Shayla heard the worry in her mom’s voice, and that was the last thing she wanted. Evelyn Riggs had had enough to deal with in her life, having been married to a monster like Peter Riggs, not to mention the breast cancer. She certainly didn’t need to waste time fretting about her daughter’s love life, or lack thereof.
“We’ve cleared the air, Mom, so you don’t need to be concerned,” Shayla said. “In fact, he’s coming over for lunch in a few minutes.”
“It’s been a long time since you two were an item,” she prodded. “I imagine a lot has changed. I’m sure he’s changed.”
“True,” Shayla said, unsure where her mom was going with the conversation. “But don’t read a lot into it. It’s just lunch.”
She tsked. “Ha! You’ve cared about that boy for as long as I can remember, young lady. Moving to Florida didn’t change a darn thing, much to your father’s dismay.”
Why had she thought she could fool the woman? “You’re right, but if I start overthinking it, I’ll make myself crazy. Today we’re going to have lunch together, nothing more.”
If I hope it’ll lead to more, well, that’s my business.
“How’d he react to seeing you again?”
“At first he was angry, but we talked, and I think he understands why I did what I did.”
“You told him about your father?” she asked, her voice a little unsteady.
“Yeah. I think if Dad were still alive, Vance would’ve…”
“Of course he would’ve. He’s an honorable man. Nothing like the man I married.”
Sympathy for her mother prompted her to say, “Vance is a good man, that’s true, but so is Fred.”
Her mother sighed. “He’s so good to me that sometimes I can’t believe he’s real.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and Shayla said, “But he is real, and you deserve someone like Fred.”
“We both do, sweetie.” She paused, then added, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” Shayla replied. After they hung up, Shayla’s nerve endings were firing like pistons in a racecar engine. Was she doing the right thing? She’d gotten frustrated with Vance for wanting only a physical relationship, but she couldn’t deny her body ached for his just as much. All he had to do was glance her way, and her clit swelled and throbbed. When she imagined him stripping out of his jeans, his engorged cock within her reach, Shayla’s panties grew damp. All they’d done so far was some hot and heavy kissing, and already she was spiraling out of control. Her emotions were all over the place when it came to Vance. If she wasn’t careful, Shayla could end up on the losing side. When she heard her doorbell chime, her pulse quickened. Vance. She checked the clock. Right on time, of course.
Shayla tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothed her beige sweater down. Her jeans were a bit tighter than what she was used to, but they showed off her rear better than any of her others. When the doorbell blared again, Shayla sprinted from the room. She yanked the door open before a third ring.
Vance stood in the hallway to her apartment building and boldly eyeballed her. Slowly. As if afraid he’d miss something if he went too fast. Her pussy throbbed when his gaze stopped for a few seconds too long on her lower half.
“You look hot,” he murmured.
Her face heated. Oh my God, it wasn’t as if she’d never heard a compliment before. What was wrong with her? “Thanks,” she said as she let him in and watched him remove his heavy leather coat to reveal a black pocket T-shirt and a pair of snug-fitting jeans. “So do you,” she told him, appreciating the sight before her. Appreciating that for now, for today, she had him all to her greedy little self.
He sniffed the air. “Mm, something smells good.”
She smiled and led the way to the kitchen. “I hope you like grilled chicken.”
“Love it.” He leaned over the platter sitting on the table. “Are those potatoes oven-roasted?”
Worried he hated it, she answered, “Yeah, is that okay?”
“More than okay. I love those things.” He glanced over at her as he took his seat. “So you’re feeling better?”
“Yep. A twinge here and there is all.” She opened the fridge and peered inside. “What do you want to drink? I have sweet tea, water, and a few cans of soda in here somewhere.”
“Iced tea sounds great.”
She took the pitcher out and poured them each a glass. As she handed his over, she said, “I just made it this morning. I hope its sweet enough.”
Vance took the glass from her and drank a third of it down. “It’s perfect,” he said when he came up for air. “Damn, I was thirsty.”
“I gathered.” She laughed and sat down, acutely aware of their knees touching beneath the table.
He picked up the platter and served them each a chicken breast and potatoes. “We’ve been at the diner all morning beating the crap out of four-by-fours and tearing out the old wiring. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
She started on her salad first but noticed he didn’t follow suit. “It sounds like you have quite a job ahead of you.”
“We do. Not sure any of us knew how big a job until today.” He cut a large chunk from his chicken and brought it to his mouth. Shayla held her breath, wondering if he would love it or hate. When he cut another and stabbed it with a fork, she started to breathe easier. “You’re a hell of a cook, Shay,” he said as he cut yet another. “Want to come work at the diner?”
“As a cook?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
He swallowed a few more bites of his chicken and took a long drink. “Woman, if you didn’t already have your own business, and clearly a successful one, I’d try and talk you into coming to work for us.”
That he was serious surprised Shayla. “But you have a cook, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Eddie is great. He’s been with us for years, but if the restaurant gets as many customers as we’re anticipating, then he’ll need help.”
When he started on the potatoes, Shayla’s heart melted at the notion that he was so enthusiastically eating the lunch she’d cooked for them. How wonderful would it have been to have this every afternoon with Vance? And each morning, sitting across the table from each other before they headed off to work.
All too easily, Shayla pictured Vance coming home after a long, hard job at some construction site, taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless. They would’ve talked about their days over dinner. God, so many years lost, and all because she’d let her father dictate the way she should live her life. All because she’d been too much the coward to stand up to the tyrant and take control of her life.
After her salad was finished, she dug into her own meal. Soon Vance was wiping a napkin over his mouth and sitting back, a look of utter satisfaction on his gorgeously rugged face. When she noticed he had yet to touch his salad, Shayla frowned. “You didn’t eat your veggies.”
He picked up a cucumber slice and popped it into his mouth. “Tastes good, but I’m full.”
She pushed the bowl closer to him. “You were supposed to eat your salad first, though.”
He pushed it right back where it was. “Says who?”
She started to pick up her drink, but his question stopped her. “It’s just something you do. In our house, Dad had a very specific way of doing everything, and that included dinner.”
Vance laughed and leaned one elbow on the table. “You need to come to a Jennings gathering, then. It’s total chaos there. Every man and woman for themselves.”
Shayla couldn’t comprehend a meal like that. “When Dad was alive, we would dress in our Sunday best every night for dinner. No one spoke, and you were to eat every last bite or you didn’t leave the table.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” he said in a tender voice.
Her brows scrunched together, and she looked down at her barely touched meal. She was full, but she’d been prepared to eat all of it. God, even now her father had her obeying his every command. It was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, for Lord’s sake.
“Shay?”
She glanced up to find Vance staring at her with sympathy and understanding. Too late she realized she’d been sitting there staring at her plate, not speaking. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second.”
He reached out and took her hand in his. When he twined their fingers together, Shayla knew that nothing had ever felt more right. “When you’re with me, you eat what you want. Dessert first, if that’s your preference. Got it?”
His words thrust Shayla back to the first time they’d met, and she smiled. “Do you remember that time you came up to me at lunch? You asked to sit with me.”
“How could I forget?” Vance bobbed his eyebrows. “I’d been looking for an excuse to talk to you ever since I first saw you in Biology.”
Even now Shayla’s cheeks heated as she recalled how shy she’d been around Vance. “I’d been secretly crushing on you, you know.”
He cocked his head to one side. “You were, huh?”
Shayla nodded “Yeah, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually talk to you. I kept losing my voice whenever you came within ten feet of me.”
He squeezed her hand. “If I recall, I offered you my dessert.”
“Apple crisp,” she said, as if it were yesterday. “I ate every bite too.”
“Hmm, yeah,” he murmured. “I liked watching you eat. It kind of turned me on.”
Shayla’s entire body warmed at Vance’s admission, but as she thought again about her father and his strict rules, she cringed. “Sometimes it’s like I can hear my dad’s condemning voice in my head. I forget that I don’t have to do what he says any longer.” She paused and added, “Thanks for not thinking I’m certifiable.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and caressed the back of it with his lips. “You’re beautiful and delicious, and I can’t stop thinking about you, but I don’t think you’re crazy.”
Her heart stuttered. “Do you have to be back at the diner right away?”
His grin was pure wickedness. “Nope.”
Shayla couldn’t think straight when Vance looked at her like that. “Oh, uh, that’s good. Would you like dessert, then? I-I made some chocolate chip cookies.”
“Definitely dessert,” he replied in a deeper tone, “but I’m not really in the mood for cookies.”
She watched him stand, and her body revved to life. “You aren’t?”
He shook his head as he tugged her out of the chair. “The only thing I want to taste is you, honey.”
“Oh, God,” she moaned, her legs turning to rubber as he brought her up against his body. The solid wall of his chest snagged all her attention, and she was loath to look away. No one would blame her if she stared, though, considering Vance had a body that would surely make women of all ages pant. Why should she be an exception?
“Take off your clothes for me,” he murmured. “I need to see you.”
Shayla’s face heated. “Here?”
In the bright light of day?
“Yes, here.” He paused, then, a little softer, he added, “You aren’t bashful, are you?”
She clenched her eyes closed tight. “It’s been so long. A lot has changed. I’ve changed.”
She felt a fist beneath her chin, and she opened her eyes to see Vance staring down at her with such a gentle expression it made her heart ache. “You think I won’t like what I see,” he murmured. “Is that it?”
“I might have been brave enough to seek you out after twelve years apart, and I won’t deny I’ve gained a great deal of confidence in myself in recent years, but stripping in my kitchen in the middle of the afternoon is a bit much. I…I just can’t.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You have a soft inner core that makes me feel fiercely protective of you, do you know that? It’s always been that way with you.”
That surprised her. “I do? It has?”
“Mm, and it’s just me, honey. There isn’t a single inch of you that could possibly disappoint me.”
“But—”
“I promise,” he reiterated.
Shayla took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the hem of her sweater. As she dragged it up her body, Vance stepped back and watched her every move. It turned her on, made her feel bolder. Her stomach clenched, and her nipples hardened to stiff peaks as Shayla became acutely aware of Vance’s gaze on her. When she removed the soft cashmere and placed it over the back of a nearby chair, she heard Vance let loose a low growl.
“Fuck, you’re pretty as a picture.”
A sense of pride took hold at Vance’s roughly spoken words. She removed her white, satin bra next. Her pussy throbbed as she noticed the way Vance kept his hands balled into fists at his side, as if he had to work extra hard to keep from reaching for her. Shayla slid her hands up and cupped her breasts in her palms, then squeezed. God, she wanted Vance’s hands on her, his mouth suckling her. She looked down the length of his body and noticed the bulge in his jeans had grown bigger. Her mouth watered for a taste of him. She ached to run her tongue up and down his shaft. Her mouth all but craved the taste of his precome.
When she plucked the hard tips with her fingertips, Vance groaned. “You’re killing me here. Strip, honey, show me the rest before I die.”
Shayla had no intention of denying him. Within seconds, she stood before her soon-to-be lover totally nude. She trembled when Vance descended on her.
Chapter Eight
“All I want is you,” Vance murmured as he pressed his mouth to hers. He pried her lips open with his tongue, too eager to wait a minute longer to taste her sweet flavor. He needed her, ached for her like no other. She opened willingly, her body pliant under his seeking hands. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck, and his strong hands clutched on to her waist. He lifted her easily, cradling her against his chest while his tongue dueled with hers, sucking and savoring her sweetness. He pulled back long enough to ask, “Where’s your bedroom?”