So Into You

by Sahara Kelly

  The light bulb went off in Phil's head. "You owe me one, huh?" He made a show of stroking his chin, as if in deep thought.

  Then he snapped his fingers. "Got it. Why not let me take you to dinner? You know I've always been interested. And I know you don't date coworkers, because that's what you've told everyone who's ever asked. So what do you say? Just dinner—a nice meal and some good conversation, nothing more."

  She crossed her arms and rested them on the top of his cubicle while she pondered his request. "You know? You're right, dinner would be nice. I always pay my debts and I haven't actually had time to relax over a meal lately with all this work chaos. When were you thinking?"

  Phil was smart enough to know he had to strike while the iron was hot, and before she dug up some excuse to get out of it. "Well, it's short notice, but I don't have a darn thing on my schedule for tonight. How about you?"

  She blinked then nodded, straightening and touching her collar absently. It was almost a nervous gesture and it wasn't wasted on Phil. She was uncertain, but she was going to go along with his plan. He held his breath to see if he was right.

  "Okay."

  Whew.

  "Pick you up at seven?" Since he'd dropped work off at her home a couple of times, he knew where she lived.

  "That'll be fine." She moved away. "How about someplace quiet? After this madhouse eight hours a day, I've never understood how anyone can look forward to screaming at other people all night long just to be heard."

  "You got it. See you tonight."

  He spoke to her back as she walked rapidly down the hall and disappeared around the corner. Should he feel guilty for taking advantage of the situation to weasel a date with her?

  Hell no. He'd done a good thing and an evening with his goddess was his reward. He reminded himself that he did truly intend it to be just a pleasant evening. The full execution of some of his more erotic fantasies would have to wait.

  But the thought of seeing her out of the office, of actually sharing some time as a man and a woman not coworkers—Phil erupted from his chair and held his arms up above his head, as if he'd scored a Super Bowl-winning touchdown. He even threw in his personal crazy end-zone dance.

  This was what he had wanted for so long. Now all he had to do was make sure he gave her the best evening she'd ever had.

  Piece of cake.

  *~*~*~*

  Casey stared in panic at her closet. What the fuck had she been thinking? Not just agreeing to go out to dinner with Phil, but to do it that very night. Jesus H, she must have had some sort of seizure of the common sense right before saying yes.

  He was going to take her out to dinner. Okay. So did that mean jeans and a t-shirt and tacos, or black silk and pearls and oysters? If one ate oysters while wearing pearls, was that some form of cannibalism-by-proxy?

  Shit.

  Like so many of her gender, she flip-flopped over outfits, picking up some, setting aside others, putting back more than a few, and finally, when the pile was down to a manageable size, trying on.

  She had a couple of hours, since she'd actually decided to treat herself by leaving work on time. Her shower was done, she was shaved, powdered, scented and moisturized. She wore her best lace lingerie for moral support. Or at least that's what she told herself. She absolutely did not plan on giving anyone a glimpse of that lingerie, of course. But she was a good girl and had listened to her mother's continual reminders about always going out in clean underwear in case she had an accident and had to go to hospital.

  Several years after this song became routine, Casey found herself tempted to point out to her mother that if the accident was bad enough to land her in hospital she'd probably have crapped her panties by then anyway. But it would only have started an argument she really didn't want to have. So she kept her opinions to herself.

  And those thoughts contributed not a damn thing toward the actual decision of what to wear for dinner with Phil.

  Finally she opted for comfort over style. The two of them had been working in the same building for quite some time and he knew she could be fashionably groomed. The annual softball game had proved she could wear shorts and the Halloween cookout had shown him she could flaunt jeans with the best of 'em. So for this particular evening, she had nothing to prove.

  It wasn't like it was a first date or anything.

  She slipped into her favorite skirt and blouse—purchased because they were feminine, made her feel wonderful and had a touch of Victorian lace which catered to Casey's romantic side. The one that devoured erotic novels over long winter nights.

  The soft lavender did wonders for her skin and she smiled at herself in the mirror as she ran a comb through her hair. No, this wasn't a date. But she was going to look as nice as she could, which she would have done anyway, even if she had been going out with the girls.

  Yeah, right.

  Her image lifted an eyebrow and she picked up her sandals, shocked to see a slight tremor in her hand.

  There was something about this man that had crept quietly into the back of her mind, made itself at home, and ordered in. It was…comforting. Phil was a man who would be there, no matter what. He'd already proved that today, but Casey had no problem grasping that facet of his personality from what others around her had said.

  Everyone liked him. Point in his favor.

  Except bitch-Joan-the-ex. Actually that was another point in his favor.

  Irritated that she was doing all this intense thinking, instead of just looking forward to dinner, she marched into her living room and plunked her shoes down on the floor by the door. There was still time to do a final check of her email and then throw on a coat of mascara. Maybe a touch of perfume. No heavy makeup tonight. It was all about relaxing and enjoying the food.

  And certainly no necking or anything. No smooching. No long lingering wet kisses or the touch of a man's hand under a skirt that was soft and drifting and designed to be lifted…

  Ah, crap.

  If she kept thinking like that, the lace panties wouldn't even make it out the door.

  Meanwhile, in an apartment across town, Phil laid all his suits out on the bed like a gigolo picking the most appealing set. He had just dropped a hundred bucks or so at the pharmacy on every type of condom there was. His bedside table was littered with everything from rainbow colored to ribbed, along with sheepskin and a couple of glow-in-the-dark versions. He had even bought some extra large—prominently marked—hoping she'd see the wrapper and be impressed.

  He believed in being prepared. Tonight wasn't going to be the night, but when the hookup eventually occurred, he'd be ready. And adequately supplied for the next five years.

  Realistic enough to know things never went quite as planned, Phil was optimistic about his evening. He'd waited a long time for this small window of opportunity with Casey. He was finally done with the hinting around, the flirting and the casual invitations for coffee or a movie.

  He'd learned the hard way that the worst thing about an infatuation is the knowledge of almost certain failure. At last the tide had turned in his favor and he wasn't going to miss this chance.

  A white shirt and his dark blue suit seemed to fit the bill and as he dressed he considered restaurants. His favorite place was José Wong's Mexican Chinese Salsa Palace. One taste of their chicken chow mein burrito was enough to hook a customer forever.

  But this night needed something a bit more…elegant. He nodded to himself. MacDounnald's was perfect. The menu was varied but simple, featuring well-cooked dishes that appealed to just about everyone. To his mind that was infinitely preferable to a list of foods he couldn't pronounce. She'd have plenty of options and he could advise her if she had questions, thus appearing to be a man with his finger on the pulse of today's cuisine. Plus there was also the consideration that on his salary anything fancier was pretty much out.

  He'd lived this night so many times in his mind that actually preparing for it wasn't as difficult as he'd imagined. Although he had wondered if
he should relieve the pressure before their date just in case, so he wouldn't embarrass himself by losing control within the first ten seconds. But he'd resolved that nothing would happen tonight.

  On the way to her apartment, Phil made a promise to himself. He was going to do his best to relax, to let Casey see who he really was. No efforts to impress her or act like some kind of rock star stud. He was going to be the man he wanted her to like, the genuine guy who was out with a woman he found amazingly attractive.

  He grinned as he remembered some of his early dates when a rolled-up sock down the front of his pants had seemed like a good idea. Thank God he was past that stage. The sock was securely tucked into his glove compartment. He hadn't used it in—well, months at least.

  Walking up to her door, he realized all he really wanted was to have a good time.

  Of course, he didn't rule out the chance that bells would ring and wild carnal adventures might ensue. The thought made him smile and subtly adjust the fit of his pants.

  He reached for the doorbell only to see the door open before he'd pressed it. She must have been waiting for him.

  "Wow." He stepped back and stared.

  "Well, thank you." She smiled.

  "You look…God, you look amazing." Nerves swamped him as he absorbed the vision of her in something soft and lacy. It fit her like a glove and took his breath away because it was so different to what he'd come to think of as her "look".

  She waited, and then finally cleared her throat. "Uh…are we going? Is everything okay?"

  He gulped. "Sorry. You look so incredible I just…well, anyway…" He gave up and shrugged. "Car's out front."

  She didn't seem to mind him opening the door for her, which he liked. And when he slipped in behind the wheel, he couldn't help but look at her long legs neatly crossed beside him. She had really nice legs. Really, really nice legs.

  The dashboard illuminated her features as he turned the key. He caught her movement in his peripheral vision and shot her a quick look. "Is it too cold in here? You want the heater turned on?"

  Casey smiled. "No, I'm fine".

  "I have to agree with you there." He couldn't resist the flirtatious comeback.

  "So where are we going?"

  The silence built for a moment. "MacDunnald's." He waited for the inevitable response.

  She didn't disappoint him. "Really? You're serious? McDonalds?"

  "Yep. So just sit back and enjoy the ride."

  She shrugged. "Well fine. But no stealing my French fries."

  Chapter Four

  "I told you this was a nice place."

  Casey shook her head and sighed. They were seated by a window looking out over the darkening street in a very pleasant downtown restaurant and yes, he'd caught her fair and square with his little play on names.

  She'd laughed, punched him in the arm and told him it wasn't fair to pull crap like that before dinner. Especially since they had her favorite steak tips on the menu and she was able to add a fully loaded baked potato to complete her evening's indulgences.

  They sat over drinks, waiting for their entrees and both gazing at the lights which began to come on as the sun set outside.

  "This is nice." Casey looked across the table.

  "I'm glad you think so. I've been here a couple of times, but never with a date. It's casual but the ambience is a little more romantic than some of the more formal places."

  She toyed with the stem of her glass. "Is this a date? I thought it was a payoff."

  "Did you? Really?"

  She couldn't quite meet his gaze and turned to look out the window once more. "Okay. That was low. If it had been a payoff, I wouldn't be here. Yes, I'm grateful as hell you caught my screw-up, but I would never go to dinner with anyone out of gratitude."

  He blew out a little breath. "Good to know."

  "Still doesn't make it a date though." She held up a cautionary finger. "There are implications in the word date. I'm not sure those implications apply here."

  "Implications?" He raised an eyebrow.

  She paused. Yes, for her there were implications. A date meant being with someone who could potentially be important. Someone who one might get naked with—not a trivial consideration.

  And beside the sex, someone who might matter more than others.

  Someone who might end up not being there any more through no fault of their own.

  Casey knew this was grief talking. She was aware of her irrational fears and determined to overcome them. But something was telling her this nice man with his gentle humor and bedroom eyes might be all of those things she'd just listed to herself.

  And she was definitely still scared. So she met his gaze squarely. "Yeah. Implications."

  "I like implications. Wanna get naked and discuss them in depth?"

  Her shout of laughter rang out over the trays of fragrant food the waiter was placing in front of them.

  Okay. Memo to self. This guy is definitely not predictable.

  Phil mentally gave himself a high five as she continued to chuckle.

  At the back of his mind lurked the suspicion that in spite of her protests she was only here because he'd damn near blackmailed her into it. But he didn't care. A tiny part of him wanted a familiar face from work to see them together tonight. Bragging rights would be his. But for the most part he wanted Casey to see him as more than a colleague, more than someone who fetched her coffee. A whole lot more than her whipping boy.

  I wonder if she's into whips and chains? He stifled the erotic thought.

  "By the way, I don't do naked on a first date." She'd finally stopped laughing, spent a few reverent moments worshipping the mounded perfection of her baked potato and declared her steak to be a tender dream come true.

  "Damn." Phil wickedly grinned. "And here I wasn't even sure this was a date." He munched contemplatively on a fry.

  "What would you call it then?"

  "A feeling out process?"

  She raised an eyebrow wryly. "Seriously? Wanna rephrase that?"

  "That's feeling out not feeling up, but yeah." He chuckled and reached for the ketchup. "Poor choice of words. However, continuing that theme, if this was a date, what number would it have to be for you to consider sex an option?"

  "You sure you're not in the legal department? That question needs a few amendments and sidebar thingies."

  He rolled his eyes and drowned another French fry before popping it into his mouth. "Har har."

  She grinned and arranged the toppings on a piece of potato to her satisfaction. He watched her close her eyes in pleasure as she tasted, chewed and finally swallowed. "God. If there's no sour cream and bacon on baked potatoes in heaven, I'm not going."

  "Christ. That is so hot."

  "What?" She blinked at him.

  "Watching you having a vegetable orgasm."

  She gasped, then choked on a laugh. "Damn. I wasn't expecting that one."

  "Neither was I." He wiped his brow dramatically. "Do that again and I'll have to change my pants."

  She wrinkled her nose at him. "Oh please. Food's not that sexy."

  "It is the way you eat it."

  Amazingly, she blushed. "Uhhh."

  Now was a perfect time for Phil to launch into his spiel, the one he'd rehearsed in his dreams. He'd whisper to Casey how he wanted to spend about a month buried between her thighs, with a full-blown case of priapism so he could do nothing else but have sex with her twenty-four hours a day.

  But at the last minute he decided to keep it simple. For now. "Don't worry. I just want to know everything about you. Making you laugh, and even blush, is all part of the learning process."

  "Hmm. Wouldn't playing truth or dare be easier, or maybe twenty questions?"

  Phil looked at her. Perhaps it was time to delve a little deeper. He opted for honesty. "I don't like playing those games, Casey. Especially not with you, since I've waited for an evening like this for a long time. But in the interests of fairness, I'll make it a level playing field. You
can ask me anything and I'll tell you the truth. You have my no-bullshit guarantee."

  Casey watched his eyes, noting how steady they were, how intense. He never looked away, but was totally focused on her. That knowledge shot an empowering thrill through her spine. She was amazed at how good she felt right at that moment, and how physically aroused she was becoming.

  At this moment, she was sure she could ask him for anything—anything at all—and he'd do it for her. From something as casual as ordering another drink to something as intimate as dropping to his knees and licking her pussy. And God, didn't that image jolt her belly with a liquid shiver of want.

  She took a sip from her glass and fought for control over her dampening sex. "Here's a question for you then, seeing as you've given me your guarantee." She looked at him. "You ever have a one night stand?"

  He shook his head a little and sighed. "Yep. A friend set me up and actually it was terrible. We went to dinner and as soon as we got to the car she went down on me." He raised his eyebrows and cocked a finger in her direction. "Just a warning here. Sex in a vehicle with a stick shift transmission can be dangerous. She slipped and fell in love with my four-speed. Took me a month to get her smell out of my car."

  Casey's jaw dropped and she blinked, at a loss for words for at least a minute. Then she noticed the tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. She laughed.

  "You're yanking my chain, aren't you?"

  His eyebrows rose and she now knew Phil well enough to realize she'd opened a door with that question. She raised her hand to fend off the comeback she could see trembling on his lips. "Okay, okay, never mind. Whatever you're going to say, consider it said. That whole story was a little too much information, anyway."

  "Hey, you asked. But it is the truth. The whole truth. I gotta say it was a little odd though. Still gives me the heebie-jeebies thinking about it."

  "Did you just say heebie-jeebies?" She snickered.

  He ignored it and moved his now-empty plate aside, leaning back in his chair. "My turn. I won't require a no-bullshit guarantee, but there is one question I'd love you to answer."