Pleasure Control

by Cathryn Fox

  “Naturally,” he confirmed. Jay crooked his finger for her to come back, his eyes full of teasing warmth. Without taking his gaze off Laura, he said, “How many times have I told you, Carlos? Once a woman has sampled fine dining, she’ll never go back to fast food.”

  Carlos roared with laughter. Eyes glistening from their easy banter, Carlos brushed his thumb and forefinger over his mustache and razzed Jay. He gifted Laura with a sexy wink. “And I’ve told you, J-man. Once a woman has sampled a zesty Italian menu”—he paused to tap his chest—“nothing else will ever satisfy her hunger.”

  This time Jay roared with laughter.

  They held her spellbound as they good-naturedly ribbed one another. Jay slipped his arm around her waist, snatching her back. She stepped into his embrace and snuggled into the circle of his arms. That small affectionate gesture seemed to please him.

  Jay chuckled as Isabella swatted Carlos on the backside, shooing him to the other side of the kitchen. “You…” she said. “You got too many ladies to take care of already. Come on, Laura, I’ve cleared a spot on the counter for you and Jay.”

  Jay had never found pasta-making an erotic experience before. Then again, he’d never made linguine with a sexy scientist before. Laura was as brilliant in the lab as she was inept in the kitchen. Twenty minutes into the process, she had more flour on her face, her clothes, and in her hair than they had on the counter. But by God, he had to admit, she looked appealing as hell in such a disheveled state.

  Standing behind her, Jay watched as she awkwardly squeezed the dough between her fingers like she had a personal vendetta against it. He shook his head and chuckled.

  “Laura, you really suck at this.”

  She tipped her head back. Her lips puckered. Taking great offense to his words, she cocked her chin indignantly and said, “Excuse me. Did you just say I suck?”

  Jay grinned, brushed her long chestnut locks from her face, and tucked them behind her ear. “Yes, I believe that’s the technical term.”

  She pinched some flour between her fingers and sprinkled it on him. “Hey, play nice.”

  He winked at her. “I always play nice.”

  The doubtful expression on her face told him she knew otherwise.

  He waved his hand toward the deformed blob on the counter. “What the hell did that dough ever do to you?”

  Laura laughed and slanted her head. “You mean it’s not supposed to look all lumpy like this?” Her low, throaty chuckle played down his spine and filled him with warmth.

  He stepped closer and stood behind her. “I’m afraid not. It’s all in the kneading. Watch me.” Slipping his hands around her waist, enclosing her in the circle of his arms, he interlaced his fingers through hers and began kneading the dough. With his chest nestled against her back, her cushiony bottom pressed against his groin. The position brought back heated memories of their earlier afternoon activities. He quickly censored his thoughts and curbed his desires. Good Lord, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about such things when he was trying to prove he was more than just a playboy.

  He tried to keep his voice level. “Nice and slow, using the ball of your hand. Keep kneading it until the flour is mixed and the texture is smooth.” As he leaned over her, the familiar scent of her freshly shampooed hair assailed his senses, intoxicating him. He inhaled and refrained from brushing his lips along her cheekbone.

  She whacked his hands away, reminding him of her stubborn streak and how she always faced a challenge straight on. Damn, he loved that about her.

  “Okay, I get it. Let me try.”

  Jay stepped back and watched her. It was easy to tell she was enjoying herself. With single-minded determination, her sole focus was to master pasta-making. As she took another stab at the dough, his lips twitched with amusement.

  She tossed the words over her shoulder. “I think I got it now, Jay.” With innocent sensuality she rocked back and forth on her heels, rolling the dough on the counter.

  From the other side of the kitchen Carlos called out to him. “Hey J-man, this song is for you.” Carlos cranked up the radio. The song “Play That Funky Music” echoed through the kitchen.

  Laura began to sing and dance along. Her long hair tumbled over her shoulders as her head bounced to the music.

  Despite Jay’s best attempt to direct his gaze away from her perfectly sculpted backside, he couldn’t. Instead, he stood there, transfixed, taking great pleasure in the way Laura swayed her curvy hips to the beat.

  Humming to the tune, she made small sensuous moves, the same ones she’d made when she’d danced for him at her apartment after he’d won the coin toss. His gaze raked over her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dispel the image of the way she’d seductively stripped off her lacy lingerie, the way the candlelight glistened on her naked flesh, or the way she responded to his touch. His body tightened with the memory.

  The sound of her melodic voice and the sight of her tight jeans hugging the swell of her ass as she undulated to the beat elevated his pulse. His blood pressure soared. His resolve dissolved like sugar in water.

  A sudden burst of passion roared through him like a freight train as he watched her hypnotic movements. Blood rushed to his cock, taking his common sense with it. Lust settled deep in his groin. His throat clenched. Jesus Christ, it was impossible to resist her.

  In that instant, all he could think about was sliding his cock into her slick heat. A growl of sexual frustration climbed up his throat. His cock strained to break free from its zippered cage. Fuck. He lived in a constant state of arousal around her.

  He sucked in a tight breath and took another step back, keeping his distance before he did something he’d regret. Like spinning her around and pressing his hungry mouth over hers and devouring her until they were both delirious with the need to drop to the floor and ravage one another. He ached for her to climb over him, to ride him furiously, until her silken sex tightened and contracted around his cock and her hot creamy essence flowed over his shaft.

  A violent shudder overtook him.

  “Ta-da!” she said, spinning around. She offered him a smile that touched his heart. Warm familiarity curled around him. “I did…” When her gaze collided with his, her words died away. Surprise registered on her face as she instantly became aware of the passion rising in him.

  God, she looked so beautiful. His nostrils flared. Swallowing, he called on every ounce of strength and fought the urge to close the gap between them.

  “I…uh…I think I got it,” she whispered with effort. Her pink tongue snaked out to wet her lips.

  He felt his body moisten from fever. Closing his eyes in distress, he worked to fight his traitorous libido. He took another small step back.

  “Jay…” Her soft tone gained his full attention. He opened his eyes and met her glance. Color bloomed high on her cheeks.

  The sexy lilt of her voice and the way his name rolled off her tongue penetrated his resolve and propelled him forward. The overwhelming need to touch her and to taste the sweetness of her mouth overshadowed rational thought.

  No longer able to ignore his cravings, he drew a shaky breath, reversed his backward direction, and moved into her space. One kiss. God, his mouth begged for just one small kiss.

  Green eyes widened as he crowded her. So much for keeping his physical distance. He was so fucking weak when it came to her.

  Jay swallowed and worked to speak. “You have flour on your face.” His voice dropped an octave.

  With slow movements, he reached out and brushed the white powder from her cheek. She shivered under his touch. Unexpectedly, her hand closed over his. She nestled against him, their eyes locked. His breath hitched when she touched him in a way no other woman had ever touched him before. Emotionally, not physically. Was it possible she saw him as something more than “Wildman” Jay Cutler?

  Hope filled him.

  He cleared his throat. A rush of tenderness passed through him as she tightened her fingers over his. Working t
o lighten the mood before all control was obliterated and he gave in to his urges, he glanced at the smooth ball of dough and pitched his voice low.

  “You’re a fast learner, Laura. Maybe next time you can share your specialty with me.”

  Her eyes brimmed with desire. “The only thing I can make is ice cubes.” Her warm breath tickled his flesh, fragmenting his thoughts.

  He forced a quick laugh as his mind conjured up the wonderful things they could do with said ice cubes.

  He tried not to concentrate on the sensations as her hips joined with his. He really did. But when she rose up on her tippy toes, the feel of her warm sex pressed against his drew his attention. She let out a little breath. It was hot on his neck. “You have flour on your cheeks, Jay.” With the backs of her fingers she wiped it away.

  “And you have flour everywhere, sweetheart,” he countered, his tone full of want.

  Her hair spilled from its moorings and tumbled over her shoulders as she glanced down at her blouse. “So I see.” When she tipped her chin to meet his eyes, he brushed his thumb over her lips. He was ready to explode just from caressing her lush mouth.

  “Even in your hair,” he added, curling her tips around his finger. Desire crept into his voice, despite his efforts to bank it.

  Sexual energy jetted between them. His cock jerked in anticipation.

  Her slender arms circled his neck. She glanced around, taking note of the cooks milling about, tending to their own business, and then, unexpectedly, she parted her plump lips and drew his finger into her mouth.

  Holy shit!

  A growl rose from the depths of his throat. His mind shut down. Her boldness shocked the hell out of him.

  She drew him in deep and sucked long and hard. Her eyes clouded with emotions and Jay knew the situation was escalating beyond his power to stop it.

  Everything in him reached out to her.

  Momentarily forgetting where they were, he gathered her into his embrace. Their bodies melded as he dipped his head and skated his tongue over the seam of her lips. She shivered under his touch. He could feel her hard nipples press insistently against his chest. She parted her mouth in invitation. No longer able to smother his desires, Jay drew her in for a soul-searching kiss. A soft moan of surrender rumbled in his throat as he ran his fingers over the contours of her body.

  He savored the satiny warmth of her mouth as his lips closed over hers. He insinuated his tongue in between her petaled softness, seeking his mate. The sweet invasion made his knees weak. The heat from her mouth boiled his blood to dangerous levels. Her erotic whimper urged him on. He deepened the kiss and growled as he gave in to his desires.

  Jay ran his hands down to the small of her back and slipped his fingers under her blouse. He drew lazy circles on her flesh as he found solace in their embrace. She let out a broken gasp as they remained pressed up against each other for the longest moment.

  “Hey, J-man,” Carlos called out.

  Laura broke the kiss. Her eyes opened wide. She stepped back, freeing herself from the circle of his arms, breaking the spellbinding moment. He immediately missed her touch. In a knee-jerk reaction, he cupped her elbow and pulled her back.

  “Laura…” he whispered.

  “Get a room,” Carlos teased.

  Reality crashed down on him like a storm at the sound of Carlos’s voice.

  Well, fuck.

  He let her arm go.

  Nice move, dumb ass! he thought. Way to prove you’re not a playboy.

  To her. And to himself.

  Jay cursed himself for giving in to his impulses. Laura deserved to be treated better.

  Troubled by his actions, he glanced at her apologetically. Emotions churned in the turbulent depths of her eyes, making him twice as determined to prove himself worthy of her.

  Clenching his jaw, Jay took a step back, distancing himself. “Why don’t we grab a slice?” He nodded at the pizza coming out of the brick oven. “We’ll let Carlos finish up here and then pack the linguine to go.”

  Chapter 9

  Laura folded her hands on her lap and let her gaze pan across Jay’s strong profile as he negotiated his car through traffic. His masculine scent saturated the tight confines of the vehicle and curled around her. Inhaling, she studied his handsome face for a long, thoughtful moment.

  “Hey, J-man,” she said softly.

  He slanted his head and smirked. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for tonight.”

  His smile warmed her heart.

  “Thank you,” he said. “It was fun.”

  “I really enjoyed meeting your family.”

  “They enjoyed meeting you, too.”

  She reached out and touched his hand. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

  He arched a brow and squeezed her fingers. “Oh yeah? Even when I bowled you over at the ball game?”

  Laura chuckled. “Well, I guess there are a few exceptions.”

  She tapped the brown paper bag that Isabella had generously filled with containers of fresh pasta and sauce. “Thanks for teaching me how to make pasta. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to eat it, though.” She rubbed her stomach. “I’m full from the pizza.” God, how she loved sitting there chatting with him. Their easy conversations always tugged at her insides.

  Darkness blanketed the parking lot as he pulled his car into his assigned space. As she played over the events of the evening, her thoughts returned to Isabella.

  She twisted sideways in her seat to face Jay. “Jay, what did Isabella mean when she said you weren’t just another ‘Cold-Hearted Cutler’?”

  He got quiet for a moment, and then frowned in concentration. “My father and the rest of the men in the Cutler family had never had a lasting relationship. They were all playboys and were emotionally unavailable. After my father left us, my mother nicknamed them all ‘Cold-Hearted Cutlers.’” He glanced at her as though gauging her reaction.

  She nodded, prodding him on. He drew a breath and continued. “And I was always told I wouldn’t amount to anything different.”

  Her heart went out to him. She lowered her voice, appreciating his honesty. She wanted to be honest with him, too. She crinkled her nose and said in the nicest possible way, “Your track record hasn’t been great so far.”

  Emotions passed over his eyes. A muscle in his jaw clenched. “I know.”

  “It sounds like Isabella and Tony always had faith in you. Believed you’d be different.”

  He rolled his shoulders. “They did, but when you hear something often enough, that you’d never turn out any different than your father, you begin to live up to those expectations.”

  She nodded in understanding. “So what would it take for you to prove to yourself that you’re not just another ‘Cold-Hearted Cutler’?”

  His head came up slowly. “The right woman,” he replied, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

  When he glanced in her eyes, her breath stalled. He gave her a long, lingering look. It was the same look he’d given her at the restaurant. The one that made her feel like the most important woman in the world. The one that made her wonder if he really was interested in playing for keeps.

  Her heart did a somersault.

  When he’d told Isabella that Laura was for keeps, was he just appeasing her, like Laura had thought, or was it possible that Laura was the right woman?

  God, did she dare hope?

  Suddenly Jay glanced over her shoulder. She turned her head. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I saw something rush by. After the break-in at the lab and your apartment I don’t want to take any chances. I want to get you inside and keep you safe.”

  Laura’s heart picked up tempo. She squinted her eyes and peered into the darkness. “I don’t see anything, Jay.” It occurred to her that maybe he was just trying to shift the focus away from him. Maybe he didn’t want to pursue the conversation or talk about emotional commitment.

  “Come on, let’s get inside,” Jay
said.

  Jay gathered the bags of food while Laura fished her hand around the back seat until she found her duffel bag.

  Jay circled the car to meet her. No sooner had they taken a step toward the building than two masked men came out of the shadows.

  “Shit,” Jay cursed, grabbing Laura to position her behind him. “Get back in the car and lock the doors,” he said between gritted teeth. He widened his stance, preparing for battle.

  “Not so fast,” one of the hooded men blurted, and pulled something out from behind his back. Light from the apartment building glistened on the blade of the knife the man wielded.

  “Give me your bag.”

  Confused, Laura jerked her head up. They wanted the linguine?

  Standing behind Jay, Laura peered around his shoulder and nudged his back. “Give him the bag, Jay.”

  The masked man’s quick, jerky movements as his gaze flitted around the parking lot alerted Laura to his discomfort.

  “Not that one,” he said, shaking his head in frustration.

  Geez. Well, it wasn’t like he’d specified.

  Impatience mingled with nervousness and laced the man’s voice. Laura sensed he wasn’t really out to hurt them, sensed he didn’t want any more trouble than she did.

  He gestured to her duffel bag. “That bag.”

  Her clothes? They wanted her clothes?

  Great, they were being accosted by cross-dressing thugs.

  Charming.

  The other man remained silent as he carefully circled them and stalked up behind Laura. There was something hauntingly familiar about the way he moved.

  Laura snaked her arms around Jay’s waist. He closed his hands over hers and held her tight. Even though they were being attacked by two hooded men, she felt absurdly safe in his arms.

  “You know what we’re after,” the masked man growled.

  Understanding dawned on Laura. Clearly they were idiots if they thought her files were in her duffel bag. But hell, who was she to argue? They were the ones with the weapon.