Love in Bloom (an erotic short story) (2 page)

Dustin turned over
the card he’d found stuck in the bouquet and tapped the glass to get the cabbie’s attention. “Hey, would you hang a right at the next street? I have a quick stop I want to make.”

Flowers. He needed something to give his secretary. She might have a coronary that he’d thought to bring her something for Valentine’s Day. But she’d worked for him for eight years; the time had come to think of something besides blueprints.

And why not check out the florist shop responsible for yesterday’s delivery? The identity of the flustered woman who’d fallen across his threshold was still driving him crazy. He knew her. Maybe he’d even dated her. Something about all that blonde hair, china blue eyes and complete lack of sophistication sparked a memory.

Once he’d figured it out, the mystery solved, he could move on.

Maybe after he’d satisfied
more
than his curiosity. Since she’d first fallen against him, nearly tugging his towel off in the process and raised those wide baby blues, he’d been ensnared.

Part of him was bored with his usual go-to list. Not that there were many. He hadn’t had a lot of time to meet anyone new in months. And the ones he did know hadn’t made it past the third date before they started leaving behind things in his apartment. And since none of them were what he was looking for, he quietly deleted their numbers from his speed dial and got busier with work to make sure he was never available for their calls.

A coward’s way out, but he didn’t like dashing hopes. He hated a woman’s tears because they made him feel guilty. And he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about. He never led them on. The women he dated tended to think too highly of themselves, like clinging to his arm at a function was a favor he was obligated to return.

They weren’t what he wanted.

The girl in the pink-bibbed uniform shirt probably wasn’t either, but she was different. Lacking any poise or artifice. Lacking even the ability to hide her intense interest in what lay beneath his towel because her gaze had slipped downward one too many times, her cheeks blooming with color to rival the roses she’d slapped against his chest.

He might enjoy giving her plenty of reasons to blush. After exiting the cab, he turned down the collar of his jacket, pushed through the glass doors, and entered a fragrant garden.

Passionate Posies wasn’t what he’d expected. Sure flowers were arranged in vases, but the wild colors and the size of the arrangements hinted at a lush sensuality.

An older woman looked up from the sales counter. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a woman,” he said, grimacing at her instant grin. “She works here. She made a delivery yesterday.

The woman’s gaze sharpened then gave him a brief onceover that had him gritting his teeth because the sparkle in her eyes said she knew what had happened.

“She’s in the back room, working on an arrangement,” she said, pointing to a door behind her. “You can go on back.”

He reached for the counter ledge and lifted it, heat flushing his cheeks because she craned her head to watch him pass. What the hell else had the delivery girl told her about him?

When he walked through the door, he caught sight of his quarry sliding a long-stalked flower into an arrangement bursting with color.

Her back was to him, and apparently she hadn’t heard the swish of the door closing behind him. A fact that suited him fine because this time he could look his fill.

Not just a delivery girl, he thought, noting the way she played with the grouping of blooms and long ferns.

Her wildly curling hair shivered around her head every time she turned her head to eye the arrangement from a different angle. At last, she must have been satisfied because she reached her arms to untie the bow at the back of her pink apron and began to draw the garment over her head.

The blouse she wore beneath it rose as well, and she was half out of her shirt before she realized the problem. “Dammit,” she muttered, reaching for the hem of her blouse but finding her arms trapped inside the armholes of the apron.

He stepped forward, and lifted the coverall and the blouse the rest of the way off. “That better?” he murmured.

She gasped and spun, her hands covering her breasts.

“Not so funny when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” he drawled.

She eyed the tangle of clothing she’d just shed, and then straightened her shoulders. Her hands dropped to her sides and she gave him a glare that dared him to say something else.

“I’m heading out to grab a bite,” the older woman called from the shop room. “I’ll lock the front door on my way out.”

The blonde in front of him rolled her eyes.

He moved in closer, liking the way her cheeks flushed a deeper rose the more he crowded in. Any other woman he knew would be eyeing him with catlike satisfaction. “Is she matchmaking?” he murmured.

She wrinkled her nose, and her hands swung forward then back like she still wanted to cover herself. “She probably poked her head in the door and saw you stripping me and jumped to all the wrong conclusions. Why are you here?”

“I came about that date.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You came all this way because I turned you down?”

Dustin shook his head. Sure, he’d been a little taken aback she hadn’t said yes, but that wasn’t why he’d made it a point to seek her out. Watching the emotions slide over her face and mobile mouth aroused him more than any woman’s practiced smile had in a long, long time. “I came because I really wanted to see you again.”

*

Mandy blew out
the breath she’d been holding. He’d said exactly what she wanted to hear, but was it a line he’d used hundreds of times before?

But who was she kidding? Her whole body had tingled with excitement the second she’d realized who had helped her out of her shirt. “All right. I’ll go out with you. But it’ll be late. Tonight’s the longest day of the year for me. I’ve been going since before dawn. I have Valentine’s Day deliveries lined up until eight.”

“Don’t bother dressing up. We’ll do something casual. Can I pick you up?”

She reached for the notepad and jotted down her address, and then stepped closer to give it to him, forcing her gaze to meet his and catching his flicking over the tops of her breasts again.

“I don’t remember those,” he murmured. “I think I would have if we’d ever dated.”

“Late bloomer,” she muttered with a shrug.

“Nice. Gonna use those shears on me if I try to kiss you?”

The shears sat next to the notepad, and she pushed them away. Then she realized what her action implied, and blushed, but he was already moving in.

Not that she was complaining. The hands that slid around her bare waist were warm and strong. The face lowering to hers so handsome she sighed as their lips met.

The kiss was soft, exploring. His lips caressed hers. Mandy lifted her hands and placed them against his chest, as much to brace herself because her knees were weakening, and to feel the flex of steely muscle as his arms wrapped around her.

He broke the kiss. “I should go,” he whispered.

Unable to form a single word, she nodded. Her hands slid up his chest, around his neck, and she rose on tiptoe to kiss him again.

Her aggression sparked a fire. His mouth landed on hers, his tongue stroked inside.

Mandy dug her fingers into his hair and kissed him back, meeting his thrusts with eager forays of her own.

When his hands landed on her bottom and lifted her to the edge of her work table, she wrapped her legs around his hips to bring him flush with her body.

Her bra gave beneath the flick of his practiced hand, and her breasts spilled into his palms. Thumbs swept her nipples then fingers plucked the tips.

Their mouths went wild, lips suctioning, tongues tangling.

The phone rang.

Eyelids at half mast, Dustin lifted his head. “Don’t answer it.”

She groaned. “Busiest day.”

His eyes closed, his forehead met hers, and he dragged in deep, ragged breaths. “Tonight.”

She nodded, too overcome to play coy. “We’ll stay in.”

“Am I moving too fast for you?” His eyes opened. His gaze was steady. Intense.

She blinked, still warm and pliant from his kisses. “Dustin, I’ve been waiting for this forever.”

*

Dustin hadn’t any
patience with the elevator in her apartment building and ran up the six flights, arriving slightly out of breath at her door. He hoped she hadn’t had second thoughts. Not that he’d blame her. Things had gotten out of hand, and quickly, at her shop.

Still, he’d be in hell all night if she decided to slow the pace. His cock had throbbed all afternoon, and he hadn’t wanted to ease the tension while he’d showered because he didn’t want anything surrounding him that wasn’t her.

Her arousal had been a beautiful thing to witness, adding rose to her cheeks, a sparkle to her sky-blue eyes. He checked his joy at her door, worried now that she might not feel as eager or as enthralled as he did after his second encounter with Amanda Blakely.

He’d filched a business card from beside the cash register before he left the store. Now he finally had a name for the woman he’d kissed amid the blooms and leaves littering the work table in her store.

Taking a deep breath, he eyed the flowers he clutched in his hands and hoped like hell a florist who worked with them all day long wouldn’t think him unimaginative. But he hadn’t known what else to bring. The pink roses were the color of her cheeks when flushed with passion, the irises the color of her eyes. He’d had the florist add baby’s breath for the hint of innocence her eager passion exposed, and yellow daisies because looking at them made him think of spring and the hope she’d still be with him to enjoy the change of season.

He rang the doorbell then stood back, feeling eager and awkward and hoping like hell she met him with a smile.

Then the door flew open, and there she was. She was dressed in faded blue jeans with frayed holes at the knees and an overlarge tee that draped her body to mid-thigh. But she’d foregone a bra—and he couldn’t manage to look away from the ripened little tips that poked against the blue material.

“I’m up here,” she said.

He dragged his gaze upward, feeling a blush heat his cheeks, only to find a grin stretching her mouth.

“I took you at your word,” she said, still smiling. “You said casual. I don’t like underwear between me and my clothes when I’m home.”

In an instant, his mouth dried, and he pushed the bouquet toward her chest.

Her laughter bubbled over, and he relaxed. “Guess I know how it feels now,” he said softly.

“Yeah, kinda takes your breath away. Nice flowers,” she said, lifting a brow.

“I’m not sure what it means. This feeling.”

Her expression shifted to something more thoughtful. “Then we won’t label it. Not yet. But I do know where it’s heading right now…” She reached for his hand and pulled him inside her apartment, past the living room and straight into the darkened bedroom at the end of a short corridor.

“We could order in food first,” he said, trying to remember he ought to be a gentleman since he wanted more than just a one-night stand.

She was already pulling her shirt over her head and crawling onto the mattress.

A second glimpse of her small rose-tipped breasts and the narrow indent of her waist had his palms itching to touch her again. He toed off his shoes.

Mandy turned and rested on her elbows. “I thought we might finish what we started since I haven’t been able to think of anything else all damn day.”

A smile stretched his face at the frustration brimming in her voice. Warmth filled his chest at her expression. She acted in control and self-assured, but her wide eyes gave away her anxiety.

He stripped quickly, donned a condom while he could still think to do it, then strode toward her. With gentle tugs, he removed her jeans without saying a word or letting her help and crawled over her, settling his weight on top of her. “We’ll do this, seeing as how eager you are to finish. But I want more.”

She lay still beneath him. “More?”

“Mandy, I want to know you. I’ll be seeing you again. Past the third date.”