She’s having a blast, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with her.
Suddenly, a younger dude comes up behind her, sandwiching her between us and grinding on her ass. She smirks up at me, then turns around and says, “You’re not invited to this party, cowboy.”
Instead of getting mad, the kid laughs and dances away, and Mia returns to me. She only has eyes for me, and it makes me feel like the most powerful man in the world.
The DJ seamlessly changes the song and we spend the next two hours dancing without a break.
“Do you need some water?” I yell at her, but she just smiles and shakes her head no.
“Later,” she mouths and keeps shaking those hips. I’m going to fuck her from behind tonight, holding on to those hips. I reach for them now and pull her against me. She can feel my hard-on against her back, and she smiles up at me with pure female satisfaction.
I lower my lips to her ear.
“You fucking turn me on.”
She laughs and reaches up to cup my face in her palm, dancing against me. Jesus, how can she do this for so long? I’m exhausted, and I work out regularly.
But then it occurs to me—so does she. She’s used to standing in her kitchen for sometimes fifteen hours in a day. Of course dancing for a few hours isn’t difficult for her.
I’m shocked when the DJ suddenly comes over the mic and says, “Well, party people, this is the last song for tonight. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Be good out there.”
The house lights come up. Mia’s face is sweaty and happier than I’ve seen her.
“Are you ready to go home?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Okay.” I laugh and lead her outside of the club. The cool night air feels amazing. Mia’s fanning her face with her hand, but she’s still smiling and breathing hard.
“That was so fucking fun,” she says. “Thank you. Maybe the best date I’ve ever been on in my life.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of pressure. Now I can never outdo this one.”
“You’ll figure something out,” she says with a shrug. “That felt fantastic.”
“Do you go out dancing often?” I ask as I take her hand in mine, thread our fingers, and walk with her toward my car.
“Not as often as I’d like,” she confesses. “The girls and I go out sometimes, but this was long overdue.”
“We’ll have to make a point to go more often.” I open the door for her and she smiles up at me.
“I’d like that.”
The street lights are shining on her, making her eyes and face glow, and I can’t resist her. I pin her against the car and lean in, pressing the length of me against her. Kissing her like my life fucking depends on it.
Because right now it feels like it does. Nothing in my life has ever compared to the way I feel when I’m with this woman.
Her hands are fisted in my shirt on my sides as I cup her face and take and take.
“Get a room!” Someone shouts, bringing me out of the cloud of lust surrounding us.
I pull back and drag my knuckles down her cheek. She’s still breathing hard, but from the kiss now rather than the dancing.
“What do you want to do now?” I’m expecting her to say go home and get naked. I’m not expecting what comes next.
“French fries.” She grins. “I want French fries and maybe some pie. I think I’ve earned them.”
“Fuck yes, you have.” She lowers herself into my car and I walk around it to join her. “Where should we go for our late-night snack?”
“There’s an all-night diner about eight blocks from here.” She points the way she wants me to go, and I follow. “I had no idea you could dance like that.”
“I, too, am a mystery.” She laughs and reaches over to take my hand, which gives me pause. This might be the first time she’s ever grabbed my hand. It’s usually the other way around. “I knew a long time ago that the best way to impress a woman was to be able to dance. Most men don’t. So, you can take me out in public—to clubs, or weddings—and be proud of the way I dance.”
“That’s slick,” she says with a satisfied nod. “And makes me happy because dancing is fun.”
She points to the diner, and I snag a parking space right out front. “It’s busy.”
“It usually is,” she says with a nod. “Not many places are open twenty-four hours anymore. And this place has been here forever. They’re a staple.”
The diner is old-fashioned. White tables are surrounded by red booths. There’s a vintage jukebox in the corner. The lunch counter is white with red stools, and it looks like they make old-fashioned milk shakes and sodas.
“I feel like I just stepped back in time by about fifty years.”
“Exactly.” We sit in a corner booth, across from each other. I immediately take her hand in mine as the waitress approaches with menus and glasses of water. Her name tag says Flo.
“Something to drink?”
“Just water,” Mia says. I nod, wanting the same and we both set the menus aside. “We’re ready to order.”
“What can I getcha?”
“A big order of French fries.” Mia grins. “And what kind of pie do you have?”
Flo lists off about a half dozen pies and Mia licks her lips. “I’m going to think about it while I eat the fries.”
“You’re my kinda girl,” Flo says with a wink, then walks away.
“I’m surprised that you’re not tired.”
“I know.” She brushes her hair off her shoulder; then reaches in her pocket for a black elastic, which she uses to twist her mane up off her neck and out of her way. “That’s better. I should be tired. Addie dragged me all over downtown Portland today. I’m not complaining because it was fun. I don’t usually get to hang out with the girls one-on-one. If we have time away from Seduction, we like to hang out as a group.
“So, shopping through town was a great way to catch up.”
“What else did you do today?” I ask.
“We had lunch. Then we hauled all of my new things home, and she insisted that she come inside to help me weed through my closet. I needed to throw some things away, give some to charity, and make room for all of the new pretties.”
“Jesus, how much did you buy?”
“Way more than I planned to,” she says with a laugh. “But it’s fun. The clothes make me feel good, so why not, you know?” She shrugs. “Life’s too short to wear bad clothes.”
“That sounds like something Addie would say.”
“Oh, she said it about fourteen times today.”
Our fries are delivered along with sides of ketchup and ranch dressing, and Mia dives in. “Mm, salty goodness. Eat some.”
“I plan to.” I take my phone out of my pocket and snap a photo of her taking a bite of a fry.
“You take a lot of photos.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No.”
Her eyes are starting to get droopy. “Are you getting tired?”
“A little.” She smiles softly and eats her fries. “It’s because I sat down.”
“We can go.”
“Not without pie.” She finishes her fries and flags Flo down. “I’ll take a slice of the cherry pie to go.”
Flo nods and walks away to fetch Mia’s treat and our tab. Ten minutes later, we’re driving toward her house. It doesn’t take nearly as long to get there in the middle of the night with no traffic.
“I’m going to take a quick shower to get this sweat off,” she says.
“Good idea. I’m going to take one in your guest bathroom, if that’s okay.”
“Sounds efficient to me,” she says with a grin. “There are fresh towels and soap in there.”
While she’s in the shower, I plate her pie and get a fork, set them on her nightstand with half of a glass of her favorite wine, then go to take my own shower.
I’d join her, but we’re both exhausted. And as much as she
turns me on, and all I want is to be buried deep inside of her, I’m also looking forward to snuggling up to her tonight.
I’ve never been this guy. I’m not the guy that stays and snuggles all night. It’s never interested me.
And now you couldn’t get me to leave with all of the money in the world.
When I walk into Mia’s bedroom, naked except for the towel that I’m currently drying my hair with, she’s just slipping between the covers.
“Thanks for this,” she says, gesturing to the pie and wine. “I’ll sleep for a week if I drink this.”
“I think you’ll probably sleep for a week without it.”
She shrugs. “Probably.” She picks up her plate and takes a bite. “Oh God. I know I shouldn’t eat this right before I go to sleep, but holy Moses, it tastes good.”
“Can I have a bite?”
She looks uncertain. “I guess.”
She offers me a small bite and I raise an eyebrow at her. “Really?”
“You want me to share this pie?”
“Yes.”
“Camden, you totally could have also purchased a slice of pie.”
“I purchased this slice of pie,” I remind her.
“For me.”
“For us.”
She narrows her eyes and slips my tiny bite of pie in her own mouth, chewing slowly as if she’s considering what to do.
God, she’s funny.
“You know you want to share.”
“Or, you know, I don’t want to share.” She shrugs and takes another bite, making me laugh.
“Fine. Keep the pie. I had no idea you were so selfish.”
She grins and offers me a big bite, which I take and immediately nod in agreement. “Okay. I get it. I wouldn’t want to share either.”
“I’ll share with you. Because you’re nice, and handsome, and you bought it for me.”
“Your kindness is acknowledged and appreciated.”
Three bites later, the pie is gone, the plate set aside, and we’re scooting down in bed. I pull her against me, the way I’ve become accustomed to in the past few weeks since being with her again. Her head is on my chest, her arm and leg both draped around me.
“Are you comfy?” she asks softly.
“Oh yeah.”
“Do we want to do the sex tonight?”
I smirk. “The sex? No. I don’t think I could muster up the energy right now.”
“Thank God,” she says and kisses my shoulder. “I’m so tired. But if you want to, I can probably turn over and give you access.”
“You’re so romantic.”
She snorts and I push her onto her back and bury my face in her neck, breathing her in. “I always want you, Mia. Even when I’m bone tired from dancing the night away with you, I crave you. It wouldn’t take much for me to slip inside you and lazily make love to you until we’re both gasping for breath.
“But we’re tired. Tonight was a fun adventure. One I’d very much like to repeat in the not-too-distant future. Not every night needs to end with mind-blowing sex. I’m content to hold you. To be with you. To just feel you against me.”
“You are romantic,” she says quietly while running her fingers through my hair. “I like it. I’ve never been one for romance, but when it comes from you, I like it very much.”
I smile and kiss her softly, and return us to the way we were. “Go to sleep, Mia.”
She clears her throat and kisses my shoulder again. “Okay. Sleep well, love.”
She falls into a deep sleep, breathing evenly, and now my eyes are wide open. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, something to say as she falls asleep. She’s exhausted. Would she have used that word if she were wide awake?
I don’t think so.
Yet, hearing it from her lips has ignited a fire in me that I didn’t know existed. I do love Mia. Fiercely. I want to claim her, to be with her for as long as I live. My life just isn’t the same when she isn’t in it.
And I’m ready to give her the words.
To make her feel the way I feel right now. I know that she didn’t say I love you and that she was already half asleep when she said it.
I don’t care.
I need to tell her.
Chapter Thirteen
~Mia~
“How’s the new guy?” Camden asks as I change lanes on the freeway west of Portland. We’re on our way to my favorite orchard to pick apples.
“Pete’s great,” I reply with a nod.
“What do you like best about him?”
I love that Camden asks me thought-provoking questions. He doesn’t just leave the conversation at Pete’s great. He wants more.
Which tells me he pays attention and he gives a shit.
Basically, he’s a unicorn.
“Okay, here’s my list of things I like about Pete.” I clear my throat. “He’s super competent. Not only does he have a culinary degree, but he’s worked in high-profile kitchens most of his career, so he’s great under pressure.”
“Very important,” Camden says with a nod.
“Yes. Also, he patiently learned my recipes, and doesn’t try to take liberties with them. He knows that the food sells well just the way it is and he respects that, while also suggesting new menu items to incorporate as time goes on.
“It took me months to develop the aphrodisiac menu, Camden. It wasn’t easy. So, having someone else on hand who has ideas is refreshing.”
“I can see that.”
“He’s tough on the other kitchen staff, but not unreasonable. I also know that he’s not trying to elbow me out of my own kitchen. He’s enjoying his job. And because I trust him to run the kitchen without me, I can take several days off each week to work on new recipes, or interview new vendors.”
“Or spend time with your boyfriend.”
I glance over to see him smiling at me, and I squeeze his hand. “Yes. Like today when he’s going with me to pick apples.”
“They do sell apples at most grocery stores,” he says. “If not every grocery store.”
“It’s not the same as picked from the tree.” I take my exit off the freeway. This orchard is about an hour from downtown Portland. It’s not just an apple orchard. They also grow cherries and pears, and pumpkins for autumn.
“I can smell fall in the air.”
He barks out a laugh. “That comedian was right. Women love fall.”
“What’s wrong with fall? I like pumpkins and apples and snuggling up under a blanket by a fire.”
“It’s still eighty degrees outside.”
“It’s just barely fall. I hope you’ve been working out because these apples aren’t going to be light.”
“So that’s why I’m really here. For my manly muscles.”
“You’re the brawn in this operation,” I agree as I pull into the parking lot and cut the engine. “Are you afraid of heights?”
“Not really. Why?”
“Because we will be on ladders today.”
“They let customers climb ladders?”
“They don’t sell pre-picked apples. This is a DIY place, and that way the apples are super fresh. They make the best pie.”
He follows me into the main sales building to fetch crates for our apples, and then we set off down row after row of beautiful apple trees.
“Red or green?” he asks.
“Both.” I grin and stare up at some gorgeous Granny Smith apples hanging heavily on a tree. “Look at these beauties.”
“You have heart eyes, just like the emoji on my phone.”
“I love apples,” I reply with a shrug, and gesture for him to fetch me a free ladder from a few trees away. He drags it over to me, and I immediately climb up it to inspect the apples. “No worms that I can see.”
“I should hope not.”
I glance down to find him aiming his phone at me and he snaps a picture.
“Are you going to help me, or just take my picture all day?”
“Both,” he says with a grin. “What do yo
u need me to do?”
“I’m going to drop some apples down for you to put in our crates.”
We take turns picking and gathering apples for about thirty minutes. When I have five crates full, he frowns up at me from the ground.
“How many pies are you planning to make?”
“Maybe ten.” I shrug. “I don’t know, I’ll bake until the apples are finished. I’ll also use the leftovers for apple butter.”
“Ten? I thought you were going to make a pie.”
“There’s no sense in making just one. I’ll put apple pie on the dessert menu for the next week. It’s fall, so they’ll sell well.”
We make our way back to pay for the apples, and Camden wrestles them into my SUV, taking up the entire rear cargo space.
“This might be way too many apples, sweetheart.”
“I’ll find uses for them.”
He laughs and gets into the car with me. “Do I get to help make the pies?”
“Of course.”
“Do I get one whole pie to myself?”
“You’re really selfish when it comes to pie.”
“In case you forgot, it was you who sat in your bed and taunted me with cherry pie two weeks ago.”
“Poor guy.” I toss him a sassy smile and pull back onto the freeway toward home. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“With pie?”
“If you’d rather have pie than a blow job, yes, pie is all yours.”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“You have no idea.”
“This kitchen really is great,” he says an hour later after we’ve hauled all of the apples into my house. “It looks brand-new.”
“It is. I mean, the renovations were finished a while ago, but I’ve barely used the kitchen. It was important to me that I have a chef’s kitchen in my home, and that it be commercially certified so I could develop recipes and make some of the food ahead of time here at home.”
“That’s smart of you. Have you actually been able to do that?”
“Nope. Not even once . . . until today.” I grin and preheat the oven. “So, you get to help me on my maiden voyage in the kitchen for commercial purposes.”
“I’m honored.” He bows deeply, then grins at me. “Where do you want me?”
“Everywhere. But for this project, we probably shouldn’t have sex here. It’s just not sanitary.”