They gazed at each other in silence. Finally he shrugged and walked around the truck. No doubt she could climb in just fine without him. He supposed he'd secretly wanted to help her because he would get to touch her, but he was out of luck.
She'd certainly turned into a prim and proper businesswoman today. He had a tough time believing she was the same person who had boogied on the dance floor and rubbed her body against his, the same person who had agreed to lie Pearly naked in a hammock while he…
He groaned and shook his head. Thinking about that wasn't such a good idea. He could feel the repercussions of such thoughts as he stepped up into the truck cab. By the time he got behind the wheel she was already in with her door closed and her seat belt fastened.
"I'll put the air on. It's warm in here." He started the engine and punched a button to turn the air conditioner on high. If only he had a similar switch so he could turn himself off. Sitting with Kasey in the close confines of this truck reminded him of how much fun they'd had the night before. And he wanted to continue along those lines.
"Is Coco's all right with you?" he asked. How about the nearest hotel room?
"Coco's is fine."
"Then Coco's it is." He put the truck in gear and drove out of the parking lot, all the while trying to ignore the sexy woman in the passenger seat. He failed. Her perfume filled the cab of his truck and he was so sensitized to her that he could hear every breath, every rustle of clothing.
"You know, if my being a client makes you that uptight, we can forget that part," he said. "It's just that I think you could help me, and I don't trust anyone else to do the job. But I also don't want to ruin what we have going."
"You should probably—" She coughed and cleared her throat. "You should probably let me do your PR work for you. If your business grows, that will be good for you and good for your brother."
"I think that's all true, but something's happened to the connection we made last night. If the PR work is interfering, then I want to—"
"You passed Coco's."
"Whoops." He hung a U and drove back to the restaurant. "Anyway, as I was saying, our relationship is important to me." He turned into the parking lot and found a space near the door. "I don't want this idea I had for my business to cause problems between us."
"Sam, we would have had problems, regardless."
"We would?" An icy finger tickled his spine. Instead of turning off the engine, he put the gearshift in neutral and pulled on the emergency brake so he could leave the motor running and the air on. Then he unfastened his seat belt and turned to her. Whatever she had to say, he didn't want a restaurant table between them when she said it. "How come?"
She took off her sunglasses and looked at him, her expression sad. "We're at different places in our lives. You just bought a house, while I still live in an apartment, an apartment I haven't even bothered to decorate."
"Does that matter?" So maybe he shouldn't have given her a tour. "I don't care whether your apartment is decorated or not, Kasey. Maybe I gave you the wrong idea about me. I'm not obsessed about the whole house thing." But I am becoming obsessed about you, wondering when I'll be able to kiss you again, and do other things.
"Maybe we should consider last night a fun experiment, something we'll both remember fondly."
"Remember fondly?" Re started to panic. "Look, I shouldn't have allowed us to oversleep. That wasn't smooth, and I apologize, but—"
"This has nothing to do with the oversleeping."
"Then what's the problem?" He took off his shades so he could see her expression better and she could see his. "You had a good time last night. I know you did. Or were you faking those orgasms?"
Her voice trembled slightly. "No, I wasn't."
"So you liked what I was doing."
"Yes."
"Then what happened? What did I do to turn you off? Am I some snore machine? Did I—"
"No, no, no! It's not you! It's me! I'm not ready for this kind of intensity, that's all."
He stared at her. So that was it. She was simply a good-time girl who'd enjoyed their sexual adventures and wanted a no-strings situation. On the other hand, he was coming on as a guy interested in a commitment of some kind. He'd taken her through his house, and she'd assumed he was casting her in some permanent role in his life. He wasn't … yet.
Apparently he had a skittish woman on his hands. He'd been in this situation before with Veronica, who had been too young to make a commitment. After handling that poorly, he didn't want to repeat the mistake and push Kasey into leaving.
He'd assumed she was close to his age, but maybe not. He could ask her, but that could backfire by emphasizing their differences. Maybe he should just let her go, but after what they'd shared the night before, he couldn't bring himself to walk away.
"All right." He took a deep breath. "All things considered, I can see why you'd think I want to tie you down. The truth is, I took you back to my house because I knew we'd have privacy there and that would make the sex better. But we could have gone to your place."
She swallowed. "I, um, got the impression this was about more than sex."
"Sony if I implied that. This is very much about sex." He reached over and slipped his hand beneath her hair to cup the nape of her neck. "I want you, Kasey. I'm intense about that—I'll admit it. If I thought we could get away with having sex right here in the parking lot, I'd suggest it. From the way you acted last night, I thought you felt the same."
"I did, but—"
"But if I'm looking for a steady roommate, you're not that girl. Am I right?"
"Yes, you're right."
"Then let me put your mind at ease." He proceeded to lie through his teeth. "I'm not looking for a steady roommate." He massaged the back of her neck and felt her quiver. He was probably a sucker for trying to nurture something that had all the signs of being a repeat of his relationship with Veronica, but Veronica hadn't turned him inside out in the space of twenty-four hours. Kasey had. "I am looking for more amazing nights like we had last night," he said, and that much was true.
Heat flashed in her eyes. "But you're … you're a client."
"Want me to cancel that arrangement?"
"No. That makes no sense. I can't have you scuttling your whole plan because you want to have sex with me. There's also the little problem of Beckworth. I'd have to explain why I lost you as a client. I can certainly figure out some way to do that, but—"
"But why do it at all? Think win-win, Kasey. How about this? I'll stay completely out of your office. No one has to see us together. We'll work in private and play in private. You'll take care of the account and no one has to know that we're having mind-blowing sex at the same time. That will be our little secret."
Her breathing quickened. "I don't know…"
"I promise you, we'll be very careful."
"So you really won't tell anyone? Not even your friends?"
"No one. I won't drag you into my life and you won't make me part of yours. We'll just be getting together to discuss the PR campaign and have great sex." Although that wasn't the way he would have preferred it, he could tell the concept excited her. Now if only his suggestion was convincing enough to get her back into his bed. "What do you think?"
"I think you'd better take me back to the office."
His heart sank. "That's a no?"
She smiled. "It's a yes. And if you don't take me back to work immediately, I might jump you right here, which would blow our cover."
* * *
Kasey knew she was taking a huge risk, but if Sam kept his word, she might get away with having more sex with him and still not reveal her age or her identity. And she wanted to have more sex with him. Just sitting in this truck while he caressed the back of her neck was driving her crazy.
"All right, I'll take you back to the office." His smile was slow and sensual. "And somehow I'll control myself and not kiss you right now, which I really, really want to do."
"That would be a bad idea. We have to
act as if we have no sexual interest in each other at all."
"That will be a trick, considering how much I want to strip you naked and lick your—"
"Sam, take me back to the office. Now." Heat flowed through her, dampening her panties and making her tremble.
He sighed and stopped stroking her neck. Then he turned and buckled his seat belt. "I'm not a patient man. How soon can I see you again?"
She loved his sense of urgency, especially now that he'd promised her it would lead to nothing permanent. Thinking about having sex with him again made her weak with lust. "I have this … thing to go to tonight."
"When can you get away?" He left the parking lot and drove down the street toward her office building.
She quickly calculated time and distance. If she left work soon after five, she could be at her mother's— even factoring in rush hour—by six-thirty, when the basket party was due to start. She'd put in her order and leave. The return should be much quicker. "I'll be free by eight-thirty," she said.
"Your place or mine?"
"Mine. An apartment complex is more anonymous. I'm afraid your neighbors might start to recognize me. My neighbors don't pay that much attention to the comings and goings of the tenants."
"We could find a way around my neighbors, but I'd be glad to come to your place. I would come to a tent in the middle of the desert if you'd let me use my tongue to—"
"How do you expect me to get any work done today if you leave me with that kind of image?"
He laughed. "I want to leave you with that kind of image. You're so damned dedicated to your job that I need to make sure you'll still want me when I show up at your apartment tonight."
There was no danger that she wouldn't want him. He had no idea how potent he was, and how tempted she'd been to throw all caution to the wind so that she could be with him. Fortunately he'd taken her protests seriously and created a situation where she felt relatively safe.
Now, even if he followed through on his idea of contacting her brother, he wouldn't mention the woman he was having hot sex with. He wouldn't discuss it with his own brother or with anyone. Neither would she. The girls in the office might guess, but they wouldn't know anything for sure. Maybe being mysterious was the best Bad Girl tactic of all.
In any case, she'd have a chance to find out if last knight with Sam had been a fluke, or if she really was capable of being multiorgasmic. She'd find out if Sam could be as imaginative in her apartment setting as he'd been on his back patio, and if she had any creative ideas of her own on the subject of sex. Yes, continuing this fling with Sam could be dangerous, but the potential rewards were so exciting she couldn't resist.
* * *
Chapter 11
«^»
Kasey had a hard time getting away from the basket party. Most of her mother's friends hadn't seen her since her makeover, and they kept her locked in conversation as they commented on how different she looked. At least she was no longer treated like little Kasey Braddock, girl genius. The image had weighed her down all her life and she was glad to be rid of it.
Except now, instead of fawning over her brains, the women zeroed in on her social life. So this was how it had been for the popular girls, she thought. Not so much better than being a brain, really. Having her mom's friends ask about her dates felt very strange, especially considering what her activities had been the night before and what they promised to be again tonight. On her way home from her mother's house she planned to buy condoms.
And she couldn't very well say she'd won an office lottery for the privilege of hitting on Sam. The idea would scandalize her mother, and besides, Sam was her secret, and she was his—at least she hoped to hell he would keep quiet about their liaison. So she smiled at the ladies buying baskets and deflected the questions about boyfriends. Then she ordered her mother's birthday present, gave everyone a hug and finally escaped.
By driving like a maniac on the way home and buying condoms in record time, she arrived at her apartment with twenty minutes to spare. She changed clothes quickly and tidied the bedroom, remembering to stash all family pictures in a dresser drawer. Then she walked into her living room and was hit by an attack of nerves.
Compared to Sam's house, her place wasn't much. She'd put all her spare cash into her top priorities—a salon visit once every two weeks, a new wardrobe and a zippy little convertible. Her apartment hadn't seemed important, because she didn't invite men over to visit.
Until now. Glancing around, she groaned in despair. Tacky furniture, half-dead plant, zero ambience except for the vase of roses, courtesy of Sam. She should have thought of chilling some wine and lighting some candles. Wait—she had candles! All she had to do was find them.
Five minutes later, she'd torn through every kitchen drawer and located two boxes of candles, one red and one green. Someone had given them to her for Christmas two years ago and she'd never used them. After suffering through a summer in her apartment, they weren't exactly ruler straight, but they were all she had.
Then she remembered why she'd never used the candles—no candleholders. Whoever had given them to her must have assumed that everyone owned candleholders. Kasey didn't. But she'd started on this candlelight kick and she'd figure it out.
By the time Sam rang her doorbell, she had eight tapers burning in her apartment—two in the kitchen, two in the living room, three in the bedroom and one in the bathroom. She'd turned off all the lights, and what everyone said about candlelight was true. The apartment looked tons better. Even her ratty furniture had taken on a romantic glow. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened her door.
Sam stood there holding another dozen roses, white this time, and a long-necked bottle in a paper bag. "Hey, Kasey." He swept her with a glance, his eyes hungry.
"More roses!" The heat in his eyes made her heart race. As she accepted the tissue-wrapped bouquet, she looked down at her khaki shorts and white tank top. "Now I feel underdressed for the occasion."
"Or overdressed," he said suggestively as he walked in. "As far as I'm concerned, you could have come to the door wearing a smile."
Would she have dared? Probably not, but a more sophisticated woman might have, and she didn't want him to know the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. "I didn't want to make everything too easy for you," she murmured.
Excitement gleamed in his eyes. "Challenges can be stimulating, too." Then he cupped her head in one hand and kissed her.
The magnitude of that kiss made her long to toss the roses to the floor and drag him off to the bedroom, but that wouldn't be cool. She was having a grown-up affair and she wanted to conduct herself as if she knew the routine.
Slowly he lifted his lips from hers. "Let's get rid of the roses and the champagne so our hands are free."
Then again, she might not have to worry about being a grown-up. How nice. "You brought champagne?"
"Yeah." He lifted the bottle. "For later."
"Are we celebrating something?"
"Absolutely." He glanced around. "Nice effect with the candles, by the way."
"Thank you." She wondered if he'd notice that she'd used masking tape to hold the candles inside little juice glasses. Now she had to figure out what to put the roses in. Her only vase was currently in use.
"I'll go find something for the roses," she said, planning to dream up a solution on her way into the kitchen.
"I'll come with you."
"That's okay. I'll be back before you know it." She really didn't want him to watch while she rummaged through her meager supply of kitchen stuff.
But he followed her, anyway. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, lady. I've been waiting all day to be with you, and I'm not wasting a single second. I can put the champagne in the refrigerator while you take care of the roses."
"Um, all right." So he'd watch her rummage. At least she'd be rummaging by candlelight. "So what are we celebrating?" she asked as they walked into the tiny space barely big enough for a sink and appliances. In her experience, champagne
was saved for engagements, weddings and anniversaries.
"Another night of great sex."
Her heart leaped into her throat, but she tried to appear casual, tried to stop trembling with lust and anticipation. She turned to smile at him. "You're that sure it will be?"
"Would I bring champagne otherwise?" He pulled the bottle out of the bag.
"Oh, the pressure."
"I'm sure you can handle it." He waggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure you can handle everything very capably, as people kept saying this morning."
She rolled her eyes. "Now there was an embarrassing moment, my boss saying I had capable hands and you rushing to agree with him."
"He had no idea that I was talking about something besides your PR work."
"No, but I did. You wanted to get me flustered."
"Who, me?" He tried to look innocent and failed miserably.
"It's a good thing you're not coming in there anymore. Honestly, what were you thinking?"
"I can't think when you're around. That's the problem. All the blood drains south and I turn into a randy teenager with only sex on the brain."
She couldn't help laughing. "You're crazy."
"About getting naked with you, yes, I am." He opened the refrigerator and laid the bottle on its side on the top shelf.
All this talk about sex wasn't helping her come up with a solution for the roses. She went through her cabinets, hoping a crystal vase would somehow materialize. All she found were water glasses. Even if she divided the roses and put them in the glasses, the glasses would tip over.
She had one thing that would hold them—her popcorn bowl—but they'd have to lie sideways in it. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she pulled it from a bottom shelf. "Behold my flower vase."
He leaned against the counter and grinned at her. "Interesting. You must not be much of a pack rat. I'll bet you've had a gazillion flower deliveries in the past few years."
"Oh, not so much." She ran water in the popcorn bowl and unwrapped the roses.
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