Read Smooth Moves Online

Authors: Betty McBride

Smooth Moves (3 page)

At his tone, she frowned, “Seven years. I’m not dramatizing this. She knows I react to mosquito bites, Rich. What does she do? Leaves the front door of the building open so they’ll come inside. She hates me because…”

“Candice…”

At his admonishing tone, her eyes darted to him, “You think I just hate myself, don’t you?”

He sighed before glancing at her as he pulled up to a red light, “You don’t exactly appreciate your health or looks.” When she opened her mouth, he cut her off with a sound of warning, “I’ll make you a deal. Get healthy and prove to me that you don’t hate yourself. When Liz comes into the deli, she’ll be green with envy. She’s already jealous but you don’t see that.”

She barked a laugh but, at his knowing look, snapped her mouth shut and nodded, “Okay, you’re on! I’m telling you…she just hates me because of her sister.”

He pulled into his house, nodding at her surprise, “Yeah. We don’t live that far apart.”

After giving her a tour of his place, he motioned into a spare room, “I’m using the other one for storage. Is this okay?”

She nodded, dumping her duffle bag onto the bed as he put her suitcase beside it. His hand suddenly rose to lift her hair off a shoulder, “You look ready to smoke a pack of cigarettes. No smoking in the house. Relax. Oh…I have a hot tub too.”

At her widening eyes, he added, “You didn’t pack your swim suit?”

Shaking her head as she thought of the various bumps in multiple places, she quickly said, “I don’t do swim suits.”

“Bare flesh is even better.”

“I did not mean that and you know it. I don’t do hot tubs, swimming pools, saunas, and…anything else showing skin.”

“Good God, Candice. You haven’t lived yet. That’s okay. I like a challenge.” Before she could say anything, he turned and shot over his shoulder, “Come on. You look hungry.”

“Um…where can I smoke?”

He pointed out on the patio, “By the pool. At least you can look at the sparkling water and fantasize.”

She headed out the patio doors, wishing suddenly that she did swim. Even though it was mid-October, he hadn’t covered it. She wondered if it was heated but got her answer soon enough when, halfway through her cigarette, he walked out to join her. Placing a large glass of juice in front of her, he motioned toward the pool, “You could always wear a T-shirt and shorts. It makes for a nice relaxing sleep.”

As they ate, she insisted that she wasn’t about to show any skin whatsoever. He assured her that it would help her healing to be relaxed and stress-free. The bantering continued until he dragged a heated gaze over her body, “You really think you’re ugly, don’t you?”

“Yes. NO! I just don’t want to think about it.”

Grinning widely, he suddenly leaned forward, “You’re damn sexy when you’re pissed.”

She gasped, coughing when a bit of juice went down the wrong way. His husky laugher drifted through the air as he rose and rounded the table. She tensed but was too busy trying to drag air into her lungs to resist when he patted her back.

After about three pats, though, he suddenly pulled her from the chair. Ignoring her sputtering, he swept an arm under her legs and carried her to the edge of the pool. With no other choice but to cling to his neck, her eyes widened as she screeched, “Don’t you…!”

He stepped forward off the edge, tightening his grip when she tried to push him away. Every stitch—long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and sneakers—molded themselves to her body. Holding her breath as her hair tumbled from the loose ponytail upon impact, she jerked when his feet hit the bottom of the pool to send them resurfacing.

Sweeping her wet hair out of her face, she vaguely realized the water was actually quite warm before his hot mouth closed over hers. Her eyes flew open to see his amused green ones pinning her in place. While her brain screamed,
get him off you right now;
her body almost slid down him as desire drenched her senses.

His hand cupped her ass, dragging her closer to him. The minute she felt his hard length against her, she tensed and pushed at him. He broke the kiss, breathing over her lips, “Kissing is healthy, Candice.”

Knowing her clothing was molded to every inch of her, she waded through the pool toward the steps. Before she could get up them, he was standing at the end holding his hand out as he dripped water and grinned. She froze, refusing to take his hand. He tilted his head, “I’m sorry but you need human contact and, regardless of what you might think of me right now, I am human.”

Scowling at him, she ignored his hand and trudged up the steps. He called out, “Grab a towel, Candice. Please don’t…”

She ignored him again, moving straight for the patio door but he growled, “There goes your cigarettes…oops.”

She froze, slowly turning to find him holding her pack over the pool. Stomping her foot, she shrieked, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You need to show emotions, Candice. Get that anger out and replace it with something else. I think we can create
something else.

Her eyes narrowed as they darted from him to the pack of cigarettes while she spat, “Like what? You told me I needed to relax, Rich. Now, you’re hell-bent on stressing me out!?!”

She started to shiver, causing him to swiftly grab a towel. When he approached her, she held a hand out, “Give me my cigarettes.”

He took one out and handed it to her, “I keep the cigarettes. You get the towel.”

“Rich! That’s my only pack.”

“And your last one if I have anything to say about it.”

“Who the hell made you my keeper?”

“I did.”

If he wasn’t currently holding her pack of cigarettes, she would have pushed him back into the pool. With a frustrated groan, she took the cigarette from his fingers. He opened the towel, “Come here, Candice, before you shake apart. Damn, you’re too skinny.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she warned as she moved toward him, “Don’t try anything funny.”

He wrapped both towel and arms around her while saying, “That kiss wasn’t meant to be funny. I didn’t find it humorous myself. Quite stimulating if you ask me.”

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

“I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Trying to keep her teeth from chattering, she was now shaking from his touch. He pressed his warm cheek to hers, “Do you trust me?”

She frowned, “Of course. You’re the only friend I’ve…”

“Calm down, Candice. I’m not going to throw you back into the pool.”

Gritting her teeth, she shivered as
that’s not what I’m worried about
wafted into her mind.

“What are you worried about then?”

Her eyes widened when she realized she’d actually said the words. Tensing every muscle in her body, she quickly shook her head but the next words stuck in her throat when his stubble raked her cheek. She didn’t see his grin as he suddenly released her, “Stay right there. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

Hugging the towel tightly around her, she lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. By the time he returned clad in dry clothes, she’d smoked it but needed another. He cocked an eyebrow, stifling a grin and held pajamas out to her, “You have nothing but long sleeves and pants packed.”

Nodding, she said, “I know. That’s all I own.”

“Why?”

Hoping to gross him out, she snapped, “Because I have sores all over me, Rich. I’m one big oozing bundle of angry flesh.”

Laughing now, he nodded, “
Right.
I forgot. We’re back to
oh woe is me.

“Okay, that does it. When I change, I’m going home. I’d rather live in my dark tomb than put up with you pushing my buttons.”

“Don’t make me tackle you again. Rather…please do. You know what happened the last time.”

She pulled the towel from her face but gaped at his bared chest. Turning quickly, she fled inside with her pajamas and didn’t stop until she was in her room. Quickly peeling her clothing off, she noted that her sores
were healing quickly as well.

Normally, she wasn’t overly bitchy, preferring to keep to herself but Rich wouldn’t stop pushing her. After dressing in the pajamas, she settled on her laptop but heard him pause and knock on her door, “Are you decent?”

“Yeah.”

He opened the door and held up her cigarettes, “See me when you want one.”

“What? You’re going to hold my cigarettes hostage?”

“Think of it as holding your health hostage.” Her jaw dropped before she asked, “Can I have one now?”

“You just smoked one, Candice.”

“And you’re making me want another one.”

Shaking his head, he advised her to drink some juice. She dug into her purse, finding two dollars and a few pennies. Groaning, she went in search and found him in the living room. Unused to manipulating, she put her hands together and begged. When that didn’t work, she drove her hands into her hair and shrieked, “What do I have to do?”

“Did you drink some juice?”

“If I drink some juice, can I have a cigarette?” He cocked an eyebrow at the panic in her voice but nodded. She quickly went to the fridge and poured a bit into a glass. He laughed behind her, “Try ten times that amount.”

After drinking her third glass when he complained that it was a small glass, he curled a finger at her. She stepped closer and thrust her hand out—palm up—but he shook his head, “Not until I get a kiss.”

She sputtered, “But…that…you didn’t…”

“Kissing is healthier for you than that juice.”

She stared at him for a split second before growling, “On the cheek.”

“Lips or no cigarette.” When she tensed, he shrugged and started to turn around. She danced in place before screeching, “Okay, okay. One peck.”

Breathless and almost shaking again, she stepped forward and stood tensely before him. He rolled his eyes, “You act like I’m a snake getting ready to strike.”

“I’m not used to men…”

“…desiring you. I get it.”

Her eyes widened as her mouth formed an ‘O’ at his words. He quickly took full advantage, pulling her to him and kissing her even deeper than before. She started pushing at his chest before her hands fisted in his T-shirt when his tongue darted into her mouth to explore.

A whimper spiraled up her throat, bringing her back to reality. She bit his bottom lip but, instead of releasing her, he tightened his grip and bit her back. She gasped and almost slid down him when he suddenly broke the kiss. With heated eyes, he growled a fraction of an inch above her lips, “I enjoy nibbles so, next time you’ll want to think that over before trying it.”

He released her so suddenly that she stumbled into a chair. Appearing as if he could eat her alive, he pointed to his bedroom, “Come on. I’ll get your…cigarette.”

She obeyed but skidded to a stop when he entered. Grinning knowingly, he handed it to her and nodded, “Just try stealing one. I’ll show you more uses for that mouth.”

She spun around and almost ran for the patio door. She admitted to herself that she’d love to climb all over him but thought he was just trying to make her feel better. While she smoked, she thought about him working tomorrow. Reminding herself to ask him about it, she tried to shove his kiss out of her mind but every sensual caress of his tongue made her ache for more.

Spying him on the sofa, she stubbed the butt of her cigarette out and slipped inside. Sinking down on the far end, she asked about his plans for working. He grinned, “See how cigarettes rule you.” At her frown, he shrugged, “You’ll just have to come to work with me. You need the money anyway and I need some help if someone comes inside. Besides, you can write there.”

She thought about it and finally nodded, “Okay. Will you let me have a cigarette without kissing you? I mean…what if someone comes in?”

His chest shook with laughter before he said, “They’ll see a couple kissing. Or you could wear short sleeves tomorrow instead.”

She tilted her head, wondering if she’d heal enough by tomorrow, “Can I answer that in the morning?

With a sly expression, he nodded and asked her about the article she was writing. As she told him what it entailed, he listened closely before asking why she didn’t write more in her blog. She shrugged, “Why? Do you want me to write more about the deli?”

“Well…we could use the exposure around here. I have an ad running in the local paper but every little bit could help. You could always journal about the difference it’s making with your health.”

Her eyes narrowed before they shot to his, “I don’t write about my condition, Rich. Too many of my clients have access to my blog. If they found out…”

“…they would think you’re trying to improve yourself.”

She stubbornly clenched her teeth, “How would you know? You’ve probably never had anything wrong.”

Knowing by her tone that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, he nodded, “Okay, Candice, but you’d be surprised.”

“I don’t want anybody’s pity, Rich. I’ve had enough of that.”

An awkward silence hung between them before he glanced at her, “You know, women normally don’t run from me. I have to admit…”

He trailed off when she started shaking her head, “I can imagine with your looks that women fall all over themselves—like Liz—to get introduced. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to cramp your style.”

He sighed, “What I was going to say, Candice, is that you are a challenge in many ways.”

“Can we just keep this platonic?”

“I don’t think platonic involves kissing.”

“Exactly. So why did you even take us there?”

With a sigh of resignation, he nodded, “Look, I don’t want to argue. I find you extremely attractive. That’s why I kissed you, Candice.”

He immediately rose and threw a hasty goodnight over his shoulder before leaving her on the sofa. Well aware that if she wanted a cigarette, she’d have to knock on his door, he left it open as he crawled into his bed. Her eyes widened at the prospect of having no control over her ability to smoke when she wanted but she went into her bedroom as well.

After tossing and turning, unable to shake the need for a cigarette, she groaned and climbed back out of bed. Her bedside clock read almost midnight. She crept into his bedroom, wondering where he kept them. Remembering him opening the bedside drawer, she eased it open but jumped when he grabbed her wrist.

Before she knew it, her back hit the bed and he was straddling her. Cocking an eyebrow, his face hovered over hers, “Remember…no kiss, no cigarette.”

His mouth slammed onto hers, driving every thought out of her mind. Forgetting her craving, her fingers thrust into his hair as her mouth responded with a world of need. This time, he tensed and broke the kiss. Checking himself, he turned to get a cigarette for her.

She quietly studied him, wondering at his fast withdrawal from the kiss. She suddenly realized a weapon of her own, “Can I have two in case I wake up in the middle of the night?”

He glanced back, discovering a knowing little smile, and swiftly turned the tables, “You’d have to sleep with me for two.” When her eyes widened, he said, “We can put a pillow between us. That way, you won’t have to wake me up again.”

She stared at him, trying to see if he was trying anything funny. When his face remained neutral, she reluctantly nodded, “Okay.”

A peculiar look flew over his face before he grinned and moved toward her, “What are you waiting on? If you don’t hurry up, I might change my mind.”

She scrambled off the bed, hurrying down the hall toward the patio. As she savored the cigarette, her eyes widened at her bravery. Meanwhile, Rich thrust his hand into his hair and mumbled to himself, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He hadn’t lied when he’d said he was attracted to her; she was like kissing a live wire. The minute she’d resisted him, he was hell-bent on wrecking her mind and body. One thing he found irresistible was a grounded woman who lacked ego. She was the epitome and presented a challenge to boot. With a body most models would drool over, she rocked the self-destructive persona which drew him in even more.

Normally, his presence from the TV commercials would have women falling all over him. In the past, the shallowness of people had driven him nuts. Now that his twin brother was doing the commercials so he could open the shop, he could care less about women’s admiring glances. Just when he thought he’d cornered Candice, she’d thrown him a fast curve by asking for a second cigarette. He’d known that one more kiss and his control would have fled.

She suddenly walked into his bedroom, holding her pillows in front of her body like a shield. He knew she was at least a size-C cup under those oversized pajamas. He throbbed just thinking about unwrapping the layers from health, mind, and clothing alike.

Thankful that the darkness hid his raw lust, he patted the bed beside him. When she got near enough, she asked, “Do I need to wake you up if I want to smoke again?”

Smelling the toothpaste she’d obviously used to cover up the ashtray breath, he grinned and tried to wipe the huskiness out of his voice, “I’m a light sleeper.”

He froze when she whipped her gaze in his direction. Finally shrugging, he admitted, “Give me a break, Candice.”

“I’ve
never
slept with someone.” His eyebrows flew up but she quickly corrected, “I mean…
actually slept
.”

Realizing he was locked into this weird scenario, he shoved a pillow between them and told her goodnight. Both settled into positions but, within a few minutes, each shifted to another. After a stretch of silence, he asked, “Do you mind if I turn the TV on? Sometimes that helps me sleep.”

“No, I’m the same way. I have a horrible time sleeping most of the time. Sometimes, I even…” Realizing she was nervously rambling, she trailed off with, “…make coffee.”

“Caffeine keeps most people awake. Does it help you sleep?”

She shrugged, “It does when I crash.”

He slid to place his back against the headboard, eyeing her for a second before he grinned, “You are so backwards. Potato chips for breakfast, coffee to go to sleep, and you’d sleep with me for a cigarette.”

“You make me sound like a nicotine-whore crossed with a junk-food junkie.”

He laughed before shaking his head, “That’s your view of yourself. What do you think of me? Tight-assed and straight-laced?”

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