Page 65 of Color of Love

Justine sighed. “Fine. It was about a month ago. Yes, we’re still sleeping together. No, I don’t know what it means and of course it’s big, have you seen the size of the man!”

More cackling abounded which the men chose to ignore this time, too busy laughing at something else Blake said.

“Welcome to the club, my friend,” Christy said, clinking her glass with Justine’s.

“Gross, thanks for the reminder that you’re doing it with my brother,” Taylor muttered.

“Well close your ears darlin’ because it’s about to get real detailed. Dean really likes it when I take my hand and squeeze-”

“No! No, no, no!” Taylor shouted, jumping up and stomping inside the house, shaking her head. Justine laughed and turned back to Christy.

“Keep going…I want to know,” she said. The men were talking quietly amongst themselves, except for Beau who was staring intently at Taylor through the glass door to the kitchen. Interesting. Christy leaned forward to whisper in Justine’s ear. As she listened, her mouth ran dry, and her skin prickled with awareness. When Christy pulled back and saw the scandalized expression on Justine’s face, she laughed.

“Is that even legal?” Justine choked out

Christy shrugged. “Darlin’, I don’t know, but it makes him see stars.” She turned to stare at the man in question, a dreamy smile on her face. Is that how I look at Blake? Does he look at me like that? She turned to look for him but found him already watching her, the devilish expression on his face made her think that move might be something he would like after all.

When everyone said goodbye and started to leave Dean and Christy’s, Blake came over to her and kissed her in front of everyone. Wolf whistles abounded and she was secretly thrilled he had made such a public claim on her. She’d never been the one in the group to have a boyfriend and she loved it. Wait, boyfriend?Whoa, back up. He’s not your Mr. Right and you know it. But seeing the way he fit in with her friends, her second family, was almost too much, she wanted more. Blake’s lips at her ear distracted her from her thoughts, his hot breath making her shiver despite the warm evening.

“I can’t wait to get you into bed,” he murmured. “The things I want to do to you…” trailing off, he growled low in his throat, and she sighed in response. The man was insatiable.

“Take me home then,” she replied, leaning into his body. They said goodbye to everyone and left amid more whistles and jeers. He lifted her onto his motorcycle and sat in front. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his strong back, right between his shoulder blades, like the space was made just for her.

They rode back to his place, he checked on Penny while she went upstairs, and she smiled as she heard him cooing at the fox. She loved his soft side. When he came upstairs, she was already naked, and he set to work. First, he made her beg in English, then in Spanish. Then she told him what she wanted to try, and it was his turn to beg.

*

“Journey? Are you serious?” Blake hooted, and Justine pouted, that gorgeous bottom lip of hers sticking out for miles and he had to restrain himself from nibbling on it. She wiggled in his lap, trying to get comfortable.

“How is that any different than Val Halen?” she countered, and he fixed her with his most serious stare.

“Oh, honey, it’s very different.”

She thought for a moment, and he used her distraction to openly stare at her, something he was doing more and more lately. Like he was unable to believe this stunning, intelligent, strong woman would be sitting on his lap, in his squad car, on a fake stakeout, debating the merits of eighties bands. He didn’t want to jinx it, but life was pretty darn good right now, for the first time in…ever. He was lighter, carefree, and so calm, it was a strange feeling, but a blissfully liberating one.

“I know!” she shouted triumphantly, and he laughed, stroking his hand down her spine. “Heart! You’ve got to love Heart. Alone? Come on, you can’t deny that song!” she said excitedly, then belted out the chorus, her voice causing little goosebumps to prickle across his skin. He couldn’t deny it, especially when she sang it so beautifully that he felt it in his soul, but he wouldn’t let her win that easily. He stroked a hand over his beard, thoughtfully.

“I’m not denying that song, but only that one,” he added when she looked far too smug and pleased with herself. “They’re no Mötley Crüe,” he grumbled.

“Ugh, please! They’re all hair and no substance,” she sniffed demurely, folding her arms over her chest.

“Okay, name someone better,” he challenged.

“I think the hard part would be only naming one band better, there are far too many.”

At her words, he fixed her with a mock scowl. “Wiseass.”

She hid her smirk. He dropped his hand to cup her ass and squeezed.

“Okay, person or band?” she relented.

“How about a duo?”

“Ooh, interesting but easy. Hall and Oates? Pet Shop Boys? Tears for Fears? The Eurythmics, wait, Wham!” She was so excited, but Blake faked a snore and she giggled.

“Did I tell you about the man who burst into the bar with a gun and demanded someone play eighties music?” he asked, seriously.

“No?”

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