His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1) (10 page)

Anabelle parked her car and took in a deep
breath. The industrial neighborhood in Sugar Bay was made up of renovated
warehouses, businesses and condo conversions. It had an eclectic appeal. She
turned off her
car,
the only sound left was the
staccato bouncing of her knees. The frenetic sound reminded her how out of her
element she was. She made a concentrated effort to still her legs.

Hiding her plans from Charlie had been
difficult as lying had never come easily to her. But letting Charlie in on her experiment
wouldn’t be wise. The interrogation alone would strain her already spooked
nerves. It was too much pressure.

It would be better to just do it, and then
discuss details later. Let Charlie think it was only a shared meal.

Not her first foray into the realm of hot
and dirty sex.

She grabbed her bag and exited her little
Prius. The morning had left her room looking as if an explosion had detonated.
Clothes and accessories were strewn across every flat surface. An unusual
occurrence since as a rule, she was meticulous by nature.

A tailored v-neck polka dot pleated dress
was her ultimate choice along with a cardigan, a staple in her wardrobe. The
strappy high-heeled sandals completed the look. Humidity made her hair stick
uncomfortably to the back of her neck never mind November had just begun. Florida
weather didn’t
care,
the temperature was either hot,
hotter or wet with a sprinkling of fine days in between. Those were the days you
were happy to be a Floridian. Humidity defying hair products sold well.

Her heels echoed on the treads as she made
her way up the metal stairs. She glanced at the directions he’d texted and
confirmed the address number above the custom welded Celtic knocker. She wiped sweaty
hands down her dress. Deep inhale. Slowly exhale. It wouldn’t do to be discovered
panting upon arrival.

When she felt more in control, she lifted
the knocker and waited. It wasn’t long before Derek swung the door open. She
wondered if he’d seen her struggle for calm through the peephole but the sight
of him sort of took her breath away and she stopped thinking.

Crap.
Was it
too late to leave?

She was afraid she’d started something she
wasn’t equipped to handle. Over six feet of prime hot male stood before her,
her sexual tutor for the month.

Her girl parts sat up, clapping and
whooping in excitement, while her head cautioned against the wisdom of going
forward.

“Come in, Anabelle.”
Said the spider to the fly, she couldn’t help but think.

His hair was damp, like he’d recently come
out of the shower. Hot sensation chased down her spine at the thought of his
body, wet and naked under a pulsing hot shower, poised behind her while his soapy
hands roamed her body.

Oh, jeez.

She froze at the threshold until he slid
his big, warm hands down her back, urging her forward. The contact sent her
eyes to meet his gaze. She could swear he’d read her thoughts. Heat infused her
and a trickle of sweat rolled between her breasts.

She stood in the entry, feeling like little
red riding hood despite the missing costume, which made Derek the big bad wolf.
His head on her lower back guided her forward. Without a word, he held out his
hand for her bag and she handed it over. She swallowed, her heart raced as if
she’d finished a 5K. Her palms were damp but she didn’t want to wipe them while
he watched. Maintaining the illusion of sophistication seemed appropriate. She
didn’t want to look like a complete newbie.

She cleared her throat. “This is a nice
space Derek.” Design was safe. Design she knew. Hot, dirty sex…not so much
..
But with Derek’s help, she would soon.

Have
mercy.

“You like it?”

“I love it. Lots of space planning possibilities.”

“It’s not done yet. The only completed spaces
are the kitchen, bedroom en suite and outdoor space. The living room is partially
done, but come on. I’ll show you around, then later you can explore while I
finish lunch.”

The space was masculine and modern, the
dark wood contrasted with creams, grays and blues he had interspersed
throughout. It was modern industrial with nothing mass-produced in sight and
quite beautiful. It read much like Derek.

“This floor, Derek. I love it.” The
reclaimed wood was set in a herringbone pattern, showcasing the irregularities
of the wood tones. The effect was striking. “How long did it take you?”

He shrugged. “A couple of months off and
on.”

There was design eye candy everywhere and
the designer in her melted at each detail. A cream-colored canvas hung from the
rafters, enclosing what she assumed was the partially finished living space but
something caught her attention. “A swing?”

“It’s for us,” he said then laughed when
she blanched. “No? Oh well, that’s something we can work towards.” He winked.
“Just kidding. I installed it for the girls.”

“Oh,” she breathed while her imagination still
reeled at the thought of sex on a swing.

He seemed to read her guilty thoughts and
laughed, his smile devilish. He led her toward the kitchen while she gathered
herself. They rounded a corner and she gasped.

“Oh Derek, this is beautiful,” she
whispered.

An epicure’s delight, the kitchen had dark
wood cabinets, stainless steel details, a split Carrera marble baker’s counter
and a butcher-block island. He hadn’t skimped. A Viking gas range, Wolf
refrigerator, Kohler faucet and assorted high-end gadgets stood at the ready.

Sunlight flooded the space from a wall of windows
adjacent to an outdoor garden, making the kitchen sparkle.

“Do you know how to use these toys?”

“I like to eat, so yes, I learned how to
use the toys.” His smile was warm and she envied the lucky woman who’d be fed
and better yet,
be
the recipient of that smile on a
daily basis.

“So I don’t have to worry about food
poisoning today?”

“No worries at all.” He pulled out a bottle
of Rombauer Chardonnay and her eyes widened.

“Nice, what’s on the menu?”

“Lemon butter Macedonian nut entrusted Tilapia
with Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“Sounds yummy…and fattening.”

“Something you don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t know. If I stopped working out,
I’d start to waddle.”

He chuckled; his eyes traced the length of
her body, taking his sweet time while she fought the urge to squirm. Derek
looked like a big, bad and
very hungry
wolf. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true. My passionate relationship with
food is one of my most consistent relationships.”

“We’ll have to see about changing that.”
The carnal look in his eyes ignited instant arousal and she swallowed. Tension erupted
and the pseudo-relaxed state from moments ago fell away, leaving her gaze
clinging to his.

“But first, let’s get you fed. You’re going
to need energy for later.”

With weak knees, Anabelle slid onto a metal
stool at the counter he indicated and took a sip of wine. The flavor blossomed
on her tongue and as she waited for her nerves to calm, she took in the view. A
massive bed in the loft corner caught her eye and she bit her lip. The bed
looked…well, rather large, big enough for two to wrestle and play and…do stuff.

She jumped at the feel of his warm hand on
her knee. Her gaze clashed with his.

“Nervous?”

She
cringed,
he’d
caught her bouncing her knees like a nervous kid waiting to see the principal.

“Don’t be.”

Argh. The cool and collected illusion she tried
channeling wasn’t happening. She needed to get a grip. Think Zen thoughts,
Anabelle.

He squeezed her knee while a silent look
passed between them. The timer went off and saved her from melting right off
the stool. She wasn’t sure she would make it. Derek pulled the fish out, plated
the pasta and dribbled sauce on the perimeter of the square, white plate.

“Fancy.”

“Presentation is important.” He shrugged
and wiped the plate edge. “Besides, I like pretty things, don’t you?” He
winked.

The urge to fan her hot face was strong but
she refrained. Derek took his seat across from her at the peninsula counter.

“Cheers.”

She raised her glass and took a gulp of liquid
courage.

“Here’s to uncharted territory.” Another
gulp.
Which uncharted territory did he
mean? If he meant that virgin territory, she wasn’t sure if she was ready. That
was strictly exit only in her book.

He must have read the anxiety in her
expression and he chuckled, the sound rough and way to sexy for her state of
mind.

“Here’s to hot and dirty sex.”

Oh, that territory. “Yes,” she said, seconding
the notion, the sound more like a squeak than she wanted.
Was this really happening?
His gaze bore into hers, singing her so
she took another gulp.

“Easy there, wild thing. Don’t want you getting
sick.”

She nodded. She was fairly certain
projectile vomiting would kill the mood. It would definitely kill her
confidence and another five years would pass before she’d get the nerve for
another experiment like this.

The experiment of epic
proportion.

The experiment of getting
laid, of having a male induced orgasm.

So yeah, she accepted a glass of water.

The fish and pasta were delicious, but she
was too nervous to eat. She managed a few bites while they discussed the
success of last night’s Halloween bash. Derek didn’t suffer from nerves so
managed to finish his portion in record time. When he was almost done, she gave
up the pretense of eating.

“I need to use your bathroom.”

He gave her an assessing look. “It’s in the
alcove next to the bedroom.”

She made her escape, made her way past
large scale sepia photographs of what looked to be the Emerald Palace, the Great
Wall and possibly Saint Basil’s Cathedral. The bathroom mirror showed a woman
with flushed cheeks and wild eyes. The woman was a stranger. Anabelle thrived
on being perfect, organized, in control. This woman didn’t look remotely in
control.

She wasn’t sure if she could go through
with the experiment. What if the problem truly was with her? What if she was so
bad at sex and had made Gavin gay like the rumors implied? If the experiment
were a disaster, would she be able to face him? The longer she stayed in the
room, the more she convinced herself this was a bad idea.

Very bad.

Anabelle splashed water on her cheeks,
rinsed her teeth and popped a mint. She left the sanctuary of the bathroom and made
her way back to the kitchen where Derek was cleaning up.

“Derek, I don’t think…” she trailed off,
unsure of what to say. This was out of her realm of normal behavior.

With one look at her face, he turned off
the faucet, wiped his hands and grasped her hands. “Hey now, don’t back out
now.”

“No. It was a poorly thought out idea.”

“That’s fine, Anabelle. Relax. We don’t
have to do anything. We’ll just dance…and relax. It’s been a long week and it’s
a beautiful day so let’s enjoy the rest of the afternoon together.”

He pulled her into the unfinished living
room, although calling it a room was incorrect. It was more like an enclosure contained
by fabric.

“Sorry for the mess, the girls spent the
night and we built tents.”

She nodded, seeing it from a child’s point
of view. There were no walls, the space was mostly open and cream-colored
fabrics were draped and suspended from the trusses. Derek had strung Halloween
lights from the rafters and winded them along a vintage candelabrum turning it
into a sparking chandelier. Carved, plastic pumpkins lit with battery-operated
lights were scattered about. The effect was both whimsical and magical.

“You’re a nice uncle.”

He shrugged, not replying but she detected
a hint of color on his cheeks. Anabelle stood by the lone, leather sofa while
he walked to the carved wood console that held assorted electronic devices
situated in front of a giant flat screen television. He grabbed a remote and
selected through the apple TV menu. Moments later, the soulful voice of Etta
James drifted from hidden speakers. Derek tugged her into his arms and she let
him.

He linked hands with her, holding her
loosely against him with the other. He moved slowly, swayed with her in his
arms while Etta crooned about belonging at last. Minutes later it was only
natural that she slid her free hand up his chest and sank into his embrace.

His big hands moved up and down her back,
tracing along the bumps of her spine as if he had all the time in the world, as
if she weren’t on the verge of running for the door.

But he was good that way.