Sweet Trilogy: Sweet Talk / Sweet Spot / Sweet Trouble. Сьюзен Мэллери
We could get a drink sometime.”
She froze in the act of taking a step. Had Spike just asked her out?
She turned back to him. Would it be a date? A real, live date? “That would be nice,” she said, and continued toward the trailer.
Okay, so she wasn’t desperately interested in Spike. At least going out with him would be practice, so she could do a better job when she met someone she really liked. Besides, he seemed nice enough. Maybe she was judging him too quickly.
As she approached the trailer, the door flung open. Wyatt stood in the opening, glowering at her.
“Why were you talking to Spike?” he demanded.
“What? I don’t know. We were just chatting.”
“It looked like more than that.”
“You’re right. We were planning our elopement. We’re going to have to wait until his day off.”
Wyatt stepped back and motioned for her to enter the trailer. “You’re not good at sarcasm.”
“Give me time, I’ll get better.”
He stared at her; his dark eyes seemed to see into her soul. “Did he ask you out?”
Why was Wyatt acting like this? “He mentioned getting a drink.”
Wyatt closed the door behind her. The trailer wasn’t huge and most of the space was filled with desks and filing cabinets. Blueprints had been pinned up on the wall, showing the different floor plans. At least she thought that’s what they were.
Wyatt stood close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. He didn’t look happy.
“You don’t want to date Spike,” he told her.
Which was true, but she hated being told that by him. “Because you say so?”
“Because he’s only been out of prison a couple of months. He’s a good worker, but he was convicted for assault. He’s on probation now.”
Claire swallowed. Prison? As in incarceration? Okay, then. “I’m sure everyone deserves a second chance,” she said primly, suddenly relieved she hadn’t given Spike her phone number. Not that he’d asked.
“He’s also married.”
“What? Are you serious? Married?”
That was so unfair, she thought, suddenly furious. Not that she was all that interested in dating Spike, but married? At this rate she was never going to have a relationship, never going to have sex. She was a freak on too many levels, she thought as she stared at her hands. Why couldn’t she be normal, like other people?
“You sound upset,” Wyatt told her. “Is his wife going to get in the way of your plans?”
“Don’t be mean,” she said, suddenly feeling defeated. “I’m not interested in Spike, which you probably could have guessed. I don’t care that he’s married, it’s just…”
This was so her life, she thought sadly. Where had she gone wrong? How was she going to make things different?
“It’s just what?” he asked.
She shrugged. “He was interested. Maybe. That was nice.”
“You enjoy ex-convicts coming on to you?”
“Of course not. It’s just no one ever asks me out. Even for a drink. I managed to go through life with men looking the other way.”
She braced herself for his scorn, or maybe an explanation of what was wrong with her.
Instead he folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah, right.”
“It’s true. I don’t date. Ever. I’m rarely home. I don’t travel with an orchestra so I don’t meet a lot of guys there. Besides, most of them are total players or gay. The good ones are already married. Anyway, when I’m on the road, I’m going from event to event. I don’t have time to meet anyone let alone form a relationship. The person I see the most is Lisa, my manager, and believe me, she’s not my type.”
He stared at her, not speaking. She sighed.
“I’m not making this up,” she said. “If I do manage to meet someone seminice or normal, he’s usually completely intimidated by me. It’s the fame or the money or whatever, I’m not sure. But it’s terrible. It’s not like I’m not trying, you know. I want to meet a great guy. I want to be involved.” She glanced toward the door. “Maybe not with Spike.”
“You think?”
She glared at him. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”
“Not really.”
“That is just so typical. You criticize me all you want, but do you try to see my side of things? Do you care about—”
She was still talking when Wyatt moved in, put both hands on her face, leaned down and kissed her.
The feel of his lips on hers was so startling that she said, “What are you—”
“Be quiet.”
It seemed like really good advice.
His mouth was firm, yet amazingly gentle. Warm, too, she thought as her eyes fluttered closed. He kept the kiss light, but not soft. As if he was giving her all the time she needed to get used to what he was doing.
He tilted his head, bringing more of his lips in contact with hers. He brushed back and forth, exploring, teasing. His kiss seemed to steal her breath and make her brain fuzzy.
Heat blossomed between them. Heat and need and a strong desire to be as close to him as possible.
She raised her hands, not exactly sure what to do with them, then rested her fingertips on his shoulders. He dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her against him until they were touching everywhere.
It was better than she could have imagined. He was strong and hard and totally male. He smelled good, too. Clean and masculine with a hint of something outdoorsy.
He touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip. Even she was able to recognize the request for what it was and parted for him. He eased into her mouth, exploring as he went. Everywhere he touched, she felt tingles.
His tongue brushed against hers, which made her whole body clench. She met him stroke for stroke, melting on the inside, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep from sinking to the floor.
He held her against him. Her breasts flattened against his chest. When he moved his hands up and down her back, she wished she could feel his touch on her bare skin.
They kissed again and again. Individual cells deep inside of her began to whimper. When he broke the kiss, she nearly cried out in protest.
Fortunately, he wasn’t done with her. He pressed his mouth to her jawline, then down her neck. He moved to her ear, where he sucked on her lobe before licking the sensitive skin just beneath. She shivered and her breasts swelled, as did that place between her legs. She wanted and needed and was prepared to beg.
Finally Wyatt straightened and looked at her. She saw fire in his eyes. Thank God she wasn’t the only one affected.
She wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted whatever he was offering.
“We should go out,” he said.
“On a d-date?” she stammered.
He nodded.
A real date? The two of them? Her insides quivered at the thought.
“That would be great,” she said, hoping she wasn’t as flushed as she felt. “You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I was. Or kissed you. Just for the record, Nicole and I have never gone out.”
She