"You got it."
Kate winced and looked away, but with each prick of the needle, Gen edged closer to satisfaction. Maybe it was time she accepted that she didn't always have to walk in the light. Do the right thing. Make good choices. Maybe there was more to her than she ever thought possible, and getting this tattoo was her first step.
Gen smiled and gave herself up to the experience.
"HOW WAS YOUR DATE?"
It killed her to be casual, but Gen decided she'd die before showing her real emotions. Jealousy. Rage. Confusion. Jealousy.
He hadn't come home last night. Of course, Wolfe warned her, but still she'd stayed up until dawn, listening for the door to open. He waltzed in at 8 a.m. doing the whole walk-of-shame thing. Except he wasn't in the same clothes. Freshly showered, dressed in faded Levi's and a black tank that showed off sculpted arms and his ink, he looked like sin on a stick. Relaxed, too. Like he'd wrung out all his previous tension having wild monkey sex with the slut. Umm, date. Whatever.
She needed to stop talking to herself.
"Good. You got extra bacon?"
She fumed but forced a sunny smile. "Sure. Did you have fun?"
"Yep. Are you making eggs, too?"
Her eye twitched. "Worked up an appetite, huh?"
He pulled back at that remark and studied her. She turned away and fiddled with the skillet, cursing her inability to be cool. The silence behind her spoke volumes. Wolfe finally cleared his throat. "How was your night?" he asked.
Her back tingled in rebellion. If he thought she'd been lying around with the remote, he was sorely mistaken. "Really good." The bacon sizzled in the pan and spurt out fragments of grease. She maneuvered the spatula around the eggs. "It was actually kick-ass."
She sensed his frown but refused to turn around. "Oh. That's good. Your date is tonight though, right?"
"Yep."
"You went to Mugs with the girls, then?"
She scooped up the eggs and bacon and slid them over. Picked up her coffee and sipped. "Nope. I got a tattoo and a Brazilian wax."
His expression was well worth the shock factor. Those blue eyes widened and his lower lip hung down a bit. His gaze scoured her from top to bottom, settling on the apex between her thighs before quickly being dragged back up. Sweat popped up on his brow.
Gen grinned and dug into her eggs.
"What the hell are you talking about? What tattoo? Where? Why?"
She shrugged. "Felt like it. I think the Brazilian hurt more."
An intense light gleamed in his eyes. Her body reacted by saluting to attention. Her nipples stiffened. She grew wet between her legs. She hated it. Having him cross over from the camp of friend to man she desperately wanted to sleep with was brutal. Should she try to get back some of the ribbing and teasing associated with their friendship? After all, if Wolfe was sleeping around, she couldn't be included in the troop of women he desperately wanted to sleep with. So if it was just her panting after him, she better get back on equal footing.
"Why do you need it?" he asked roughly.
"The Brazilian?"
His fingers clenched the fork in a death grip. "No. The tattoo."
"Told you. It was impulse. Kate came with me. She was pretty freaked out by the needles and my nakedness."
The fork clattered to the floor. Wolfe breathed heavily. "Who saw you naked?" he asked in a high voice. "Where did you get it?"
She arched a brow. "Calm down, dude. You got a piercing in your dick. Had to hurt like a bitch. Why'd you do that?"
Ah, he flushed again in that kind of adorable, masculine way. Ducking his head to pick up the fork, he tossed it across the counter. She got him a replacement, waiting for his answer. "Because I was pretty screwed up at the time. I pushed limits, didn't mind pain, and wanted to torture myself for a bunch of messed-up things."
She leaned forward. Her voice was whisper soft. "Like what?"
"Never mind. I really don't want to talk about the piercing, Gen. Where's the tat?"
Disappointed, she turned back to her breakfast. Of course. After all, they didn't share dark and lonely stories. An emptiness pulsed in her gut, with the need to know more of him. It had never mattered before--she was always grateful for whatever he chose to give. Now?
Not so much.
She patted her lower back. "Tramp stamp."
He sucked in his breath but she ignored him. Cleaned up her plates and stacked them in the dishwasher. "Can I see it?" he asked.
"It's covered. I'll show you another time." No way did she feel like revealing it to him right now, when she felt so vulnerable. If he tried to touch her, she might lose it. Best to keep the tone light and let him know the expectations for tonight. "I need you to sleep at your apartment tonight."
Darkness crossed his face. "Not a good idea. I think David's watching and I don't want you to be alone two nights in a row."
"I won't be. If everything goes according to plan, Charles will be staying the night. I'd rather not get into any awkwardness."
"You don't even know the guy! What if you're not attracted to him? Why can't you have a nice dinner and come home? We can go over his assets and liabilities together over a beer and TV."
Her temper surged. She made sure not to bang his plate around when she cleaned it up. "Maybe I'm looking for more than friendship tonight, Wolfe. Maybe it's time I prove to myself there are other men who'll want me."
"Sweetheart, don't talk like that. A man would be nuts not to be hot for you. I don't want you to rush or make a bigger mistake if he's not the right one. You need time. I'm telling you this stuff because I'm your friend."
"Yes, you are." He flinched. She wiped the counter and began stacking the dishwasher. "As my friend, you'll make yourself scarce. I'd rather bring him here than go to his place. This date means a lot to me. I have a good feeling about it, and I miss sex. Connection. I need to know there's something more than what I had. Is that so wrong?"
He pushed his fingers through his already tousled hair. Frustration beat in waves around his figure. "Does Kate know your intentions?"
"Yes."
He frowned. "And she's okay with this?"
Gen dragged in a breath and grabbed for patience. How could he have slept with a woman last night and have the nerve to ask her questions? Judge? Why were the rules different for her? "Kate encouraged the encounter." The lie came easily. Was it the first one she'd really told him? Or did all the denial about being unhappy with David count, too?
"Can I meet him first?"
She gasped. "No! Did I meet your so-called date last night before you screwed her? Look, this topic is now closed for discussion. The house is off-limits tonight. And I'll share as many details about my date as you did yours."
Gen stalked out of the breakfast nook with those fighting words, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. Wolfe never lost his temper. Gen knew he was ruthless in business. Sexual around women. But with her, he was consistently easygoing and relaxed.
Fascinated, she stared into his eyes and noticed the tick in his jaw. The way he ground his teeth. The raw sexual energy pouring from his body in waves. Those blue eyes filled with a swirling array of emotions she couldn't name. What did he want from her? And why did this anger feel so different? Almost as if it was combined with lust and want and sexual frustration?
"You really want to know what happened last night?" he growled. His fingers burned into her skin. She wanted to cry out with satisfaction for receiving his mark.
"No thanks," she shot back. "Don't need to know how many orgasms you gave her. I already know you're a champion in that department."
"Don't push me. You may get more than you bargained for." His breath rushed over her mouth. Coffee and peppermint. She stiffened so she wouldn't lean closer for a taste. Gen meant to step back, cool down, and let it go. The song from Frozen screamed out at her. Begged her. Let it go. Let it go.
"Maybe not." She tilted her head all the way back and challenged him. "Maybe it's you who'll be
surprised if you push me."
His breath came out choppy. "What are you doing, Gen? Or do you even know?"
The cryptic conversation seethed with boatloads of meaning. Her body shook with the force of holding her emotions back. "Ready to tell me about your hot date now?" she taunted. "Bet she was a skinny-ass model. You like those. Bet she had moves that put you to shame. Did she stay the night or did you kick her out at the 3 a.m. mark? That's when you usually get itchy."
He muttered a vicious curse. A sense of danger settled over her, and she pushed harder to make him lose his patience, sensing she'd finally get to the real stuff.
"Did you have the talk beforehand, letting her know it's just fun and games and you don't do relationships? At least after she screams your name a number of times, you can make yourself feel better by saying you were honest. Walk away with a clear conscience and a smile on your face. How many orgasms erase your guilt?"
His other arm shot out. He dragged her against his chest, fury pumping from his pores. "One more word," he warned, "and I'll show you clearly what she got last night."
Excitement curled in her belly. "I'll give you two."
"Don't you dare."
"Fuck. You."
His mouth slammed down and claimed her.
Gen pushed herself up on tiptoe, dug her nails into his shoulders, and met his tongue halfway. They drank, twisting their bodies against each other in a desperate, vicious craving for contact, for skin and lips and teeth, for his dick thrusting between her thighs again and again and again.
Feasting, drowning, he cupped her ass and lifted her high up, grinding against her while his tongue never stopped diving in and out of her mouth. Gen burned up in his arms, shaking with a desperation and need to have him completely, and she moaned low and needy while he captured the sound and drank deeper, until . . .
The doorbell rang.
They stumbled back from each other like they were caught in a White House sex scandal. A knock followed the bell.
"Gen? It's Arilyn. Kate's running late so she'll meet us at the dog park. You ready?"
Their gazes caught and locked. Her lips throbbed and she wanted to press her fingers to her mouth and confirm that the kiss had really happened. The floor seemed unstable under her feet. The clean scent of his soap and lemon lingered. Her body pulsed with need to finally put an end to the torture, but she pummeled it back at the sight of his expression.
Reserved. All emotion was wiped away and there was only . . . distance. A polite distance. A friendly distance.
Her gut clenched. Fighting off the sickness, she turned and opened the door to Arilyn.
Her friend floated in with two leashes in hand and squirming, happy puppies. "Hi, Wolfe. Hope I didn't interrupt breakfast." She must've caught the odd aura in the air because she trailed off, glancing back and forth. "Or something."
Gen forced a smile. "Nope, we just finished. Didn't we?"
Wolfe gave her a moody look. She held her breath, but he slowly nodded. "Yeah. We did."
Gen dropped to her knees and buried her face in comforting fur. She refused to let him see how much he'd hurt her. "I'm ready for the park," she said brightly. The black-and-white mottled puppies jumped up and down, swiping her cheeks with wet tongues and nibbling on her fingers with sharp baby teeth. Maybe she'd get a dog. They always made her feel happy. "Are you going to the office, Wolfe?"
"Not today."
His curt words made Arilyn stare at him. Gen stood up, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door. "See ya later."
She felt his gaze boring into her back as she stumbled in the need for escape. Gen grabbed one of the leashes and ignored Arilyn's raised brow. Screw it. She'd have a nice day with her friends and dogs and eat ice cream, and then she'd go home early and get ready for her date. Much better if he didn't return until tomorrow. Tomorrow, the balance might be back in order.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
"Gonna tell me what's going on?" Arilyn asked.
"No."
Her friend gave a soft laugh. "Didn't think so. I'm here if you need me though."
"I know. And I'm here if you ever want to talk about Yoga Man."
They shared a knowing look, then burst into laughter.
nineteen
HE WAS LOSING his mind.
Wolfe paced the small kitchen and waited for Gen to come out of the bedroom. He'd already texted her this afternoon to apologize for being an asshole. She quickly forgave him via a smiley face on the phone, but he sensed there was something much bigger and more complicated seething under the surface.
He'd kissed her.
Again.
A groan spilled from his lips, and he pulled a beer from the fridge. Her taste would haunt him forever. So sweet. Better than juicy fruit and sticky honey. The way her body molded to his, responding as if she had no choice, swept up in a hurricane or tornado or some type of God-driven event. Silky skin and wild hair.
He'd been two seconds from taking her against the wall. Or the floor. Or the counter. If Arilyn hadn't walked in, who knows what would've happened. The possibility haunted him all day until he felt halfway insane.
He shouldn't be here. Most of the morning was spent at the gym. Her announcement shattered any rational thought and splintered his brain with two of the sexiest words on the planet.
Tattoo.
Brazilian.
He wouldn't be seeing either of them. Maybe her date would. Hell, Wolfe knew he should stay put in his apartment and ride out the storm. Tomorrow, things might be better between them. Back to good old friendship.
Wolfe cracked open the top and guzzled. The icy liquid soothed his throat but did nothing to quench the thirst in his soul. Odds were good nothing physical would happen tonight. Gen might talk a good game, and her body might want sex, but her head and heart usually got in the way. She wasn't built for one-night stands. Not like him.
He figured he owed her an apology in person. He'd square things up, then leave her alone.
The bedroom door burst open.
Wolfe sucked in his breath. She was gorgeous. Her hair fell in neat ringlets that his fingers itched to mess up. She'd lined her eyes with some type of black that made the navy blue depths jump right out and grip tight. The smattering of freckles across her nose made his lips want to follow the trail, ending at her plump pink mouth.
But the dress killed him.
He knew about the little black dress. This one was little, all right. With her curves, the hemline rode up a bit higher than normal, showcasing her muscled calves and generous hips. The material was some weblike lace substance or crochet, knit together in a delicate pattern that stretched over her breasts and plunged dangerously to a V like a thrill-seeking ride plummeting down a dangerous hill.
Glittery, jangly silver jewelry draped her body. Chains around her ankles and wrists, with earrings swishing in her hair. The shoes crisscrossed in the front, zippered in the back, and screamed edgy sex.
His spit dried up. Under the little black dress, she sported a Brazilian wax that left her completely bare, open, and accessible. Her usual fresh scent had been replaced by a musky sandalwood perfume, exotic and slutty at the same time. He fucking loved it.
He fucking hated it.
"Can you finish zipping me up?"
His ears registered the request but his feet were frozen to the floor. He probably looked like Forrest Gump, looking confused and spouting about chocolate.
"Wolfe?"
"Yeah, sure," he muttered. He dropped the beer onto the counter and forced himself closer. She fisted her hair in one hand and lifted the strands off her neck to give him easy access. The dress gaped open and flashed the vulnerable line of her spine, the silky soft skin at her nape. His hands shook as he grasped the tab and pulled up.
The hiss cut through the sudden, explosive silence. He caught her quick, indrawn breath. Awareness crackled between them.
"Thanks."
He kept his hands on her back for a brief moment
. Fought the urge to zip it back down, strip her naked, and take her right there, no more questions or asinine excuses or polite conversation.
Instead, he stepped back.
"Sure."
She glanced at her silver watch and clicked over to the coffee table. "What are you still doing here? I told you everything's forgiven." Her smile flashed in the dim light. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Was she wearing one of those tight corset things to make everything look smooth and even beneath the black fabric? She didn't need it. He imagined how his hand would sweep over the familiar curves. Funny, he didn't know what color her nipples were. Ruby red and tart like cherries? Or like her mouth, a soft blush of pink that turned dusky with arousal?
The room tipped drunkenly and flames engulfed his blood, churning thick and sluggish in his veins. Maybe he had the flu. Or he was having a heart attack. He'd never experienced arousal this intense before. He didn't even think it was possible.
"Wolfe? Are you listening?"
He shook his head and fought for clarity. "Just wanted to see you off. Make sure you're safe. Does Kate have this guy's number?"
An amused smile touched her lips. "Of course. He's a client. I have money, too, Dad."
"Let me stay." Her eyes widened but he rushed on. "I swear, if I hear a guy's voice outside I'll jump out the window. I want to be sure David doesn't come poking around."
She straightened her spine and grabbed her ridiculously small beaded purse. "No. You promised and I'm holding you to it. David hasn't bothered me in weeks and I think he's gotten the message. I need my privacy for tonight. It's important to me."
"Don't sleep with him, Gen."
The plea spit from his lips before he could wrestle the words back. She gasped and teetered on her high heels. For one minute, he swore she'd agree. She'd walk over, put her arms around his shoulders, and tell him she didn't want to sleep with anyone but him.
"I can't promise anything." Her gaze challenged him to stop her or try to change her mind. "I want what you have."
Emotion drained from him in a rush that left him empty. If it was up to him, he'd fight the demons of hell to make sure she didn't have a life like his. Sex that ended with emptiness. A heart that was numb at the center. The last month of being around her had changed him. Brought a steady peace and vibrancy he had only experienced in spurts before. But it couldn't last, and eventually if he took her to bed he'd lose the last great woman who made all the pain worth it.