Party of Three (Sunday Night Dinner Club #1 (4 page)

He dropped the water bottle and filled his hands with her hot, silky skin, grabbing her waist and hauling her closer even as he stepped forward, trapping her firmly between himself and the tree trunk.

Levi groaned into her mouth and kissed her harder, deeper. She responded wholeheartedly, taking everything he gave before chasing his tongue back into his mouth, and kissing him just as thoroughly.

If he had his way, he’d rip her tights off, lose his shorts and sheath himself inside her. Right here, up against the tree. But the vibrations of passing footsteps and snatches of conversation reminded him they were not alone. Not by a long shot. They were in the middle of a park, surrounded by people.

He ended the kiss reluctantly, keeping her pinned against the tree.

“Christ,” he gasped hoarsely. “You’ve got me so fucking turned on, I could take you right here in the middle of Centennial Park and not regret it for a second.”

She didn’t bother answering. Not with words anyway.

She tunneled her hand into his hair, massaging his scalp and steering his head so his mouth was aligned with hers once more. Her eyes smoldered, her lids lowered to half-mast and breath puffed from her mouth. Then she took his lips with hers and proceeded to blow his world clean away with her kiss.

Last night, Levi had told Spencer he really liked Chelsea. This morning, those words made a mockery of his true feelings. He didn’t just like the woman. He was already halfway in love with her.

And God knew, Levi had not loved a woman in a long time.

He nudged her thighs apart, making space for himself between her legs. Then he bent his knees slightly and repositioned his hips, sighing in relief as his cock came to rest in the V of her thighs.

The urge to thrust against her almost did his head in, and repressing that urge about killed him, but outside, in the open like this, he had no choice. If he gave in to his impulses, he’d be arrested for public indecency.

It was Chelsea who broke the kiss this time round. “If we weren’t standing in the middle of Centennial Park,” she whispered in his ear, “I’d insist you fuck me. Hard and fast and right here against the paperbark tree.”

“Chels.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re killing me.”

“You started it.”

With his eyes closed, her scent was even more alluring. Sweet and spicy and totally addictive. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the urge to grind against her—and was immediately rewarded by her muffled whimper and barely repressed shudder.

“Never would have needed to start this here if you’d agreed to marry me.”

“Can’t marry you, Levi.” She trailed her lips up to his ear and nibbled on his lobe—which instantly turned into an erogenous zone.

He tilted his head to the side to give her easier access. He moved his hands up her waist and rested his thumbs on her ribs. All he need do was brush them upwards and he’d caress the curves of those stunning breasts. “Give me a reason. One good reason and I’ll stop asking.”

A slow release of her breath tortured the side of his neck as she freed his ear and pulled back. Her shoulders seemed to sag against his chest.

Levi opened his eyes to find himself staring into hers. While he could still clearly see his desire reflected in those green pools, he saw something else too. Something he wasn’t altogether sure he liked.

She blinked several times but didn’t lower her gaze. “I don’t think you’re going to be happy with my reason.”

“If it keeps us apart, you’re probably right.”

“I want you to take me, Levi. I’ve wanted it a long time.” She licked her lips, and Levi found it almost impossible not to claim her tongue again. “For you to finally, finally fuck me.”

He muttered something unintelligible—mostly because intelligible speech failed him at that point.

“But…”

Shit, he hated that word. “But?”

“But you’re not the only one I’ve wanted for a long time.”

It took a good few seconds for her meaning to set in. It took a little longer for the raging heat in his groin to subside. And it took a minute or so more before his erection faded altogether. Levi dropped his hands and took a step back.

She shut her eyes briefly, and regret flitted across her face, as though she lamented the loss of physical contact.

“There’s someone else?”

Again with the licking her lips, making her kiss-stung mouth look even more appealing. “I’m not involved with anyone else. But there is a man I’m interested in. I’ve known him since I’ve known you. And I’ve wanted him for just as long.”

A million thoughts chased their way through Levi’s head.

I’ll kill the bastard.

Competition. Of course there’d be someone else.

Fuck.

She doesn’t want me.

She wouldn’t respond to me like that if she didn’t want me.

I can make her want me more than she wants him.

“You’re telling me this…why?” So he’d back off, or so he wouldn’t?

“Because I like him, Levi. A lot. As much as I like you. And I won’t lie to you and pretend differently. It’s only fair you know where I stand, especially…”

“Especially?”

“Especially because you know him.”

Levi’s gut churned.

“I’m seeing him tonight.”

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. He took another involuntary step back. “You’re seeing Spencer tonight.” He was helping her with her taxes.

Chelsea nodded once.

Fuck, no! No, no, no.

Not Spence. Not his best mate. Anyone else he could compete with. He could take them down with a mighty roar of alpha dominance. Anyone else he’d be happy to fight to the death.

But Spence? Hell.

This was a no brainer. Levi had to walk away. Shake Chelsea’s hand—a no-hard-feelings gesture—and walk away.

There was zero chance he’d compete with his best mate for the affections of a woman. That would fuck up everything. Their friendship, their interactions with Chelsea and any chance the Sunday Night Dinner Club ever had of returning to her restaurant.

Yep, no question about it. Whatever was brewing between Chelsea and himself had to end. Right here. Right now.

Problem was, understanding this on a rational level didn’t neutralize the fire still burning in his veins, and it didn’t make him want Chelsea any less.

“I can’t lie about this, Levi. I’m…seriously attracted to you. I have been since the moment you walked into my restaurant. But I’m equally attracted to Spencer, and when he offered to come over tonight…I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to. Just like I didn’t want to say no to you for this morning.”

“He’s my best mate.” Levi shoved his hand through his hair.

“I know.”

“We go way back.”

“I know that too.”

“Christ.” Who the fuck even knew if Spence was interested? Yeah, sure, he’d mentioned her several times, commented on how stunning he thought she was, but for all Levi knew, Spence might be meeting Chelsea tonight with the intent of doing her taxes, nothing more.

Somehow, Levi doubted it. If that was the case, Spence would have made the meeting at his office, during office hours.

His friend wasn’t the kind to shoot his mouth off about a woman he was interested in. Nope, Spence generally waited until he was involved before speaking to Levi about her. And when Spencer got involved with a woman, he gave her everything. His attention, his time, his heart and his soul. Spencer wasn’t one for doing things in half measures. If he had his eye on Chelsea, he’d give it everything he had.

Why hadn’t Levi thought about this last night? He’d been so chuffed Chelsea had said yes, he’d forgotten all about the Spencer-tax thing.

Jesus, what a clusterfuck.

“I have to walk away,” he told Chelsea.

Her face fell. “I…I understand.”

“I can’t do this to him.”

She nodded, but her skin lost its radiance. Her pupils were once again tiny pinpricks, almost hidden in green depths.

Levi held out his hand. He’d get the no-hard-feelings handshake over and done with and head back to his car.

What he didn’t count on was the electric charge that blasted up his arm the second Chelsea took his hand, or the renewed surge of blood to his groin on contact. Brutally aware of every last one of his good intentions, Levi clasped her hand in his, used it to tug her hard toward him and reclaimed her mouth the instant he had her back in his arms.

Delicious aromas filled the restaurant kitchen, making Spencer pause from his work to look up from his seat at one of the workbenches.

Chelsea stood at an open, industrial-sized oven, prodding at the contents of a roasting pan with a long fork. She was dressed casually in jeans and a tight T-shirt. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she looked like a million dollars.

The woman could wear a hessian sack, and she’d look like a million dollars.

“Smells good.” He sniffed the air appreciatively.

“Of course it smells good. It’s my legendary roast lamb, made with a concoction of rosemary, mint and seven spices.”

“I’ve never seen roast lamb on your menu.”

“That’s why it’s legendary.” She laughed and closed the oven, setting the fork down. “I’ve only ever spoken about making this dish. I’ve never actually cooked it.”

His mouth watered, partly because he was starving and the appetizing scent teased his empty stomach, and partly because Chelsea always made his mouth water. “Can’t wait to taste.” Both the lamb and the woman. He had every intention of trying both before the end of the evening.

Something in his tone must have alerted her to his intentions, because she slowly turned to look at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. “I can’t wait for you to taste either. We, um…” She cleared her throat. “We’ve got another ten or twenty minutes before it’s cooked to perfection.”

“Perfect. I’m about done.” Or only just beginning, depending on which goal he was working on.

She nodded at the benchtop, the laptops and the big plastic box that held all her receipts and paperwork. “How do the taxes look?”

“Truth be told? They were a little more complicated than I figured.”

Concern instantly lined her beautiful face. “Is there a problem with the books?”

“The books are in great shape. The problem lies with me.” Or his ability to concentrate, to be exact.

“How so?”

“You ever try filling in forms when a beautiful woman distracts your every attempt?”

She closed one eye and wrinkled up her nose as though deep in thought. “I can’t say I have. No.”

“Trust me, if you had, you’d have screwed up the paperwork too.” Never mind the temperatures radiating from the oven, heat fairly sizzled between them. It had ever since she’d let him in to the deserted restaurant.

“You’ve screwed up my tax forms?”

“Come see for yourself.” He pushed his stool back, making space for Chelsea to squeeze between him and the computer.

She walked right over and stared at the screen. Then she frowned. “Uh, I wouldn’t know how to tell if you were messing them up or not.”

“I’m not.” It went against the fiber of Spencer’s being to screw up anything he worked on.

“Then why did you say you were?”

“Quickest way to achieve my aim.”

“Which is…?”

“This.” He tugged her hips.

She lost her balance and fell right into his arms.

“Spencer!”

He settled her on his lap. “There we go. That’s much better.”

“There’s not very much room on this stool.”

“Then you better snuggle in close.”

She did, and Spencer’s entire body tightened in response.

“So you didn’t screw up my taxes?”

“Never. Your books are in great shape. All I had to do was download the tax forms and fill them in accordingly.”

“I was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“Bookkeeping geniuses are incredibly sexy.”

“Well, shit.” Spencer huffed out a breath. “You’re into your bookkeeper. I don’t stand a chance.”

“My bookkeeper resigned. Remember?”

“Sucks for you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She was good, but she was never a genius.”

“Was she sexy?”

“Maybe. I never noticed.”

“Did you ever kiss her?”

“Not that I remember.”

“Do you think you’d remember a kiss with a sexy, genius bookkeeper?”

“Depends on the kiss, I suppose. It would have to be worth remembering.”

Spencer sighed hugely.

“What’s the matter?”

“I kind of wish I was a bookkeeper. I’d give you a kiss worth remembering.”

“Let’s see. You’re sexy, you’re a genius and you’re an accountant, so bookkeeping is a natural part of who you are. I think you’re probably qualified to attempt the memorable-kiss thing.”

“Probably or definitely?”

“Definitely.”

Spencer pointed to his mouth. “Then how about you put your lips here and see how memorable we can make it.”

“I think it would be way more memorable if you made the first move.”

“All right,” he agreed. “I’ll make the first move and then you put your lips on mine.”

“I think you misunder—Spencer!”

“Just making the first move, as per your request.”

She laughed as he twisted her around on his lap to face him with hers legs straddling his. She placed her hands on his shoulders for balance, stopped laughing and gasped as he rocked his hips, pushing himself intimately against her.

“Oh, God.” Chelsea gasped. “There it is again. That adrenaline shot straight to the heart.”

“That, sweetheart, is not your heart.” To prove his point, he rocked once more, dragging his rock-hard erection over the seam of her jeans, right where her pussy was. And damned if it didn’t make him even harder.

Chelsea’s eyes closed, her cheeks flushed, and Spencer thought he’d never seen anything as beautiful in his life.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

“Hmmm?”

“It’s your move.” He rocked again, partly because he couldn’t help himself and partly to see her response.

The flush spread from her cheeks to her neck. It was all he could do not to lean in and nuzzle the spot where her jaw met her neck, but he needed his mouth free.