Served Sweet Read online

  “You’ll see.”

  He drove with competence despite the road conditions. Heck, Anson did everything well. Her mind flashed back to their quickie in the bedroom. Even without foreplay he’d rocked her world. What to think about that?

  “Relax, Riley. Why don’t you unwind? Enjoy a nice dinner with an amazing man—” she snorted “—and not worry about dishes or cleanup. I’ll even throw in a foot rub. I know how it feels to be on your feet all day.”

  A foot rub. Hmm. “Why are you being so nice to me? It’s for the sex, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Of course it’s for the sex. Well, that and I still owe you.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “That’s true. You do owe me. But we could call it even if you take me home so I can get a bath, then dinner. That sounds good to me tonight.”

  “Tired, baby?”

  She tingled inside. Anson had called her baby while having sex. She cleared her throat. “A bit, yes.”

  “I know just how to make everything better. Trust me.”

  “Oh hell. I kind of have to since you kidnapped me.”

  “Exactly. Now shut up and relax.”

  She was still chuckling a few minutes later as they pulled into his drive. “So Dex is okay with me invading his manly space?”

  “Dex is out with Maya and won’t be back until Monday.”

  “Oh right. They went to Portland for the weekend.” She’d forgotten. So it would be just her and Anson. Alone. Her slutty self howled with delight.

  She followed him inside the house. She’d visited once before with Maya to collect Dex for a party, but it hadn’t looked like this. Then there had been a fine layer of dust over everything, unpacked boxes stacked in a corner, and scattered piles of newspaper, magazines and books.

  Now, the place looked spotless. No more dust. No boxes, and everything had its place. “New furniture?”

  He put a hand on the small of her back to ease her into the kitchen. And wow, she felt his touch all the way to her toes.

  “Yes. That crap Dex calls furniture is in storage. Foam cushions, cheap fabric, and low grade wood should in no way be called a couch. And don’t get me started on the IKEA tables that used to be in here.”

  “I like IKEA.”

  “I do too, but let’s face it, the furniture isn’t high quality.”

  “You’re such a snot.” She turned to see him grinning behind her.

  “About some things I am. I only want the best.” His onceover seared her. “Now, how about I feed you?”

  She noted a teak dining table that had a modern feel to it on the other side of the kitchen. “Nice.” She inhaled and smelled… “Oh wow. Is that Polvino’s pizza?”

  “Like I said. Only the best.”

  She sat and stared at the cardboard box in the center of the table, bewitched by the scent of hot cheese and garlic. “I thought you said you’d made it.”

  “I did. I’m putting it on a plate. Putting it together counts.”

  She laughed with him while he put the slices on their plates. Then he added a nice Chianti to the wine glasses he fetched from the kitchen. He lit two candles and dimmed the overhead lights. Smooth jazz filtered through discreetly placed overhead speakers.

  She bit into a large slice of pizza and moaned. “Oh wow. You’re good. I mean, Polvino’s pizza and wine.” She sighed. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

  His pleased grin touched her deep inside. It wasn’t often she saw Anson sincerely joyful. No sneer, no sarcasm or serious face. It lightened him, somehow, that grin.

  “I know I’m good when you’re sighing and thanking me.” He wiggled his brows, and she laughed again. “Eat and fall deeper under my spell.”

  “Whatever.” Two slices later, she felt pleasantly stuffed. Considering Polvino’s made each slice the size of two regular pieces, she felt as if she’d nearly devoured a whole pizza.

  “And there are leftovers. The perfect dinner.” Anson continued to eat.

  “Where do you put it all?” She noted nothing but muscle and good looks on the man. “Your fat head?”

  He choked on a slice.

  “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” She laughed and drank more wine, feeling mellow.

  “Soon as I finish this piece I’ll get started on that foot rub.”

  “You’re really hoping to get lucky tonight, aren’t you?” Damn him, but he’d started her motor running the minute she’d looked into his deep green eyes.

  “No hoping about it. It’s a done deal.” He leered at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Anson.”

  “I’m not sure what exactly you’re getting at, Riley. I feel lucky you had dinner with me. That’s all I was implying by ‘done deal’, Ms. Sex On The Brain.”

  She would have felt more embarrassed if he hadn’t been staring at her breasts. Since she was dying to have sex with him again, she didn’t mind at all. Before Anson, she’d been perfectly happy to go without. Then he’d unlocked her libido. Now she couldn’t go two seconds without thinking about him and his deviously talented mouth. And those hands. And that cock…

  Glancing back at her wine, she lifted the glass and drained it.

  “More?”

  “I think I’m good.” She stretched, noting his rapt attention though pretending she hadn’t. “You know, what I’d actually like is a—”

  “Bath. You mentioned that already. Good thing my bathroom is clean. I wouldn’t go near Dex’s though.” He gave a shudder. “For a Marine, he’s kind of a slob.”

  She pushed back from the table. “You want me to get naked in your house?” She felt aroused just thinking about it. Apparently he did too, because when he rose from the table, he sported a hard-on she couldn’t miss.

  “Riley, I live for the idea of you getting naked, anywhere, anytime.” At her scoff, he held up his hands in surrender. “What? At least I’m honest.”

  She chuckled. “As if that makes it okay.” Yet it did, in a weird way.

  “Really. There’s nothing on you I haven’t already seen. Touched. Tasted.” He drew her to her feet and planted a smooth kiss on her lips. So soft, so deep.

  She sighed and opened her mouth when he penetrated with his tongue.

  The bastard pulled back and gave her a last chaste kiss. “Let’s get you that bath.”

  Not to be outdone, she cupped him, gripping that steely length between his legs, and he groaned. “You sure about getting me a bath?” she teased and pumped him. “You seem like you could use some relief first.”

  “Fuck. Riley, the bath,” he growled and drew her hand away. He practically ran with her up the stairs and dragged her down the hall, away from Dex’s bedroom, toward the far end. Then entered what clearly had to be the master bedroom. “Stay here.”

  “I’m not a dog.”

  He left her for the attached bathroom and started the bath water. She swore she heard him laugh before saying something about a leash and collar. With a sensual shiver, she allowed herself the curiosity of looking around while she waited.

  A khaki paint colored the walls of his bedroom. Over the hardwood floors a thickly weaved area rug done in navy blue and brown sat under the king size bed. To the side he had a desk and chair. A large flat screen had been mounted to the wall where a mirror might have been over his large dresser. Like the furniture downstairs, the set in here had a lighter color and more modern feel. Anson definitely favored class and polish, but with an artsy touch. Nothing about him screamed traditional, unless you considered the way he financially lived his life.

  The man had spent years lecturing her on the merits of being fiscally conservative. And that was back in high school! Though she’d never really thought of him as much of a risk taker, he had to be to start up businesses over and over with the hope they’d do well.

  She had a feeling he could afford a house much more expensive than this one, though the place had to be worth at least half a million, if not more. She poked through his closet, noting the color coordinated sep
arates, the way his shoes lined up tip to toe, the way he’d hung all his ties, again color coded.

  His neatness made him a bit nerdy. And cute. Though when she turned to see him watching her, wearing an annoyed look on his face, cute seemed to be the last word to describe him. Sexy, arousing, mean, maybe.

  “You done, or would you like to check my drawers too?” He nodded to his dressers and nightstands.

  “Well, since you’re offering…” She took a step toward the slender dresser in the corner and laughed when he grabbed her by the shirt and dragged her into the bathroom.

  When he started undressing her, she tried to push him away. But he wouldn’t be budged.

  “Anson.”

  “Riley.” He continued to take off her clothes. When he moved to her bra, she slapped his hands.

  “I’ve got the rest.”

  “Honey, you’re my guest. I wouldn’t be a good host if I let you fend for yourself.”

  She choked on a laugh when he stepped closer and kissed her.

  The passion they shared made her lightheaded. Anson never gave anything but his all when he kissed her. Even the lighter touches seemed to reach straight for her heart and pulled emotion where there should only have been lust.

  “Sweet, it’s time for you to get clean.”

  “Really?” She ran her hands through his hair. “Because I’m feeling dirty.”

  “Hell.” He deliberately reached between them to readjust himself. Then he slid her panties down her legs and unfastened her bra. The set fell to the floor, and he just stood there, staring at her.

  “Anson.” She should have been cold, but the heat from the bathwater and the way he looked at her had her feeling overly warm.

  “Look, I’m just going to say it. I’ve seen a lot of women naked.”

  She couldn’t wait to see where he took this conversation.

  “And you are, by far, the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  What made his confession so impactful was the fact he kept his gaze on her face while he said it.

  “Er, well, thanks.”

  “I’m not kidding. It’s not a line.” He dragged her close, and she felt his clothes against her naked frame, further highlighting the differences in their builds—and his dominance. She felt tiny and vulnerable next to him, naked while he remained fully clothed.

  “You have to let me go so I can get in.” She looked at the tub behind her, only now realizing she’d been smelling her favorite scent from the bubble bath. “Is that lavender?”

  “Yep.” He seemed proud of himself. Anson stroked her back, then her front, cupping her breasts and toying with her nipples until she had a hard time standing still.

  “But you…” She bit her lip when he leaned down to suck a nipple into his mouth. “Anson.” So hard to think when she could do nothing but feel.

  He slowly let her go, flicking the nub with his tongue. Then he straightened and turned her toward the bath. “Sorry. You’re hard to resist.” He helped her in, watching like a hawk as she sank into the bubbles and sighed. “I pay attention. When I was in your bathroom the other day, I noticed what you like.”

  “Oh. Sure.” She blinked up at him and saw an odd, tender look on his face.

  As soon as he noticed her watching him it disappeared. “You get half an hour. Then I’m coming back. Oh, wait. One more thing.” He disappeared and reappeared moments later with a full glass of wine for her. He also lit a few candles and put them around the bathroom for ambient lighting.

  It was an incredibly thoughtful, romantic gesture. One she would have thought beyond Anson.

  “Anson, this is so…” She felt herself softening for him, those walls she’d held to control every aspect of her life slowly falling while she watched him try to regroup.

  Then her controlling, obnoxious lover returned. “Perfect. I’m getting you all wet…for later. For me. I demand the best, you know.” He winked and left.

  Yet that vulnerability he hadn’t wanted her to see had been there. What did she think about that? And why did that make her want him that much more?

  Anson must have lost his mind. Running a bath for the woman? Feeding her and getting her loopy on wine so she’d relax and stop working herself so hard? What was wrong with him? This should have been about dipping his wick in the hottest woman he’d ever had, not trying to take care of her. Riley was a big girl. She could handle herself.

  So why did it feel so good to see her smile, to watch her satisfaction as she relaxed into that bath? She’d seemed so pretty, so small and frail covered in bubbles. Almost like a little girl…though there was nothing girlish about the sexy woman he wanted with his next breath.

  Fuck. Typical Riley Hewitt, confusing him, arousing him, disturbing him.

  So what if he’d noticed everything about her? He’d bought that stupid—albeit expensive—bubble bath to impress her. The candles too. All part of the seduction, he tried to tell himself. So he could get off, not just so she’d feel comfortable.

  “I am such a liar,” he muttered while he double-checked his room. He’d hidden his stupid knitting project away, not wanting her to see what he’d been working so hard on.

  He felt good about the house though. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me,” he called out.

  “Okay,” she yelled back.

  Hell. Even her voice turned him on. Not soft or girly. Riley had a husky drawl, a thick, throaty way of bossing her employees, laughing with friends, and hurling insults his way. A voice that came from the lips and throat of a dark-skinned temptress who made him hard by simply breathing.

  Annoyed with his loss of control, he stomped out of his room, down the hallway and back downstairs. After cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the leftover food and wine, he considered how much better the place looked since he’d taken charge.

  Left to Dex’s disgusting habits, dust and disorder had reigned for about a month. While Anson had been going back and forth from Portland and focused on the new restaurant, he’d left Dex in charge of the house. Thus the mess and clutter he’d spent a good three days clearing up.

  Anson had purchased the house as a temporary spot for him and Dex to settle back into town. Anson liked the location close to Drake Park and the downtown area, and he’d particularly liked the kitchen, knowing how much Riley would love it. It had stainless steel appliances, a brand new Viking range and plenty of counter space for food prep. Riley hadn’t said much about it, but he’d seen her covetous glances at the oven during dinner.

  He wondered what she thought of it, then pondered why he needed her approval. Which was just silly. Why should he care if the woman loved or hated the place? Yet he did.

  Frustrated because she kept confusing him just when he’d thought he had their relationship figured out, he cleaned the counters until they shined, all while trying to understand his feelings.

  He privately admitted he’d always had a pseudo crush on her. The woman constantly challenged him. She never bored him, and honestly, she was hot. Smokin’ hot, Playboy bunny, lose-your-mind sexy. But the attraction didn’t explain why he looked forward to spending time with her outside of bed as well.

  Moving back home had put him closer to family, which he’d wanted. It allowed him to prove himself a success in the town he’d grown up in—a prideful endeavor he admitted to having. But why? Why did it have to be Bend, Oregon when he had friends and other family still in Portland? When he had a slew of profitable enterprises all across the Northwest, from Seattle to Salem to Boise?

  True, he constantly needed to reinvent himself. To conquer obstacles and keep his mind busy. But… Some soul searching compelled him to consider Riley at the heart of his decision. For so long he’d felt empty. Sexual conquests didn’t move him. Making a million on a coffee chain, having invested solely on a whim, had been fun before he’d realized luck had mostly been responsible for his success. Learning new things, skiing faster, running longer, biking harder, none of it filled that emptines
s inside him.

  Until he’d come back to his hometown and kissed the one girl who’d always refused him. What should have been simple closure for them both had opened up a shit storm of intensity and feelings and dreams he hadn’t realized he’d held for the coffee-skinned spitfire.

  When he saw rich brown or green he thought of Riley’s eyes. When he’d smelled lavender he imagined Riley covered in scented oil. Eating anything sweet automatically turned his thoughts to her amazing confections, and he’d mentally compared whatever he ate to what she could bake.

  He had to admit it to himself, if no one else. He had it bad for the stubborn female basking in the warm bath upstairs. Hell, recalling how she’d looked when he’d stripped her naked should have trumped what he felt seeing the beaming smile she’d given him just for lighting a few stupid candles. It didn’t.

  Yet he’d do it all over again to make her happy.

  It took him a moment to realize he didn’t feel empty. Not now. Riley had somehow filled the void inside him, and that worried him more. Relying on Riley to complete him was pure nonsense, not to mention Hallmark drivel.

  Wasn’t it?

  He heard the bathwater rush through the pipes upstairs. She must have pulled the plug.

  She yelled, “I’m done.”

  Time to face her again, but first he had to get his head on straight. Whatever this was with her, it needed to be kept simple. Anson processed stress and managed obstacles by focusing on one hurdle at a time.

  Right now, he had to get a naked Riley out of the tub and into his bed without a fuss. Wouldn’t be easy, but so totally worth it. He walked up the stairs, determined to make the rest of her night as enjoyable as the beginning had been. After all, he owed her a few orgasms. After that, he had no idea how to deal with her.

  So he’d focus on what mattered right now—coming deep inside his sweet lover and making sure he pleasured her so well she begged him for more. Then he’d figure out what came next.

  At the thought of what came next, he chuckled. Poor choice of phrase.