Checking It Twice

chapter Three


Nick clicked the tabs shut on his presentation case before picking up the copy of Metro Cuisine he’d brought with him from Chicago. He flicked the pages to the feature on the Dockside restaurant. He’d read the damn article so many times it’d been unnecessary to mark the section—the magazine fell open to it automatically. His focus lowered to the trio of small pictures at the bottom of the glossy page and locked on the image of Kevin. It wasn’t a clear shot of him, and he was half blocked by a waitress holding an enormous platter of St. Louis-style short ribs. But the brief glimpse managed to fill Nick with the same mix of hope and regret he’d experienced six weeks ago, when he’d first spotted the picture.

It was an odd twist of fate that he’d even come across the article. If not for boredom and a layover in Cincinnati, he’d be clueless of his former best friend’s whereabouts and would no doubt be contemplating for the thousandth time whether he should hire a private investigator to track Kev down. There’d been several motivating factors that’d prevented him from giving in to the urge, but stubbornness had been the most paramount. For the last five years he’d convinced himself that if Kevin didn’t feel the need to stay in touch, Nick damn well didn’t either. That of course had been a crock of shit. No one understood him like Kev, and it hurt like a motherf*cker that Kevin had walked away from their friendship. He knew why Kev did it, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Dropping the magazine on top of his case, he reached for his navy blazer and shrugged it on. Grogginess weighed at him, an undesired side effect from the nap he’d forced himself to take shortly after checking in to his hotel room. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered, but after a month of nonstop travel, the jet lag was taking its toll. The good news was his latest pet project was proving to be a big hit with the vendors he’d pitched the Bodylicious line to, but the bad news was he’d been living out of a suitcase for the better part of the past eight months.

He was f*cking exhausted. And lonelier than shit.

His attention returned to the magazine. Kevin was the biggest factor behind his impetuous decision to make the trip to Michigan. Not the only one, certainly, but finding a way to repair things between him and Kev was priority number one. This might be his only shot at getting his best friend back. He wasn’t going to blow it. No f*cking way.

He strode to the nightstand situated near the bed and freed the phone from its cradle. After dialing the valet to have his car brought around, he slipped his hotel keycard into his wallet and threw on his wool peacoat before snatching his presentation case. Less than five minutes later, he rode the elevator down to the lobby and spied his rental waiting outside the entrance.

“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Pappas.”

Offering a distracted nod, Nick passed a tip to the valet and stowed his case on the backseat before settling behind the wheel. He probably should have flown in a day early so he could see Kev before diving into business. Fear of having a door slammed in his face had stalled that idea dead in the water. Granted, there was still a strong chance of getting that slamming door, but this way he had something to look forward to after his meetings.

Chuffing a humorless laugh that did little to dispel his uncertainty, he punched the address for Wicked Delights into the GPS. The directions loaded and a rather bossy female popped on, demanding he turn right. Shifting the Audi into gear, he swung out of the Townsend’s service drive.

An electrical zing zipped along his spine as he headed toward the expressway and Jana’s shop. Kevin wasn’t the only reason he’d endured the extra dose of jet lag in order to come to Michigan. Jana had assumed the starring role in his X-rated musings for the past year, and she dominated a good portion of his thoughts. It didn’t matter that he had no damn clue what she looked like. From the start, there’d been something about her that’d intrigued him. For one thing, she had the sweetest, sexiest voice. She’d make one hell of a living as a phone-sex operator because merely listening to her made his cock stand at attention. It’d gotten so bad lately he’d been forced to take matters into his own hand—literally—after the majority of their phone conversations. He’d lost count of how many times he’d ended up stroking his cock while imagining the lips attached to that alluring voice bobbing up and down his length, sucking him deep into her throat. Unbeknownst to her, Jana had contributed to some of the best damn blowjobs of his life. The realization prodded a grunt from him. Now if only he could convince her to try out the real thing.

Judging from the flirtatious nature of their conversations, there was a better than decent chance that their attraction was mutual. Hell, attraction was a mild word, in his case. He was half convinced he was in love with Jana. Insane? F*ck yeah. How else did you describe falling for a woman he’d never met live in the flesh? Then again, he’d never met a woman who stimulated and engaged him the way Jana did. If they had this much of a connection just through their phone and email interactions, how off the charts might their chemistry be face-to-face? That was precisely what he aimed to find out.

The GPS announced he was less than half a mile from his destination. Not wanting to overshoot his last turn, he slowed and scanned the addresses on the right side of the road. Up ahead, he spied a small strip mall. Figuring it must be the spot, he clicked his blinker on and pulled into the lot. Sure enough, Wicked Delights occupied the end building. He parked next to a vintage black Mustang, and after fetching his case, made his way to the front entrance of the shop.

Eager anticipation firing his blood, he elbowed the door open and stepped inside the spacious store. The sound of Woody Woodpecker’s famous laugh briefly interrupted the bouncy rock music floating through the central speakers. He jerked to a halt, frowning. Woody Woodpecker? His gaze trekked to the chime box situated overhead. Running his fingers behind the edge of the handle, he tugged the door open. The obnoxious laugh pealed out again. He chuckled, his infatuation with Jana increasing tenfold. Any woman who used Woody Woodpecker as her doorbell obviously was an intriguing female indeed.

Releasing the door, he surveyed the nearby racks of lingerie. He’d always been a sucker for the stuff. Silk, lace, leather. Didn’t matter. It was all better than fine by him. He especially loved the delicious exploration involved with removing all that sexy frippery from a woman’s body.

A familiar surge of liquid lust spiraled through him as he recalled the numerous occasions he’d taken his time with that delightful task while under Kevin’s heated stare. Their predilections had been perfectly matched. He lived to perform, and Kev loved to watch. But Kev had also needed to be lured into joining the action. Distancing himself from physical contact and intimacy had been Kev’s security blanket. God knows it probably still was.

Anger flashed through Nick. Not at Kevin, but the circumstances that’d led to Kev’s need to lock himself away from people. It’d been one of the key reasons Nick decided to bite the bullet and seek out Kevin. He needed to verify firsthand that his best friend hadn’t burrowed too deep in his self-inflicted solitude. After the disaster with Heather, it’d be just like Kev to retreat from the world around him, his personal demons his only true companion.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

The unexpected apology behind him made him jump slightly. Embarrassed by the gesture, he swore beneath his breath. Despite his chagrin, a prickle of pleasured awareness hopscotched along his spine.

That voice. It was a million times more alluring in person. A powerful kick of lust nailing him square in the groin, he sucked in a steadying breath and pivoted. He was instantly thankful for the lungful of oxygen he’d taken because one glimpse of Jana Colton managed to rob him of air. And the function of speech, apparently.

She was the epitome of voluptuous sex kitten. Leggy, blonde, stacked. A saint would be tempted to commit a bevy of sins for one tiny touch of those incredible breasts showcased in her skintight Sex Pistols T-shirt. Clearing his throat, he lifted his gaze to safer quarters. “Jana?”

“Yes?” She cocked her head to the side, tiny frown lines pinching between her eyebrows. There was no mistaking the perplexity that held her captive. No doubt she was trying to place where she knew him from.

The knowledge provoked his grin. “I decided your sixth toe was something that needed to be appreciated in person.”

She gaped at him blankly for what seemed an eternity before her eyes widened a fraction. He watched the recognition break across her pretty face, a heady rush of happiness surging through him while he took in the blush creeping across her cheeks. That simple yet oh-so-telling cue was all the proof he needed that their long-distance attraction hadn’t been an entirely one-sided affair.

“Nick?” Her voice came out a croaked whisper.

“I hope you’re okay with me dropping in on you like this.”

“I…uh…” She scraped her fingers through her hair and mumbled a curse of her own.

A twinge of unease speared through him. F*ck. Had he misread things? “I’m sorry, I should have called first.”

“No, you…just surprised me.” Her lips took on an ironic twist. “Well, you did say you were sending a surprise along. Only I wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

“Are you disappointed?” His breath was a tight, heavy weight in his chest while he waited for her answer.

Another tinge of pink decorated her cheeks. “No. Not at all.”

The stretch of his smile let him know he was grinning like a dopey fool, but at the moment he didn’t much care. “Shit, am I glad you said that.” He plunked his case down. “If it’s okay with you, I’d really like to give you a hug now.”

An answering smile lit her face and she stepped forward. The next moment his arms were around her, and his senses were completely enslaved. Soft, feminine curves molded against him as his hands brushed her shoulder blades. A seductive floral scent teased his nose. He subtly tightened his hold on her, his thumbs stroking just above the back clasp on her bra. A noticeable shiver trembled through her, and he caught the wispy intake of her breath. The sound was as potently erotic as fingers curling around his cock.

He smothered a groan. “I have a confession to make.”

“If it’s anything to do with your erection, I’ve already figured it out.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Well, something’s poking my hip. I figured it was either that, or you have the world’s biggest pen stashed in your pocket.”

He rasped a laugh. “Why the hell did I wait so long to come see you?” Pulling back an inch, he gave her a mock-chastising look. “Oh yeah. Someone kept shooting down that idea every time I mentioned it.”

She cast her gaze toward his chin but not before he spotted the uncertainty lingering in her eyes. The flash of doubt that’d plagued him earlier uncoiled in his gut again.

“Hell.” The word escaped him in a weary gust. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” The few times he’d sneakily inquired on her relationship status, she’d never mentioned a significant other. But that didn’t necessarily mean jack shit.

“No.” She nibbled her lip. “Not really.”

“There’s a huge span between no and not really, Jana.”

“He’s only a friend.”

There was something about the sudden droop of her shoulders and the briefest flash of vulnerability he detected in her that more than filled in the gaps she’d left in her pronouncement. “Whoever he is, he’s got a severe case of dick for brains.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you obviously want more. If I were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be able to get me in your bed fast enough. And once there, I’d never f*cking leave.”

Another sweet flush tinted her cheeks, making every cell in his body buzz with anticipation.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this electrical of a pull toward a woman. Hell, he couldn’t recall if he’d ever experienced it. One thing was certain. He’d never wanted a woman this fiercely before. Prior to his weekly phone chats with Jana, he’d suspected he’d lost his mojo. The thrill of the chase had walked out the door along with Kevin on that fateful day five years ago. Sex had become unadventurous. Unexciting. Unfulfilling. After a while he’d stopped putting much effort into it. Then he’d just stopped, period.

How long had it been since he’d experienced real sex that didn’t involve his hand? At least six months. Jesus. That was a long time for someone who loved the hell out of sex. Damn miracle he was still functioning.

He pinned his full focus on Jana, fully aware that his desire for her was likely displayed on every centimeter of his face. He wasn’t about to hide the evidence of his feelings. He’d instinctively known there was a connection between them even back when she’d only been a seductive voice on the other end of the phone line. She’d accomplished the impossible—recharged his sexual batteries and his mojo. Now he was panting at her feet, and he damn well wanted her to know it.

She swallowed, drawing his scrutiny to the rapidly beating pulse in the hollow at the base of her throat. He imagined kissing and tonguing that spot and the one right below her ear before exploring every single erogenous zone she possessed. Preferably while she was tied naked to his bed. Her nipples would receive his undivided attention first. He’d get them pebbled and hard and throbbing for his tongue while he stroked them with a feather tickler. He’d meander down to her bellybutton next, followed by the insides of her thighs. By the time he concentrated on her p-ssy, her * would be slick and juicy, exactly the way he loved it. The tiniest flick of his tongue alternated with the feather tickler and she’d be squirming to get off, her body glistening with sweat and straining against the bindings he’d secured her into. Primed to ignite like a powder keg, she’d beseech him with those gorgeous eyes to make her come. And he would. So f*cking hard she’d scream her throat raw.

“You’re staring at me like one of those cartoon wolves with lambchops hovering over their heads.”

He snapped back to his senses and caught her ironic expression. “What a coincidence, since I happen to love lamb.” He offered a slow—and hopefully charming—smile. “I suggest we have it for dinner tonight.”

She snorted. “Wow, that might have been the most presumptuous line ever.”

“No, telling you I want to have you for dessert would be my most presumptuous line.”

Her pupils dilated and a shaky breath slipped past her lips. “Good point.” She crossed her arms in front of her, presumably in an effort to hide the stiffening of her nipples. Like there’d been a shot in hell of him not noticing those luscious babies. Her attention veered to his presentation case. “A-are those my samples?”

He recognized a blatant diversion tactic when he saw one. Still, he decided to let her off the hook. For now. “That they are.” He waved toward the counter where the register sat. “Can I set up the display there, or would you prefer somewhere else?”

“Be my guest.”

Taking her cue, he rested the case on the Formica counter and unlatched it. “I brought my top six flavors in the Bodylicious line, along with a couple of seasonal offerings. After I impress you with those, I’ll bring out the big guns—the BodyScape Paints.”

“I’m all aquiver with anticipation.”

“Try out these products, and you’ll be quivering in all the best places, beautiful.” Satisfied to note the shallow intake of her breath, he unscrewed the cap on the Cherry Glide Bodylicious lube. “The base utilizes a high-quality coconut-oil blend. Completely edible, with a nice, clear yet creamy texture.” He squeezed a dollop of the liquid onto the pad of his middle and index fingers and reached for her arm. Cupping her hand in his, he grazed his fingers along the inside of her wrist. Her pulse leapt beneath his touch. Hot sparks of awareness sizzled between them, making his cock thicken behind his fly. He slowed his motions, lingering on the caress. “Works great for massage but is equally durable for more intense encounters.”

“I-Intense encounters?”

“Sex.” He locked her into his gaze. “Slow, deep, hard thrusting. Anyway you like it, Bodylicious has you covered. The only thing you’ll feel is the friction of skin on skin.” His thumb slicked along the hill of her palm, tracing her lifeline with small, gliding circles.

She swallowed. “That’s…good.”

“It’s better than good. It’s damn amazing. You should try a taste.”

He returned her stare with a crooked smile. “The lube. To appreciate it fully, you need to taste it.”

“Oh. Of course.” Her expression hinting that she’d seen through his sexual smokescreen, she leaned down and tentatively licked her wrist. His cock throbbed. Jesus. What he wouldn’t give to feel that wet pink tongue flicking over the head of his dick before sliding along the length of his shaft.

She straightened, revealing the wonderment splashed across her face. “How did you do that? It tastes fantastic. Not gross or artificial at all.”

“It’s a patented formula I’d been working on for a while, back when I used to be a pastry chef.”

“You used to be a chef?” She frowned. “You never told me that.”

“It was ages ago.” The reminder of yet another integral piece of his past with Kev was bittersweet. Those years of them going through culinary school together had provided some of the best moments of his life. Even with everything that’d happened, he still cherished those memories.

“What made you decide to leave that behind and get into this?” Jana gestured to his case of erotic goodies.

“It was pretty much a natural progression. I always wanted to combine my two biggest loves—food and sex.”

Their gazes locked again before she quickly glanced away. Curbing his grin, he screwed the cap back on the Cherry Glide. “So what do you think of Bodylicious?”

She perused the remaining assortment of lubes on the counter. “Put me down for two cases of each.”

“Don’t you want to sample the other flavors?”

“Nope. If they all taste equally good, it’s not necessary.”

“Okay, but you are trying the BodyScape Paints.”

Her eyes narrowed into a squint. “Anyone told you that you’re incredibly bossy?”

Suck Kev harder, baby. Yeah. Take that fat cock deep. The ghostly memory of his words drifted into the ether as fast as they’d appeared. He offered Jana a broad smile. “Trust me, they never complained.”

She continued eying him shrewdly. “The take-charge type, eh?”

Sweetness, you have no idea. “Again, I’ve had no complaints.”

Jana tapped her chin, her intense scrutiny of him unrelenting. “Let’s say I agree to have dinner with you. You’re not going to try and order for me, are you? I freakin’ hate that. It’s not like I’m going to insist on having lobster and king crab legs, for cripes’ sake.”

Giddy victory sang through his veins. “You can have all the lobster and king crab legs you can handle.”

“I was speaking hypothetically.”

“No, you weren’t. Admit it, Jana. This flirtation we’ve been playing at for the past year has been leading to this moment. You want me just as much as I want you.” He had too many years experience at reading the female body. There’d been no missing the way she trembled when he’d applied the lube to her wrist. Like him, she’d been imagining the lube-slickened glide of his cock stroking deep into her p-ssy, triggering all of her sweet spots to hum in anticipation of an intense, electrifying orgasm. If they didn’t end this night naked in bed together, there was a good chance they’d both self-combust from repressed need.

Shoving a strand of hair behind her ear, she regarded him intently again before another flicker of uncertainty swept across her features. “Okay, I admit it. I want to jump you like crazy.”

Growling in approval, he took a step toward her. She held up a hand, stalling him short. “But things are also weirdly complicated for me right now, Nick.”

“The dick for brains,” he stated flatly.

She nodded.

He wanted to punch a hole in the nearest wall. The notion of her heart being tangled up with another ate at him. Big time. He’d finally found someone who fired every single one of his cylinders after all these years of his desire being flatlined. It was f*cking unfair to lose her to some idiot who didn’t even know what he was missing out on. Still, if there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a quitter.

Holding tight to his determination, he closed the tiny span of distance between him and Jana. “Forget about him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I keep telling myself that, but…” She dropped her focus to the floor. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice wobbly.

He tucked his finger beneath her chin and gently nudged it upward, coaxing her to meet him eye to eye. “Give me a chance, and I’ll make you forget he ever existed.”

The tiniest ghost of a sad smile flitted across her mouth. “I don’t think a lobotomy would accomplish that feat.”

“Sweetness, that sounds like one hell of a challenge. One I’ll happily accept.” Moving his hand from her chin, he cupped her cheek, his fingertips grazing the soft tendrils of her hair. His thumb brushed the small smattering of freckles near her nose. Leaning forward, he caressed his lips over the tiny sun kisses. Her breath caught in her throat before puffing along his jaw with her shaky exhalation. Irises the color of cornflowers glimmered at him from beneath dusky, lowered lashes. In that moment, a meteor crashing into the center of the store wouldn’t have stopped him from kissing her.

Inching slightly to the right, he rubbed his lips over hers in the barest hint of a touch. Another shuddery inhalation slipped from her. He increased his gentle pressure on her mouth, and she obediently yielded, allowing his tongue unimpeded access.

He wasn’t prepared for the consuming hunger her taste brought out in him. Tunneling his fingers through her hair, he coaxed her closer, deepening the kiss on a ravenous groan. Sweet, velvety, sinful. She was all of those things and so much more. A lifetime of her kisses wouldn’t be enough to quench his need.

Dimly, through his haze of desire, he detected an odd laughing noise. It took him a second to remember her Woody Woodpecker doorbell. She broke away from him, and he silently cursed her customer and their incredibly ill timing. His gaze trekked to the door and landed on a familiar face. One he sure as hell hadn’t counted on seeing. At least not until he made a trip out to the Dockside.

“Kev.” He blinked, half expecting his best friend to vanish. Or morph into someone else. Maybe Jana’s addictive kiss had drugged him and he was f*cking hallucinating. He grunted at the weird thought.

Rather than disappear, Kevin remained rooted in place. His expression was probably identical to the one Nick wore. Jaw slackened in apparent disbelief, Kev whipped his attention between Jana and Nick, his face going red before paling. When his focus steadied on Jana again, the look in his eyes was equal parts tortured and aroused.

A cold trickle of dread splintered through Nick, cracking him free of the stunned bemusement holding him hostage. He didn’t want to acknowledge the horrible suspicion slowly creeping through his bones, much less verify what his instincts were screaming. Because if what he suspected was true…fate just knocked him clean out with one hell of a curveball.

Unable to postpone the inevitable, he glanced in Jana’s direction. She was staring at Kevin, her fingers pressed to her lips. Lips that so sweetly returned Nick’s kiss seconds ago but were now trembling because of another man. There was no mistaking the hurt and confusion radiating from her in massive waves, adding to the damning evidence already piling up. The repercussions of it slammed into him with more impact than a Mack Truck.

Kevin was the dick for brains.

F*ck. Me.