Served Sweet Page 14

  “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Riley barked at him.

  Doing his best to remain the same annoying, lucky, winning asshole she’d been complaining about since he’d won the first game of the night, he glanced away from his cards and raised a brow at her in answer.

  “Oh. That look drives me nuts.”

  “Which is why I keep doing it.” He sighed. “Sadly, I almost want to cuddle you close and teach you how to play to win. But I like taking your money too much. Plus it’s amusing.”

  “It really is,” Maya agreed.

  The others teased and enjoyed themselves at her expense, and Riley’s frown deepened. Yet the way she bit her lip, as if trying not to laugh, told him she was enjoying herself. The little hypocrite liked competing with him, and they all knew it. But far be it for him to point out the truth.

  “Don’t be more of an ass than you have to,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Maya smirked. “What’s the matter, Riley? Too infatuated with Mr. Perfect to read him the real riot act? Please. Like we don’t know you two are bumping all over the place.”

  Anson paused in the act of tapping his cards on the table, and Riley nearly choked on the drink of water she’d taken.

  “I’m sorry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, what was that?”

  Ann snorted. “Oh give it up. We all know he’s got the hots for you, and you’ve been suspiciously busy with ‘other things’ whenever Maya and I try to get together with you. All that bitching about us leaving you for our men, and you’re ditching us for a piece of ass?”

  Dex howled with laughter. “Him? A piece of ass?”

  “A hot piece,” Anson quantified.

  Riley frowned. “I didn’t say I was doing him.”

  Dex snorted. “Classy, Riley.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Ann said. “He can’t stop looking at you.”

  Riley smirked at him until Maya added, “And you’ve been eye fucking him since we sat down.”

  Dex slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I’ve been trying, but there’s no stopping her when she’s on a roll.” He tugged his hand away and wiped it on his shirt. “Quit licking me. You know we keep that at home.”

  Maya gave an evil laugh.

  “The mouth that won’t quit,” Anson muttered, trying not to break down in his own laughter. He hadn’t had so much fun with his friends in a long time. Who knew having the girls in on the game would be so entertaining?

  He and Riley locked gazes, and the hard look in her eyes softened before she glanced at Maya. “No kidding. Her mouth never quits.”

  “Ha. And that.” Ann pointed at the two of them. “You’ve been agreeing on just about everything. So how long have you been shacking up, really? Since the kitchen, right? That wasn’t a one-time thing?”

  For his lover, he put on a confused face and said to Ann, “I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Are you accusing Riley and me of sleeping together? We can barely stand each other.” They sure the hell hadn’t been standing much last night when he’d taken her until she begged him for mercy. Ah, good times. He caught her eye and winked, pleased when she flushed and stared down at the crackers on her plate.

  “Yeah right. Sleeping together?” Dex snorted. “Bastard kept me up all last night.” He eyeballed Riley. “Had no idea you were such a screamer.”

  She turned to Anson with a frown. “I thought you said no one was home.”

  Maya and Ann slapped hands. “Go, slutty Riley!”

  Riley groaned. “Great, now everyone knows.”

  Anson cleared his throat to get her attention. “You’ll notice my friends aren’t high-fiving each other about my supposed sexual conquest. Your friends, however…”

  The gang laughed, even Riley, and since the truth had been outted, Anson felt no shame in getting up from his spot at the table, pulling Riley up into his arms, and kissing her until he nearly forgot himself.

  When he let her go, she dropped into her seat with a dopey grin on her face.

  He returned to his seat with satisfaction. “There. Now we can play.”

  Maya wiggled her brows. “Must run in the family, eh, Dex? All that kinky grabby stuff you Blacks like to get up to.” To Anson, she asked, “Do you have a thing about cameras too?”

  Dex, the poor bastard, blushed. “Maya, would you please just shut up and play?”

  They all continued to rib one another throughout the game. Riley, to Anson’s delight, gave as good as she got. Even better, they’d double-teamed to pick on the others. Not just a good night like when he won the majority of the pots, but a great night.

  With his friends and their girlfriends. And his…

  What the hell was Riley, anyway? And why did it suddenly matter?

  Chapter Twelve

  Days passed, and the same question remained on Riley’s mind. She wondered what to do about her situation with Anson now that everyone knew. She and Anson were…what? Treated like a couple by her friends and the guys. Even her employees at Riley’s Sweets considered them boyfriend and girlfriend. Yet Anson hadn’t said squat about their commitment to each other. They had unprotected sex and were supposed to be only with each other. But that didn’t account for the emotional connection she swore wasn’t all one-sided—on her side.

  The man gave her a headache. If only they could have fucked and let it go at that. But no. Anson had to give her little gifts, to stare into her eyes while they fucked and made love. They’d shared their pitiful knitting projects, and his hat looked as awful as her sweater. He held her hand, made her laugh, and continued to pester her about anything and everything.

  Tuesday evening as she walked into her house, she stopped cold at the sight that met her.

  Anson sat at her dining table drinking a beer in front of a table decked out with food and fancy dinnerware. Her best plates, glasses and silver sat amidst amazing smells, lit candles and a bouquet of fresh flowers. He winked at her and smiled.

  Damn him. “What the hell?”

  “What the hell, darling. That’s what you should call me after all the trouble I’ve gone to for you. Then again, we both know I’m partial to Sir and Mr. Big,” he teased. “So either of those will do.”

  She dropped her backpack and stared at him. “How…?”

  “Ann let me borrow her key since she knew I wanted to surprise you. Might want to talk to your friends about displaying so much trust.”

  “No kidding,” she growled, wishing he hadn’t been here tonight. She couldn’t wrap her mind around this odd relationship. They had sex—a lot of it. They spent time together in and out of bed. Ever since his open house, he’d come in each day to order something from her shop and talk. He’d come into the back while she worked and spent time with her.

  And even worse, she let him.

  Somehow the lines had blurred between them, and she had no idea what to do about it. If she even should. What moron put an end to multi-orgasmic sex with a man she could trust? For all that Anson could be a jerk sometimes, she’d never once heard anything about him being a cheater. Not that people would advertise it, but the few ladies in town he’d been with before her wanted him back. They’d been pretty clear about letting her know how wonderful he’d been.

  They’d come into her shop hoping for a peek at Anson, assuming she and Anson had a friendship and that she’d helpfully pass along how much they hoped to hear from him again. Not just Chatty—Claire—but Chrissy, Dorine, and even Gloria. She wanted to be angrier about him sleeping around, but from what she could tell, he’d only slept with two of them, and that had happened shortly after he’d returned to town. The others hadn’t gotten that far with him, but not from lack of trying.

  “He talks about you all the time,” Chrissy had said. “I think he’s got a business crush.”

  Riley knew it was more than that, but what more that might be she couldn’t say.

  Was scared to think about.

  She’d done the ridiculous and allowed her stupid childhood ri
valry to turn into the crush it had always been but that she’d never let herself admit. And now that crush had morphed into an antagonistic kind of love. One brought about by sex? Is that how you now fall for men, by climaxing from them?

  She hated that she couldn’t talk herself out of her feelings and glared at him over her table.

  His laughter faded as he stood. “I’m sorry if I intruded where I shouldn’t have. I only meant to do something nice.”

  “Oh! You and your nice,” she seethed, her hands on her hips. “That’s the problem.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  Annoyed and not sure what to do about it, she drew closer and poked him in his rock-hard chest. “You’re nice. You talk to me. We have amazing sex.” She groaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Riley?” He stepped closer, put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them.

  “See?” She didn’t push him away. Hell, she couldn’t. “You’re being nice when you’re not really a nice guy.”

  “I’m not nice,” he sneered. “I’m too good for that. Nice is for pussies. I’m simply being accommodating to you now so I can fuck you later.” He paused. “Better?”

  “I guess.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to handle you like this.”

  “Like what?” he asked and tilted her head up to kiss her.

  Instead of the panty-melting kiss she’d expected, he cupped her head with gentle hands and kissed her with care, then pulled back to stare at her as if she were more precious than gold.

  “You play dirty.”

  “What are you talking about?” He stroked her cheeks with his large, capable hands. Geez, was there anything Anson couldn’t do?

  “Do you ever fail at anything?” She thought back to poker night, the board game they’d played on Sunday, where he’d trounced her again. The many times he’d held out while she’d come first—not that she was complaining about that.

  A dark look passed over his face. “Not much. I can’t help it that I’m naturally skilled. Not to mention lucky.”

  “Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “Even your blob of a hat looks better than my disaster of a sweater.” Oddly enough, the thought he’d even be good at knitting charmed her when it should have annoyed her. “Oh Anson.” She yanked his head close and kissed him until all that gentleness vanished, and he was grinding into her.

  Finally, now I’m in the lead again. The thought made her smile against his mouth.

  He pulled back, breathing hard. “What?”

  “You just can’t help being you, can you?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you’re a natural born winner.” She let him tug her back to her chair and seat her before putting a plate of food in front of her.

  After he fixed himself a plate as well, he sat back and watched her dig in. “I had Francois make you something…since I know how much you seem to like him.”

  The hard edge of his words satisfied her to no end. She continued to eat.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said. “If I wasn’t so great at everything, if I didn’t tell you how successful I am, would you know I’m amazing?”

  Amazing. She’d scoff at the word if it weren’t true. “How would I know if I’m not hearing about it? I have a life not centered about you, you know.”

  “Exactly.”

  She swallowed down some of the finest steak she’d ever had, then put down her fork. “What are you saying, exactly?”

  “I’m saying I want you to know how I’m doing, so I tell you. I’m not bragging.”

  “Just being honest, eh?” She noticed his serious nod and again tamped down a grin. He was adorable carrying around that big head of his.

  “Yes. The truth, Riley, is I do well because I’m naturally good at things. It’s a curse.”

  She laughed, then seeing he wasn’t joking, frowned. “What?”

  “When I was little, my parents thought I had a learning disability.”

  Okay, change of subject. “Really?”

  He toyed with his food, his eyes on her. “I didn’t talk or walk when most kids do. Everything took me longer. I had a therapist who said I just needed to develop at my own pace. Even though I was so young, maybe three or four, I can clearly remember how devastated my parents were that I wasn’t better.”

  “That’s rough.” Good Lord. He could remember things from age four? She could barely remember what she’d eaten for dinner yesterday.

  “I was young. I didn’t get it then. I only knew I had to perform. So I did. I developed later than others, but I managed to catch up.”

  “And kept on going,” she said, wondering at the vulnerability in his dark green gaze. “That’s not something to be ashamed of, Anson. I mean, look at you now.”

  “But what if I’m not always good? What if I fail?” His low voice had her leaning closer to catch the subtle nuances she could see in his face. The lines of strain, the unhappiness in his eyes. “What then? Do you realize I’ve never had a business not work? That the few times I didn’t come in first, I came in second? At my worst, third?”

  “Are you serious?” God, she hadn’t realized what an astounding success he was. Sure, he said it all the time. But she’d ignored him as being a braggart. Now she’d come to actually believe him.

  “I’m smart and lucky.” He stared at her, his hungry gaze roaming her features. There was no other way to describe how he looked at her. “People seem to envy me, that or they think I must cheat to get where I am. You’d think that would keep most of them away. But too many of them don’t care how I got where I am today. They want to be surrounded by success, and that’s what I bring with me.”

  “You do,” she agreed. “Why does that bother you?”

  “Because failure is a natural part of life. It’s not normal to be good at everything.” He swallowed audibly, seeming nervous. Anson, nervous?

  Mesmerized, she remained silent, listening.

  In a quiet voice, he said, “There’s one thing I’m not good at, Riley.”

  “What’s that?”

  This was the moment. When he should man up and tell her the truth. What wasn’t he good at?

  He’d say, “You.”

  She’d stare and ask, “Come again?”

  Then he’d tell her. “You. I can’t seem to make you like me, not the way I want you to. I fucking love you, and I always have. But you don’t see me, the man who loves you, worships you, and wants a future with you. You think it’s all a game to be won. It’s not. It’s our tomorrow, here, now. Not a competition.”

  He’d say that, and instead of hugging and kissing him and eventually saying I do, she’d laugh and push him away, the way the others had back when he’d been naïve enough to think he might have a normal relationship with a woman.

  Back in his college days, when he’d thought he could do no wrong, he’d tried to have fulfilling relationships, only to be told he was too much. Too pushy, too driven, wanting too much from his girlfriends while not giving enough of himself.

  He’d failed, and he hadn’t been able to rationally deal with rejection. No, not rejection, the failure. The inability to succeed when he’d done everything right.

  So he’d backed away, not wanting to fall short at something he knew he couldn’t handle. Meaningless sex became a way of life for a while. Then casual dating, which gave him more of a connection but not too much of one, because then his girlfriends might realize he wasn’t as deep or as interesting as they’d once thought.

  He could make money and he could win races and competitions. But he didn’t have the right stuff to make a woman happy. Just his mother, who thought he could do no wrong. But she didn’t count. His father, Dex, his relatives, they all loved him without reservation, because they had to. Given the choice, he had a feeling many of them would rather not know the arrogant bastard calling himself family.

  Like Riley, who stared at him with what looked like concern. Yes, he could make her body sing. But her soul? Her heart? Did t
he woman feel anything more for him? He’d been so sure she looked at him with real feeling. But great sex could be confusing.

  And alluring.

  Despite not wanting to, he’d fallen hard for her. He’d been half in love with her for years, but the sex had nailed it. He knew without a doubt he loved her. But it scared the piss out of him to even think about admitting it unless she said it first. And the Riley he knew—and loved—would never in a million years admit to such a thing, because it would give him an advantage. He’d have the opportunity to reject her. As if he would.

  “Anson? What aren’t you good at?” she asked softly.

  He floundered for a minute until the answer came to him. “Knitting,” he blurted. “I’m not good at knitting.” And the lies kept coming.

  “You aren’t?” She should have been happier to hear that, but she didn’t seem too thrilled.

  “You’re probably going to win our bet.” Since he intended to let her.

  “Uh-huh.” She sounded distracted, yet she hadn’t taken her gaze off him since he’d started talking. “Speaking of bets… There’s something that’s been bothering me. You said you wanted to push our limits with sex. Well, you’ve been pushing mine for days. But I don’t think I’ve come close to pushing yours.”

  “Not true.”

  “Oh, I think it is.” She picked up her fork and pointed it at him. “Let me ask you something. What are we?”

  He blanked. “People?”

  “Funny, smartass.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You and me. We’re what? Fuck buddies? Dating? Boyfriend-girlfriend? What are we exactly, because I’m confused.”

  “We’re monogamous,” he said, scrambling.

  “I know I am.”

  “I am too.” He frowned. “I told you I would be.”

  She slumped into her chair. “I know. I trust you.”

  “Thanks for that, at least.”

  “I’m just confused. I like things to be spelled out, and with you, I don’t know where I stand. You never ratted me out to your cousin or Jack about having sex.”