Page 13 of Sexpresso Night

Chapter Three

“Coffee.” She sat back in her chair, although not far enough away that he could no longer touch her arm. Now all four fingertips slid up and down in a gentle, mesmerizing rhythm. “Haven’t we had enough coffee tonight?”

His lips quirked, his touch continued. “That’s a euphemism. If I invited you for ‘a cup of coffee’ that would mean coffee. But when I invite you ‘for coffee’ it means…something else.”

“What else?” She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“What do you think?”

“I think I don’t even know you.”

“Yes. You do.” His fingers stopped on the inside of her wrist, where her pulse fluttered wildly against his fingertips.

With his gaze fastened on hers, she could only nod her agreement. Yes. She did know him. In some kind of elemental, instinctive way, she knew him. And liked him. A lot.

He pushed back his chair and stood. Held out a hand to her.

What was she doing?

She wanted this man. And why not?

So she stood too, picked up her purse and slid her hand into his.

“Let me just tell someone I’m leaving,” he said.

The shop was nearly empty now, five minutes after closing time, and Carter went over to speak to the barista in the black bustier while Danya waited near the counter.

“Come out the back way.” He took her hand in his warm, solid clasp. “I’m parked behind the shop.”

They exited into the alley behind the building, dark and shadowy, and with his remote access control he flicked the door locks of his car, the headlights flashing light against the old brick of the building.

He held the door while she slid into the passenger seat. She approved of his car—a fuel-efficient hybrid. “My car is in the parking lot at the beach,” she murmured.

He glanced at her as he slung one arm over the seat to reverse into the lane. “Do you want to get it?”

“Will you take me back there later to get it?”

“Of course.”

“Then leave it.”

She could very possibly have lost her mind. It was all kinds of crazy, going home with a near-stranger. Much as she’d explored the thrill of danger, the excitement of edge play in the past, at that moment she only felt…safe. Excited, yes. Thrilled—you bet. But completely, totally safe.

Carter’s small cottage-style bungalow just off State Street was only a few minutes drive away through dark streets.

“Your house is nice.” She looked around as she walked in. Hardwood floors gleamed beneath their feet. Through an arched door on their right the living room, nearly empty save for a black leather sectional and a big screen television, sat dark.

“Thanks.”

He took her purse from her and set it on a small table.

“This is crazy,” she whispered as he settled his hands on her shoulders.

“Why?” He bent his head and nuzzled the hair above her ear. He smelled delicious—warm spicy male and, of course, coffee. Dark and rich and exotic. Her eyes fell closed and she reached for him, set her hands on his waist, solid and warm beneath his white button-down shirt. “I’ve been watching you for months, coming in to the store. You’re so hot and sweet.”

Her body went liquid.

“I love your hair.” He stroked a gentle hand over it and she tingled everywhere, a small moan escaping her. “It’s like caramel and honey. Thick. Smooth.”

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