Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,22

watching her, and when she reached the fourth one, she couldn’t help pausing to glance over her shoulder at him.

“Oh, Oliver, do you want to know why I didn’t want to walk up the stairs until you left?”

He didn’t reply, just gave her an inscrutable look.

She told him anyway. “Because of this.”

Candace took another step, knowing she’d reached the point of no return. Knowing full well he could now see what she was not wearing beneath her robe.

She wished she could say his strangled, guttural cry of helpless frustration made her feel better about walking away from what she sensed could be the best sex of her life.

But she just couldn’t.

5

EVER SINCE HE’D started getting involved with females, Oliver had known how to handle them. Maybe it was because he’d had sisters, lots of girl cousins and parents with an honest, loving marriage in which nobody held the upper hand. Maybe because he’d had girls after him since he hit puberty. Maybe he’d just been born with the gene.

The point was, he’d always been sure of himself when it came to women. He’d always known when one was interested and when she wasn’t, been able to gauge how soon was too soon, or when it was too late and he’d missed his shot. He’d set the pace, led the dance, taken the right steps at the right time.

Until now. Until her. Until Candace.

She had him twisted inside out and upside down, not knowing what to do or say next. He didn’t know whether to resist or keep on fighting. Part of him wished she’d never shown up at Buddy’s house, and another part dreaded the day she would leave.

“God, what a mess,” he muttered that evening as he finished taking inventory in the wine cellar. He hadn’t even realized there was one in the house until today, when he’d gone to visit Buddy in the rehab center. He’d watched for Candace to leave the room, heading to the cafeteria for lunch, and then stopped by, not wanting to run into her after what had happened this morning. Coming face-to-face with her would have been more than his heart could have taken, even a couple of hours after she’d marched her bare little fanny up the stairs.

No, not little. Round, supple, perfect.

Just right for cupping in his hands, or pounding against as he took her from behind, the way he’d been dying to as he’d watched her sashay back to her room.

He swallowed hard, wishing he hadn’t allowed himself to go back there in his mind. He’d managed to avoid thinking about her most of the day, but now the images came washing in. He was again overwhelmed by the memory of the gorgeous, naked ass she’d flashed at him as she’d ascended the stairs. He suspected he would keep seeing that vision for a long while, every time he closed his eyes. “You’re a complete idiot,” he muttered to himself. “You’re the one who insisted she walk up the stairs while you stood there like Pavlov’s dog, drowning in your own drool.”

To give her credit, she had tried to warn him. No, she hadn’t come right out and told him what would happen—that he was about to be given a free peep show that would drive a grown man to his knees. And he suspected his own stubbornness had inspired hers. Still, he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her for showing him what he could have had, if not for his own foul temper and his need to keep punishing himself by not taking anything he truly wanted. Being noble was all well and good, but if it came with blue balls, he’d far prefer being selfish.

“Enough,” he reminded himself, trying to return his focus to the task at hand. The wine cellar. He still couldn’t believe it was here, or that it held so much.

Buddy had found a treasure trove in the basement right before his accident, one he hadn’t even realized was there until he’d started trying out keys to locked rooms. That’s what had sent him hurrying down the porch steps to find Oliver. He’d intended to show it to Oliver and ask him to help inventory it.

Now that it looked like Buddy wouldn’t be doing any stair-climbing for a while, Oliver had promised he’d get started. Buddy had agreed gratefully, telling him to help himself to anything he found...unless it was worth a king’s ransom, in which case he would need it for his medical