Naughty Tonight

by Alyssa Brooks

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Naughty Tonight

  ISBN 9781419923821

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Naughty Tonight Copyright © 2009 Alyssa Brooks

  Edited by Mary Moran

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book Publication August 2009

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  NAUGHTY TONIGHT

  Alyssa Brooks

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The authors acknowledge the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

  Green Giant: General Mills Marketing, Inc.

  Jeep: DiamlerChrysler Corporation

  Philadelphia Eagles: Philadelphia Eagles LLC

  Ravens: Baltimore Ravens, Inc.

  Victoria’s Secret: V Secret Catalogue, Inc. Naughty Tonight

  Prologue

  Score one, Kim! The orange that was supposed to be part of her dinner—as if she could eat now—pitched through the air, across the kitchen, landing in a perfect dunk in a plastic bowl on the counter. The bowl rattled and rolled, mimicking her heart. Shit, yeah!

  Sparks shimmied over her skin and Kim Thomas could barely keep from screaming as the man on the phone rattled off details…details she really should be gluing to memory. If she could think straight.

  Seriously, the Eagles! The Eagles, the Eagles, the Eagles!

  She’d dreamed…hoped…prayed. Even blew dandelion wishes on it. But never once had she ever dared imagine she’d actually land a full-time paid internship in any major league’s media department.

  Holy smokes! The Eagles!

  “So what do you say, Kim? Ready to join our team?”

  Kim opened her mouth with a big fat yes…and just then in strutted Jackson. Tall, lithe and tan in nothing but blue jeans. Wheat-colored hair still falling in wet waves at his nape from the shower he’d just taken. Jackson.

  She’d have to leave him. Be two hours apart from her best friend in the whole world.

  But not her lover, need she remind herself?

  Oh, but how she wished…

  A knot crawled into her throat as Jackson crooked an eyebrow and mouthed, “Who’s that?”

  Kim turned her back—she had to, lest she lose the words in her throat. “Wow, I’m really flattered and so thrilled. But I didn’t quite expect to hear so soon on this. Today’s Thursday…do you think I can have the weekend to think things over?”

  “Sure, sure, you’ve got my number. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

  Aching inside, Kim thanked her potential new boss and hung up, turning back to Jackson. “That was just some guy wanting to go out.”

  If she told him the truth, he’d never let her turn the job down.

  But if she could get him to kiss her…to love her… She’d forget about it in a heartbeat.

  “Some guy? Who?” Suddenly, those whiskey eyes burned—she could swear from his demanding tone he was jealous—then just as quickly he averted his gaze. “Hey, wanna go grab some pizza and beer?”

  Four days. She had four days to change everything between them—or decide to move on.

  Chapter One

  Tonight was it. If it killed her, Kim was making a move.

  Now or never.

  “Courage,” she commanded. “You can do this.” Arching on tiptoe, she used the small powder room mirror to awkwardly apply a coat of shimmery mauve to her lips, knowing she’d need all the help she could get.

  There, almost… Misplaced lipstick edged the rim of her lips and she wiped it into line, stepping back to survey the result.

  “Not so bad…” she told herself.

  Normally ponytailed, the long golden hair she’d brushed to shining draped freely in waves and huge, petrified brown eyes stared back. Her blouse rode awkwardly on her shoulders, making her yearn for a soft, comfy, broke-in tee rather than this starched straitjacket, which hinted subtly at her cleavage and was far too cotton candy pink.

  Pink. She hadn’t worn this color since she was four and her mother forced her into a frilly dress for Easter. Subsequently, she’d covered it in chocolate bunny and green dandruff shampoo that didn’t get out the stain.

  Right about now she’d rather be in that dress. At least it covered her chest.

  Nerves drumming, Kim tugged the shirt into place then forced an alluring smile. With her blushed cheeks, it came out looking more like a clowny grimace.

  “Crap.” Maybe she was better off just being her natural, nude-lipped tomboy self…but the thought incited a strangled groan. “As if that’s working…”

  Whether she was pretty or not, Jackson was used to trendy divas fresh out of the fashion magazine. Always perfect sluts—ahem, beauties.

  Kim, on the other hand, was a whopping five-two, whose greatest claim to dressing up was dark denim, who, up to today, hadn’t applied makeup since her prom a decade ago—which he’d escorted her to.

  But she had one thing on her side. Love.

  Jackson Hanley had owned her heart for years. And he loved her, at least as a best friend. They did everything side by side…worked together, shared the rent. Rooted at football games. Rode four-wheelers at her parents’ farm. Went rock climbing and out for cheap, late-night fast food and horror movies. Everything but that.

  Well, she was sick to death of being one of the guys. Sick of him pinching her cheeks and calling her Kimmy, as if she were some kid sister. Sick of watching the string of endless women go by—with her man. Sick of him looking at her as if he could consume her…then quickly averting his gaze.

  Sick, all the same, at the thought of leaving him.

  Philly was two hours away. Literally a hundred miles. But this was it.

  A long-distance friendship she could handle. But if there was any chance Jackson wanted her, as she suspected, as she so badly wanted him…she had to know. Not just walk away.

  Hopefully Jackson took the bait, showed some real interest…

  Squaring her shoulders, Kim forced herself to exit the bathroom, moving with lead feet back across the waiting room of Design Works to her office where she perched on the edge of the desk.

  And now she waited.

  Heart thudding a mile a minute, she checked her watch. “Five of five.” But Jackson was still with a web customer and there was no telling if he’d run late today or not. If he did, Kim might just crawl under the desk and call it quits.

  She was risking a lot. Her pride. Their friendship. If she made a fool of herself, there was no
way she could ever look him in the eyes again.

  She’d lose him entirely.

  Maybe she should just call it quits, accept that job. No humiliation to suffer. They could stay friends, just a hundred miles apart. She’d get over him.

  A minute ticked by. Then another.

  Tick…

  Tick…

  Tick…

  Finally, brassy laughter burst through his office door, resounding off the marble floors and brick walls. Out came Jackson with Ms. Veronica Parker dangled on one well-muscled arm. Her jewelry glistened in the light, her curves, accented by a skin-tight teal dress that played up the woman’s gorgeous eyes, made Kim want to die.

  “Kimmy,” Jackson crooned in that ready-to-cut-loose, sexy voice of his. “What’d ya say we call it a weekend?”

  God, she loathed him calling her that.

  God, he was too damn gorgeous for her own good. Or his.

  That body, tall and confident with just the right amount of muscles. The way he always kept his wavy hair a tad too long and it fell in disheveled curls at the nape of his neck. That strong, angular jaw and Roman nose and amber-colored eyes that made her melt when he half smiled, tweaking a dimple.

  “About time,” she croaked out. Real smooth. “You sure make for a boring employer. Files and phone calls…phone calls and files. Blah.”

  It really wasn’t that boring. After all, she got to be around him all day. But this had never been a permanent situation… Just her helping Jackson out with his new company and him helping her out with a job to hold her over until she finally finished school. Having to single-handedly support her way through college had set her two years behind Jackson, who luckily—or really, unluckily—had bitter parents vying for his college bills to prove who loved him most. As if money could buy love. Make up for years of mistakes.

  But now that she’d graduated top of her class from Maryland’s Notre Dame College—and secretly had an awesome internship to show for it—they both knew now it was time for her to take a real job…

  “Don’t know what I’ll do once you’re gone.” As he dropped a file on her desk, Kim didn’t miss the whiskey eyes that darted to her chest then quickly away, as if ashamed. There! See that? “Really. I like having an assistant who can call my sports bets.”

  “Yeah, well, speaking of me leaving…”

  Jackson’s gaze bolted to hers, those dark golden eyes suddenly aflame. Burning with dread. “You got an offer?”

  She just couldn’t tell him. Not when he looked at her like that.

  “Nah.” She forced a grin. “Just wanted to spook ya.”

  Ms. Husband Hunter preened on his arm—so far, not so good—with a glass smile that Kim knew would be shattered in an instant if she knew the real Jackson—Mr. No Commitment.

  Only Kim did. Only Kim loved him still because she knew why. The toll his parents’ vicious war they called a divorce had taken on him, his view of love. It’d been awful for him…he’d been used like a pawn. Constantly cornered into choosing sides.

  “Spook me? Real funny. Listen, Ms. Parker will have to come back next week, about Thursday, for design approvals.” Of course she would.

  Well crap, Kim knew what that meant.

  Staring down at the planner, determination waning, Kim bit her tongue against reminding him those proofs could easily be emailed.

  “Yeah, okay.” Ribbit, ribbit. “Same time?”

  “Why sure,” Veronica beamed as if she’d just been promised forever rather than an appointment. “I’m open anytime that day.”

  Kim bet she was.

  “That’ll work,” Jackson confirmed. Once again she swore those eyes darted to her chest then quickly back up and he gulped. “Lock up for me, would you?”

  Veronica arched, rubbing her body alongside his to whisper in his ear. Laughter ensued, making Kim flush hot as Jackson made a show of slinging an arm around the woman’s waist and tugging her closer, as if to prove which woman he wanted.

  Not Kim.

  Why? Why wouldn’t he give her the time of day? Why did he avoid looking at her boobs as if she had hair growing all over them?

  Wetting mauve lips, Kim glared at him, utter longing in her heart. She knew his every facial expression, his every like and dislike. His good side. His bad side.

  And she knew Ms. Parker would not be coming in next week. By the time the sun rose and Ms. Parker found herself dumped, they’d be out another client.

  Why not her, dammit?

  “Kimmy? You okay?”

  Courage waning, yet another chance dissolving into thin air, Kim placed her hands flat to the desk, leaning forward just a little so her neckline plunged, revealing even more of her breasts. “There’s gonna be a great party at Mel’s tonight. I was hoping, you know, you’d come with me.”

  Asking a guy out while another woman dangled on his arm…wholly discouraging.

  That guy not even realizing and said woman giggling at you? Absolutely mortifying.

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ll be there. Hey—” Nose scrunching, eyebrow arching into a peak, he leaned closer to her. “Wait a sec. Are you wearing lipstick?”

  The way he said it she might as well have stupid tattooed across her forehead.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Heat crept up her neck as he shook his head in wonder and barked with laughter, reaching out and pinching her cheek. Hard, almost as if to punish her. “See you in a few hours. And I want to meet him.”

  Well, that could be easily arranged, now couldn’t it?

  As Jackson and tonight’s choice of lover departed the building, Kim felt herself crumpling. Devastated…

  With the back of her sleeve she dodged tears then smeared off plastic-tasting lipstick, not caring that she was ruining her stupid shirt. Damn Jackson, he had noticed her. He just didn’t want her—that much was crystal clear.

  He. Didn’t. Want. Her.

  Years she’d wasted years pining over Jackson, following him around like a damn puppy dog. Always at his side but never in his arms. Passing up perfectly good dates, even ready to give up her dream job just to give them a chance. Why? For pizza and beer, four-wheelin’ on the weekend? To be one of the guys?

  And then she was angry. Downright pot-boiling pissed.

  Jackson didn’t want her? Fine. She got it. But someone else would. She was done waiting for him to come around.

  Tonight, she celebrated. Philly.

  —

  “Lipstick.” Waltzing down the sidewalk, Jackson shook his head in astonishment. Despite the gorgeous woman draped on his arm, lush mauve lips danced in his vision. Waves of creamy-white mounds dangled amidst soft pink, made his mouth water. Made heat crawl along his cock. “Damn. What’s gotten into Kimmy?”

  What had gotten into him? Sweat beaded on his forehead, his fingers tensed around his keys. Dammit, he should not be thinking about her like this… Not his Kimmy. Not ever.

  She was his friend. And he wanted it to stay exactly that way.

  Ronnie released a disappointed “Oh” as they stopped at his brand-spankin’-new Jeep, a shiny surf blue with chrome wheels, and her lips contorted as if she’d expected something more.

  And didn’t they always? Women. As if a guy who’d just opened his own design company could ever afford a BMW or something.

  Hell, up to right now he’d been mighty proud of his new buy, that he was doing well enough to afford it. Jackson hit the alarm, no idea why he said, “Kimmy loves it, borrows the keys whenever she can get away with ’em.”

  Ronnie peeled with annoyingly high-pitched giggles. “Probably likes to sit in your driver’s seat and masturbate.”

  “Whoa.” Everything in him froze and Jackson, who was about to swing open the door for her, stopped in his tracks. “Don’t ever talk about Kimmy like that.” Not ever.

  Face flaming at the thought of his best friend doing anything sexual, Jackson shoved away lewd images. He would not want her.

  Ronnie just shrugged and giggled again. “Okay, whatever. But y
our secretary’s crushin’ big-time. Obviously. She just asked you out.”

  “No, not Kimmy. She just wanted me to show at the party.”

  “Okay. Believe what you want.”

  He would. He had to. He loved Kimmy too much to want anything more with her—nothing good could come out of him acknowledging the change in them lately. Nothing.

  Chapter Two

  Mirror, mirror, on the wall…

  “Don’t fret about it, Kim. Just put it on. Live. Feel,” Mel encouraged, lingering in the doorway, sleek corn-silk hair cast over one shoulder. Tall, fair and devastatingly beautiful, not to mention single by choice, Mel was the life of their condo unit, always throwing extravagant parties. “It’ll feel like second skin in no time.”

  Didn’t she wish? But Kim had known she could count on the red-lipped, self-proclaimed diva for the direction—the oomph—she so needed. She had not, of course, told Mel why she wanted to look hot tonight. Only that she needed to.

  “I’ll try,” she didn’t exactly promise. “I think I’d be more comfortable venturing out there in nothing but my bare ass though. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about tripping in heels.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Mel giggled. “Guests are arriving, darlin’. I need to get out there. Just don’t. Chicken. Out.”

  Blowing her a kiss goodbye, Mel ducked out. Kim swallowed as the door clicked shut with deafening finality, glaring at her reflection. Imagining him behind her, arms encircling her waist, gathering her into his embrace. Kissing her neck.

  Kim forced the fantasy from her mind. Nope. Not anymore.

  I’m just not into getting serious. That was how he’d broken up with her all those years ago, back in high school just after prom. Let’s be friends, he’d offered.

  So they had been. Great friends, the best of the best as years waxed by.

  Kim hadn’t loved him then. But she did now.

  And she had to face it. It was over. Finished. Finite.