MoreThanWords by Karla Doyle

before she could overthink it. Putting the invitation out there was
safe enough—he knew where she worked, not where she lived. If he did accept,
she could play it off as part of their sexy little game. She didn’t have to
take it further. Though if he asked for her address, she might just give it up,
have Travis over…for sex. Even if for one time. So what if she’d never done
anything like this before.
    I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And Calli…put your
clothes back on. I want to enjoy undoing those buttons for myself.
    He’d what? Be here in twenty minutes, to undress her?
Impossible. Think, think…in any of their chats, had she given clues about
living above the store? Her skin tingled from the self-inflicted
pleasure-teasing and now, from frazzled nerves. She jumped off the couch. Paced
while racking her brain. No, she definitely hadn’t told him. Her home phone had
a private listing that didn’t come up in searches. He couldn’t know.
    She plunked onto the couch and hauled the computer onto her
lap. Oh god. He’d logged out. That could only mean one thing—he was on his way.
Here, to her place. Somehow, he knew. Meaning she had about eighteen minutes to
decide whether to answer her door.
    * * * * *
    Travis bumped the wipers from intermittent to steady speed.
The snow was really coming down now and it was the wet kind. Wet. When
Calli had sent that message about her wet panties, then disappeared from their
chat to play with herself…he’d gone from a basic hard-on to a steel beam. Given
her one-eighty this afternoon, there was a damn good chance she’d have changed
her mind about her invitation by the time he got to her place. If so, his
shower had an unlimited supply of wet , cold water.
    From his conversation with Caitlyn, he knew Calli lived
above Romance U. Few of the indie stores along Belmont had parking lots, so he
found a spot on the street. The store was dark. The upper windows were dark.
But what did he expect—that she’d be standing on the sidewalk waiting for him?
    Yeah, maybe he did expect that, since he’d gotten used to
women falling all over him. At gigs, in emails, the daily comments on the
band’s blog and Facebook page—offers no red-blooded male should refuse. Like
his band-mates, he’d enjoyed his fair share of those offers. Enjoyed every
carnal act he’d ever wanted, then walked without a single look back. How many
women had he fucked and left? Hell if he even knew. But Calli wasn’t one of
those women. He was a cocky idiot for expecting her to act like one.
    He cursed the sleet that slapped him in the face as he
scoured the building for a second entrance. Should’ve asked. He’d been so damn
eager to grab her invitation and run with it. Now he had to skulk around in the
dark. Served him right.
    Long, narrow alleys divided the old buildings in this
section of the city. Barely wide enough for a compact car, at max, and whether
there’d be any space to turn around back there was anybody’s guess. You’d have
to be really familiar with the place to venture into one of these lanes with a
vehicle.
    Fluorescents lit the first alleyway. Narrower than most,
strictly a cut-through, it had a window but no door. He cut down the next
access and headed to the back of the brown brick. Motion lights greeted him.
Enough to light up a stadium. Or an interrogation room. The small lot behind
her store was probably brighter now than it had been when the sun was in
full-shine mode this afternoon. Not that he blamed her—a pretty single woman
living alone couldn’t be too careful. Hell, inviting him over wasn’t a
brilliant move on her part, especially after he’d admitted to stalking her
whereabouts via Google. Maybe he’d point that out.
    He shook his head, sending snow flying. What the hell was up
with him, getting all protective over a woman he’d just met?
    He swept a glance at what was essentially her backyard. A
small patch of asphalt, a couple of metal garbage cans strapped