Must Love Curves (Six Wicked Shorts) (20 page)

He draped an arm and one leg over me, his face nuzzling my throat, his answer sealing the bet. "Dinner -- with my entire family."

Spanked by the Vet 

Stepping into the apartment of my long-time crush Cayce Gerard, I slipped my three-inch heels from my aching feet and glared at him as I tried to catch my breath. As much energy as I had expended climbing three flights of stairs, I could have almost walked home if he hadn't insisted on driving me. Of course, the trek up the stairs wouldn't have been necessary if my now ex-boyfriend Howard hadn't dumped a bucket of ice water over Cayce's head, necessitating a change of clothes.

Catching my hard stare, Cayce wrinkled his nose. "I don't need you shooting daggers at me, little girl."

Little girl!

I suppressed a snarl. If my body was anything approaching petite, I wouldn't have been dating a jerk like Howard.

I wrinkled my nose right back at Cayce before looking away and pretending an interest in the few pieces of furniture that filled his combination living/dining room. I had visited the apartment just once before, a little more than a year ago. It had been a dark time in my life. Remembering that day, a knot formed in my throat so thick I almost choked swallowing it down.

Serving as a delivery girl, I had brought Cayce a contract for the transfer of my dying father's animal clinic. Cayce was buying it, which seemed appropriate since he had worked at the clinic all through high school and college and again, as a vet, for two years after he finished graduate school and got his license. Daddy had loved those last two years, working side by side with Cayce.

Rolling my lips inward, I closed my eyes. The evening had already been painful enough without thinking about daddy passing and how lonely the last year had been.

I missed my father more than anything, but I missed Cayce, too. He had pretty much disappeared from my life after the funeral. Once a month, I got a small check from his account signed by his bookkeeper. The payments under his contract with daddy were based on a percent of profits. Judging by the checks, either a narrow definition applied to profits or things weren't going too well at the clinic.

So now I had no living relatives, a crappy job, very little money, and, after the scene in the restaurant, no boyfriend.

I shook my head, trying not to think about Howard and the fiasco of the last few hours. The night had started out as a celebration -- one I mistakenly thought included a proposal and an engagement ring. Howard had taken me to Uchi's, after all. Everybody who is anybody in Austin knows that all the single, middle-aged rich guys go to Uchi's to get laid or woo their future brides.

It's not like I'm delusional, just a little naïve, I guess. Howard really did have a proposal in mind. It even came with a diamond ring. Smaller, I imagine, than the one his wife wears.

Yeah -- Howard has a wife. He wanted to fly me to Saint Martin for a weekend "commitment" ceremony. He'd taken me to Uchi to offer me the grand honor of becoming his mistress, which is three letters too many for what he really meant. I told him no, of course, I wouldn't do that to myself or another woman. I don't care who she is or who the guy is.

I should have slapped Howard and walked out, but I was embarrassed as hell to discover I had slept with a married man. I wanted to quietly slip away and nurse my wounded pride. But every time I stood to go, Howard grabbed my arm, poured himself more champagne and continued trying to sell me on the idea.

When I finally asked the waitress to call a cab, Howard became belligerent.

"What's the big deal, baby?" Finishing off the last drop of an expensive magnum of Bollinger Brut Rose, Howard had leaned in close and roughly squeezed my breast, treating me like the whore he obviously thought I was. "All your expenses will be covered. And you couldn't really believe I could take you to the country club with all this."

He gave my plump arm a little pinch and jiggle.

One of the tears I'd been fighting to hold back since his so-called proposal finally slid down my cheek.

"Didn't peg you for a prude." He tried sliding a hand down my skirt until he ran into the pointy end of my strategically placed fork. "Come on, Ashley. It's not like we haven't fucked already--"

Those words were almost his last. Cayce appeared out of nowhere and lifted Howard by his collar.

Mortified, I sank lower in my chair. Cayce's apartment is just five blocks away from the restaurant, so I shouldn't have been completely surprised. But he hates sushi. Not to mention, a dinner for two at Uchi's along with the champagne probably matched a month's rent for his third-floor walk-up.

Somehow, a full out fist fight failed to materialize. Lucky for Howard because Cayce would have creamed him. Cayce spends his day lifting Mastiffs and wrestling farm animals. There's isn't an inch on him that isn't sculpted muscle.

I licked my lips, remembering all the summers I'd seen Cayce shirtless, his skin bronzed by the sun and darker angel kisses freckling the surface. I don't know how to describe his body except to say that there are mountains, there are oaks and then there is Cayce. Which was probably exactly what Howard had been thinking when he picked up the metal ice bucket and tried to hit Cayce.

Howard's wimp-ass sucker punch move tripled my embarrassment. I had really scored a trifecta with him -- married, a coward and, in the end, just another guy who wanted to ride the fat girl for a time. Whatever humiliation I felt, it paled against the anger blazing across Cayce's face as he deflected the bucket before it could slam into his head.

Lucky for Howard, Cayce learned how to control his emotions long ago. Some days, I wasn't even sure he had any. He would be smiling one minute and the next minute I couldn't squeeze so much as a blink out of him. So his anger evaporated before the water could even begin to drip and he settled for locking one of his meat hooks around my wrist and dragging me back to his apartment to change before driving me home.

Home -- where I would be alone all over again.

Thinking about the house I grew up in and how empty it was now, I heard the dryer door shut, then the sound of the cylinder turning. A broad, shirtless chest slid into view two feet in front of me a second later. The wet jeans were gone, too, but he had apparently pulled a pair of gym shorts from the hamper.

"That loser isn't worth pouting over, little girl."

Ignoring the need to lick my lips again, I let my gaze crawl over the valley and peaks of his abdominals and the hard plates of his chest with its dark red nipples. When I finally reached Cayce's face, I found him scowling at me.

He thought I was upset about Howard. Yeah, I was pissed at Howard, but the emotion shaping my mouth was something more. This last year, I had lost the two most important men in my life -- one to kidney failure and the other for no known reason.

Indifference, I guessed.

I scowled back and slitted my eyes at Cayce. It was fine by me if he wanted to think I was being a baby and lamenting my lost lover. The oversized jerk had been all but invisible this last year. A couple of visits the first few months, a couple more calls after that and the monthly checks signed by someone else. I could have been dead for all he knew!

Clearly, Cayce Gerard didn't give a damn about me and probably never had. All the little acts of kindness over the years, the shoulder to cry on when some boy hurt my feelings -- all of that had been exposed as a sham since daddy died.

Cayce moved toward his bedroom for fresh clothes. Spoiling for a fight, I followed after him. I couldn't face Howard again, at least not without going to jail. I wanted to cut that man's balls off. Since I don't think I'd do very well in prison, Cayce was the next best target for my anger.

He deserved it, too.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I'll pout if I want to."

"Frank spoiled you." Bending down, Cayce slid the bottom drawer of his dresser open. Water still clung to his torso from the wet shirt, making him look like he'd just stepped out of the shower and into the clingy gym shorts that molded so enticingly to his muscular ass when he reached down like that.

A shiver of appreciation ran through me before I forced myself to look away. "Leave daddy out of this. He only did right by you."

"True, princess. But did he do right by you?" Taking out a clean t-shirt, he tossed it onto the bed and started for the bathroom. "I mean, why else do you always pick these whiners with wallets? You've been like that since high school, but that guy tonight was the worst. What did you see in him, Ashley?"

Cayce looked at me. I cocked an angry brow at him. He didn't deserve an answer and he wouldn't like the one I had to give him. That much was clear from his prolonged absence.

He slapped a towel over his shoulder and growled. "Answer me, little girl."

I pressed my lips tighter. There was no way to tell Cayce that I picked guys like Howard because they were the exact opposite of Cayce. Or that all my ex-boyfriends didn't mind dating fat girls, which was not something I had ever seen Cayce do. All the girls who had hung on his arm during high school were cheerleaders or pretty and thin enough to be on the team.

I didn't want to admit my fat girl insecurities, but, far more than that, I didn't want to even think about that first reason -- my feelings for Cayce. Just talking to him on the phone made my knees weak. Actually looking at him left me wet and struggling to breathe. Every year my body's reaction to Cayce grew worse, but the attraction remained a one-way street. From cleaning my skinned knees when I was in junior high right up to the scene at the restaurant and the lecture-filled, patronizing walk to his apartment, Cayce had treated me like his little sister.

I ached and yearned and I didn't want a husband or a boyfriend with that kind of power over me. All Cayce had to do was scowl at me and I felt my heart grinding to dust like dried butterfly wings.

How was I supposed to tell the big jerk that I had it really, really bad for him?

"You're pushing my patience, Ash." Slowly drawing the towel from his shoulder, he exited the bathroom.

Crossing my arms, I forced myself to look at him. Well, I looked at his left ear. My pussy was tingling too much to risk anything more. His face is as overwhelming as his body. Pale gray eyes, dark lashes, a heavy brow and that mouth. It's the easiest thing in the world for me to get lost looking at that mouth of his -- expressive, full, the lips a brownish red like his nipples, with a faint part at their center showing a hint of teeth. Just watching him eat an apple is nearly orgasmic.

The things I had imagined him doing with those lips and teeth and tongue would make a seasoned hooker blush.

"We're not leaving until you answer me, princess."

Showing me he had all the time in the world, Cayce started drying off. My pulse kicked into high gear at the sight of the cloth caressing his arms and chest. A fresh twinge of need rippled through my pussy. I wanted to take the towel and rub it all over the chiseled abs and thick biceps before I stripped his shorts away.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the image of my touching him so intimately. "It's none of your damn business who I go out with or why."

"Yes, it is." Cayce dropped the towel to the floor and walked slowly across the room in my direction. "I promised Frank I'd look after you -- that I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, Ashley. Anyone."

"Some promise!" I backed closer to the wall as he kept moving toward me. "Daddy's been dead a year and you've been by maybe four times. And all those were at the beginning."

He stopped, blinked once, and I knew that I had finally hit a nerve. He shrugged it off and continued walking until I was backed all the way against the bedroom wall and he was less than two feet from me.

"Little girl, your daddy was a great vet, but a really lousy businessman. I've been through the books and he wasn't even drawing a salary the last three years." More than half a foot taller, Cayce had to tilt his head down to glare at me. "For almost a year, I've worked morning, noon and night -- all so half of the patients' owners can pay me in eggs and sides of beef. But I've been there every time you needed me."

"Like you'd have any clue when I need you." I shot back.

"I knew tonight."

I couldn't argue with that. I still had no idea how he knew Howard had gotten drunk and warped into a complete asshole. Still, I come equipped with ovaries, so I don't feel compelled to argue rationally. And with all the things Cayce's presence was doing to my body, I was in no shape to try. My nipples were too hard to think. My clit ached. My pussy dripped. I didn't have a single neuron available to process any kind of logic.

Physical sensations. Emotions. Those were all I had left.

"If you really meant to keep your promise to daddy, you wouldn't have stayed away." I pushed at his chest, trying to force him to step away. I might as well have been playing pat-a-cake with a concrete wall. "He treated you like a son, same as if you were his flesh and blood."

With a growl, Cayce closed the rest of the distance between us. He pressed his palms flat against the wall behind me, his nails scraping at the paint as tension curled his fingers. "But we're not blood, little girl. And that's not something you want me thinking about right now."