Sweet Nothings: A Karma Café Novella (6 page)

This was it.

Her underwear was lace.

Her legs were waxed.

And instead of tools in her bag this time, she had sex toys. Well, her version of sex toys, which meant a jar of hot fudge, a can of whipped cream and a couple of silk scarves.

All she needed to reach orgasm central was her man.

She was ready.

Even fisted tight, her hand trembled as she pounded on the door again.

At least, she would be if Anja would answer the darned door.

She heard a sound across the hall and damn near ran back down stairs. Nope.

Orgasms, she mentally shouted.

She forced herself to remember her vow the previous day. A vow to a woman reputed to be a witch was binding, wasn’t it? She’d promised to be brave. To face her fear. She’d thrown herself at Anja’s feet and begged for help in seducing, um, the cutie next door.

She
really
had to find out his name.

As she tried to calm her racing heart, she heard the door behind her open. Her stomach dove into her feet as she spun around.

“Hi,” her sexy prey greeted with a warm smile.

“Hi.” She cleared her throat, then tried again. “Hello. I’m here to finish the work on the sink. But first, I needed to find Anja.”

He nodded, then tilted his head toward his apartment.

“She said you’d be coming by. She had to deal with some emergency or other, but she asked me to help you.”

“Help me?” Bianca breathed. Had she filled him in, convincing him that he wanted to seduce Bianca instead of the other way around? Anja rocked.

“She left something here for you, said you needed to eat it right away?” He gestured her into the room, his smile intact, his eyes intense.

Bianca’s smile dimmed. Okay, so Anja didn’t rock as much as she’d hoped. What about the rest of the help? The help Bianca actually needed. Getting into the guy’s apartment wasn’t the point, Bianca’s pipe wrench could do that. Getting in his pants was the goal here.

Still, one step at a time.

So she took hers by crossing the threshold, the door swinging shut behind her. Almost as if on its own. She shivered a little, then gave her gorgeous guy a tremulous smile.

“It’s nice of you to help me out.” She wet her lips, taking in his appearance. “I hope I didn’t interfere with your plans?”

He was casually dressed, jeans more worn than hers and not nearly as tight. A green tee shirt a few shades darker than his eyes. And that smile. Full lips curved in a friendly smile that did nothing to soften the sharp angles of his face. There was something intimidating about him. An unspoken power that assured her this guy knew what he wanted and made sure he got it.

Clearly, he was totally out of her league.

Biting her lip, Bianca glanced toward the safe escape of the door. Then she looked back at the hottie and sighed.

She missed the towel.

It’d been much easier to ignore the warning signals when her brain was taken over by lust.

“My day was wide open, so I was happy to offer my services. I’m not quite sure what I’m actually offering, though.” With a rueful laugh he pushed one hand through his hair, the long strands falling over his fingers. Bianca wanted to touch it, to feel if it was heavy or soft, silky or not.

But was her interest reciprocated? At least yesterday she’d been able to gauge his reaction to her flirtation attempt by the extension of his towel.

Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans and she wet her lips.

Impressive, but not very telling. Damn that denim.

“Anja didn’t say anything else?” she asked, not caring that she sounded a little desperate. Hadn’t the other woman offered a subliminal suggestion that he strip naked? Or maybe wave her hand in front of his face, whisper a few magical words that included seduction, Bianca and orgasm central, then snap her fingers to make it so? Or, hell, even a
Dude, Bianca’s coming by and she’s hot for you
?

“Nope, she didn’t say anything.”

Clearly, Bianca was way off with her witchy expectations.

“She knocked, hurried in and left this, then ran back out.” Moving into the kitchenette, he gestured to a dome covered glass plate on the counter.

Moving so fast she almost tripped over her stylish-yet-practical--yes these really are for work—boots, Bianca joined him and lifted the dome.

A perfect golden crust sprinkled with a glistening dust of sugar was centered in a sweep of raspberry sauce. The rich scent of cinnamon, apples and pastry filled the room, as if an entire batch of turnovers had just been taken from the oven.

“She did say you might be willing to share, though.”

For a guy who supposedly had no idea he was in the seduction cross-hairs, he sure had a cautious look on his face. Like a hunter gauging his prey, waiting to pounce.

She’d like to be pounced on.

But hey, she had an apple turnover.

“Anja left this, too.” As if just remembering, he pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket.

Shivering when their fingers brushed, Bianca took the scrap of parchment and glanced at the flowing script.

Enjoy. As long as you’re sure
.

Was she sure?

It’d be easy to take her turnover, and a few pretend-measurements of the kitchen as a cover, then run away.

But she didn’t want to run away. She didn’t want to be sweet and pure and good anymore. Not with him... whatever his name was.

She wanted hot and wild and fun instead.

“I’m Jacob, by the way,” he offered, along with a fork.

It was like a bell chimed, signaling the last requirement being met. There it was, now she knew his name. Her last excuse to pretend she wasn’t here to seduce him disappeared in a puff of imaginary smoke.

Time to put up or shut up. So she took a deep breath and reached for the apple treat.

“Did you want a bite?” she offered, forking up a generous portion of the still warm, deliciously flaky turnover.

His eyes didn’t leave her face. What was he looking for?

He didn’t say. Instead, he shook his head. “Thanks, but no. I’m still full from the muffins and breakfast frittata Natalia brought up this morning.”

Bianca swallowed a cinnamon-infused bite of apples, then tilted her head. “Are you sure? I hate to be rude. And to eat alone.”

“How about I sit and visit with you while you eat?” Pure charm, his smile lighted his eyes. Man, he was cute. “You can explain what this is all about. Are you on a sugar-restricted punishment and Anja’s your enforcer? You can only eat sweets behind closed doors? A bossy family with control issues?”

His smile widened as if he were joking. But his eyes were narrowed, still watchful. Bianca shifted uncomfortably. Did he know why she was here?

“It’s a special recipe Anja was trying out,” she said around another scoop of apples. Oh my God, this was delicious. “She’s got this competition thing going on with her mom and doesn’t want Natalia to know what she’s making.”

Bianca was proud of that. Every word was as true as this turnover delicious, and none even hinted at the fact that she planned on Jacob as her dessert’s dessert.

“Have a seat,” he invited. “Let’s talk.”

His tone was friendly, but the little hairs on the back of Bianca’s neck stood on end. As if warning her that he was after something. And not the same something she was after.

But, what?

She lowered the plate to the counter with a frown. Where this sudden wariness had come from?

Before she could ask, or even figure out how to word her curiosity since he hadn’t done anything truly suspicions, everything did a loop-di-loop.

Her head felt woozy and the room spun in a slow, sleepy circle.

“Are you okay?”

Jacob was spinning, too. She reached out, grabbing onto him with fingers that didn’t seem to work, trying to make him stay still.

He felt so good. Hard and warm. What else was hard and warm. Her eyes dropped to the potential behind his zipper, but before she could check for herself, the spinning swung in the other direction.

Bianca’s knees turned into a puddle of goo.

Although falling into his arms held appeal, this wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind.

She couldn’t quite focus.

It wasn’t the sugar, though, that was rushing through her system. It was nerves, tangled with something she barely recognized. Something she hadn’t felt in over ten years.

Bravery.

Nerve.

A sense of entitlement.

Suddenly, she was a powerful woman. A smart, savvy woman who deserved to revel in her own strength. To take what she wanted, to enjoy every opportunity.

She wanted Jacob.

She wanted him for sex. She wanted to feel his body under hers, over hers. She wanted to explore every sexual fantasy she’d ever shocked herself with, with him.

Taking a deep breath she found her balance against the swirling and stepped back. She needed a little distance from Jacob’s body for this part.

Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse, sliding the small beads free and letting the cool, freeing air dance over her hot skin. Her head spun again, making it hard to stay upright. But she’d be damned if she went horizontal before she got naked.

She wanted all of that, and she wanted it now.

And, damn, it felt good.

Horrified, Jacob watched Bianca’s fingers slide down the front of her shirt, each inch revealing bare silky temptation. His mouth watered and his head buzzed.

Before he could protest, hell, before he could drag his jaw off the floor, she swayed again. Her eyes softened, then blurred.

He rushed forward, grabbing her just before she melted into the floor.

“Bianca!”

“You’re so pretty,” she murmured in a hazy drunk tone, looking as if she was trying to pick up a mountain, she lifted her hand to his face and swept those fingers along his jaw.

His dick jumped as if she’d just petted
it
.

The woman had just fainted at his feet, and he was getting horny. Nice.

Disgusted with himself, Jacob lifted her into his arms and, after a dismissive glance at the short couch covered in green Muppet fur, he glanced toward the bedroom.

Half-naked woman. Bed.

Bad idea.

He settled for the couch.

“You need to sit down. Should I call a doctor? Family? Natalia or Anja? Someone?” He tucked the pillow behind her head, put another under her feet, then stepped back before he was tempted to touch anything in between.

“I don’t know what happened. Sugar rush, maybe. I’m okay, though,” she said, her voice still woozy as she pressed the tips of her fingers against her closed eyelids.

“Let me call someone. Get you a glass of water. Something,” he offered, hating how helpless he felt seeing her so weak. All of a sudden, bringing her back to Boston didn’t matter. He couldn’t care less about beating Lynn White or finding Robert’s daughter. Jacob just wanted Bianca safe.

“No, I’m fine. Don’t call anyone. Just give me a second to do this right,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. Jacob hovered, hands ready to catch her, until he saw she was steady.

“Do what right?” Were the women she worked for that controlling that they’d make her work after a fainting episode?

He really did need to rescue her.

“Strip. I’ve never done it before. It seems like it should be simple, but the simplest things are always the hardest, aren’t they?”

No. His dick was the hardest.

Something Jacob forced himself to ignore while he debated calling someone again. She looked okay, but incoherent babbling couldn’t be a good thing. Especially when she was babbling about things like stripping.