Worth Waiting For (7 page)

His mouth pressed harder against hers, deepening the kiss. She trembled, opening her mouth wider to accommodate the entrance of his soft, wet tongue.

Freddie pressed her backward, trapping her between the sink and his hard body. There was no option to get away—not that she wanted to. His right arm slipped around her waist and Julia melted into him, moaning softly as his tongue continued to probe her mouth.

Something inside her shifted, opened up to the pleasure he offered. Awash in sensations that drowned out all logical behavior, Julia clung to his neck, pressing her body against his hard length to savor every firm inch of him. She didn’t want the kiss to end. She was engulfed by pleasure which had slept for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like.

It was more than that. She’d never felt this type of intensity before. She’d never felt as if she were submerged beneath a whirlpool of emotion. His lips stroked across hers in such a way, it was as if he knew her and everything secret she’d tried to hide. She felt invigorated and more alive than she had in months—years, even.

When he drew back, she whimpered like a needy pup, shamelessly pressing her body against his. She wanted—needed this closeness and intimacy he offered. In an instant, his hands slid to her bare thighs and lifted her off the floor as if she weighed little more than a feather.

He placed her onto the cool marble of the island and cupped her face, his touch gentle as if he handled a delicate flower. She did feel delicate, staring into his dark eyes, feeling the harsh breath of his own labored breathing.

With a groan he crushed her to him, kissing her with more passion and fervor than before. He tugged her lower lip, drawing a whimper from her throat at the pressure of the pleasure-pain. He quieted her with the stroke of his tongue across the sensitive flesh before moving his lips to travel across her cheek and down to her jaw line. Her head fell back, offering her neck to the tender passion of his mouth.

Of their own volition, her hands reached up to his hair. She licked the side of his neck, and he groaned something incoherent as the rubber band holding his ponytail snapped. She slid her fingers through the glorious ebony curls and let them glide over her fingers like water.

His hands, rough from years of manual labor, slid behind her knees and pulled her closer to him. Julia wrapped her legs around him, sealing their bodies tightly together. One hand slipped under her t-shirt. The touch was like a brand against the skin of her back. His hand eased up toward her bra as his mouth covered hers again.

Excitement built up inside Julia. Her stomach muscles quivered in anticipation. Kisses weren’t enough. She wanted more. She was starving for affection, starving for intimacy, starving for Frederico Mendoza.

 
One bra snap came undone.

Yes!

Her throat tightened at the thought that his big calloused palms would soon touch her sensitive flesh. His fingers moved to pop the other hook.

He stopped.

She heard the same sound he did. The front door had opened. There was the unmistakable jingling of keys.

No, it couldn’t be.

Her father had returned home!

CHAPTER SIX

They froze, staring into each other’s eyes.

Freddie stepped back, his chest heaving, and his rugged face filled with tension. His dark hair lay loose around his shoulders.

Julia dropped onto her feet. She reached to adjust her clothes with shaking fingers, but then she realized they weren’t in disarray. Despite the intensity of what had just taken place, she was still fully dressed. But she felt naked, exposed. She found the courage to look up at him as the sound of her father’s whistling came down the hall toward them.

Freddie ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth the rumpled curls and bring himself back under control. He moved to the back of the island, and she knew why. He wanted to hide the manifestation of what their kissing and touching had done to his body.

“Hey, Sugar—” Randolph halted at the entrance to the kitchen when he saw Freddie.

“Hello, Mr. Newman.” How did he manage to sound so calm?

“Hi, Dad!”

Her voice sounded brittle and breathless. Her observant father would immediately recognize something was amiss. She could only imagine what they looked like—two adults acting like guilty children caught with their hands elbow deep in the cookie jar.

“Well . . . hello . . . Freddie.” Her father’s eyes moved from one to the other. “You’re here kinda late.”

Julia jumped in immediately with an explanation. “He joined me for dinner since you couldn’t make it.”

 
“Mhmm.”

Julia wondered if it was too much to ask to have the kitchen tile separate and allow her to fall into a hole to the basement below. Anything would be better than having to experience her father’s embarrassing antics, which were assuredly on their way.

“And I was just leaving,” Freddie added.

Their gazes connected. She wanted to say something to him, but what could she say with her father standing right there?

“That’s right,” Julia said in agreement. “We just finished dinner.”

Her skin tingled all over. The press of his mouth on her neck was still fresh in her mind, and she knew for certain it wouldn’t disappear any time soon.

“Thank you for dinner, Julia,” Freddie said. He moved toward the door. She couldn’t look at him right then. It would be impossible to do so and keep the longing from her face at the same time. Instead she watched her father, who watched Freddie with interest. “Good night, Mr. Newman. I’ll see you Monday when I do my inspection at the end of the day.”

After the front door closed behind Freddie, Randolph looked at Julia. “
Mhmm
. . .”

“What do you mean, mhmm?” Julia asked, knowing she shouldn’t have asked.

“Mhmm, something’s going on between you and that Mexican fella.”

“Dad, he’s not—”

“I mean Puerto Rican fella.”

“Nothing’s going on. You have an overactive imagination.” She wouldn’t talk to her father about what had transpired between her and Freddie. Time to change the subject. “How was your date?”

“My date was fine. We had to cut it short because Irene has an early morning tomorrow. How was yours?”

“I didn’t have a date,” Julia said in a firm tone.

“Hard to tell, with the dim lights and soft music playing . . . and what was he doing here at this hour? He’s never stayed this late before.”

“I told you, I invited him to dinner when you bailed on me.”

“Mhmm.”

“You know what, I’ve had enough of that. Go to your room.”

Randolph wagged a finger at his daughter. “I may be blind, but I can see just fine with my glasses on.” He emphasized the statement by adjusting the frames on his nose.

“
Good night
.”

Grumbling to himself Randolph left the kitchen.

Julia shook her head in delayed amusement.
He’s so frustrating
.

She stacked her dish and silverware in the dishwasher and looked over at the table. She stood, motionless, staring at Freddie’s abandoned beer bottle. She drew an uneven breath and ran the tip of her tongue across her lower lip. She could still taste him intermingled with the sharp taste of the beer. His lips had been firm, yet soft.

Even his warm touch still lingered on her skin where his big hands had spanned her waist and caressed her lower back. If her father hadn’t arrived, how far would she have let Freddie go? Farther than any other man had gotten in over a year, that’s for certain.

She touched her fingers to her still throbbing mouth.
It was just a kiss, Julia
. It felt like so much more, though. It felt like an explosion of the senses, rocking her normally well-ordered world. A mind-numbing, soul-searing kiss.

She glanced down at the broken rubber band on the white tile floor. She blushed at the recollection of how she’d stripped it from his hair so her eager fingers could run through his soft ebony locks.

She shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh. She’d made a mistake tonight. It wasn’t smart to get involved with someone you did business with. She hadn’t been thinking. She got caught up in the excitement of it, but she should have stopped him. The woman controlled the pace in an intimate situation. Wasn’t that what her parents had repeatedly told her and her sisters from the time they were adolescents? Now it would be awkward to have to face him on Monday because she hadn’t exhibited the willpower necessary to control the situation.

Julia got the rest of the dishes and finished packing the dishwasher. She picked up the beer bottle and the torn rubber band. Next time she would—no, there wouldn’t be a next time.

She dumped the items in the trash with a resolute thrust, turned off the music, and walked down the hallway to her bedroom.

****

Freddie slammed his closed fist against the truck’s dashboard and muttered a curse. He sped along Highway 20 heading west. Distracted by his anger, he paid little attention to the speed limit.

He lost his head back there and there was no one to blame but the guy in the cabin of his truck. He’d been the one to make the move and he shouldn’t have done it. Not once had he ever crossed the line, even when a woman made it clear she was open to his attentions. He might do some light flirting, but he never made a move on a client. It wasn’t smart. It was bad for business, and it created awkwardness in the business relationship.

The need to comfort her had overwhelmed him. He hated knowing she had given up on love. He’d wanted to show her not all men were dogs, and he’d—well, if he were honest, he simply hadn’t been able to help himself. Her lips were so inviting.

“That’s no excuse,” he said aloud.

He would have to apologize. That would be the first thing on his to-do list if he saw her on Monday.

The truck slowed to a standstill at a traffic light after he turned off at the exit that would take him home. She tasted and felt so good, though. Soft and sweet. He could have held onto her forever. She had smelled fresh and clean, too, like she’d stepped out of the shower only minutes before. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Thinking about her in the shower had a painful effect on his body.

A car horn blared behind him. Freddie looked up at the vehicle in the rearview mirror. He wanted to give the other driver the finger, but he was in the wrong. He sat at a green traffic light fantasizing about a woman who probably right at the same moment regretted her actions way more than he did.

Freddie hit the accelerator and ran his fingers through his loose hair in agitation, but doing so only served to remind him of the bold way she’d torn free the rubber band to run her fingers through his hair.

 
Monday he would apologize.

He had two days to practice looking sincere when he apologized for actions his body didn’t have the least bit of regret about.

****

Monday afternoon Julia returned home with knots in her stomach. Normally she would be at the office longer, but she told herself there was no point avoiding the conversation she needed to have. She wasn’t one to run from problems. She faced them head-on, and she would do the same with the indiscretion that took place Friday night.