Lauren Dane

Whiskey Sharp: Torn


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him to grab a handful.

      “I liked it. Food, a pretty girl and a huge bag of fresh vegetables to go with a thousand pumpkins make for a pretty enjoyable outing. Thanks for bringing me along.”

      “Probably less than a thousand. I’m all about new experiences,” she teased, undeniably pleased that he’d apparently enjoyed their day. “Next up is decoration. I pulled the Halloween boxes out of my crawl space and I’ve got a general idea and some notes.”

      “Notes? Crawl space? I feel like such a newbie to the Halloween decoration game.”

      “Remember I just told you about how I was all about new experiences? Anyway, you’ll be there making me food, which is like, way more important than stringing lights and helping me create the super spider lair.”

      “Super spider lair, huh? Okay, I’m game. I’ll make tacos while you get to super lair creating.”

      “Tacos? This day keeps getting better.”

      They listened to music all the way back up north to her place, where he then helped her carry all those pumpkins to her porch.

      “I’m on call for you if you need anything heavy moved or whatever. Just yell, okay?” he told her.

      “Thanks,” she said before he gave her a kiss and allowed her to watch him walk back into her house looking all hot and tasty.

      Once he’d gone, she began to set her porch to dark, spooky fun with spiders tucked all around. Some with glowing red eyes. A few with realistic-looking bristles on all eight legs. And at the end, she installed the ones on motion-detected triggers that would have them dropping from the ceiling or jumping across a trick-or-treater’s path.

      After that she strung all the lights and draped the fake spiderweb, giggling to herself as she thought about all the scary fun she was creating.

      All while she peeked through her front window and watched him in her kitchen. He moved like magic. All to his own rhythm. He cooked like he was totally, utterly sure of himself.

       Sexy as fuck.

      And he wanted to spend time with her.

      If he’d been smooth about it, or calculated, she could have just let it be a fun fling. But he wanted to go to a gallery event. Not to buy art. Not to meet artists. He didn’t need her for that. No, it was about her.

      No one could have ever described to her just what it would feel like to have someone focus on her like that. Put all their attention, attraction and ability into her. It was by turns flattering, confusing and thrilling.

      He looked up from where he’d been sautéing something at the stove and met her gaze. A startled smile broke over his mouth and holy shit he was just stupid gorgeous.

      All points south of her eyes stood at attention.

      She smirked at him, letting him see that she was done with the spider lair and was coming inside.

      “Damn, you make me sassy,” she said once she’d put away her tools and the boxes were back in the crawl space.

      He leaned back, resting his butt on the counter behind him, crossing those fine legs as he looked her up and down. “That so? And how do I make you sassy? Seems to me, you were sassy when I got here.”

      Laughing, she swaggered over, pausing just a foot away. “That’s a fair point. You make me sassier. The way you look at me sometimes just revs me up. Makes me feel all sexy and goddess-like and stuff.”

      “You are sexy.” He all but growled it.

      She let out a shuddering breath.

      “Food and then.” He lifted one shoulder and sent her a smoldering leer.

      If he weren’t a chef who’d just spent all that time and effort cooking for her, she’d have jumped on him right then.

      “Oh, you mean after we carve the pumpkins?” she teased.

      He grabbed her, yanking her to him. “The idea of you with a knife is alarmingly arousing.”

      Cora would have laughed, but he bent to kiss her before she could, stealing her breath for a moment.

      By the time she managed to gather her wits, he’d broken away, again wearing that sexy smile of his.

      “Lunch is ready, my spider queen.”

      “I’ll set the table,” she told him after clearing her throat.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      In my kingdom I will rule

      as the ocean foams at my feet

      and the birds do my bidding.

      “OH MY GOD. How did you manage to make this taste so good?”

      Cora hoped she didn’t sound like she was having an orgasm while eating a shrimp taco, but she sort of was. “At first I thought it was the crema. Because the lime and avocado are so perfect together. But now I’m leaning toward the cabbage slaw type thing on top. The sweet hot tang of it is my favorite thing right at this moment.”

      “You’re irresistible when you love my food. And you haven’t even had the pork yet.”

      The pork had mangos and red onions and had her seriously considering licking the plate at the end. The most unexpectedly delicious was the veggie taco with roasted eggplant and mushrooms with a tomatillo salsa.

      She pushed back from the table with a happy sigh. “It’s not even one in the afternoon and I’ve had a great day.”

      “When do you need to be at the gallery?” he murmured, taking her plate so he could get closer.

      “Are you going to make my day even better?” Cora asked, turning so they were nose to nose.

      “Oh yes. Yes I am. I just need a timeline so I can plan accordingly.”

      “I really like the sound of that. I need to get down there by three. It’s a ten-minute walk from here so we’ve got some time. We can always carve pumpkins another day.”

      “I like your priorities,” he told her, pulling her to her feet.

      Three steps toward her room and she found herself pressed against the wall, the full length and hardness of him weighted, holding her in place.

      Desire had been simmering in her belly but now, as he licked over her earlobe, and then nibbled down her neck, it burned inferno hot.

      She hung on as he continued to feast on her throat, as his hands rucked up her sweater, spreading more heat against her belly where he brushed his fingertips.

      Why was she wearing pants? From now on, she needed to wear skirts when she was going to be alone with him. For easy access.

      She nearly laughed but that was before he pulled the sweater up and off, leaving her there in her bra, the cool surface of the wall a counter to the heat of him.

      All she wanted was him. On her. In her. All around her. That sort of focus was something she only usually had for art. But this? He filled her with so much naked greed it surprised her.

      She struggled momentarily with his button and zipper, but then, with a groan, she grabbed his cock. In both hands.

      He snarled, spinning them a few times until they burst through the half-open door of her bedroom, nearly taking them both to the floor as she tripped over several pairs of shoes she’d left out.

      Laughing, he heaved her up and then onto her bed. She managed to pull her jeans and panties off as he got his jeans and shirt off.

      She paused, hands at the hooks of her bra as she took him in. His eyes were glazed slightly, drunk on hormones and sex. His upper body was so much better than any of the pictures she’d seen in magazines or on television.

      She