by Pamela Clare
“No.” He was grumpy.
“Have a great day at Broncos camp. I hope Don the dickhead isn’t snotty to you on the air.” She leaned over far enough to give him a glimpse of what he wasn’t touching and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Will Fraser.”
Then she sashayed out the door, feeling like a million bucks.
“She caught on to me, guys. That’s the only explanation. She’s fighting back. If I thought I was hurting before, I’m dying now. I’m talking balls so blue they’re purple.”
Will had endured three days of sheer hell and had done the only thing a man could do under such circumstances: met his buddies after work for a beer.
Devon took a drink. “What makes you say she’s fighting back? What’s she doing?”
Will leaned in, lowered his voice. “She’s teasing me, playing stripper in reverse.”
“So she’s been getting dressed?” Devon looked unimpressed.
“It’s more than that! She struts naked into the bedroom while I’m still in bed. She rubs skin cream over her entire naked body like she’s making love to herself. She takes extra time on all the best parts, especially her ass. I’m telling you, she greases that thing so well she could put it on the grill!”
Devon, Scott, Robert and Nick stared at him, silent and openmouthed.
But Will had to vent, had to get it out of his system. “Then she gets dressed. Tuesday it was a push-up bra, garters and stockings—and no panties. Yesterday it was a red silk thong. This morning she wore a see-through teddy thing—white lace and ribbons.”
“Whoa.” Robert lifted his beer, missed his mouth.
Nick and Scott stared at him, mute.
Devon buried his face in his hands. “Man, I sense pink in my future.”
“Why don’t you just get up and walk out while she’s dressing?” Scott asked.
“I’d like to see you try that.” It wasn’t that Will hadn’t thought of that. But when the time had come, he’d found himself unable to move.
“You are wanking, right?” Nick had never been subtle.
“Of course I’m wanking! I’m a guy, right?”
“Just making sure you hadn’t overlooked an obvious solution.”
“Listen! I’m not finished.” Someone had to know what he’d been going through these past three days. “Tuesday night she picked up sushi—and fed me with her own chopsticks. Last night I came home early thinking I’d beat her at her game and cook my lasagna she loves so much, only to find her setting out oysters on the half shell. And the whole time we’re eating, all I can think about is that finely greased ass.”
“And so you just sit there, a testosterone train wreck, and do nothing to turn the tables?” Devon glared at him as if he’d done something terrible.
“Of course not!” He couldn’t tell them about running down the batteries on her vibrator. That seemed a bit too personal. Besides, she’d bought fresh batteries the next morning—and hidden the vibrator somewhere he hadn’t been able to find it. “I strut around as naked as a monkey at the zoo. I’ve been packing boxes, lifting all kinds of heavy shit with my shirt off. I’ve made a point of kissing her just the way she likes to be kissed. I’ve brought her flowers. Last night I gave her the ultimate neck rub. She was putty in my hands!”
For a moment no one said anything, the sound of Incubus drifting through the air above the cacophony of a hundred conversations.
Will drew deeply on his brew, knowing full well he was in shit-deep trouble. He’d called Lissy from Broncos team camp to tell her he was going out with the guys and that she shouldn’t wait for him for dinner.
“You’re going to see them all Saturday night at your bachelor party,” she’d said, clearly disappointed he was evading whatever trap she’d laid for him tonight.
But he needed to regroup, to come up with a new game plan.
“If I were you, I’d just give up,” Scott offered. “Pink cummerbunds—what’s that compared to what Lissy’s got cookin’?”
“I’d have given up Tuesday,” Robert said, dragging a chip through dip.
Nick nodded. “I’d never have agreed to the stupid bet in the first place.”
Devon placed a reassuring hand on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to these losers, Will. You’ve been outclassed, that’s all. But you can take her. You just got to give as good as you get. Tomorrow, when she starts to grease that fine thing, you go on over and help her out. Grease it for her.”
Will nearly choked.
Will was awake when Lissy came tiptoeing in the next morning. When she dropped her towel and reached for the scented skin cream, he turned on the bedroom lamp. “I was wondering when you’d get here. It’s time for my morning skin show.”
She whirled around and saw him just as he wanted to be seen—sitting up in their bed, his arms folded behind his head, his naked body fully exposed. He watched as her gaze traveled over him, felt the satisfaction of knowing she appreciated what she saw.
She lifted her chin, looked away, removed the lid from the jar of scented cream and scooped a creamy dollop with her fingers. She rubbed the cream between her palms, lifted a long leg to rest her foot on the bed and began to work her way from ankle to thigh.
“Now the other one,” Will said, already hard. “But stand at the foot of the bed—and spread your legs farther apart this time.”
Her green eyes flew wide, and a crimson blush crept up her skin from her breasts to her cheeks. But she did as he asked, moving to stand at the foot of the bed, her legs shoulder-width apart. Then she scooped more cream from the jar and lifted her other leg.
“I can see your clit—just the tip of it peeking out—and your rosy inner lips. Remember what it feels like when I suck them into my mouth? Hmm?”
He heard her breathing quicken, saw her hands falter. But she said nothing.
Then she reached for the skin cream again, rubbed it between her palms and slid her hands over her hips to her ass.
“Turn around. Yeah, like that.” He watched her hands slide slowly over her rounded, white ass cheeks and felt his erection thicken. “God, I love your ass, Lissy. I want to nip it. I want to squeeze it. I want to rub my hands over it while you’re bent over and I’m fucking you.”
Lissy heard the bed shift, felt his feet hit the floor, and spun to face him, certain now she’d made a terrible mistake. He was taking his revenge.
“Let me help with that, sugar.” His cock standing rigid against his abdomen, he strode over to her, then dragged his fingers through her scented cream.
A strong arm snaked around her waist, turned her away from him. Then his hands, hot and slick, began to move over her buttocks, cupping her, shaping her, making her shiver.
A rush of heat flared deep in her belly, leaving her wet and wanting. “This is cheating.”
“Don’t talk to me about cheating. You’ve been torturing me with this little display every morning. I’m just taking my due.” His hands left her body, returned with more cream. “I wonder—are you wet, Lissy?”
His slathered hands reached around, rubbed her inner thighs, then slid slowly upward, the tips of his fingers grazing her labia, parting her, flicking her already swollen clitoris. Her knees turned to water, and she sank back into him.
“Mmmm, you are wet. You want me.” Then he pressed himself against her, his cock a hard ridge against her back. “Just like I want you.”
He held her against him with one arm, scooped up more cream.
“I-I can do this myself.” It was a pathetic attempt, but it was the most she could do.
“You can, but I’m not going to let you. Not this time.” He rubbed his hands slowly over the curves and hollows of her hips and belly, moving slowly upward, inch by agonizing inch, until her nipples puckered in anticipation of his touch.
When he finally closed his hands over her, it was heaven, his fingers tugging and teasing her slippery, aching crests, sending sharp tremors of pleasure to her belly, making her inner muscles clench and her body s
hake with raw, flaming lust. Her breath broke, and she moaned his name. “Oh, God, Will!”
Without warning, he released her, and she heard a drawer slide open. She turned to find him digging through delicate, lacy lingerie as if it were tube socks.
“What—?”
“Perfect.” He held a black satin corset out to her, motioned for her to turn around.
She did as he demanded, raising her arms so he could tuck the satin and stays beneath her breasts, then gasping when he began to lace her with sharp tugs. Whether it was the corset or her level of arousal, she could scarcely breathe.
Next, he sat her on the edge of the bed, knelt between her parted thighs and rolled black silk stockings up her legs, fastening them in place with the garters. Then he sat back on his heels, caressed her naked inner thighs and raked her with his hungry gaze. “I bet you’re wet enough to take all of me in one thrust.”
Lissy’s answer was a frustrated moan. She felt the flesh between her thighs pulse, every nerve in her body aching to be fucked, words of surrender on her tongue. His cock was so close, just inches away, hard and thick. She bit her lower lip, felt her inner muscles contract as she imagined how it would feel to have him inside her—the sweet stretch, the slippery friction, the velvet-steel stroke. Oh, God, she wanted him, was more than ready to take him.
One more touch, just one more, and she’d give in.
He stood, pulled her to her feet and toward her closet, then jerked a periwinkle silk dress off its hanger. “Put this on.”
She bit back a disappointed groan, did as he asked, turning so he could zip her, her body thrumming with desire so intense it felt like torture.
He closed it with a jerk. “Have a good day at the paper. The coaches have some private time scheduled for the team today, so I’ll probably be home early.”
Then he kissed her on the cheek and walked off toward the shower looking like some kind of pagan god, bare-ass naked and still erect.
Lissy found it hard to concentrate at work. The rasp of lace against her thigh, the pinch of stays, the caress of silk against her bare bottom reminded her constantly of what Will had done this morning. Her body seemed to be in a state of constant arousal—hypersensitive, tense, burning. She’d been a single heartbeat from losing the bet. If he had pushed her any harder…
She was in trouble. How could she go home to him tonight when she was already wet and aching for him? How could she face him again when one touch was going to drive her over the edge? How could she possibly counter his latest strategy?
She needed help.
She cornered Holly at lunchtime and practically begged her to come over. “We’ll rent any DVD you want to watch, and I’ll buy your favorite ice cream. All you have to do is be there.”
Holly gave her a knowing smile. “He’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he?”
“Oh, God, you have no idea!”
“I wish I could help, Lissy, truly, I do. But it’s Friday night. I have a date. I hope to be getting laid myself.”
Of course. Holly always had a date. Why hadn’t Lissy thought of that?
Next she tried Sophie, but Sophie also had plans.
“I’m going to a movie with my brother—nothing exciting. Sorry, Lissy.”
Lissy found Tessa at her desk, poring over police reports and sipping a designer latté. She explained her situation and pleaded for Tessa’s help. “Please say you don’t have a date.”
“Me? Have a date? You must be joking. Sure, I’ll come over.”
Will was already home when they got there. Lissy parked next to his pickup, waited in the oppressive dry heat for Tessa to stow her car in visitor parking, then guided her through the Cone Zone, which seemed to have grown since this morning.
“What are they doing here? Prospecting for gold?” Tessa’s southern deb accent had a way of making everything she said sound charming.
“I think the flyers they posted said something about working on the gas main.”
Desperate to get out of the corset and stockings, Lissy hurried up the steps, unlocked the door and walked into refreshing coolness—and the delicious garlicky smell of Will’s lasagna.
“I’ve always said the person who invented air conditioning should get the Nobel prize,” Tessa said. “Mmm, what’s that I smell?”
“Will’s lasagna.” So that had been his plan. A little homemade lasagna, probably some red wine and maybe some Italian ice. She’d have been toast. She set her briefcase aside. “Make yourself at home in the living room. What can I get you to drink?”
“Southern sweet tea if you’ve got it. Yankee iced tea if you don’t.”
“How about Yankee tea with lots of sugar in it?”
“Sounds lovely.” Tessa wandered off to the living room.
Lissy went into the kitchen expecting to find Will slaving over the stove. Instead she found a sink full of dishes. Then she saw the purple orchids. They sat on the table in a crystal vase. Tucked among the glossy green leaves was a card that read only, “For my bride.”
She was admiring the delicate shading of the flower petals when she heard Will striding down the hallway.
“Hey, Lissy, have you seen my—?”
She stepped out of the kitchen to find him standing just inside the living room, stark naked, a towel in hand, looking utterly astonished.
Beyond him, Tessa sat on the couch, her face pink, her eyes wide, her gaze gliding down his body to rest on his groin. She cleared her throat delicately, lifted her chin. “Yes, I believe she has seen it. And now so have I.”
Will knew he had it coming.
Lissy was on him the moment he got back from walking Tessa to her car. She looked genuinely angry. “You did that on purpose!”
“How could I when I had no idea Tessa was coming over?”
She rolled her eyes at him, put a hand on her hip. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You came out here naked, not knowing she was here, hoping to turn me on.”
He gave her his most charming grin. “Did it work?”
She glared at him, but her cheeks turned pink. “No, it didn’t work! It’s not like I haven’t see it all before, you know.”
He pulled her against him, nuzzled her cheek. “Then why are you blushing?”
She pushed him away. “I’m not blushing! I’m furious! You’ve been doing this all week—trying to get me so turned on that I come begging. You even sabotaged my vibrator!”
He grabbed her wrist, pressed it against his lips. “And what about you, sugar, teasing me with T and A? You’ve slathered so much cream on that delicious ass of yours I’m surprised there isn’t an oil slick on your chair at work!”
Her head dropped and she sank against him. “Oh, Will, this isn’t how the bet was supposed to work. It was supposed to make things romantic, not pit us against one another.”
He didn’t say what he thought the bet was really about because she was already upset and because he didn’t want to think about her mother. “We could just absolve one another and end the stupid bet.”
She pulled back from him. “You think romance is stupid?”
“That’s not what I said!”
“Kind of sounded like it to me. Maybe it’s all just about sex for you.”
Now he was feeling angry. “You know that’s not true.”
“Good night, Will.” She brushed past him and disappeared into the bathroom.
He stared after her, wondering how she had managed to twist his words so thoroughly.
Women!
They made up over breakfast—sort of.
Will apologized for accidentally walking into the living room naked in front of Tessa when he didn’t have the slightest clue she was there and for wanting so much to make love to Lissy. Lissy said she was sorry for overreacting to his apparent lack of interest in romance, something that really any woman would find irritating. Then, pretending that everything was fine, they got to work.
Lissy packed things they wouldn’t need until after their honeymo
on—wedding gifts, financial records, winter clothes, camping gear, Will’s football memorabilia—cranking En Vogue on the stereo and singing along to “My Lovin’ (You’re Never Gonna Get It).”
Will seemed not to notice her or her pointed choice of music, hoisting heavy boxes onto his shoulders, carrying them outside and through the Cone Zone to his pickup and driving them to the new house without a word. But the third time she played the same song, he put on his iPod.
He was ignoring her.
She set about ignoring him, too.
They worked without speaking through the afternoon, taking a quick break over chicken curry and Thai iced teas, then showering alone, each getting ready for the night ahead. Holly was coming at seven to take Lissy to a private suite at the Adam’s Mark for her bridal shower/bachelorette party, while Devon was sending a limo to pick up Will and convey him and his groomsmen to certain unnamed establishments on East Colfax.
It was only after Will had left, looking like pure sex in black jeans and a silky black T-shirt, that it hit her: She’d sent the man she loved off to spend the evening with sexy strippers angry and without so much as a kiss.
Lissy made it through the chocolate buffet, the gifts and at least ten glasses of champagne acting as if she were having the time of her life. She didn’t want to ruin the evening for anyone else. They’d all gone out of their way to make the night special for her, even arranging for a trio of male strippers, whose pelvic gyrations, bare butts and flexing muscles sent some of the women—Holly among them—into estrogen meltdown and resulted in more than a few phone numbers being tucked delicately into bulging thongs along with dollar bills.
It was only after most of the guests had gone that Lissy found herself unable to hide her feelings. No sooner had Tessa asked her what was wrong, than Lissy found herself in tears.
She told them everything: how Will had tried to seduce her, how she’d tried to seduce him back, how she’d found herself on the brink of giving in and had asked Tessa to come home with her, how Will had walked into the living room, naked, right in front of Tessa, how they’d gotten into a fight and had ignored each other all day.