Thwarting Cupid (10 page)

Carissa didn't hand James the towels like he’d expected. Instead, she wiped him up herself. Quincy frowned and stopped the flow. He hadn't seen that coming. He studied her expression. Something was amiss. Her cheeks were all pink and she was biting her lip. She kept her eyes glued to his chest while her hand smoothed over the contours of his pectorals and down over his taut belly then back up again. Since the juice had stopped flowing, her touch had turned into more of a caress.

“Cara?” James's voice sounded all husky, the way women seemed to like. He caught her hand and stood up. Their gazes locked and held. With the juice-soaked crotch, it wasn't difficult to see the effect Carissa's cleaning had had on the man. She leaned forward the tiniest bit. So did James. Crap. They were going to kiss. Quincy couldn't have that.

He looked around for a distraction. Any distraction. Ah, there. He pointed toward the cellphone on the table. He didn't recognize it so he figured it was James’s. The little gadget chirped to life. For the first couple of rings, neither Carissa nor the man appeared to hear it. With a frown, Quincy jerked his thumb up. The ringer volume increased.

“Your phone,” Carissa said and stepped back with a quick shake of her head. Finally. The girl was coming to her senses. She picked up the phone with her free hand and handed it to James.

Quincy wanted to breathe a sigh of relief now that the moment had been broken, but judging from the way the man kept holding her hand, it wouldn't take much for them to pick up where they'd left off. He needed to get the guy out of there.

In the time it took for James to press the talk button and raise it to his ear, Quincy closed his eyes and did a search of the man's life for the past few weeks. Perfect. He put the one person on the other end that would put a stop to this nonsense at once.

“Hutchington.”

“Oh thank God you answered! Something's wrong with the mailing.” Deborah's voice was laced with panic.

James frowned, but never let go of Carissa's hand. “What's wrong with it?”

“We've got crates of it being delivered back to us. There were several sitting outside the door when I got here.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“I know. We must have stuffed the donors' return envelopes instead of the regular ones. About a fourth of the mailing has already come back.”

“Sit tight, Deb. I'll be right there.” James hung up the phone and looked at Carissa. “I have to get to the office. There's a problem with the mailing.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If we screwed this up...”

Carissa dropped the towel on the table and placed her hands on his cheeks. “So what if you did? Go. Figure out the problem and fix it.”

He smiled at her and nodded. He looked like he still wanted to kiss her, but their relationship had reverted back to a place where kissing was inappropriate. Quincy sighed his relief. He gave James a mocking salute when the man rushed past him out the door. Great. Now he'd have Carissa all to himself again.

Chapter 10

Carissa took a calming breath. She studied their interrupted breakfast on the table and propped her hands on her hips. Hutch was such a sweetheart to do all this for her. It was too bad he had to leave in such a hurry. Everything looked so delicious. She picked up a biscuit and stuffed it with the sausage and eggs. Carissa took a huge bite and picked up Hutch’s abandoned plate and carried it the sink.

She chowed down while clearing the dishes from the table so she could clean up the orange juice. She ripped several paper towels off the roll and knelt to mop up the spill. She frowned when she saw that chair and floor were both dry. She shrugged and stood to wipe it off the table, then paused, confused when she couldn’t find any there either. She shook it off. Maybe it had all landed on Hutch.

Carissa filled the sink with water and added the dishwashing liquid. While she waited for the water level to rise, her mind drifted to what had almost happened between her and Hutch.

He’d had been about to kiss her. And she would’ve kissed him right back. Her heart sped up at the mere thought. She smiled to herself and plunged her hands in the sudsy water. The next time the opportunity presented itself, she wasn’t going to hesitate. Assuming she had the courage to act.

Carissa frowned and washed the glasses. What if there was no next time? What if Hutch was kicking himself right now for even thinking about kissing her? Or worse. What if that hadn’t been his intention at all? What if she’d misread him? What a dope she was!

Carissa focused on the dishes to the exclusion of everything else. It was her attempt to keep her mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t. She must have succeeded in her mission because she almost jumped out of her skin when two strong arms slid around her waist. Soft, warm lips pressed against her neck.

“Hutch?” She froze.

“You expecting someone else? Should I be jealous?” He nibbled his way from one side of her neck to the other. She was so confused. When had he come back? And woah! He was doing a lot more than just kissing her. She’d finally noticed his hands had worked their way under the loose blouse she wore and were tracing patterns on her sides.

“What are you doing?” She tried to turn and face him, but he pressed his hips into her backside, trapping her against the sink.

“Just getting in a little quality time with my wife. Whoever invented play dates was a genius.” Carissa almost didn’t catch that last part because he’d started nibbling on her ear.

Wife? Play dates? Was she dreaming again? But no. She hadn’t been asleep. She swept her eyes around the kitchen. It wasn’t hers. And yet it was. The filmy yellow curtains were foreign. So was the view of the backyard. Yet it was familiar all the same.

Perhaps it was just a fantasy. She frowned down at the sink full of dishes she didn’t recognize. Her fantasizing skills needed some work.

Hutch’s hands came up to cup her breasts. Okay. So that was better. Carissa arched her back and reached for a towel to dry her hands.

“No, no. Keep washing,” he said, kissing her neck again. “It’s so unbelievably sexy seeing you like this. Taking care of us.” She glanced down at the stained blouse that happened to be missing a button or two. Sexy?

His hands left her breasts to tug one side of the fabric off her shoulder. He nipped at it. His other hand slid down her stomach. His fingers worked their way under the waistband of Carissa’s shorts and panties. The fact she could feel his slacks from just below her butt told her that the shorts couldn’t be all that substantial.

But then his fingers started caressing and she no longer cared about figuring out where she was.

“Maybe we should pretend we’re not home when the guy gets here with the new dishwasher tomorrow,” Hutch murmured against her skin. Keeping his fingers just above where she wanted them most, he eased his body away from her to press a trail of kisses down her back, sending small tremors through her body. He lifted the tail of the blouse and kissed the small of her back. She sucked in a breath and gripped the sink. She liked that. She like that a lot. She’d have agreed to almost anything at the moment.

“Keep washing, Cara,” She could feel him smile against the small of her back before he began an assault of kisses, licks and nibbles in that spot. Carissa trembled under the onslaught.

“I’m flattered you think I still can.” She tilted her hips, trying to force his fingers lower. He moved them with her so they stayed just above her lips. Her nipples poked at her bra, signaling that Hutch had their undivided attention. Her whole body felt on fire, which was a stark contrast to the dishwater that now felt pretty cool to the touch.

He stood with a chuckle. “You know the rules.” He tightened his free arm around her waist and placed his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t see any clean silverware, yet.”

“But I hate washing silverware.” There was nothing Carissa despised more than washing forks, spoons and knives.

“I know you do.” His voice deepened even more when he said, “But you like when I play with your pussy. So it all evens out.” His words, combined with his tone, made her shiver in anticipation.

With a trembling hand, she reached into the dishwater and pulled out a spoon and a fork to wash.

“She comes out swinging.” Before she could ask what that meant, his fingers plunged between her lips and located her clit with amazing accuracy. She sucked in a breath of surprise. His other hand pushed her bra up to pinch and roll her hard nipple with his fingers. Carissa’s body trembled. Her breathing got shallow. Her knees shook so hard that she had to lean against Hutch to remain on her feet.

“Somebody’s feeling horny.”

She rinsed the silverware and put it in the dish drainer. She wanted to concentrate on how good Hutch was making her feel. To concentrate on the sensations zinging though her body. Except, he withdrew his hand from her clit and returned his other hand to rest just below her breasts.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t stop.”

“You’re not washing anything.” Carissa groaned and shoved her hand back into the dishwater. This time she came up with a coffee mug. She started to drop it back in the water and find another fork and spoon, but decided that she wanted to see what the mug would lead to.

She wasn’t disappointed when Hutch reached inside the other cup of her bra to massage her breast. He never touched her nipple, but the movement caused it to rub against the lacy fabric for a little bonus.

Carissa worked her way through the sink full of dishes before she really noticed that he never let her orgasm. She even tried rewashing the forks to keep him focused on her clit, but he would only bring her to the edge. Never let her go over. Hutch kept her pressed again the sink, which prevented her hands from finishing the job.

“All done?” he asked and stroked the skin between her breasts.

“Not even close.” Pressed against her the way he was left no doubt that he was hot and bothered like she was. “Slight change of venue?” she suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Hutch eased away enough for her to turn around. With a wicked smile she grabbed his belt buckle and led him to the kitchen table.

“Here? Really?” he asked, looking very enthused about the idea.

She answered by unfastening his belt and the top button of his slacks before reaching inside to caress his dick. He was long and hard as she’d imagined.

He steadied himself on her shoulders and said, “I don’t know how much of that I can take, Cara.” When he got his balance, he covered her breasts with his hands and kneaded.

“I’m sure you’ll survive.” She slid his zipper down with her other hand to free him of the fabric.

“But if I don’t, what a way to go!”

Reveling in the fact that she’d turned the tables on him, Carissa turned a chair around and pushed him into it. He looked so naughty sitting there still wearing his shirt with his pants around his thighs and his dick standing at attention. She loved it.

She also loved the way his eyes went wide when she yanked the blouse off over her head without bothering with the buttons and stripped off her bra. She would almost swear that he drooled a little bit when she hooked her thumbs into the short shorts. She shoved her way out of them and her panties, causing him to swallow hard.

When she got close enough, he reached to trace the outline of her side and down her hip. He wrapped the other hand around the back of her thigh and squeezed. His fingertips were so close to her pussy.

“How did I luck out and get me such a hot wife?”

She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Maybe you were a good boy.” She swung her leg up and over him like she was mounting a stallion, then stood straddling him. His hands gripped at both her hips. “Now you get to be bad.”

While he steadied her, she reached for his dick again. She teased them both by running the swollen tip along her slit a couple times. Carissa could feel him trembling beneath her. Time to stop playing.

She tried to guide him to her waiting pussy, but somehow she must have let go of him. She reached for him again, but he wasn’t where she expected. She looked down to where they’d soon be joined, but couldn’t see past the shadows their bodies cast.

But those shadows seemed to get darker and darker. She looked up at Hutch. His face had been inches from hers just a moment ago. Now he was so far away she could barely see him.

“Hutch?”

But he kept getting farther and farther away. A voice whispered, “The fight’s just starting, Carissa.”

“What?” She blinked to clear away the darkness. The light returned. She looked around her kitchen. The yellow curtains were gone. The vertical blinds from her apartment were back. Had she fallen asleep? She sat up and realized that she was straddling one of the kitchen chairs just like in her dream…Oh crap!

Carissa looked down and was relieved to note that she was at least still dressed. How embarrassing would that have been if Hutch had come back and found her naked in the kitchen? It wasn’t like she could explain she’d been fantasizing about being married to him and had gotten a little carried away.

Carissa popped up from the chair and put it back where it belonged. She was losing her mind. She stalked to the refrigerator to get some water and noticed the dishes draining on the counter. At least they were clean.