Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,33

a close call. One that could’ve ended very badly if her daughter had come downstairs before using the bathroom. Candace never would’ve forgiven herself—or him.

A raging case of blue balls was a small price to pay to ensure there’d be a next time. Until then, he had memories—and his faithful right hand—to tide him over.

He slid his fist up and down. Closed his eyes and pictured her. Lips so sweet and soft he could kiss them for hours at a time, lips he wanted around his cock. He’d slide his fingers through her golden hair, hold the back of her head, but he wouldn’t need to guide her, hell no. She’d look up at him with sex-glazed eyes while taking every inch of him. Suck him so hard he’d barely be able to hold back.

But he would hold back, because more than he wanted to be in her mouth, he wanted inside her body. Wanted to make her come, over and over, to make her feel so good she couldn’t think about anything else. Hell, she’d be past the point of thinking at all. When he’d drawn every possible orgasm from her willing, sexy body, when she physically couldn’t come one more time, then he’d let go. Fucking get lost in her.

He stroked faster, pumped his hips toward his fist, braced himself against the wall. “Fuuuck…” Thick warmth coated his fingers. Water rolled down his face, over his body, rinsing away today’s much needed release. Temporary relief until he saw Candace later—if it even lasted that long.

He washed up quickly and turned off the shower, shaking his head for reasons other than clearing the water from his hair. Maybe it was karma doing its thing, making him fall for a woman who wanted to wait to have sex, unlike the other ninety-nine percent of women he’d dated or just casually fucked. Not a problem. He could handle waiting.

Still, it was ironic. The first woman he’d had to work to get a date with, the only woman not willing to jump into the sack with him, spent her daytime hours selling her body to other men.

He’d told her it didn’t matter what she did at work, and that’d been true—to a point. True in that he wouldn’t judge her for it. True in that it wouldn’t scare him off. He’d said it didn’t matter, not that he didn’t care. He cared. Oh, hell yeah, he cared.

Every minute he spent with Candace made him care more. The only thing that prevented him from going crazy was knowing how she felt about her job. Everything she did there was an act, a lie. None of those guys truly knew her or had a place in her life. They didn’t even know her real name.

The clock on his dresser read 6:40 a.m. An entire day off ahead, giving him plenty of time to do whatever he wanted. Go back to bed for a couple hours and catch up on some sleep. Walk the Iron Horse trail with Trooper. Hit the farmer’s market for some fresh veggies and a boxful of warm, sugar-coated apple fritters. Kick back by the pool with ice-cold beer an arm’s reach away in the cooler and the ballgame on the radio.

Good ideas, all of which would be better shared with Candace. None of which could happen because weekends belonged to her daughter. A priority he had no intention of undermining, no matter how much he wanted time with her.

Understanding and accepting the weekend’s daytime limitations didn’t change the fact that he had at least fourteen hours to kill before he saw her. Kissed her. Touched her. This was going to be the longest day off ever. And not in a good way.

Candace

The reflection of her bed caught Candace’s gaze as she pulled a t-shirt over her head in front of the mirror. The pale-blue duvet and pillows hadn’t been touched since she made the bed Thursday morning. The past two nights, she’d slept downstairs, on the couch, cuddled up to Jake.

Being in his arms had felt so good. Relaxed, safe. And before they’d fallen asleep—she’d felt turned-on. Very turned-on. More than she’d thought possible while working at Lucky’s.

That kiss in the hall this morning…wow. She closed her eyes, slid her hands up her body, beneath her t-shirt, pushing her bra above her breasts so she could cup them, skin on skin. The way Jake had. His touch hadn’t ended there, though, because she’d led his hand lower, then much lower.

She