False Pretenses [Rod and Cane Society 2] Read online

  She shook her head.

  "Call him, then listen."

  "Jinx? Here, kitty! Jinx?"

  "Meow?"

  "JINX!” Emma pivoted in a circle. “I don't see him. JINX!"

  "Meow? MEOW.” The wails grew louder, and Dan tracked the noise to a nearby house, where the cat's cries seemed to emanate from beneath the cement. Dan moved closer and discovered the driveway crossed a drainage ditch, obscured by overgrown weeds. He stepped into the crevice and then dropped to his knees when he spotted the mouth of a culvert. Mud soaked through the fabric of his khakis to his skin.

  Crouched inside in the metal cylinder, a cat with unblinking yellow eyes stared at him. “Is your cat wearing a dark collar?” Dan glanced at Emma, who shifted from foot to foot.

  "He's there?” Hope lightened her voice.

  "He's here.” Dan rolled up his shirtsleeves. “Come on, kitty. Come on, Jinx,” he murmured and pulled the cat out of the culvert. Clutching the animal to his chest, he stood up. Jinx weighed every bit of sixteen pounds. Emma might have even underestimated his bulk. Stickers and other brambles clung to his ginger fur, which was streaked with dirt. The cat's paws pressed muddy prints onto Dan's white shirt and the skin exposed by his open collar and rolled sleeves.

  "Thank you!” Emma face lit up, and she held out her arms.

  Dan regarded her pristine jacket. “Why don't I carry him? There's no sense both of us getting dirty."

  She eyed his muddy shirt and pants and twisted her mouth ruefully. “Maybe you'd like to wash up a bit inside? And send me the cleaning bill for your clothing."

  "Don't worry about the clothes.” He waved aside her offer to pay. “But I wouldn't mind using your bathroom. I carry a change of clothing with me for emergencies like this."

  Emma kissed a clean spot on the cat's head. “You're a naughty kitty. Very naughty kitty."

  Her fresh, womanly scent stirred his libido, and Dan considered pointing out his clean spots. But he wouldn't be satisfied with a peck on the forehead.

  "Do you have many emergencies?” Emma motioned, and they ambled toward her house.

  "No.” Dan shook his head. “Jinx is my first cat rescue. But I've had dogs with dirty feet jump on me, I've sat in wet paint that wasn't marked, and opened attic doors and been coated with decades of dust."

  Emma pushed her glasses up on her cute nose and treated him to a dazzling smile. “I'm grateful for your help. I didn't hear him meow. If you hadn't been here, I would have walked right by. I have to thank you in some way."

  "Have dinner with me tomorrow night.” Dan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He didn't want this unexpected meeting to be the last time he saw her.

  She widened her eyes with surprise, but a flicker of pleasure flashed across her face. Their gazes locked. She nodded. “I'd like that.” Emma curved her mouth into a smile that tugged at his heart. Would her lips be as soft as they looked? How would they feel wrapped about his cock? Would he be rushing it if he kissed her now?

  "Meow.” Jinx squirmed, butting Dan's chin as if to say too soon, buddy.

  "I'm surprised Jinx is letting you hold him. He doesn't usually warm to strangers, men in particular. He hated Ron."

  "Ron?"

  "My ex-boyfriend."

  "It's my animal magnetism.” Dan grinned and stroked the cat's dirty fur.

  She laughed, a husky sound that immediately made him wonder what kinds of noises she would make in the throes of passion. Emma resumed walking, and Dan let her get a few steps ahead so he could enjoy of the sway of her denim-covered derriere. If ever an ass invited a spanking, hers did. But he needed to stop staring at her before she caught him and had second thoughts about going out with him. He assumed his place beside her.

  HE ASKED ME out. He asked me out! Pleasure fluttered in Emma's stomach. Her offer to let him clean up hadn't been motivated solely by gratitude; she'd wanted to extend her time with him. Perhaps as a modern woman, she should have asked him on a date, the way her mother had done with her father, but Emma wasn't that bold. Women taking charge sounded good in theory, but sometimes she wanted the man to be, well, the man.

  She sneaked a glance at Dan. He was every inch that, for sure.

  He wasn't overly tall, perhaps a hair under six feet, but he towered over her, and while Emma normally dated shorter men closer to her height, she found, to her amazement, that she enjoyed looking up at Dan. Summer, her mother, would be horrified to contemplate her daughter relishing such an archaic thought, but that wouldn't be the first secret Emma had kept from her.

  She enjoyed the flex of muscles in Dan's strong forearms as he carried Jinx as if he was no bigger than a kitten. His blond hair, a shade darker than her own, was thick and mussed, and she itched to smooth it into place—then mess it up again.

  And what a sexy voice he had. As worried as she'd been about Jinx, she couldn't halt the arousal his baritone rumble stirred. Who knew the words “here, kitty” could be so sexy? He wasn't talking about that kind of pussy! But hers was getting wet. It was too soon to feel this way about a stranger—even if he was incredibly nice and had dimples that deepened in his cheeks when he grinned his slightly crooked smile. That little imperfection made him even more attractive. He'd laugh, and all she could think about was how his mouth might feel on hers.

  Okay, that wasn't all she could think about. But the rest was totally inappropriate given the shortness of their acquaintanceship. Jeez. You'd think she was totally sex deprived. Sure, it had been a while since she'd rolled between the sheets with a flesh-and-blood man, but her trusty vibrator took the edge off, so why was her body responding like she was a starving woman loading her plate at an all-you-could-eat buffet?

  Her nostrils flared as she inhaled Dan's smell, a woodsy, masculine soap scent mingled with 100-proof testosterone—a heady cocktail that beckoned her to release her inhibitions. She also detected a trace of sour mud and stagnant water, but she liked that too. It impressed her that Dan hadn't hesitated to crawl into the ditch to rescue Jinx.

  They reached his SUV, and he handed her the keys so she could retrieve a duffel bag from the trunk. He slung it over his shoulder and resettled the cat in the crook of his arm.

  "Thank you again for your help with Jinx,” she said.

  "You're welcome. It was my pleasure."

  "Are you married?” The question just shot out of her. Mentally Emma slapped herself for her lack of finesse, but she needed to know. She'd assumed he was single, but a girl couldn't tell for sure. At thirty-three, she'd been dating a long time, and she'd gone out with a few men whose commitments conveniently slipped their minds. Dan didn't wear a wedding band, but rings came off easily, and some men didn't wear them at all.

  "No. And I'm not involved with anyone. You?"

  She respected his direct answer. “No. No husband. No boyfriend,” she responded.

  "Good.” He flashed his teeth.

  That smile. Those dimples. Down, girl. She grinned foolishly as she peered up at him. Compared to her modest height, he seemed tall, and she wondered how awkward it would be when they kissed. When? She was getting ahead of herself. If. She meant if.

  Emma shifted her focus to Jinx. Cradled against Dan's broad chest, her cat appeared, if not small, less huge. Dan stroked the animal gently with his big hands, and Jinx ate it up, purring blissfully. Her stomach somersaulted. Dan was built more like a construction worker or a firefighter than a paper-pushing real estate agent, and watching such a well-built, masculine man act with tenderness sent her libido soaring.

  "So you sell real estate.” Emma tore her gaze away from his hands and tried not to wonder if the correlation between large hands and other anatomical parts was true.

  "Yeah. I'm the broker. I own the agency."

  Emma nodded. “That explains the name of the company.” The card he'd given her had read Tanner Real Estate.

  "Not very original or creative, I'm afraid."

  "It works.” Seeing the TANNER REAL ESTATE signs around town w
as probably what had made his name sound familiar. The moment he'd introduced himself, she'd gotten the feeling she knew the name from somewhere.

  They reached her house, and Emma stopped. “This is me. My house, I mean."

  She'd painted the exterior of her home cream with brown trim. A cheery red door splashed color at the entry, as did a couple of large ceramic planters filled with a profusion of flowers.

  "Cute. Nice curb appeal,” he said.

  His gaze drifted to her lips, and Emma's breath caught in her throat. She didn't kiss strangers. But of course, Dan wasn't a stranger. She considered him a new acquaintance, who'd rescued her cat. A hero. A hero with whom she had a date. Who needed to use her bathroom.

  "Come on in,” she said.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Three

  While Dan showered, Emma deposited the unneeded cat food back in the kitchen and removed her hoodie. With a rag, she wiped the dried mud off Jinx. Dan had been so nice, so chivalrous to assist her, and he'd ruined his clothes in the process.

  Those clothes were probably in a heap on her floor while Dan stood naked as water sluiced down his chest, his back, his thighs. The soap suds would be...practically nonexistent because she'd forgotten to replace the bar; only a sliver remained. There was a bottle of her body wash in the shower, but men preferred soap, didn't they?

  Emma bit her lip. Should she knock on the door and offer to replace the soap, or figure he'd find it in bathroom cabinet on his own? What if he didn't?

  "I can't let him shower without soap, can I?” Emma looked to Jinx for answers.

  "Meow,” Jinx concurred.

  Dan didn't respond to her tentative knock, and she realized he probably couldn't hear over the rushing water.

  She beat harder on the door. “Dan?"

  "Emma?” he answered this time.

  "Do you need soap?” she yelled.

  "What?"

  "Soap! I think you're out of soap."

  "I can't hear you,” he called. “Come in."

  Emma gulped and entered the bathroom. Her glasses fogged from the steam and blinded her, but her imagination colored in the details. She shut the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding.

  "There's another bar of soap in the cabinet.” Emma pointed in the direction of the linen closet.

  "Could you hand it to me so I won't drip all over your floor?"

  "Sure.” She tried to sound unmoved, attempted to fool herself into believing the heat infusing her body from the roots of her hair to her toes was the result of the steam and not because a man she couldn't even see aroused her.

  She removed her fogged glasses so she could find the soap. Bar in hand, heart in throat, she turned. Nearsightedness fuzzed her vision, but she could tell Dan was peering at her through a spot he'd wiped clear on the misted glass door.

  His wide shoulders took up most of the sizable enclosure, and water had darkened his blond hair to light brown. She seemed to have grown all thumbs, making it a struggle to unwrap the soap, but finally she managed to tear off the paper. She flung it in the direction of the wastebasket. She had to leave before she did something stupid, like offer to wash his back. Or his chest. Or his cock. Her pussy let down a surge of wetness.

  She inched closer to the shower. “Here you go,” she squeaked.

  "Thank you.” He opened the glass door. Steam rolled out, and Emma's knees weakened, along with her resistance. He was gorgeous—broad in shoulder and chest, narrow in hip, and marvelously aroused. His erection jutted out from a thatch of curly dark blond pubic hair and proved that, in his case, a correlation did exist between the size of a man's hands and his cock. Her breath hitched.

  Dan conducted his own perusal, lingering on her breasts, making Emma conscious of the way her nipples tented the thin cotton of her T-shirt.

  Instead of taking the soap as she'd expected, he closed his hand around her forearm and caressed the underside of her wrist, igniting tingles that radiated through her body. Steam filled the room, but it was desire that caused perspiration to dew on her skin.

  "Why don't you join me?” His heated gaze indicated his invitation encompassed more than showering.

  Prudence battled with lust, and Emma started to shake. “I—uh... It wouldn't be..."

  "It wouldn't be...?” He raised his eyebrows.

  "I don't normally do this sort of thing.” She'd never done this sort of thing.

  "Neither do I,” he said.

  She stared at his hand still grasping her wrist. He applied no pressure, but lightly caressed her skin, setting her nerve endings ablaze. Her life had been consumed by work, both by her current job and the career she was trying to build. She was entitled to let loose, to indulge herself once in a while, wasn't she?

  "I guess I could wash your back.” She tossed her glasses onto the vanity and toed off her sneakers.

  DAN HAULED EMMA into the shower before she could change her mind. She shrieked then laughed as the water soaked through her clothing, plastering her T-shirt against her body, further showcasing her hard nipples. He'd pictured those nipples, her breasts, and her fantastic ass the whole time he'd been in the shower, smelling the scent of her shampoos, body wash, and other feminine perfumey things. He'd envisioned her naked, wet, receptive body sliding against his. He couldn't believe his luck when she knocked.

  Dan bent his head and inhaled her breath as his own, sucking in the sweetness of her scent, before grazing her mouth with his. Emma parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside to taste her. Honey, spice, and sex filled his senses, and he groaned. She dropped the bar of soap, flattened her palms against his chest, and explored his skin as if she'd been longing to caress him as much as he'd wanted to touch her.

  He tugged at the hem of her sodden T-shirt, and Emma pulled back slightly to allow him to pull it over her head. Her full breasts filled her lacy bra, the dusky rose tips nearly popping over the top. Her skin was freckled, and Dan imagined hours of fun playing connect-the-dots with his tongue. He thumbed her nipples, rubbing them through the lace, and they hardened more.

  "You're so beautiful,” he said.

  "So are you.” Her gaze traveled from his face to his cock and back up again. She curved her lips in a smile of pure seduction and unzipped her jeans.

  Her little grin faded into lip-biting frustration when her wet denim fought her efforts to shimmy out of it.

  Dan chuckled.

  "You could help me,” she groused.

  "I was enjoying the dance,” he said but knelt and yanked her jeans to her ankles. She kicked the pants and her T-shirt to a corner of the shower. Like her bra, her tiny sheer white lace thong revealed more than it protected. Beneath the fabric he spied tantalizing trimmed blonde curls. He took advantage of his position to kiss her mons through the lace while he palmed her luscious buttocks.

  "Perfect fit,” he growled.

  "What did you say?” She stroked his wet hair.

  "Your ass fits perfectly in my hands."

  "You're an ass man, are you?” Amusement glinted in her eyes.

  Dan was attracted to her—all of her—but yes, he was an ass man. How could he not be when her heart-shaped contours were so round, so firm, so smooth? His breath lodged in his throat when she twisted around and jiggled her backside. Her playful taunt made him itch to smack her ass.

  Except he had no idea if Emma enjoyed being spanked, and he needed to feel her out first. Nothing derailed a sexual relationship faster than a miscued slap to the butt cheek. He'd learned that the hard way.

  Dan pressed a kiss to each of Emma's ass cheeks, then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her thong, pulled the scrap down her legs, and flung it on top of the pile of wet clothing. After rising to his feet and unhooking her bra, he curved his hands over her abdomen and hauled her against his hard-on. He exulted in the feel of her nestled against his cock, imagining her butt up over the bed's edge, her springing up on tiptoe to receive his open palm.

  He growled and cu
pped her breasts. Pretty nice too, he thought, as he kneaded her flesh. Damn nice. But what about her wasn't? He rolled a nipple between his fingers, and Emma whimpered and arched, flattening her breasts against his palm and her ass against his cock.

  "You like that,” he said.

  "Only a lot.” Emma wiggled, instinctively teasing.

  He played with her nipples, learning from her whimpers and sighs what she liked, then eased his hand over her smooth stomach to the V of curls and lower. A wetness not caused by the water slickened his fingers. Emma widened her stance, and he circled the nerve center, then dipped inside her pussy.

  He finger fucked her, and she mewled. He liked how she expressed her pleasure vocally. When he drew more circles over her engorged clit, she rocked against his hand, the motion bumping her ass against his cock.

  She lolled her head on his shoulder. “I thought...I thought you wanted me to wash your back,” she moaned.

  "No, you wanted to wash my back,” he corrected her. “I wanted to do exactly what I'm doing. But have it your way.” He released her and snatched up the soap.

  Emma spun around to face him. Desire flushed her chest pink, and her hard nipples stood at rapt attention. Her eyes appeared huge in her face, and her freckled nose begged for a kiss, as did her parted pink lips. She was half girl next door, half sexpot, which made her all the more alluring.

  "Here. Have at it.” He thrust the bar of soap into her hands, grasped her shoulders, and shifted her to stand under the spray while he presented his back.

  She smoothed her lathered hands across his shoulders, down his spine, and over his ass. She washed him slowly, thoroughly, scrubbing with gentle circles before pressing her breasts against his back and sliding against his skin. Desire thrummed through him, then rocketed when she reached for his cock. He inhaled. “That's not my back."

  "I'm giving you the deluxe wash.” She traced the ridge around his cockhead, then squeezed his shaft, moving her fingers in a sure upward and downward motion, until pleasure pulsed at the base of his cock. He could feel his control slipping from his hands into hers.