Serving Pleasure (10 page)

Long ago, he had liked his women sweet, had liked chasing them and watching them blush. Rana was…intrusive. Bold. Aggressive. Crossing boundaries. Following him. Propositioning him. Leaving her curtains open for him.

Cute. He leaned against the window, remembering her triumphant face when she had found the condoms in her purse. She was cute and funny, and she made him want to smile when little else did.

It’d been a one-time thing. He had told her he wasn’t looking for anything more. She’d agreed.

He glanced back at the couch. Studiously avoiding thinking about her wasn’t working. So for a brief second he allowed himself to indulge, imagining Rana spread out on his couch while he sketched her.

Mistake.

The images wouldn’t stop coming once they’d started. Rana, modeling for him. Rana, tumbled on his lonely mattress. Rana, sitting in his kitchen, eating cereal with him.

On her back, bent over his table, on her knees.

God, how he wanted her again.

No one else would do. He wanted
her
.

The night he’d spent in her arms had been like a balm to his soul, the most physical intimacy he’d experienced in forever. He had no idea how long he’d been waiting for it.

He needed that intimacy again. How could it be over?

He straightened. Perhaps it didn’t have to be. Perhaps he could simply…see her again. They’d agreed on nothing permanent, but talking didn’t mean permanence. He’d happily steal another few minutes in her company.

He needed to see her. Right now, right this minute. She didn’t make him feel like the man he used to be, but she sure as hell made him feel something.

As his father had said, half was better than none. Something was better than nothing.

“
R
ana
?”

Using the office’s small mirror, Rana finished putting on her lipstick. “Yes, Jyoti?”

“Um. There’s, um…”

Rana mentally sighed. The restaurant’s newest hire was a sweetheart and somehow vaguely related to their family, but she was timid as hell. Though Rana tried to rein herself in at work, the other servers were mostly young, and they didn’t mind her occasional F-bomb or her more outrageous skirt lengths. Jyoti made big eyes at her and stammered.

Rana pressed her lips together and examined the effect of the bright red lipstick. She looked fresh and young, and the poppy went well with her skin. Her date tonight ought to be impressed.

Briefly, Charlie’s words about makeup slid through her head, but she shook them off. She could change a lot of things about herself, but asking her to go without her favorite colors brightening her face? That was inhumane.

“Um, Rana?”

Giving herself one last check in the mirror, Rana heaved a barely perceptible sigh and turned. “Jyoti, if there’s something you need tonight, Leena is going to—” She cut herself off. She’d only turned on the banker’s lamp sitting on Leena’s desk in order to get ready, but the light from the hallway was more than enough for her to see the hulking man standing behind Jyoti.

His long hair was clubbed back, as usual, his snug white T-shirt and faded jeans displaying the powerful body she’d had on top of her. Under her. Between her legs.

The body she hadn’t gotten nearly enough of.

How had he found her? Why was he here? “Whaaaat is happening?” she whispered.

“Rana? I—I’m so sorry, I told him to wait out front.” Jyoti cast the man a terrified glance.

“I followed her back here. It’s not her fault,” the mountain man rumbled.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she cast Micah an irritated glance. Like she’d blame the girl for his presence? “We only beat our staff on Wednesdays.” Gentling her tone, she directed her words at the waitress. “It’s okay, Jyoti. Thanks for your help. You can go back to your tables now.”

The girl gave him one last startled look and then scooted away, her black braid swinging.

“Timid,” Micah remarked, and stepped inside.

He was so damn big, it was like he sucked up all of the air inside the small office, making it feel so much tinier than it was. “Please,” she managed. “Look at you. Of course you scare her.”

His face tightened, and he raised his hand to touch the scar on his lip and cheek.

Oh, that cruel, cruel bastard. Like she needed to recall what that scar tissue had felt like when he’d pressed it against her clit.

Rana crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a thin silk top, and her demi bra wouldn’t hide her perked-up nipples for shit.
Come on, body. Don’t betray me now.

“It’s a good thing she didn’t see me when the scar was fresh, then,” Micah said coolly, and she blinked at him, realizing he wasn’t merely fingering his lips to trigger memories of the most exquisite cunnilingus she had ever received.

She shook her head, annoyed. “Um, it’s not the scar. You’re like eighteen feet tall, if you didn’t notice, and built like a linebacker.” She frowned. “A linebacker is a football player. Football is, of course, our version of rugby.”

The corner of his mouth curled in a subtle sneer. “I am well aware of what a linebacker is and understand what you mean when you refer to football, thank you. But your American football players would cry if they ever had to play rugby.” His face softened, and he stopped a couple feet away from her. “You’re looking well.”

Needing some sort of stabilizing force, Rana stepped over to the desk and leaned against it, all the while keeping her arms crossed over her chest. She didn’t trust her damn nipples not to wave at the man. “Thanks. Ah. What are you doing here?”

A shrug. He avoided her eyes, glancing around the small office. “I wanted to see you. You weren’t home. I assumed you were at work.”

She pushed aside her excitement and immediate response to the first part of his statement.
OMG I’ve been wanting to see you too! Take off your pants.

Focus. “How did you know where I work?”

“I…” Was that a flush? “I Googled you.”

Not a crime, out and out. Hell, she Googled all sorts of people, including every single date she went out with. Except… “You don’t know my last name.”

He shifted. “I went to your mailbox and looked at your mail.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What? You…you can’t do that! That’s a crime. You committed a federal offense.”

“I’m ignorant of some American laws, but I believe that I would have had to tamper with your mail in order for it to be a crime.”

She narrowed her eyes, standing up straighter, filled with righteous indignation. “Regardless. You can’t just, like, look at my mail, Google my name, and then come to my workplace. That crosses so many boundaries—”

“You spied on me for weeks.”

Fuck. That took the wind out of her sails.
Months. More like months.
Um, maybe he didn’t know the extent of her spying. Oops. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Well. That’s. That’s…different.”

“How?” His eyes glinted. “Still a crossing of boundaries, I’d say.”

She gritted her teeth. “Because I wasn’t stalking you. I was…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, more softly. “Okay, fine. But no more tit for tat, okay? I already apologized for that.”

He exhaled a long, slow sigh. “I didn’t bring that up to… Fuck me.” He ran his hand over his hair, the motion making the muscle in his biceps jump.

She bet the sales rep she was going out with tonight didn’t have biceps like that. Sad face.

“I didn’t Google you to get back at you for something you did. I did it because I wanted to see you, and I didn’t want to wait until you were home.”

Surely it was the light in the office that made it seem like he was flushing.

Ahh, no. It wasn’t the light. God damn, but he was so stinkin’ cute.

She tried to school her face so she wasn’t simply staring at him in glee. “Why did you want to see me so urgently?”

He opened his mouth, but she raised her finger, the click of high heels distracting her. The restrooms were down this hall, and while the restaurant was currently slow, she didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone, not when this new turn of events was so utterly fascinating. She crossed over to the door and shut it, then turned around, holding the doorknob in her hand. Not because she wanted an escape route—she felt no fear with this man—but she needed something to keep her tethered to reality. “Sorry. Now, what was so urgent?”

He rubbed his fingers together. They were stained black under the nails. Charcoal, or maybe pen. She imagined him not taking the time to scrub his nails thoroughly before hunting her down.

Heart. Melting.

His lashes shielded his dark eyes. “It was silly now. I see that. I should have waited.”

“Nope.” She pressed her shoulders against the door when he took a step toward her, as if he was going to leave. If he wanted to get through the exit, he would have to ram through her. “You broke a federal law and came all the way down here. You don’t get to leave without telling me why.”

He walked toward her until his chest was a few inches from hers. She wanted to breathe harder so her nipples could brush against him.

Damn. She’d had sex with this man? Go her.

“Why aren’t
you
scared of me?”

She blinked at the question coming out of left field. “Um, I’m not scared of any man.”

He shifted closer. This time her nipples did brush his chest. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“No?”

“N-nope.” She cleared her throat. “Men are easy. Simple creatures. Uncomplicated.”

His lashes fell to half-mast. “Uncomplicated.”

“Yup.” The back of his hand brushed over her belly, and she tightened her abdominal muscles.

“Hmm.” Another stroke of his hand. “Is this what you wear as hostess here?”

If there had been a hint of condemnation in his tone, she would have verbally smacked him, but she heard only interest. She glanced down at the tight dark jeans and bright purple tank top. “No. I have a date.”

She looked up in time to catch a flicker of…huh. Was that anger tightening his expression? He stepped away immediately, putting a few feet of distance between them. “You said you weren’t with that man.”

It was hard to remember the face of any other man when this guy was in front of her. “Charlie? I’m not. This is someone else.”

His nostrils flared. “You’re certainly popular.”

“I am indeed,” she said lightly, though annoyance and disappointment stirred. Ugh. Save her from men who couldn’t handle a girl seeing more than one man in her lifetime.

She’d hoped he was different, though God knew why. It wasn’t like she nurtured hopes that they could have some sort of relationship. “Do you want to see my little black book? It’s pretty thick.”

His lips twisted. “How long have you been with tonight’s man?”

She rested her hands on her hips, growing displeased with his moody tone. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I asked you if you were involved with anyone before we slept together. That was important to me.”

“And I told you I wasn’t,” she snapped. “I wasn’t lying. So put two and two together, genius.”

The silence in the room was heavy with tension, but she could see the instant he realized what she was saying. His shoulders relaxed. “You weren’t with this man then. This is another first date.”

“Ding, ding, ding.”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I…apologize. I was out of line. It’s none of my business who you see now.”

“Damn right.”

“I have some…issues related to getting involved with women who are already in relationships.”

“Well, don’t take your issues out on me.”

He winced. “Yes. Apologies.”

Rana pursed her lips. She could make him squirm some more, but he did sound remorseful. She’d let it go, she supposed. For now. “Fine. Are you going to tell me about what brings you here?”

He stared down at the floor and exhaled, as if he were facing a very difficult task, before looking up again. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her jaded, skeptical, cynical heart fluttered. It fucking fluttered. She stopped herself shy of placing her hand over it and sighing.

Other men had told her the same thing, but never had the words held such a ring of sincerity and truth. “Oh.”

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Oh?”

“Well, give me a minute.” Her words were calm, but her mind had started to churn. What did he mean, he couldn’t stop thinking about her? He couldn’t stop thinking about the sex?

Neither can I. Can we have it again, pretty please?

“I…may have thought about you during the last week,” she admitted.

“Your blinds have been closed.”

Because she’d had to keep them closed. The man still hadn’t bought window coverings, and she wasn’t about to risk seeing him and then crawling over on her belly and begging for more orgasms. She had her pride. Kind of.

She gave a jerky shrug. “I didn’t think it was appropriate. I might have been tempted to watch you.”

“I like it when you watch me.”

Her breath hitched, and she grew more breathless when he loomed closer and slowly drew his arm around her middle, as if he were afraid she would break or bolt. He turned, walking her backwards until she was pressed against the desk and he was pressed against her. “I can’t function, Rana. All I can see is you.”

There went her heart, fluttering a second time. “I— You want to sleep with me again?”

“Yes.”

She nodded, feeling like one of those silly bobblehead dolls. “I thought you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

His eyes cooled. “I’m not.”

Silly to feel disappointed. So this was nothing more than a need to scratch an itch that hadn’t gone away. One night hadn’t been enough, but maybe another night would be. “Oh.”

“I thought you weren’t, either.”

She wasn’t.
You’re not
.

She had to think, damn it. What would New Rana do?

She wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place, moron, because she wouldn’t have gotten into her car and followed her hot neighbor and then tumbled into bed with him.

Look at him, standing in her family restaurant’s office, with his scruffy clothes and long hair and giant shoulders and tree-trunk thighs and that ass she hadn’t even gotten to explore, not really—

How many times do I have to tell you to focus, idiot?

He wasn’t the type of man she could bring home to her mama. And that was the only kind of man she could have now. So she couldn’t have him.

But if this was simply an affair, an extension of their one night together, what would it hurt? No one would find out. She could make it into like…a week-long binge instead of a secret nibble. Maybe a couple-weeks-long binge.

She was still wrestling with herself when he rested his hands on either side of her hips. “If you don’t want to sleep with me, at least model for me.”

She reared back. “What?”

“Model for me. I have to get you out of my system one way or another.”

She thought of that couch in his studio, the one she’d never seen a man or woman on. Then she thought about his paintings. “Um. Do you always do nudes?”

His lashes shielded his eyes and his thoughts from her. “Generally, yes.”

“So what you mean is you’ll get me naked one way or another,” she half-joked, but he didn’t smile. No surprise. Did he ever smile?

“I don’t need to hire models to look at naked women,” he said with so much arrogance she was tempted to punch him in the shoulder, but she couldn’t, because he was dead right, the jerk. He could fondle her boobs now, if he wanted to, and she would only be able to make excited squeaks. “I do actually want you to model for me.” He squinted, and suddenly that dark gaze was very far away, locked on something only he could see.

She was…flattered. Utterly and totally flattered. Hell, she had a good body and a decent face. This wasn’t the first man who had told her she should be a model. But she had seen the caliber of his work, and she knew he was the real deal.