OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  "It's complicated."

  "Oh, I get it. It's the same chick from the other night, and she secretly hated our music."

  "No, she loved your music. That's not the problem."

  "Then it must be that she's hot for me and you don't want to take a chance that she'll jump ship."

  Sam grinned. "You are such an egomaniac."

  "It's true, huh?" Colin laughed. "Don't worry. I'll tell her you're a better deal. Chicks love the steady income."

  "Gee, that makes me feel like such a man. I may not be much, but by God, I have a steady income. How sexy can you get?"

  Colin finished his beer and handed the bottle to Sam. Then he glanced at the gazebo. "You tell me, bro." Chuckling, he headed for the back gate.

  "Hey, thanks for the help."

  "Any time. Just round up all the strays you can find for Saturday, okay?"

  "Don't worry. I'll charter a bus if I have to."

  "Sounds good." With a wave, Colin left.

  * * *

  After buying the underwear and getting a quick runway lesson from Monique in the back room of the store, Kasey made one more stop at a dress boutique and found a wraparound silk dress. The ivory material slid over her skin like cool water and was held together by two small ties. Kasey practiced in the dressing room to make sure she could pull the ties apart in seconds.

  The dress exactly matched the underwear she'd bought at Slightly Scandalous. She would have to drive very carefully over to Sam's house. If she got into an accident and was taken to the E.R. in this outfit, her mother would never forgive her.

  She stowed her loot in the trunk of her Miata before returning to the office. Gretchen and the gang were already convinced she was keeping secrets about Sam. They didn't need to find a shopping bag from Slightly Scandalous to make them even more suspicious.

  She spent the rest of the morning on the lingerie store's new image, and the afternoon dreaming up promo ideas for Ashton Landscaping. Sam's enthusiasm for her ideas felt good. Everything about Sam felt good. If she were looking for the perfect guy, Sam would be it.

  But she was only twenty years old. She wasn't ready for the perfect guy. Life was so unfair. Now that she was ready to experience being a swinging single girl, she was supposed to find men who were fun, not perfect. She'd read the chick-lit books—nobody found Mr. Perfect right off the bat. Except her, apparently.

  Maybe Sam wasn't as right for her as he seemed. She wasn't very experienced, so she might not recognize his imperfections. The fact that she considered him perfect should be a warning bell in itself. He was human— there had to be things wrong with him.

  Maybe tonight she'd try to be more objective and figure out where Sam was lacking. It wouldn't be in the area of sex, so she could simply enjoy that part and look for flaws in other parts of his life. And she would enjoy the sex. She could hardly wait to show off her Bad Girl duds.

  At last the day crawled to an end. She hurried home, showered and changed into her outfit. As she headed out the door, she picked up the folder containing her plans for his promo campaign. Because they'd agreed he wouldn't come into the office, she had to discuss business sometime during the night.

  She was surprised at how natural that seemed, mixing their private and professional lives. Apparently he'd known what he was tailing about when he'd insisted she could do his PR work even though they were having a hot and heavy affair.

  The situation could change, though, if the affair ended before the promo campaign. They might not work together so easily if one of them decided to call off the fireworks. And someone would do that sooner or later.

  But she refused to think about that now, while she was wearing underwear from Slightly Scandalous and contemplating Sam's reaction. She smiled as she turned into the driveway of Sam's cute little house. Tonight would be another outstanding night of sex. She should have brought champagne.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  «^»

  Sam barely made it through all the preparations, but when the doorbell rang, he'd finished everything. Candles in glass containers ringed the patio and sat on the table, which was set for two. Exotic music drifted from his portable CD player.

  He'd covered the floor of the gazebo with an egg-crate mattress topper plus quilts and pillows. Three sides were rolled down, but he'd left the fourth side up, so that Kasey could see what he had in mind for after dinner. He wanted to create some anticipation in her, too.

  When he opened the door and saw her standing there in an ivory silk dress that looked like it would come off in no time, he wanted to forget about anticipation, forget about dinner completely, in fact. "Hi," he said. "I see you brought dessert."

  "You think so?" She smiled and moved past him.

  "Yeah, and it smells delicious." He loved dealing with a smart woman, someone who didn't have to ask what he meant by bringing dessert.

  She turned and held out a folder. "I have more ideas for your promo plan, if you want to hear them."

  "I do." He took the folder and put it on the coffee table. "Later. Much, much later." Then he slid his arm around her waist. Silk was so touchable, especially when it was wrapped around Kasey. "Right now, I want you to come with me. By the way, thanks for wearing your clear contacts tonight."

  "Anything for you, Sam."

  "Good to know." He wished he could take her statement literally, but he knew there were limits to what she'd do for him. Making a long-term commitment was out of the question, for example, at least for now. He had to stop thinking about that and focus on the present.

  Fortunately, when he opened the kitchen door and guided her outside, her response to his efforts was exactly what he'd hoped. She laughed with delight.

  "Like it?"

  "I love it. Arabian Nights, here we come. But I forgot my seven veils."

  "You won't need seven veils to get my attention." He leaned down and stole a quick kiss. One made him want more, but he forced himself to release her while they still had some control over themselves. "Have a seat at the table. I'll bring out the food."

  "Can I do anything to help?"

  He raked her silk dress with a glance. "If you follow me into the kitchen we'll end up having sex on the floor."

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  "Depends on how much you like cold lemongrass soup and spoiled chicken with peanut sauce."

  Her eyes widened. "Wow. Sounds as if you went to a whole lot of trouble."

  "No, the restaurant did."

  She looked at him with affection in her gray eyes. "Even so, I'm impressed with all you've done, and I don't want to ruin your careful setup. I'll stay out here and let you serve the food."

  "Okay. I'll be right back." He was dying to know what she was wearing under that dress and whether she'd accepted his challenge to pay a visit to Slightly Scandalous today. But anticipation would make the discovery that much sweeter. Even without audacious underwear she would be a joy to undress, as usual.

  Moments later he returned carrying a tray loaded with the first course. But instead of walling straight over to the table, he paused to take in the scene. Kasey was facing away from him as she sat quietly, her attention on the candle flame in front of her. Her shining blond hair hung straight down, looking as silky and touchable as her dress. Although the dress was simply styled, the color reminded him of weddings, and he was hit with a longing that was as fierce as it was sudden.

  In that moment he knew that everything he wanted was right here. If he could have Kasey, a couple of kids, a little house, a quiet garden and a decent job, he'd be a happy man. But if he told her that, she'd leave and never come back.

  He cleared a lump from his throat. "Dinner is served," he said, and she turned to smile at him. Oh, yeah, she was everything he wanted and more. It might take a miracle for them to be together, but he wasn't giving up, not yet.

  * * *

  As they ate their spicy meal in the glow of candlelight, Kasey worked hard to come up with drawbacks to Sam Ashton. She wa
sn't having much luck. He was generous, sexy, hardworking and eager to please her.

  Yes, he'd admitted that a woman's looks affected his judgment. So, that simply meant he wasn't any different from the majority of men on the planet. She thought it might be a function of the male mind-set, handed down from the caveman days.

  Basically the only problem with Sam was his age. Even that was an asset right now, because his greater experience encouraged her to be sexually courageous. And he liked that she was smart. That was a refreshing change. She didn't have to hide her brains from Sam.

  Oh, why did she have to meet Sam now? Why couldn't she have met him five years from now? But she knew the answer to that. Five years from now Sam would be married … to someone else. She hated that idea.

  While they ate, Sam told her about Oregon, a place she'd never seen. He didn't suggest taking her there to see it, and she knew why. She'd made her rules very clear, and he was doing his best to abide by them.

  Maybe he expected to change her mind about those rules with this elaborate effort tonight. If that was his intent, he was doing a damned good job. Sitting here drinking wine with Sam while music provided a sensuous background was the kind of romantic setting she'd often fantasized about. Maybe she'd be a fool to throw it all away so that she could have a series of unsatisfying sexual episodes.

  She had to assume that sex with other guys would be unsatisfying. Sam had set the bar pretty damned high.

  After being with him, she couldn't imagine how any other man would measure up.

  He set down his wineglass, stood and held out his hand. "Dance with me."

  "Sure." And when she left the table and moved into his arms, the old cliché came true—they did seem to be two halves creating a whole. They moved together across the uneven flagstone as if the surface were glass.

  He held her lightly, as if he didn't need to press her against his body to let her know how much he wanted her. The message was in his eyes and the tender way he circled her palm with his thumb. He seemed content to wait, knowing they'd soon be locked in passion, writhing sensuously on the quilts he'd laid down inside the gazebo.

  He didn't speak, but his expression told her more than words what he was feeling. He wouldn't say it out loud, because she'd warned him not to tie her down. As they danced under the desert moon, she wondered what was so bad about being tied down to a guy as wonderful as Sam. She hadn't wanted to fall in love with him, but it was happening, anyway.

  * * *

  Sam could see the resistance melting in Kasey's eyes. Every second that passed, she was less afraid of her feelings, more willing to believe in her instincts. He allowed himself to hope, just a little.

  Unimportant as it might seem to her, looking into her eyes while she wore clear contacts made a huge difference. He no longer had the impression she was putting up a barrier between them. She might be giving him a glimpse of the real Kasey, and that was very encouraging. When a woman did that, she was learning to trust.

  Desire teased him, arousing him in lazy increments, becoming gradually more insistent. At last the slow dancing wasn't enough to satisfy the ache building inside him.

  He tightened his grip on her waist. "I want you," he murmured. It was all he was allowed to say. It would have to do.

  She ran her tongue over her lips. "I want you, too." What he'd give for her to change the four-letter word in that sentence. But the night was young. His heart beat faster as he thought of what was ahead. "Then maybe it's time for the sheikh to take the maiden into his tent and ravish her."

  "Or maybe it's time for the sheikh to wait in his tent and let the maiden come to him."

  "Oh?" A shiver of excitement shot up his spine. "I thought you forgot your seven veils."

  "There are other ways for a maiden to please her sheikh."

  "And will I be pleased?" He had an idea that Slightly Scandalous had something to do with this. Hot damn.

  "Yes, I believe you will be very pleased." She stepped out of his arms. "Go into the tent and wait for my entrance."

  "An entrance, huh? This is sounding better and better." He walked over to the gazebo and took off his shoes before ducking under the canopy.

  If she'd bought sexy underwear because he'd asked her to, that was an excellent sign. Then again, maybe he was still serving as her testing ground. That was such a depressing thought that he shoved it back into the pit where his other insecurities lived and slammed the lid shut.

  He sat down on the cushy surface and glanced outside. She was gone. She hadn't been kidding about making an entrance. His pulse rate jumped several more beats per minute. He was probably supposed to play the bored potentate. He lounged back against a large floor pillow but kept his head propped on one hand so he didn't miss anything.

  Then he saw her, poised about five yards away, her chin lifted, her feet bare. Her gaze locked with his as she started toward him, striding exactly as he'd seen fashion models walk. He wondered where she'd learned that. Then his brain went on overload as she slowly untied her dress.

  Once the tie was free, the dress didn't fall open as he'd hoped. Apparently there was a second tie inside. Kasey paused and drew back the part of the dress that was loose, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. The ivory bra she wore was one of the cutout affairs. He caught a glimpse of one rosy nipple before she closed the lapel, holding it lightly against her body as she continued toward him.

  Fascinated and incredibly aroused, he watched her slip her hand under the shimmering silk to unfasten the second tie. Then she paused again and slowly drew aside the silk.

  He forgot to breathe.

  The view was more spectacular than he could have imagined in a hundred years of sexual daydreams. Her breasts thrust boldly through the openings in the ivory bra, but he'd been expecting that after the first teasing peek. He hadn't dared to expect the rest—a thong designed not to cover, but to set off and highlight that blond triangle where he would gladly lose himself for hours.

  Then she drew her dress closed again, removing the visual treat she'd allowed him for a fleeting moment. He moaned in protest. She smiled and gave him another quick flash before pulling the silk back in place.

  Then she turned and began walking away.

  "No." His voice came out as an embarrassing croak. She continued to walk, and he sat up, prepared to go after her. But before he got to his feet, he realized that she was letting the dress slide off her shoulders. He sank back to the quilt, his mouth going dry. The dress dangled from her arms, and in the flickering candlelight, he had an erection-producing view of her sleek backside as she moved steadily away from him. Nothing touched her there except the thin strap of the thong. He wanted to be that strap.

  She stopped, tossed back her hair and glanced over her bare shoulder at him. He would take that image to his grave. As his heart threatened to jump clear out of his chest, she let the dress slip off completely, although she caught it before it hit the flagstone. She stayed that way, her back to him, for what seemed like an eternity.

  Finally, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed the dress over her shoulder and turned to face him, giving him a full frontal view of that bodacious outfit. Like a jungle cat on the prowl, she sauntered boldly toward the gazebo. He wondered if he'd embarrass himself by having a climax before she arrived.

  She walked straight into the tent and right over to where he sat. Standing with legs braced wide, she looked down at him. "Well, what do you think?"

  He made some incoherent sound deep in his throat. Swallowing, he tried again. "Closer."

  "Me?"

  "You."

  And when she complied, he cupped that delicious behind of hers and did what any man worth his salt would do when presented with crotchless underwear. He enjoyed his dessert.

  From the way she moaned and clutched his head, she enjoyed serving it up for him nearly as much as he savored the fare. She began to shake, and he held her tighter, supporting her with both hands as she rushed toward her climax. How he managed to give her on
e without exploding himself was a true marvel.

  Somehow he held off until her shudders eased, but she was still quaking in the aftermath when he urged her down to the quilt. In seconds he'd unzipped and grabbed a condom from the stash in a corner of the gazebo. He didn't take time to do more than open his fly and wrench down his briefs—the urgency was too great.

  Then he was thrusting, stroking, pumping frantically, needing to bury himself deep while she still wore that crazy thong. A woman with no underwear was wild enough, but a woman with underwear built specifically for sex—that was the ultimate turn-on.

  He felt her tighten and slowed a fraction to allow her to catch up. Braced on his outstretched arms, he blinked the sweat from his eyes so that he wouldn't miss the sight of her breasts, captured in satin yet brazenly exposed to her lover. He leaned down and tugged on her nipple with his teeth.

  That must have put her over the edge, because with a gasping cry, she climaxed again. When her contractions began to roll over his hot penis, he thrust one last time and came in a delirious rush of pleasure. As his world spun out of control, he cried out in gratitude.

  Long moments later, he'd recovered enough to shuck his clothes so he could cuddle with her skin-to-skin in a tangle of quilts. In that moment, he couldn't imagine how she'd think they would ever call it quits. With this performance it almost seemed as if she'd intended to make him her slave for life. If so, she'd succeeded beyond her wildest dreams.

  * * *

  Kasey felt outrageously proud of herself. Talk about being a Bad Girl—she was a certified member of the club now. Poor Sam, he'd been a puppet on a string once she'd started untying her dress. She smoothed his hair as he lay beside her, his head pillowed on her breast.

  The way he'd reacted had been adorable. But then, she'd known he would love whatever she tried to do. He was that kind of guy—appreciative. Fun to be with. Easy to love.

  Oh, boy. There was the problem. Sam wasn't the sort to disappoint a girl, and he'd been doing a fantastic job of making her happy ever since they'd met. How was she supposed to keep from falling in love, when he insisted on being so terrific.