Candlelight Conspiracy Read online

  “Oh, God, Sophie.”

  The warm rumble of his voice reverberated through her body, and she nearly lost control. He leaned forward, touching their bodies, and she reached to hold him, her hands rubbing, grasping, and tightening. Their pace quickened as he kissed her with an urgency she’d never known before. Her head shot back, and he kissed her neck, then bit and circled the area with his tongue.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “More.”

  His lips found hers before her mind blanked and her body took over, succumbing to every ounce of pleasure Marc offered. She felt him everywhere, in all the right spots, as waves of her release started to pound in her ears and washed over her body in sweet, sweet pulses.

  “Sophie,” he cried as he climaxed, holding her tighter.

  They crashed into one another, and she held his back tightly, her nails digging into his skin. As the last of the satisfaction subsided, he kissed her lips, tenderly, sweetly. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him, only able to make out the chiseled shape of his face.

  Amazing.

  They moved on the bed, back to where his pillows lay, and he hugged her to him.

  “My new favorite thing in this world is when the power goes out,” he said as he kissed her temple.

  She couldn’t help but laugh. And agree. Power or no power, they were going to make love all night long.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Marc rubbed his fingertips over the ripples of Sophie’s ribs in the still darkness. He was still happily catching his breath from their incredible lovemaking. “What are some of your favorite desserts?” His favorite treat right now was skin-on-skin contact with Sophie.

  She arched her head from her perch on his chest. “Dessert?”

  “So I can make sure to have them made to bribe you into singing for me more often.”

  She smiled lazily, and he kissed her forehead.

  “You can make me dessert”—she placed a tender kiss just under his collarbone—“or whatever, anytime.”

  She better be careful what she wished for because he wouldn’t mind cooking for her morning, noon, and night. There was a charm about her, a strength he’d never noticed in passing by her for months. Until now. Now, all he could see were the ways in which she was beautiful, and the ways in which he wanted to delight her and himself with her. There was no way he was letting her out of his bed anytime soon. If one night was all he was going to get, then he was going to make it the longest.

  “Do you have pictures in here? I can’t tell,” she asked, as she rubbed her leg that rested on his along his thigh.

  “You want to see pictures?”

  “There are no personal pictures in your apartment. At all. I know you’ve sworn off Facebook, but what about your family?”

  He liked his dessert talk a lot better than family questions—answering those while naked, and in bed, didn’t feel sexy. He took a deep breath before realizing she was lying on his chest and could feel his hesitation and discomfort.

  “Sorry, if it’s a heavy subject … ” Her body tensed.

  “No, no, I just don’t have an opportunity to talk a lot about my family.” He squeezed her closer to him, not wanting her to pull away. Her arm slid over his stomach, and he closed his eyes at the pleasure of her soft touch. “My dad and sister live in Tacoma.”

  “Have they visited you out here?”

  “Not yet. Maybe this year, though.”

  “And your mom?” she whispered cautiously.

  “Split when we were young. No idea where she is.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s okay. I barely remember her, and my dad did a great job raising me and Reagan. And I do have pictures of them on my dresser over there.” He pointed to the dresser even though he knew she couldn’t see.

  “Do you miss them?”

  He moved his free hand to intertwine his fingers with hers, which lay across his body. “I catch up here and there. Reagan’s easier because she texts.”

  “Ah, yes, good old texting.”

  “Not a fan?” He smiled into the darkness.

  “Yes and no. It’s quicker, I will admit that, but things can get lost in translation. I like to look someone in the eyes.”

  “When possible, it’s always the best.” His thumb caressed hers, and she kissed his chest again.

  “What about you? Any family you keep in touch with?”

  He already knew her parents were a touchy subject, one he was still surprised she shared with him, but she could have more family out there. And he didn’t want to be the only one naked and revealing.

  “I have pictures of my parents up in my living room. I have an aunt, uncle, and cousin in Cheyenne.”

  “Are you close?”

  “Not really. I have my band and Candace. She owns Kiss From a Rose, the flower shop I work at.”

  “Quality, not quantity.”

  “Exactly.”

  In the darkness, his other senses were heightened. He could feel her breath, he could hear her fill her lungs, he could smell her coconut conditioner.

  “Alrighty, Ms. Questions, what else you got?”

  “Have you dated anyone since you moved here?”

  “Nope.”

  Crap, now he had two choices: it would be fairly easy to hold back from her, or he could tell her the truth. There was a chance their paths would never cross like this again. He hoped it was a slim chance, though.

  There was so much more to learn about Sophie and more he wanted to tell her. Sharing secrets with a near stranger was almost easier than telling the people you knew loved you. Not even his dad and sister knew the real story behind the breakup with Felicia. They assumed it was he who’d gotten cold feet, called it off, and ran away. He’d never corrected them. The fake story was simple—giving him license to move and start again without feeling bad, or them making him feel bad.

  He spoke in one swift sentence, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I was engaged once.”

  “Really?”

  “We dated for three years and broke up two days before the wedding.” There went another Band-Aid.

  “Whoa. You don’t hear of that happening every day.” She squeezed his hand but didn’t pull away.

  “Nope. And, I assure you, it’s not as awesome as it sounds.” His heartbeat was practically in her ear, so he thought of his family’s cabin in the Tacoma woods to calm himself. Felicia wasn’t exactly his favorite topic. He didn’t want Sophie to move, but he was at a distinct disadvantage.

  “Sounds like a royal mess. Were you the heartbreaker or heart-breakee?”

  I was the ass who didn’t pay attention to her. He didn’t want to ever make that mistake again. Which was why he wasn’t going to date anyone until he could actually make time for them.

  “Little of both, I suppose.”

  “That is how those things usually go—well, that’s a best-case scenario probably. What happened?” she asked.

  “She figured out there was something missing. I’d coasted, and it wasn’t fair to her.” Better to be honest with Sophie, let her know exactly what kind of guy he was and what it was like dating him rather than letting her find out the hard way later. Not that she wanted to actually date him; they’d been on that same page before the bedroom.

  “So she’s the one who called off her own, probably already planned-down-to-the-last-Jordan-almond wedding? Brave.”

  “I see you’ve taken her side.” He reached down and tapped Sophie’s ass with his palm.

  “No.” She laughed. “Just observing that wouldn’t have been an easy call to make. It would’ve been almost easier just to go through with it at that point.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t.”

  Her light breath skimmed the tender skin of his chest, causing goose bumps on his arms. Even though the current topic wasn’t his favorite, he liked lying in bed talking with Sophie. He liked doing a lot of things with her and had more planned for the night. Power outage or not.

  “Is that why you’
re here and don’t keep in contact with people from your old life?”

  Old life. The term struck hard. She implied he’d made a new life here, in Casper, with his restaurant. And he really had. Putting his head down for so long, he’d actually created a life for himself—one where he worked all the time toward a solitary goal he was solidly achieving. The restaurant was doing well and gaining ground, and Kurt, his front-of-house manager, had everything under control. Maybe the new life needs a little more Sophie in it.

  “I didn’t have a lot of people to keep in contact with. I’m focused and don’t need a lot of distraction; some friends wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want to justify anything to anyone.”

  “Can’t they see you’re living your dream and be supportive?”

  He actually liked having Sophie ask him questions—maybe he’d been in his self-imposed solitude for too long. After the restaurant was at a comfortable point, he’d get back into the dating scene. “I had a restaurant in Tacoma before I left.”

  “Why’d you leave that behind? I thought this was your first one.”

  “This is my first place by myself. I opened the other one with my ex’s father.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. He bought me out, and I used that money, all I have, to start Sizzo’s. I don’t want to fail. I can’t.”

  This time around, he’d never have to give up his hard work. Sizzo’s was all his. If he didn’t work hard enough to make the restaurant a success then that was on him, but he’d never again have to walk away. He let his gaze wander over the curves of Sophie’s naked body. This was precisely why he’d made his no-friends and no-dating rules when he’d moved. He needed to stay on track. Ah, hell. He hated when what he needed and wanted were not the same. Don’t think about the restaurant tonight.

  “I thought we’d moved past that.” She playfully tapped his ribs. “I’m sure you won’t fail, but if you do it’s okay, because then you’ll learn and do better next time.”

  “This is my next time.” He smelled her hair. The fruity scent relaxed his entire body, and suddenly his bed was the most comfortable it had ever been. He never wanted to leave.

  “So whatever happened to Felicia?”

  He laughed to himself. Women were so territorial. Also, it was a bit of a weird time to be talking about ex-lovers. Sophie was surprising—hopefully that would never change.

  “I’ve not spoken to her since she called off the wedding.” He unlaced his fingers with hers, reached for a lighter on his nightstand, and lit the candle by his bedside. He wanted to see her better. “Isn’t this the point I get to ask you questions again?”

  “Go for it.” She nestled back into him, pressing her skin against his side.

  “How do you write a song?”

  “It starts with an idea or a line or a melody. It just sort of happens. I mean, I have to make it happen. But once I get into the groove, lyrics or music usually flow.”

  “I thought it’d be more scientific.”

  “Like a recipe?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s more about heart. Feeling.”

  She ran her fingertips up his arm and over his jawline. His skin started to tingle; Sophie created a want like nothing he’d ever felt before.

  “What inspired your new song?” He was fishing and it was pathetic, but he had to know. Can I be your muse?

  She shifted and looked past him to the flame. “Candlelight.”

  He stared at the flickering flame, too. Makes sense. The fire was sensual. He could see that. He’d be happier, though, if she’s said him or them. Was what they were experiencing even real, and did she feel it, too? Sophie equaled complication—adding her to his life on a full-time basis would take away time from the restaurant, from his dream. Yep, Sophie was a concern.

  He swiveled his head back to Sophie, and her beautiful brown eyes searched his. He leaned in, eyes open, and kissed her. For a moment, she didn’t close her eyes, and it was the sexiest act. Then her bright eyes slowly drifted closed at his full embrace; he watched the need flow through her skin and felt it in his lips. She rolled flush onto his body and, with a visceral need deep in his core, he gave in and closed his eyes, breathing her in.

  She spread her legs over his lower abdomen. She cupped his neck and jaw as he wrapped his hands around the back of her thighs. He could feel her all over; the sensation of her skin covering his was intoxicating.

  Her hand slid down his stomach, and his breath caught as she wrapped her hands around him, guiding him into her. Slowly, she moved, pulling up the length of him before sweetly, slowly, sliding back down. His mind kicked into overdrive with a vengeance—how good she felt, the thrill of each second, the ways in which he needed her.

  Sophie was sex on a stick, and he was lucky enough to be the stick. She moved her lips down his neck and licked the line of his collarbone.

  She was testing his patience—toying with him—and it was making him harder than ever. Like a miracle, Sophie moved faster, and he leaned up to be closer, to consume her.

  She sat up and rocked her hips on his, driving him deeper. The light from the candle danced around the room and shadowed her breasts and torso. He moved his palms tenderly up her tummy; cupping her breasts in his hands, he rose up to run his tongue along her nipple before taking it in his mouth.

  Tonight, he had Sophie, and she had him. He was going to make sure it was the best night of their lives.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Sophie closed her apartment door the next morning, pushing away the hope of bumping into Marc. Their night had been fantastic. Hell, the best she’d ever had. They’d agreed no strings, and she was perfectly willing to adhere to the pact. But something as titillating as they’d shared shouldn’t be experienced for only one night.

  As their night in each other’s arms progressed, the feelings intensified. Their connection became more than the need for sexual satisfaction. She could see it in his eyes, she felt it down deep in her soul. What they’d shared was special.

  Donning a short black dress, black leggings, red cardigan, and her favorite black riding boots, she ran a couple of errands before working on her lyrics. She could pop into Sizzo’s and get a bite to eat, but then he would probably consider her a stalker. She pressed her lips together and pouted internally. Rarely did she find herself in the position of wanting more out of a relationship. The one day she’d rather be at the flower shop than home alone trying to write songs would be today. Figured.

  Channel your feelings into lyrics. Use them.

  Her phone buzzed, and she smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hi, babe.” Candace’s cheery mood leapt through the phone.

  Sophie added a box of Cap’n Crunch to her basket at the corner grocery store. “I take it the staycation is going well.” With a sexy man like Luke, there wouldn’t be any other kind for Candace.

  “Very. I love the flower shop, but dang it’s nice to take a break.”

  “How was Christmas?”

  “Good. Little odd at first, but my parents are always like that. Are you getting songs written?”

  “Actually, yeah, a pretty good one. I mean, I think. I don’t know. It probably sucks. I haven’t slept well.” Sophie hunched over and reached up with her hand holding the basket to rub her temple. She needed a hot bath. And wine. She should definitely buy a bottle of wine.

  “What’s up? Thought that’s all you wanted to do—catch up on sleep and write.”

  She could feel Candace’s sudden concern.

  “There’s this guy … my neighbor.” My hot, sexy, blond neighbor who makes every single bit of me scream.

  “Did he finally say hi?”

  “Oh, ya know … yes.”

  Candace laughed. “Someone’s been having a good time.”

  Boy, had she ever. Such a good time she couldn’t remember what her life was like only a few short days ago when she wasn’t kissing Marc. She wished they were kissing right now. “Such a good time. But I don’t know. It’s a lot
all at once. And quick. Things have moved quickly.” Understatement of the year.

  “Aw, you have a case of the feels.”

  “Shut up. I do not.”

  “Uh, ya, you do. You wrote a song about this guy, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then what’s the problem? This seems like a great thing.”

  “It’s too … ”

  “You have to take a chance, Soph. I know it’s not easy.”

  “It usually ends up badly anyway. What’s the point?” Sophie asked. She seriously needed a good answer.

  There was always something missing—like the men she dated were a solid 90 percent of what she was looking for, but somehow they always missed the last, best 10 percent. So what was going to be missing from Marc? That was the question of the day.

  “Life. Living life. You’ll be miserable until you give him a try. Believe me, I know.”

  Just a short time ago Candace had found her own happily ever after, and she’d fought it tooth and nail. Sophie had witnessed her friend’s slow destruction and surrender, and it was the best thing in the world. “We’ll see.”

  “Just take it one step at a time. You don’t have to plan your entire life out today. But you owe it to yourself to see where it goes. You deserve to be happy, Soph.”

  “Thanks, Ace.”

  “And I’ll need some serious details next week.”

  Sophie chuckled. “We’ll see about that, too.”

  Sophie grabbed a bottle of wine to go with her cereal and checked out, deciding against Sizzo’s for lunch, and returned home after sufficiently crossing off items on her to-do list. She turned the corner from the stairs into the hallway and slowed. Marc was unlocking his door.