Authors: Olivia Dade
Ready to Fall (12 page)
His indrawn breath at the brief contact sounded harsh. Ragged. “Helen?”
“Yes,” she said, the word emerging from her in a rush. “Yes, I'll come home with you.”
“Do you need to check in with your friends before we go?” he asked, settling a big, hot hand on the small of her back and kneading the muscles there with gentle fingers.
She nodded and headed for her friends' table, separating from his touch with reluctance. As he paid his tab, she gathered her purse.
Angie and Sarah regarded her with expectant stares.
“So?” Angie said. “How's the produce?”
“I'm taking it home,” Helen said, and then frowned. “Well, no. I guess technically the produce is taking me to
his
home, which seems kind of backward.”
his
home, which seems kind of backward.”
Sarah sat up straight in her bar stool, her gray-blue eyes serious. “Are you sure about this, Helen? You may have grown up with him, but you hardly know him. You talked to him for five minutes right now, and that's it.”
“He's the mayor,” Angie argued. “It's not like she's running off to spend the night with a stranger carrying a pickax and trying to sell his fillings for cigarettes.”
“You never know,” Sarah said darkly. “Evil comes in all sorts of handsome disguises. And I'm not just talking about physical danger. I'm asking Helen whether she's emotionally ready to go home with a stranger.”
Helen paused and thought. “I understand your concern,” she finally said. “But I have to do this. I have to take this chance.”
Sarah dug her phone out of her jeans pocket and checked the time. “It's a few minutes before ten right now. If we don't get a call or text from you before midnight, I'll get worried. So promise you'll contact us before then, okay?”
“Sure,” Helen said. “Though I hope the call will only be a brief intermission in the proceedings.” Just the thought of those proceedings made her feel warm between her legs. Tingly.
Angie grinned and held up her hand for a high five. “That's my girl. Go get him, Hel.”
Helen slapped that hand and laid down a ten for her drinks. “Okay, ladies. We'll talk later. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” they chorused, but only Angie looked enthusiastic. Sarah was gazing at Wes with a troubled expression.
“Be safe,” Sarah said.
Angie rolled an imaginary condom over an invisible penis. “What she said.”
“Before midnight,” Sarah reminded her. “Text or call.”
Helen blew a kiss to her friends and headed for the door, where Wes was waiting. He smiled at her as she drew closer, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they exited into the darkness of the parking lot.
“Ready?” he asked, guiding her to his truck.
“Ready,” she said with a smile.
I've been ready for years
, she thought as he unlocked the door and helped her up into the passenger seat.
I've been ready for years
, she thought as he unlocked the door and helped her up into the passenger seat.
When he started the engine and the interior lights dimmed, she could hardly see him. He was all dark shadows merging into indistinct lines and arcs of flesh. But still handsome, somehow. Still everything she wanted.
I've been ready
, she thought again.
I was just waiting for you to catch up with me
.
, she thought again.
I was just waiting for you to catch up with me
.
* * *
One hour later, Helen lay on the comforter of Wes's bed, fully clothed except for her panties and leggings, which lay in a heap somewhere in the darkness of his bedroom. He'd raised her dress to her collarbones and pushed her bra down beneath her breasts. One of his hands was on her exposed breast, squeezing gently, while he braced himself above her with his other arm.
From all indications, she assumed he was nearing the end of things. His steady, measured thrusts into her body had become erratic and more rapid, and he'd begun to breathe hard. With a gasp, he shuddered above her as she stroked his corded arms, his laboring chest, whatever she could reach. He collapsed on top of her a moment later, and then rolled them both to their sides.
It hadn't hurt. Not like she'd expected, at least. Despite all those tales of blood and torn hymens racing through her mind when he'd nudged inside of her, she hadn't felt anything rend or alter inside herself. She figured her thighs might be a bit sore tomorrow, that's all.
But it also hadn't felt that good, either. Not after the first bit, where he'd kissed her to distraction and stroked her clitoris with brisk but gentle fingers until she'd shivered in a brief climax. Even that, though. . . she'd had better. Which, coming from a virgin, said a lot. She gave him points for technical ability. But artistry? Not so much. She'd made herself come harder many, many times over the years. Both with and without her trusty vibrator.
Then, after a brief dip of his finger inside her vagina to determine her readiness, he hadn't spent too much more effort on preliminaries. He'd pushed inside her and gone to work. And now, a couple of minutes later, he'd finished the job, she supposed.
She wanted to believe his lack of time and care in their encounter was due to his immeasurable passion for her. That he just couldn't stop himself from making love to her, couldn't wait another minute to plunge within her body.
She wasn't a fool, though. So she wasn't actually surprised when he eased out of her, disposed of the condom, and headed for the bathroom without a single word of praise or affection. Still, she didn't get up and get dressed. Part of her hoped maybe she was wrong. Maybe she hadn't given her virginity to a man who didn't give a shit about her.
Not that she considered her virginity so valuable, of course. But her pride and sense of self-worth? She probably should have valued those a bit more. By sleeping with a man who saw her as something more than a passionless lay, for example.
She'd wanted to act like an adult. Wanted Wes in her life and her bed. But maybe she hadn't fully understood herself and her own desires until now. She didn't just want sex, not even with Wes. She wanted sex with someone who considered her more than just a warm, willing body. And from what she could tell, that wasn't him, no matter how much she'd longed for him from a distance.
When he came out of the bathroom and stood next to the bed, silent for a long moment, she knew. She braced herself before he even started talking.
“Um, Helen?” he said into the cool darkness of the bedroom. “I'm so glad we got the chance to see each other again. But . . .”
She closed her eyes. Yup. Here it came.
He continued, his voice oddly shaky. “I . . . I probably shouldn't get involved with a library employee when I'm asking for increased library funding.”
“Okay,” she said.
“It's a conflict of interest,” he explained in a rush. “And it would bring up bad memories of the last mayor. God knows I don't need another reason for the City Council to fight against my agenda.”
On the one hand, he wasn't wrong. Any echoes of the previous mayor would not go over well in Niceville. Not after Richard “Dick” Udall had diverted city funds to his mistress and her restaurant for over three years. But what Wes was saying was a crock of shit, nevertheless. They both knew it.
He wanted her out of his house. If she hadn't been a library employee, he'd have found another reason. An early-morning appointment. An allergy to redheads that only manifested itself after an hour in bed together. A claim that he wasn't ready for a relationship right now. Anything. Anything to send her, his convenient fuck, on her way.
“Okay,” she said again.
Getting dressed didn't prove difficult. All she had to do was pull up her bra, tug on her panties and leggings, and smooth down her dress.
He guided her back into his truck with a gentle hand on her back, and she didn't move away from it. No point.
With steady fingers, she texted Sarah.
You're the designated driver tonight, right? Are you still at the bar?
A moment later, Sarah replied.
Yes to both questions. Are you okay?
Yes to both questions. Are you okay?
Fine. I could use a ride home, though.
“Please take me back to the bar,” she told Wes as he backed out of his driveway.
We'll stay until you come
, Sarah wrote.
Love you Helen
.
, Sarah wrote.
Love you Helen
.
Helen put away her phone, and she and Wes drove in silence back to the bar. When they pulled into the parking lot, she could see Sarah's car. Her lower lip started to tremble, but she forced it into stillness.
Not yet
, she told herself.
Not until he drives away
.
, she told herself.
Not until he drives away
.
Wes parked in front of the door to the bar and twisted in his seat to face her. He took her hand again, and she let him. “Helen,” he said. “I'm sorry. I didn't think about the conflict of interest earlier.”
Her tongue came untethered at the repetition of that excuse. “Bullshit,” she said. “That's not why we left your house in such a rush.”
He dragged his free hand through his hair, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest. “Shit. I'm sorry. Again. I shouldn't have started this.”
“I agreed to go home with you,” she said dully. “You didn't force me. Didn't make promises. It's fine, Wes.”
She reached for the door handle, stopping when she heard him say something under his breath. “What?” she asked.
“You're . . .” he said, raising his head to look at her. “You're not the kind of woman I can do this with.”
His eyes pleaded with her to understand. And she did. Oh, she did.
“I see,” she said. And then she got out of his truck, shutting the door very carefully behind her. She didn't watch to see him drive away. She simply walked into the bar and let the door swing shut.
Then, thank God, she could let the tears in her eyes spill over. She could wrap her arms around herself and sob without having to surrender the last ounce of her pride to him. He'd taken enough from her already.
Yes, she knew he hadn't taken anything she hadn't offered to him freely. With enthusiasm. But that didn't mean she didn't hurt. That she wasn't angry with both herself and him. That she didn't feel empty and broken in a way she knew, she
knew
, was ridiculous.
knew
, was ridiculous.
It didn't mean she would offer a single inch of herselfâmind, body, or soulâto Wesley Ramirez ever again. Even if he asked. Even if he begged.
Not like that would ever happen, though.
Right?
Photo credit:
Photo by C.S. Smith Photography
Photo by C.S. Smith Photography
Olivia Dade
grew up an undeniableâand proudânerd, prone to ignoring the world around her as she read any book she could find. Her favorite stories, though, were always romances. As an adult, she earned an MA in American history and worked in a variety of jobs that required her to hide her bawdy interior under a demure exterior: Colonial Williamsburg interpreter, high school teacher, academic tutor, and (of course) librarian. Finally, though, she realized the call of the hussy could no longer be denied. So now she writes contemporary romantic comedy with plenty of sex, banter, and nerdery. When not writing, she cooks alongside her husband, dabbles in photography, and tries to hide her collection of throbbing-intensive romances from her curious daughter. Visit her on the web at oliviadade.com and sign up for her newsletter at
http://eepurl.com/bDS6Z5
.
grew up an undeniableâand proudânerd, prone to ignoring the world around her as she read any book she could find. Her favorite stories, though, were always romances. As an adult, she earned an MA in American history and worked in a variety of jobs that required her to hide her bawdy interior under a demure exterior: Colonial Williamsburg interpreter, high school teacher, academic tutor, and (of course) librarian. Finally, though, she realized the call of the hussy could no longer be denied. So now she writes contemporary romantic comedy with plenty of sex, banter, and nerdery. When not writing, she cooks alongside her husband, dabbles in photography, and tries to hide her collection of throbbing-intensive romances from her curious daughter. Visit her on the web at oliviadade.com and sign up for her newsletter at
http://eepurl.com/bDS6Z5
.
LOVE BETWEEN THE LINES
Romance has never had a happy ending for librarian Penny
Callahan, who could write the book on cheating, heartbreaking liars.
So she's made a resolution: no men for the next twelve months. If
she can just get through the library's New Year's Eve singles night,
she can return home to her pajamas and a good book. But when she
finds herself checking out a hot hunk with an irresistible smile, an
evening in the stacks becomes a lot more tempting . . .
Callahan, who could write the book on cheating, heartbreaking liars.
So she's made a resolution: no men for the next twelve months. If
she can just get through the library's New Year's Eve singles night,
she can return home to her pajamas and a good book. But when she
finds herself checking out a hot hunk with an irresistible smile, an
evening in the stacks becomes a lot more tempting . . .
Â
Reclusive author Jack Williamson never should have trusted his
mother. Even though he's trying to avoid being recognized, she
guilts him into attending a dating meet-and-greetâwhere an
adorable librarian makes him question his lonely lifestyle. Is this
just a fleeting, flirty scene? Or could love be the next chapter for
them both?
mother. Even though he's trying to avoid being recognized, she
guilts him into attending a dating meet-and-greetâwhere an
adorable librarian makes him question his lonely lifestyle. Is this
just a fleeting, flirty scene? Or could love be the next chapter for
them both?
TEMPTATION FROM A TO Z
Â
Â
Library manager Angie Burrowes is in trouble again. Her
superiors have never approved of her unconventional methods,
but the latest warning is seriousâanother complaint from the
administration or a patron, and she's fired. With a steamy
Valentine's Day contest to conceal and her career on the line, the
last thing Angie needs is a near accident while driving home. At
least, until she meets the tall, dark, and sexy stranger responsible
for her very own spicy plot twist . . .
superiors have never approved of her unconventional methods,
but the latest warning is seriousâanother complaint from the
administration or a patron, and she's fired. With a steamy
Valentine's Day contest to conceal and her career on the line, the
last thing Angie needs is a near accident while driving home. At
least, until she meets the tall, dark, and sexy stranger responsible
for her very own spicy plot twist . . .
Â
Straitlaced Grant Peterson has only one thing on his mind: making a
good impression as the new Director of Branch Services at the Nice
County Public Library. On the eve of his first day, however, a lusty
encounter with Angie unleashes a desire unlike any he's ever
known. Their tryst may be one for the record books, but when he
learns he's Angie's new boss, will Grant need to check out on love?
good impression as the new Director of Branch Services at the Nice
County Public Library. On the eve of his first day, however, a lusty
encounter with Angie unleashes a desire unlike any he's ever
known. Their tryst may be one for the record books, but when he
learns he's Angie's new boss, will Grant need to check out on love?
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