Man Candy
by Rena Marks
Coming 10/31/08 from Ellora's Cave
Author’s note: Man Candy follows Play Thing, released one month afterward, yet can be read as a stand-alone.
Ivory Scott owns a bar. She’s the sister of Silver and Scarlett Scott, one of three witches who can control a man with his own birthstone. Ivory doesn’t use her natural gifts, preferring to call herself a psychic and help local law enforcement. When her sister Scarlett calls to warn her of a serial killer in the city, she also points her in the direction of his next victim, Rachel Jolie.
Ivory knows there’s a man predestined to save Rachel and finds him by luring Rachel to work in her bar. Dr. Randall Reed is drowning his sorrows when he can’t save the victims he works on in the hospital. The two are magnetically drawn together, but find tougher issues arise in their highly sexual relationship. Randy has bitterness and trust problems from the past, an ex-girlfriend who just wanted to be with him for his race and color. Finding her cheating on him gives him fears of having his girlfriend with another. But he’ll have to learn to trust enough to enjoy a threesome, Rachel’s hidden fantasy.
Excerpt
Rachel was exhausted, but the night was nearly over. She had to keep going until closing. The highlight of the night was here, the end-which meant the intoxicated were happy. Happy meant generous with payment for her services now. She was the tiniest bit vexed when her boss beckoned her over again, keeping her from the all important, last-minute tips.
"Rae, I need you to give the doctor a ride home. I overserved."
Everyone in the liquor industry knew the consequences of overserving. It was unlike Ivory to be so irresponsible and then shove it off onto another.
"You have got to be kidding me," Rachel protested. Geez, it wasn't like they knew the guy. He could be some psycho killer. A rapist. "He's an adult. Surely he made other arrangements."
"Nope," Ivory grinned, unconcerned. Another unusual occurrence. "Besides, it's on your way."
Rachel stomped to Dr. Randall Reed and gripped the drunk by the arm. Surprise made her momentarily pause.
Not one ounce of fat there, just hard well-defined muscle under the expensive fabric of his shirt. She had to fight herself from running her hand up and down his bicep. "Come on, big guy. I'll give you a lift." Her voice gentled somewhat, but for what reason she had no idea.
He was graciously mannered. Rose from his barstool and thanked her before following her out to her car. While staring at her ass, though she didn't point that out. Drunks. Time was lost to them, what they thought was a quick glimpse could easily take thirty seconds.
It was on the way home that he spoke. "I'm not a rapist, you know."
Her cheeks burned, wondering if she'd said it aloud and that he'd overheard, but hell. If he did it was his own fault. Somehow. His and Ivory's for putting her in this awkward situation.
"In fact, I often feel like the victim." His voice was wry and Rachel had the mental image of Randy beating women off with a stick.
She covered her grin. "You're drunk."
"Appears I am."
At least he wasn't a sloppy drunk. In fact, he looked as good now as he did earlier in the evening. Of course, was he already intoxicated at the point where she'd met him? She couldn't remember because she just didn't pay attention.
Then.
She pulled up into the driveway of a prestigious neighborhood she knew well. An area that made her uncomfortable, but that was in the past. The past was for ghosts to be laid to rest.
"Okay, Doctor. Let's get you in," she said.
"Randy," he slurred. "Call me Randy."
She walked around the car and opened his door. She took his arm again as he tried to rise from her car. He stumbled slightly and she caught him around the waist.
The intimate touch caused unfurling tendrils of heat to stroke at the core of her.
They made their way silently to the front door and both paused.
"Keys?"
"They're here. Somewhere," he said helplessly.
She tried to sigh as if he was a bother, but the pat-down on the vexing doctor wasn't exactly a hardship. She let her fingers roam curiously over a firm chest, searching for pockets that may contain keys.
He felt wonderful. Tight, hard and lean. Would she be in the wrong to take advantage of the good doctor? Just once? Let him be the victim that he claimed?
She fought with herself to control the desires that she normally kept pent up. For some reason, she was having a tough time suppressing them with Randy.
What was it about him? He looked good, of course. Muscled and smooth. Handsome with full lips and a narrow nose. Exotic with his hair in twists.
And the color of his skin tone made her think of melted milk chocolate. Creamy and delicious.
Her inner desires begged to lick. To see if he tasted as creamy as he looked.
But most of all, it was the vulnerability in his eyes. The sensitivity in his wary smile.
Her heart was beginning to race. Her out-of-control fingers found the pockets of his pants. Good God, tell her that bulge was the keys.
No.
The pocket was empty. The bulge belonged to Dr. Randy Reed himself.
Her shocked eyes darted to his when she discovered it. His lids were heavy and his breathing slowed. As if he dared her to make the next move.
