s what’s for dinner.”
Dazed, Zoe took his hand and he helped her to her feet. When she followed him to the dining area, she saw he’d already set the table. Steam rose from the dishes of served spaghetti.
“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble,” she said. Secretly she wondered if he didn’t sneak someone in there to prepare it while she slept.
“No trouble at all.” He pulled out her chair.
Frowning, she sat down as he pushed the seat in behind her. She glanced at the table setting, the music, the candles. “Did you just trick me into a date?”
“Date? Me? Nah. We’re just two people eating a meal together.” He shook out his napkin—a fabric one, not paper—and placed it on his lap.
She narrowed her eyes. “Sure. If you say so.” Twirling her fork into the pasta, she took her first bite. “It’s not bad.”
“Something I just threw together.”
She peered over at the kitchen, looking for the empty cans of pre-made pasta sauce. But all she found was the remains of diced vegetables and spices. “You made this from scratch?”
He held an offended hand to his chest. “Don’t sound so shocked. I can cook.”
She took another bite and nodded. “You can cook pretty well. You struck me as a take-out kind of guy.”
He hesitated before responding. “I don’t know what that means.”
She laughed. “Me neither, I guess.”
“So why did you want to get into wedding planning?” Levi asked her while they ate.
Casual small talk, Zoe thought. The getting-to-know-you type of conversation. Now it definitely felt like a date. It wasn’t exactly what she was there for, but she was hungry, and they were going to need their energy if she had her way.
“Originally, I just wanted to plan parties,” she said. “It sounded so extravagant, nothing but fun and cocktails and fancy dresses. I never expected to be planning weddings.”
“Why not? You don’t enjoy the buildup, the excitement, all the mushy girly stuff?”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s like that for the bride, but all weddings are the same after a while. For me it’s just business. I already let myself get caught up in all that crap once before.”
“I suppose it would have put a bad taste in my mouth too, if I had your personal experience,” he said, taking a sip of wine.
“So why do you work the wedding scene?”
“Because I like the mushy girly stuff.” He laughed. “Call me crazy, but I think weddings are kind of nice. Sometimes you see some pretty romantic things.”
Zoe’s fork froze half-way to her mouth. She stared at him in confusion over the home-made dinner, the candles, the slow jazz, and wondered where her rock star went.
When she didn’t say anything, he shrugged. “But it’s mostly because it’s where the steady money is, you know? Same as you, I guess. In a perfect world, our music would take off and the band would be filling the big venues. For now, I’ve got to be flexible.”
She nodded. Now that she’d eaten and woken up a bit, she was ready to get back to the real reason she was there. Levi Dolson was a barrier to her main form of stress relief. If she couldn’t do it herself, then Levi certainly seemed up for the job.
Ever since she’d received his text at the center, she’d gone back and forth about giving into her temptations, her desires fighting with her instincts to run far, far away.
She’d been avoiding men for so long that it seemed unnatural to consider spending the night with one. And yet her very nature was screaming for her to do it with Levi.
After a week of being unable to climax, she was more than ready to give into him. But instead of acting like a flirtatious, cocky rock star with a girl in his apartment, he was wining and dining her. How the hell was she going to get him in the mood?
“Sex in a pan?” he asked.
Zoe blinked. That was more like it. “I prefer a bed, or maybe a shower, or we can do it on the couch if you like.”
He laughed, but she wasn’t joking. “No. I mean dessert.”
Grabbing their dishes, he headed for the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying two plates loaded with layer upon layer of chocolate, whipped cream, pudding, and some kind of nutty base.
“Sex in a pan. Well, it’s not in the pan anymore, but it was.”
“Looks delicious.”
“Shall we eat in the living room?”
He carried the dessert to the coffee table and she followed him. When she sat down and took her first bite, “delicious” didn’t even come close. The man knew how to cook.
Again, she assessed him while he ate. There was still the faded T-shirt and ripped jeans, the chipped black nail polish, the piercing—which she was sure had been on the other side. Yet, Levi was acting like a regular Martha Stewart.
“Dinner seems a little less impromptu than you made it sound,” she said.
“What?” He started guiltily. “You mean you don’t have sex in a pan sitting in your fridge all the time?” When she gave him a look, he held up his spoon. “Okay, you caught me. I was hoping you’d say yes to dinner.”
“Well, I’m glad I stayed.” She made a moan of pleasure as she took another bite. “You make good sex.”
“Thank you.” He winked. “I knew I’d have you moaning in no time.” His voice dipped low, teasingly.
Zoe put down her spoon, thinking the dessert she’d really come for was finally ready. She leaned in close. Close enough to smell his aftershave, close enough to run her nose across his stubbled cheek.
“And tell me,” she whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe. “How do you plan to do that?”
He made a groan of his own before turning so his face was inches from hers. “First, I’ll have to get you comfortable on this couch.”
He leaned toward her, pushing her back until she was lying down. The cool leather caused goose bumps to rise on her skin. Or maybe that was Levi’s hand gliding up her thigh. He toyed with the hem of her skirt, pushing it up an inch or two.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as he ran his nose down her neck, inhaling her perfume. “And then what are you going to do?”
“Well,” he said, “being a musician, I’m pretty good with my hands.”
“Is that so?” She parted her legs, desperate to find out just how good. She felt his fingers creep higher. Shutting her eyes, she reveled in the touch of a hand other than her own for once. “Where are you going to put them?”
“I’m gonna put them all over your…”—his fingers trailed along the lace of her thong—“feet.”
Her eyes flew open. “Huh?”
“I know how to give the most amazing foot rubs.” His voice rumbled against her throat as he ran kisses up her neck.
Okay, she thought, maybe he was a foot man. She could do kinky. “I was thinking you could start by rubbing something else.”
“Like your back?”
Her hips squirmed greedily toward his touch, but his fingers went no farther. She grunted in frustration. Her vibrators never teased. “Or we could always skip the foreplay,” she said hopefully.
Pushing him aside, she shifted on the couch until she was on top, straddling him. She couldn’t take it anymore. Popping the top button on his jeans, she unzipped his fly. When she tugged his jeans down over his hips, he was wearing boxers. They only gave her a teasing hint of what bulged beneath.
Greedy for more, she reached for the waistline of his shorts. Before she could pull them down too, he grabbed her wrists and drew her back up for a kiss. As his lips grazed hers, she pulled back in surprise.
Kissing was for romance. If she wanted romance, she’d be watching a chick-flick with Addison.
“We can’t skip the foreplay. That’s my favorite part,” he said. “I’m good at it.”
“Yeah? Like what?” She bit his chin playfully, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her teeth.
“Like flirting.”
“Mmmm,” she groaned. “You’re good at that.”
Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, she tugged at it, ready to rip it right off of him. Sliding it up, she exposed the smooth, hard chest she’d previewed in the vestry—and had imagined touching ever since. She ran her tongue against his hairless skin.
“And talking,” he said, but she noticed his voice was a bit breathless.
“Yes.” Zoe panted. “Talk dirty to me.”
“And hand-holding.”
Her lips paused against his tight stomach. “Umm. Yeah, okay.”
“And texting thoughtful messages throughout the day.”
“Like sexting?” She shook her head in confusion.
She was done with the talking now. It was torture. He’d been after her since the day they’d met, so now that she wanted him, why was he drawing this out? When she needed it the most?
He claimed to be the kind of guy who reached out and grabbed life by the balls. And now that she’d decided to do the same, he was playing hard to get.
Tired of playing around, she took a page from his sheet music. Reaching out, she grabbed those balls—literally. His balls.
Levi jumped, surprised by the touch. “Whoa.” Before she could feel anything more, he tugged his pants back up. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“Grabbing life by the balls. Was I too rough?” she asked. “You strike me as a guy who likes it rough.” She gave his ear a nip.
He laughed, but gently held her away so he could meet her eyes. “I feel like you’ve misunderstood the ball-grabbing theory.”
“What are we waiting for?” she asked. “You’re ready. I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Sex.”
“Oh, we’re not having sex,” he said. “At least not tonight.” Although by the way he took in the sight of her straddling him, she thought he must be kidding.
She shook her head as though the sex fog clouding her brain had affected her hearing too. “What?”
“It’s too soon for that.”
Zoe slid off his lap and back onto the leather. “Are we on some kind of schedule I don’t know about?”
He straightened up on the couch to face her. “I just mean that we should get to know each other better first. Hobbies, likes, dislikes, family. That my childhood’s pet name was Jujube.”
She leaned toward him again, running her hands up his chest with a coy smile. He couldn’t be serious. “Why get into all that when we’re clearly attracted to each other. Let’s just have some fun.”
“I’m trying to. But I want more first.” He grabbed her hand as though to hold it.
She pulled it back like he’d burned her. “How much more?”
“Like a date. A few of them. Dinner at a restaurant. Maybe a movie. That new rom-com just opened up. I could take you to that on Friday night,” he said hopefully.
Zoe wrinkled her nose. “A rom-com?” She laughed. Was this a joke? “Okay rock star. Let’s cut the crap, shall we? I’m offering you sex with no strings attached. Except that if it’s good, maybe I’ll want to do it again.”
Levi leaned back against the couch and gave her a hard look. “But I don’t want that.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want more.” He gestured to her, like he meant specifically more of her, not just her body.
“I don’t do more. I’m not a relationship girl. To be honest, I don’t even do this.” She waved a hand at the couch. At them.
“We’re not doing anything.” He laughed, like she was being ridiculous.
The sound of it set her back rigid. She’d practically just thrown herself at him, and he was laughing? “You’re right,” she said. “We’re not doing anything.” Tugging her skirt back down, she stood up and gently picked her sleeping puppy off the chair.
“Wait a minute,” Levi said. “What’s going on? I don’t get it. You seemed interested. I thought we had something going here.”
“Yeah, so did I.” Zoe grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
He laughed again. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want any of this romantic crap.” She waved a dismissive hand at the dinner, and the candles, and the jazz music. “Come on. What’s with the thoughtful texts and foot rubs? You’re supposed to be Mr. Rock Star. You stay out all night and wake up with lipstick on your cheek in the morning. Are you being serious right now?”
He crossed his arms like she’d offended him. Maybe as a rock star. Maybe as a romantic at heart. “I’d like to be serious about you. But unless you want the same thing, then I think we’re done here.”
“I think you’re right. Come on, Freddy.”
Zoe wrenched open the sliding metal door and stormed out of the apartment. It clanged shut behind her.
She didn’t know what consumed her more: the humiliation at being rejected when she’d practically thrown herself at him or the frustration of knowing that her vibrators were going to be useless again when she got home. Either way, she wasn’t getting any with Levi or herself that night. In a pan or otherwise.