Sweet Nothings: A Karma Café Novella (8 page)

Eyes wide, he laughed.

“Baby, we aren’t done yet.”

To prove her point, she shifted so she was straddling his body. She leaned forward, hands braced on his chest, to slide her tongue over her lips. Proving himself an ever-so-cooperative kind of guy, he instantly hardened against her thigh.

“Wanna take me for a ride?” she offered, wriggling her brows suggestively. Since a few other things wriggled, too, it took him a second to shift his focus to her face. When he did, though, he grinned.

“I’m ready if you are.”

Her nipples were tight beneath his fingers. Her thighs damp and shaky. Her body was hot and aching, just waiting for the blessed intensity of release.

Ready?

Oh boy was she.

Chapter Seven

“Wow. I think that fourth time did me in,” Bianca said, rolling over with a giddy laugh to prop herself on Jacob’s chest. His breath still short, she reveled in the pounding race of his heart beneath her hands.

She’d done that.

She’d excited him past reason.

She’d instigated incredible sex. Four rounds of incredible sex.

And she’d been frigging awesome at it.

What an incredible feeling.

She wanted to giggle.

She wanted to immediately text her friends and let them know she was hot stuff.

She wanted to send Anja a huge bouquet of exotic flowers as a thank you. That apple turnover had been pure magic. Not only had it made dust out of her inhibitions, it’d given Bianca the courage to do anything, everything she wanted. It was like something had broken loose inside her. A wall she’d hidden behind for years was suddenly gone.

And it’d been incredible.

Sexy.

Mind-blowingly delicious.

Four, baby. Count ‘em, four orgasms.

Apple turnovers were her new favorite treat.

She eyed Jacob, sprawled on the bed with one arm over his eyes, his breath still labored and his heart pounding in his throat.

Okay, her second favorite treat.

He was amazing. Sexy, wickedly talented with that delicious mouth of his. And so sweet. Sweet enough that she’d felt like crying at one point. He’d totally focused on her, as if he only cared about her pleasure.

And even as that pleasure had engulfed her, she’d felt something. Something more. Her heart, so carefully guarded, had peeked out. And, warming, it’d liked what it had seen.

Maybe that was just great sex. It wasn’t like she had a lot of experience to compare it to. Or maybe it was more. But suddenly, she felt as if everything she’d been missing in life had clicked into place.

She tried to shake off the nerves suddenly grappling in her belly. Silly. It was sex. Great, fabulous sex. That was all.

But still...

It made her smile. And hope.

Something she hadn’t allowed herself in years.

And something, she decided as she reached out to smooth her hand over the deliciously hard planes of Jacob’s rock-hard abs, something she’d think about later.

Right now, she wanted to do him all over again.

“Well,” she said, shifting to her elbow and giving Jacob a bright smile. “That was fun. What other tricks do you have to offer?”

He moved his arm and slowly opened his eyes.

He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t even smile.

The delighted sexual haze fading from her eyes, Bianca took a closer look at his face.

He didn’t even look happy.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

Well, there went the rest of her sexual haze.

Dammit.

All of a sudden, she felt very naked. And not in a good way.

Bianca might not have much—okay, any—experience with flings or casual sex. But shouldn’t he look a little happier? She might have been busy having the best sex of her life, but she’d been clued in enough to know he’d had a good time, too.

So what was the deal? She thought this was what guys wanted. Easy, fun and no strings.

Was he thinking that’s what she wanted? Strings?

She frowned, replaying the last six hours in her head, censoring the good parts so as not to get too distracted.

Nope. Not a single word about strings.

“What’s going on?” she asked before she could stop herself. Then, as if she were still riding on the aggressive energy of that apple turnover, she poked him in the shoulder with her finger. “Aren’t regrets supposed to wait until morning? We can do a lot more between now and then to add to your list, you know.”

Still no smile.

Hurt and angry, she shifted into a sitting position, taking the sheet with her. As soon as she did, he moved away.

“We shouldn’t have done this. I mean, it was great,” he quickly amended, the look on his face putting it in the same category as a root canal. “But we really shouldn’t have.”

“Why?” The hurt was fading, leaving only anger. Anger like Bianca hadn’t felt since she was a teenager, back when she’d always let passion and emotions lead her into trouble. She should bank it down, try to be calm.

But she was too pissed.

“Truth be told, it’s sort of a conflict of interest,” he said quietly, giving her a look of apology coated with regret, then rolling out of bed.

He didn’t even have the decency to stand there for a few seconds while she enjoyed the view. Nope, he immediately grabbed his jeans and yanked them on so fast she was surprised he didn’t give himself a wedgie.

This was not quite how she’d expected her fantasy sex scenario to play out.

“Why is us having sex a conflict of interest?” Frowning, she debated getting dressed, too. This seemed to be shaping into a fully clothed kind of conversation. But her clothes were all over the floor and she’d be damned if she was going to be bending and grabbing until she knew what interests were conflicted. Her stomach sank. “Are you married? Engaged? Otherwise attached in some form or another?”

“Hell, no.” His look of horror was comforting, in an annoying to know where he stood on commitment kind of way.

Bianca didn’t know why that pissed her off so much. It wasn’t like she’d seen more than a quick ride between them. She didn’t believe he was her Prince Charming, here to take her away to happily ever freaking after.

With each thought, she tugged harder on the sheet until it snapped loose of the mattress. Then, with as ferocious a frown as she could muster, she flounced from the bed, tossing the long swath of fabric over her shoulder, and glared.

“So?” She lifted her chin high, pretending she didn’t have to look up another six inches to meet his eyes. “What’s the conflict of interest you’re so worried about?”

His wince was a tiny thing, gone so fast she wasn’t positive she’d seen it. Then, like he’d run an eraser over his features, concern and hesitance disappeared and he gave her a look of pure, confident assurance.

“Actually I’m here for you. I want to bring you home.”

If he’d kicked her in the stomach, she couldn’t have been more shocked. Or more nauseous.

Home. He didn’t mean her cute little apartment above Cottage Caretakers. He meant Boston.

She could see it in his eyes.

Her pulse scrambled and her nerves jangled. Bianca needed to grab her clothes. She needed her purse, cash, keys to a car. She had to get away. But she couldn’t move. She was frozen, as if enspelled.

Spell or not, she was getting out of here. Even as panic tried to grab hold, she assured herself she’d get away. Because there was no way, not even for the sexiest guy she’d ever met, that she was facing Lynn White.

Never again.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Jacob cringed, shoving both hands through his hair.

A little sex and he lost control of his tongue?

Now, granted, the sex has been mind-blowingly amazing. The best he’d ever had. Actually, his limbs were still quivering—all five of them.

But that shouldn’t short-circuit his brain.

“I think you’ve wasted your time. I am home,” Bianca told him coldly. She pulled the sheet tighter around her as if her tone had chilled even her. Her face was frozen, as if she’d pulled down an icy shield.

Jacob damn near shivered.

He grabbed his shirt, but didn’t pull it on. Not out of any gentlemanly concern that he’d be dressed and she naked. Nope, it was pure erotic defense. If he was dressed and she wearing only a sheet, he was pretty sure he’d drop to his denim-clad knees and beg.

And if the look on her face was anything to go by, if he went down on his knees, she’d kick him in the face.

Deservedly.

“Look...” he started to say. Then he stopped. How the hell did he explain?

“How’d you find me?” There was an edge to her words now. He cringed, horrified that he’d upset her.

Please, oh please, don’t let her cry.

Then he got a look at her face. And damn near crossed his hands over his crotch. With her blue eyes chilled and the set of her chin, she definitely looked like she was in a dick-kicking mood.

“I work for White, Hunt and Carlisle,” he said slowly, standing his ground even when her face tightened. Her knuckles were as white as the sheet she held tight against her breast.

“She sent you?”

“You are Bianca White,” he said slowly, needing to hear her confirmation. He knew she was, but he couldn’t in good conscious discuss a confidential information until he’d at least given a nod to the legalities.

“My identification says Bianca Snow,” she said, not even looking at him as she scooped her underwear up off the floor.

White. Snow. Despite the tension in the air, he couldn’t hold back his look of duh. He did manage to keep from rolling his eyes, though. And vowed to make sure they never hired the same investigators for any future missing persons.

“My law firm has been looking for you for quite a long time,” he said slowly, searching for the right words. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought through his closing arguments. But none of his cleverly worded pitches had taken into account mind-blowing sex.

Her clothes balled in her arms, one hand still gripping the sheet tight against her, Bianca glared.

Then she swept into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Jacob dropped to the bed, his head in his hands.

God. What had he been thinking?

He’d slept with the daughter of a good, albeit dead, friend.

He’d had mind-blowing sex with a potential client, a woman who was critical in a multi-million dollar settlement.

And he’d lied by omission to a woman who was as sweet as she was passionate, as trusting as she was gorgeous.

He was scum. And now he had to convince Bianca to go along with his plan to stop Lynn from gutting her inheritance.

Somehow.

It was like wading through quicksand, but as deep as he was, Jacob couldn’t bring himself to regret having sex with her. It’d been too good.

As if she’d heard his thoughts and not only wanted to remind him of how good, but to rub his face in the fact that he wasn’t going to get any more, Bianca strode out of the bathroom.

Without her blouse.

Jacob gulped. He’d spent hours exploring the glorious bounty of her naked body. But seeing her in only her jeans and bra sent a shaft of desire south so fast he figured it was a good thing he was sitting. Otherwise he’d fall over from the swift loss of blood to his brain.

“Bianca, can we please talk this over,” he started.

She didn’t even look at him as she stormed out of the bedroom.

Jacob hurried after her, moving fast and grabbing her blouse before she could. Holding it hostage, he shook his head and repeated, “We have to talk.”