Hook Up

by Miranda Baker

  “You’re celibate?” His shock was uniquely satisfying.

  “Nope. I like women,” she said.

  He burst out laughing.

  She frowned. “No, really. I’ve got a date for the reception tonight. You can meet her.”

  His breath puffed in short gasps. “Oh, man, do you expect that to be a deterrent? That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a lesbian?”

  “Not exactly.” She crossed her arms, bristling. “But I date women.”

  He grinned. “Crystal, you can change your name and you can wear all the black leather you want, but you can’t change what you are. You like sex.”

  “You’re right, I do. I get plenty of it.”

  “You like sex with a man.”

  “Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “Sex is sex, Ryan. Love is love. The rest is just anatomy. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Nope, I don’t have a clue, but I do know what I remember. You like to be taken. Fucked. Entered with more than fingers and plastic. I don’t think that’s something you just give up. Don’t you miss it?”

  His quick switch from helpless laughter to focused desire caught her off-guard. For a split second, she rode the wave of his emotions, joined them. Oh, yes. She could barely think she missed it so much.

  She struggled, fought it down. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t. I’m in control of my life. I help my clients get control of theirs. I don’t miss anything.”

  He gestured at the rainbow of vibrators lining the back wall of the sex shop. “All of those cannot replace sex.”

  “I’d say that depends on your definition of sex.” She arched her back and lifted the heavy weight of her hair from her neck, stopping the gesture just before her breasts popped out of the top of her leather demi-bustier. “I don’t have any complaints.”

  His dark eyes followed her motion with appreciation. “So how long has it been?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “None of your business.”

  “Are we talking months or years? Forgive me for being so nosy, but this is fascinating. Seriously? No men?”

  “No men,” she repeated.

  He cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t stop me from being attracted to you.”

  “Too bad,” she scoffed. “Just because you get a hard-on for a girl doesn’t mean she wants to sleep with you.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t feel the buzz between us?”

  Like a raging, swirling cloud of killer bees. She shook her head. “Nope.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice she was pressed up against the counter for support.

  “Really?” he asked, closing the distance between them with one step. “So the fact that I can see your heart beating under your skin means nothing?” He trailed warm fingers across her chest and gently tapped the spot over her heart. His gaze held her motionless. “Your pupils are dilated. You’re holding your breath.”

  Her mouth fell open and breath whistled into her lungs. He dipped closer and she swayed, keenly aware of the heat scenting the air between them.

  One devilish eyebrow disappeared beneath the lock of sun-kissed hair on his forehead. “You’ll have to forgive my confusion. Usually when I get those signals, it’s a green light. You’re sure you aren’t attracted to me at all?” His voice held hope and the dark edge of desire.

  “Positive.”

  “Prove it.” His smile was a dare. “Kiss me.”

  She shook her head. No way. She wasn’t falling for that.

  “Just once. A simple little kiss. If it doesn’t turn you on, then you can go back to your girlfriends and your vibrators. I’ll never bother you again. But if it does turn you on…”

  She felt his determination advance toward her like an invisible army. He wasn’t going to let this go without a fight, and the hysterical impulse to leap behind the counter and brandish the stool at him like a lion tamer crossed her mind. Could she survive one simple kiss? One night with him had ripped her wide open and hot-wired her emotions to the world around her. For her, there was nothing simple about kissing him, but he didn’t know that. Maybe if she played it right, all those emotions pouring out of him, the ones that were using her as a punching bag, would disappear. Would he leave her alone if she could convince him she wasn’t attracted to him?

  Crystal lifted her chin defiantly. “One kiss,” she said, throwing everything she had into her shield. “And then you go.”

  Ryan pulled her body flush against his own, one arm a hard curve around her waist, the other a band across her back. He fit her like a puzzle piece, edges matching, curves lined up. There was no gap between them.

  Crystal’s head began to buzz. She swallowed convulsively.

  His arms gentled into a seductive caress and his lips settled over hers, whisper-soft as they sought a response. She had expected an onslaught of lust, not tenderness. Oh, shit, she couldn’t handle sweetness, not when his lips reminded her of what it was like to be skin-on-skin on a hot summer night with no walls, no barriers and nothing to hide.

  His mouth opened, coaxed her lips apart, and his tongue touched hers, retreated.

  She held her arms behind her and dug her long nails viciously into her palms, hoping the pain would keep her focused on her shield. Instead, it added to her awareness of the sharp ache between her thighs. She shifted her feet, lifted one stiletto heel and brought it down squarely on her instep.

  As she shifted, his hands caught hers, drew them up to his shoulders as he lifted her onto the counter, never losing contact with her mouth. He stepped between her thighs. Her skirt was so short it provided no barrier and she could feel his erection pressing against her panties. Her wet panties. Oh God, she was losing this battle. Did he know?

  His lips flirted with hers, moving softly, cleverly over her mouth. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and abandon herself to the desire thrumming between them, but then he would never leave her alone. It was important that he leave her alone. He slid one hand behind her neck, angled her head and stroked into her mouth, moving against her in a rhythm she had never forgotten. She answered back, twisting her hips.

  His moan was a low throb of satisfaction, barely audible, more felt than heard. Need rushed from her pelvis to her chest then dropped back down to land in a heavy pool between her thighs. Ryan traced the line of her garter until his hand met the junction of hip and leg. His thumb edged beneath the elastic of her underwear. A whimper broke free from her throat as her hips arched toward his hand.

  Dimly, she heard the sound of the bell tinkling on the front door.

  Ryan raised his head. His eyes were glazed, hot, as he pulled her forward.

  Crystal pressed closer to him, riding the long line of his body. Her feet hit the floor and she stiffened, startled.

  He stepped back. “Save a dance for me tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  Mark and Alisa had spared no expense for their reception. She and Bonita were the only two people ignoring the lavish buffet and enjoying the summer sunset on the secluded patio of the posh country club. Or, rather, Bonita was enjoying it. She was also getting a kick out of Crystal’s acute embarrassment. The other guests were inside admiring the ice sculptures, chocolate fountain, martini luge, carving stations and six-tier wedding cake. More than a few were surreptitiously slipping wedding favors into their pockets. Alisa must have spent hours tying grosgrain ribbons on the individually wrapped, neon-colored, jelly-stretch cock rings.

  Bonita accepted two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Crystal. “You have to give me credit for staying quiet as long as humanly possible,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t ask why you were sitting on the store counter and Ryan was wearing your lipstick. I didn’t make a peep on the drive over here, mostly because I was afraid you’d jump out of the car on the highway if I did.” She held up a hand as Crystal tried to interrupt. “No, believe it or not, I don’t care about what happened in the shop this afternoon. Well,
I do, but that’s not what I want to hear first. I want the whole story.” Bonita’s clear, green eyes were solemn. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to tell me why you’ve been hiding at Come Again for all these years?”

  “I’m not hiding,” Crystal protested.

  Bonita took a sip of champagne and waited. Not once during their friendship had she pushed Crystal for information. Bonita was the most private person she knew, and she respected Crystal’s privacy as carefully as she guarded her own. After all of her support, Bonita deserved to know the truth.

  Crystal forced herself to turn back the clock. “I met him at a frat party my freshman year of college. I think he and Mark grew up together, and he was visiting for homecoming weekend. When he kissed me, it felt like a religious experience. It was like…bang. Trumpets, flashing lights, a chorus of angels, the whole shebang. I thought it was love at first sight. In retrospect, I guess the tequila could have had something to do with it.” Crystal stared into her glass, watching the bubbles rise and pop on the surface. She took a long sip. “I was a virgin.”

  Bonita groaned.

  “I went upstairs with him and he was everything I could have hoped for in a first lover. Completely open, honest, he talked to me the whole time, made sure it was good for me, even the first time. Back then I didn’t realize how unusual that was—real communication during sex, the Holy Grail of lovemaking. We didn’t sleep, just made love all night. In the morning, he kissed me goodbye and got on a plane to California. I never heard from him again.”

  “What?” Outrage darkened Bonita’s eyes to the exact shade of her elegant jade necklace. “You didn’t give him your number? Or get his?”

  “He got mine and put it in his cell phone. I didn’t ask for his. I was trying to be cool.”

  Bonita frowned. “Oh, that’s just painful.”

  “It gets worse. That’s when the psychic stuff began. I walked out of the bedroom that morning and got flattened by depression. I didn’t know it, but I was channeling the combined hangover of the entire fraternity house. Then I staggered outside and found two people having a screaming breakup on the front porch. I knew what they were yelling at each other didn’t match what was in their hearts, so I started babbling, couldn’t stop myself. I should have kept my mouth shut, of course, but then they started being honest with each other. I guess they were my first pro bono clients.” She smiled, remembering. That incident had eventually given her the idea for Get In Touch. “After that, I learned how to keep my thoughts to myself, but I felt like I was standing in a hailstorm. I never knew when I was going to get hit by someone else’s emotions. Do you know how many kids are walking around broadcasting their feelings on a college campus?” She groaned. “I was a wreck. Thank God for Come Again. I would have gotten into more trouble than I did without that vibrator you sold me. Your pretty girlfriends were a big help too. Still are, in fact.”

  “Yes, I have to agree there,” Bonita said with a small smile.

  Crystal set her empty champagne glass on the table and snagged another one from a tray. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  Bonita chewed on her bottom lip. “So where’d Ryan go?” she asked.

  “Stanford. Graduate School of Business. I waited all day for him to call and then I squashed my pride and went back to the frat house to ask around. Mark wasn’t there, thank God, but the house was having another party.” She swallowed hard. “You know what happens to an empath around a bunch of hot, horny guys who smell freshman meat?”

  Bonita looked horrified.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.” She had missed Ryan, but she’d filled her emptiness with every cock in the fraternity house that night. Dim lights, drawn curtains, the smell of incense and beer, salty sweat on heated flesh. Her lust had been endless, uncontrollable, fed by the frenzy around her. That night had taught her an awesome and horrifying lesson, and she was lucky she hadn’t ended up pregnant or worse. “I didn’t leave my dorm room for a week after that, not until I figured out how to shield. I’d walk outside and sidle up to someone and see if I was safe and then run back to my room. I also practiced on the pizza delivery guys because there was no way I could go to the cafeteria.”

  “I guess that explains why I never see you Upstairs at Johnny’s on orgy night,” Bonita said, offering her a smile that held no pity.

  Crystal smiled back at her. “No way in hell.”

  Bonita nodded. “So what happened this afternoon? You guys looked ready to combust.”

  Crystal didn’t spare a single detail.

  “That’s almost impressive,” Bonita said, when she had finished. “You told him you liked girls and he stole third base?”

  “Don’t remind me. My last faint hope is to prove that you and I are madly in love. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.”

  Bonita had a pensive expression on her face. “Let me get this straight. One night of hot sex with Ryan Anderson turned you into a nymphomaniac psychic?”

  “Something like that.”

  Her friend grinned. “Don’t you want to know what a second night would do to you?”

  Crystal scowled. “Have you lost your mind? I would expect you, of all people, to tell me to stay the hell away from him!”

  “Why? Because I’m a lesbian?”

  “No, because you helped clean up the wreck he left behind!”

  Bonita’s expression was reproving. “Crystal, you weren’t a wreck—you were a teenager discovering her sexuality. I will admit that the whole psychic thing was complicated, but you handled it. And you’ve been indispensable at Come Again for years now, and Get In Touch really helps people. Don’t you tell your clients not to deny their feelings? Why are you denying yours?”

  “Whoa!” Crystal said, stung. “Hey, whose side are you on?”

  “Yours,” Bonita said firmly. “But you’ve been running from this guy for ten years—”

  “I haven’t been running anywhere!”

  “Metaphorically speaking. He looks at you like he wants to take you apart and put you back together piece by piece. That guy’s focus is so tight, I can almost see laser beams coming out of his eyeballs. He makes you burn, sweetie. You were hot this afternoon. It turned me on just watching you two look at each other. And I haven’t looked at a man in…” Bonita paused. “Well, ever.” She nailed Crystal with a direct look. “Don’t you want to hear what he’s got to say for himself? Aren’t you curious?”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Crystal leaned back it her chair and stared at the sky. “It was scary in the shop today,” she finally admitted. “I can feel him. Even with my shield up, he gets in. I can’t think about anything but him, and when I do manage to get my brain under control, a stiff breeze rolls by and my body reminds me that it hasn’t forgotten him, either.”

  “All the more reason to give it another shot. Maybe you can get him out of your system.” Bonita leaned forward in her chair. “Or maybe not. But at least you won’t be running anymore. If I had to make a guess from looking at him, the harder you run, the faster he’s going to chase you. He reminds me of a bull pawing the ground, getting ready to charge. Someone once told me that when a bull goes into a rage, they have to hit him in the nuts with a steel baseball bat to get him to snap out of it. No kidding. A baseball bat. Ryan Anderson may have disappeared for ten years, but he doesn’t look like the type to give up easily when he wants something.”

  Crystal shook her head. “My whole day was shot after I saw him at the wedding. I couldn’t concentrate with my client. I opened up and got clobbered by my own damn emotions. If I can’t keep my feelings under control long enough to help my clients, then I can’t work. Ryan already ruined my life—I will not let him ruin my business.”

  “He didn’t ruin your life, sweetie. He made it.”

  “Yeah, well, now he’s screwing it up.” Crystal bit her lip as she exposed her underlying fear. “What if it all goes away?”

  “That’s pretty damn ironic considering you’r
e pissed at him for making you psychic in the first place.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “Just keeping you honest, sweetie. I know he hurt you, but what if spending some time with him now can help you? It’s been ten years, Crystal, and you’re still hiding, still healing. It isn’t going to go away. Accept the risk on your terms.” Bonita took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Look on the bright side—if you have sex with him again, maybe you’ll be able to teleport.”

  “Very funny.” Through the window, she saw Ryan enter the ballroom. A jolt of energy hit her body like a triple espresso shot.

  He had exchanged his khakis for a dark blue pinstriped suit, and several female heads turned to admire him as he crossed the room. He looked like a marauding Viking with his wild blond curls and dark, piercing eyes. She smacked down a stab of jealously. This was so not the time to get in touch with her repressed feelings. “Bonita, please, I’m desperate. I’ll think about what you said, but I need to buy some time. I can’t do this tonight. Please, are you going to help me? You promised. I’m begging you!”

  A mischievous smile lit Bonita’s green eyes. “It’s kind of a rush to be on the other side of the begging for once.”

  Crystal pressed a hand to her head. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  Bonita was silent. Crystal felt Ryan move toward the patio. Desire, hers and his, tightened her skin.

  Bonita sighed. “I think you’re making a mistake, but, yes, I’ll help you. Think we’ll scandalize the library crowd?”

  “God, I hope so.” They had to make it convincing or Ryan wouldn’t believe it.

  “There goes my Monday night book club,” Bonita said with resignation.

  “Really?” Crystal glanced at her anxiously.

  “No, and I’d do it anyway. Is he coming this way?”

  She nodded. Every hair on her body had zinged to life the minute he spotted them on the patio.

  “Drink up,” Bonita ordered.

  Crystal drank, clutching the glass. If Bonita hadn’t been holding onto her other hand, she might have jumped the stairs, high heels notwithstanding, and bolted from the patio. Escape, in one way or another, was imperative.