“You’re thinking too much,” he said, and turned his head to kiss her bare belly.
His lips just whispered over her, but it was a brand. A hot brand. She froze. “Savage. You can’t do that. I mean it. If we’re friends, you have to behave.”
“I don’t even know what that fuckin’ word means.” He turned his head, rubbing his face against that little strip of skin showing between her tank and her shorts, as if nuzzling her stomach.
She could feel the scrape of the shadow along his jaw. “Go to sleep. I mean it. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Two things and then I promise I’ll be quiet.”
She sighed and closed her eyes, her palm cupping the back of his head as he lay on her. “Just tell me. You’re not going to shut up until you get your way.”
“First, you’re coming on Thursday to audition with the band. I don’t want you to let them down on my account. Second, they’ll offer you the gig, because you sing like a fuckin’ angel. No one in their right mind would let you go. The money will be right and it’s close to home. If you want to earn more, they’ll offer you a bartending job.”
“How would you know if I can bartend?”
“The members of the band found out as much as they could about you. You were a waitress and then a bartender. Sometimes both. You don’t want to work the bar, then you could waitress for Alena. She’s got her restaurant opened and it’s always packed. So, plenty of work if you want the money.”
“Savage, you’re backing me into a corner.”
“I know. I’m good at that shit.”
His hand had slid down her thigh again, massaging the scars there. The sensation of his warm palm sent little darts of fire through her body. At the same time a shiver of awareness crept down her spine and fingers of desire danced their way up her thigh.
Did he know what he was doing? She doubted it. How could he know her reaction to just his light touch? He was rubbing her leg the way she massaged his head. Being sweet. But . . . he wasn’t sweet. Savage wasn’t the kind of man to do anything without purpose. He was very, very experienced in all things sexual. He knew she was physically attracted to him.
Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him and nearly shoved him off the bed, but then she realized he had gone to sleep. Just like that. Silently. He didn’t snore. He didn’t make a single sound. He just fell asleep, his breath coming and going from his lungs evenly.
Seychelle lay staring at the wall, her hand on his head, her heart pounding nearly as loud as the waves booming as they hit the cliffs.
FOUR
Seychelle pulled her Mini Cooper into the space allotted for parking in what was supposed to pass for the entrance to the garage at Doris Fendris’s little home. Doris lived on one of the well-kept back streets of Sea Haven. The Victorian-styled houses had small but beautifully manicured yards surrounded by little fences overgrown with flowering hedges. Seychelle was very grateful for her choice of car and her ability to maneuver into small areas. For some unexplained reason, even the garage and space in front of the garage were tiny.
Of all the people she tended to visit on a regular basis, Doris was probably her favorite, because she was always upbeat. Her house smelled like fresh-baked cookies and it was always clean. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming. The porch was badly in need of repair, especially the front stairs. Seychelle carried her tools in the trunk of her car all the time. She wasn’t the handiest with them yet, but she was learning. She’d discovered she could find tutorials on just about anything on YouTube, and she visited the website regularly.
She’d purchased nails and a few other items she thought she’d need, but really, Doris needed the wood on her entire front porch replaced. Seychelle wasn’t quite up to replacing a porch yet. She’d bought the proper lengths of already cut wood necessary for the stairs, and then stained and sealed them herself. She thought she could pull up the old stairs and replace the boards with the new ones. She really hoped whatever the top boards sat on wasn’t rotted as she feared it might be.
She needed to keep herself busy. The moment she stopped, her mind went straight to Savage, which wasn’t a good thing. She thought about him far too much. She thought about the way his body felt next to hers and the way his hand felt crashing down on her nearly bare bottom. Long walks didn’t wear her out, and she didn’t sleep most nights. She hadn’t gone to the club Thursday night because she knew Savage would be there and she’d be too tempted to take the job just to stay connected to him.