A Man In Demand

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A Man In Demand Page 13

by Cheryl Anne Porter


  “Yes.” She hissed the word out, but then she cocked her head in speculation. “Mike really talked to you about…us?”

  “Yes, he did. And I feel sorry for him. Wait a minute-you know about him and Caroline breaking up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, what’s the problem? I thought you loved him.”

  “I do.”

  Ida shook her head. “That’s it. I quit. Solemn vow on your Nana’s head—no more matchmaking.”

  “That alone is reason enough for a party. But now, if you’ll excuse me.” She looked down pointedly at her mother’s hand on her arm.

  “No. I won’t let you hurt him.”

  “Mother, we’ve had this conversation before. I’m your blood, remember? Not Mike and not Caroline. Well, not Mike. Anyway, I’m the one you’re supposed to worry about.”

  “And that’s exactly why I’m not going to let you hurt yourself by pushing him away.”

  “Mother, I swear to you—”

  “Hush. Here he comes now. And your daddy’s with him.” With that, Ida spun Julie around and finally released her arm. But apparently only so she could pinch her daughter. “Smile,” she whispered into her ear.

  Julie smiled through tears of pain in her eyes. Goose bumps traveled over her skin. Because of the pinch. Not because Mike was standing in front of her and mentally undressing her, with her parents only a foot away. Why did he have to look so handsome in a navy blue knit shirt?

  “Look who I found, Julie—it’s Mike! I practically had to throw cold water on that gaggle of females who had him cornered back by the bar.”

  “Mike,” she gushed, playing the part of a snide, snooty woman to the hilt. “How nice to see you. I’m so glad you could take time out from your packing to come. You know exactly what your being here means to me—ouch!”

  Had her mother actually pinched her on her bottom? Julie started to rub the spot. And got her hand swatted away.

  Unsuspecting Dad to the rescue. “Mike here says he’s flying up to Boston tomorrow. Can’t wait until the wedding to see the little woman, huh, Mike? Mother and I got our invitations a couple of a days ago. We’re really looking forward to the trip next month.”

  Ida stepped out from behind her daughter. She made an irritated gesture at the father of her children. “Oh, be quiet, Jack. There’s not going to be any wedding.”

  “There’s not?” He looked from his wife to Mike to Julie.

  “No. Afraid not, sir.”

  To Mike again.

  Jack patted Mike’s shoulder. “That’s tough, son. I’m really sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to having you in the family.”

  Mike’s and Ida’s gazes met and then swung immediately to Julie, as if this were a play and she’d dropped her cue. Julie burned under their pointed stares. For sure, the poor palm next to her was wilting. And it was artificial. “What?”

  Mike held a hand out to her, wanting her to take it. “Can I see you for a minute?”

  With her heart in her throat, she grinned as if rigor mortis had set in. When actually, panic had. “Why? No. You’re seeing me right now—ouch!”

  Ida innocently crossed her arms and smiled up at Mike. “She’d love to see you, Mike. Here, let me hold your drink.” She took the beer from him and turned to her daughter. “Go with the man.”

  Excuse’me, was she twelve or twenty-nine? But did she want to get pinched again? Oh, okay. She’d go with him. Yeah. She’d go with him, all right. She’d show him the door. She grabbed his hand, like she would’ve if he’d been a five-year-old who’d just belched, or worse, in front of company. “Let’s go, buster. Me and you. Outside.”

  “Suits me,” he drawled, and ended up being the one to drag her away. Big as he was, people just naturally got out of his way as he plowed through them.

  Outside was just as crowded as inside. Mike took three steps in the direction of his apartment, but Julie balked like a Missouri mule. “No. I’m not leaving my party.”

  Mike looked down at her. He was not amused. “Fine. Then the rest room it is.” He plowed right back inside and through the accommodating crowd, out the back door and down the narrow breeze way, stopping only when he reached the doors at the end. He tried one and then the other. Locked. Ocupado.

  “Yours or mine?” Julie narrowed her eyes on purpose, to match the sneering lift of her lip.

  “The first one that’s free. Deal?”

  “Deal.” She tried to wrench her hand out of his crushing grip, but he crumpled her fingers even more tightly. Julie would have died before she’d admit that he was hurting her, the big jerk. But once she got him in there—please, God, let it be the ladies room—she would give him a piece of her mind, boy.

  A toilet was flushed. Mike looked down at her. This was it. A door was unlocked. Julie’s heart beat in rapid protest to the suspense. The door opened. Yes! The ladies’ door!

  Out stepped Gina, one of the tellers. She was startled at seeing Julie and Mike hovering so close, but then she smiled. “Oh, Julie, we’re all so proud of you—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Excuse me, Gina.” Julie took the girl’s arm and moved her, none too gently, out of the way, so she could barge in.

  Mike plowed in behind her and slammed the door. He let go of her to lock the knob and draw the bolt home across its catch. Then he turned to her.

  At last. They were alone. Now, to really let him have it.

  10

  JULIE LAUNCHED HERSELF into Mike’s arms. He caught her, crushing her to him, even as her legs went around his waist. She couldn’t kiss him enough. And Mike was just as desperate. He turned them until Julie’s back was against the gaily papered wall. Their frenzy of lusting and loving and twisting and groping knocked a dried flower arrangement off its nail and into Julie’s hair. She helped Mike rip it out of her curls and hurled it herself to the tiled floor.

  Her long skirt twisted up around her hips. Mike’s hands followed it in hot pursuit. Her slip-on sandals hit the floor as she bucked against him and sucked in a breath. “This doesn’t solve anything.” Was that gasping, panting voice hers?

  “I know. I know.”

  She kissed his mouth, his jaw, his neck, bit at him in little nipping kisses, ripped aside the open collar of his shirt. A button went flying when she tried to shove her hand inside. She wanted so desperately to feel the muscled plane of his chest. “Oh, Mike. We can’t do this.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “No. You don’t understand. We really can’t do this.” She clutched him to her—until he pulled her cotton sweater up and over her head. It went the way of her shoes, his button and the dried flowers. “You don’t have…have protection.”

  “Yes—” he kissed her shoulders and undid her bra “—I do.”

  “You do?” Julie stiffened and pushed him back. Her brawent with him when she levered herself out of his arms and stepped back. The air-conditioning spilled a cool draft over her bare skin.

  “Yes.” Mike stared at her, breathing heavily. He looked like a magnificent, aroused stud. He ripped his shirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder. Julie found it hard to think with his tanned, muscled, hair-fringed, exposed chest confronting her. She focused, with no small amount of difficulty, on his face when he spoke again. “I carry one with me now whenever I know I’m going to be around you. I just can’t keep my hands off you.”

  Had he not waggled his eyebrows at her right then, she might have returned to sanity. And modesty. Not to mention decency. But he did waggle them. She held her arms out. “Come here.”

  Mike’s eyes lit with satyrlike glee. He finished undressing in Olympic-qualifying time. Within seconds, still in contention for the gold, he had Julie naked, too, and in his arms. The tiny room, however, presented its own unique tactical and logistical problems. With Julie attached to him like Velcro, her naked legs wrapped once again around his waist, her arms around his neck, he cupped her bottom with his hands and tried to turn. “How are we going to do this?”

&n
bsp; Julie quirked her mouth up wickedly. “Try sitting on the toilet.”

  He stopped his search for a likely spot in the room to search her face. “Excuse me?”

  “Put the lid down, silly.” When his face still crumpled in distaste, Julie chided, “All right. Bad idea. Who’d’ve thought you’d turn out to be a prude? The sink?”

  He turned until she could see it, too. Hmmm. It was about the size of a large soup bowl. “Okay. Bad idea number two. Got any of your own?”

  “Baby, right now all my ideas are bad.”

  His words skittered over her nerve endings and plunged to the quivering center of her. Lost to reason once again, Julie sucked in a ragged breath and breathed out just as roughly. “Just do it, Mike. Now. Please.”

  “Whatever the lady says.” With that, he backed her to the wall, raised her up in his hands and helped her position herself over him.

  The slow, slithering slide down onto his hardness wrenched a ragged breath from Julie. Mike answered with a grunting moan, and Julie felt his hands on her bottom tighten convulsively. She smoothed her hands down from his neck, across the broad plane of his shoulders and down the diamond-hard aspects of his arms. “Love me, Mike.”

  He raised his head and looked deep into her eyes. Then, with utmost tenderness, he kissed her lips gently. Then with more hunger, more demand, more need. His tongue claimed her mouth, stroking in and out, wringing lusting little sounds from her. Soon, he started rocking, his hips against hers, a rhythmic rocking that drove her out of her mind. Julie could do nothing but let him carry her along on this passionate ride. Her back was literally against the wall, her legs entwined around his waist. He was completely in control. And she trusted him. Totally vulnerable, totally breached by him, she trusted him.

  When Mike finally broke their kiss, Julie sucked in lungfilling breaths, convinced she was going to pass out. Mike was absolutely fierce tonight, as if he had to claim her, mark her as his.

  Relentlessly he drove on, raising their shared heat to a fever pitch that tightened and twisted the bands of their desire. When finally the coiled dam burst, when finally their release came, Julie could do nothing but allow the shuddering ripples to claim her, to arch her back, to curl her toes. She became aware of his warm seed spilling inside her. Mike’s seed.

  Mike’s seed? Ohmigod, ohmigod, he hadn’t put on the condom! Ohmigod.

  Julie struggled in Mike’s slick and slippery grasp. She shoved against his shoulders. “Mike! Ohmigod, the condom. You didn’t put it on!”

  Whereas Mike had just been slumped and soaked against her, he now snapped to attention. “Damn. I didn’t.” He snapped his gaze to her. “Damn it all.”

  Julie squirmed in his arms. “Put me down, Mike. Put me down. Ohmigod, we’ve got to think.” She slapped his arm—hard. “How could you?”

  “Ouch.” Still, he loosened his hold. “I swear to God, Julie, it was an accident. Damn. How could I be so stupid?”

  As if they were boxers retreating to neutral corners at the sound of a bell, they stood on opposite sides of the tiny room, separated by only about ten feet, staring and panting at each other. Julie spoke first. “Okay. This wasn’t all your fault. I was the one who threw myself at you.”

  “Maybe, but I’m the one who’s supposed to wear the condom. I am so damned sorry.”

  “No, Mike, it’s not all your fault. I never gave you a chance.”

  “That’s still no excuse. I’m the one—”

  Julie held up a hand. “Stop. The blame game isn’t solving anything. I have to use the toilet and.clean myself up.”

  As if this were an everyday occurrence in the CochranDeAngelo household, Mike unprotestingly went to the sink to splash water on his face and wet down paper towels, which he wiped over his sweat-slick skin. Julie took care of things as best she could. Once done, she sat down on the toilet seat resting her elbows on her knees, and shook her head. “This is not happening.”

  “Julie?”

  She looked up through the wild tangle of her hair and saw that Mike was squatted down in front of her. He put a hand on her arm in a warm, reassuring gesture. “This is not the disaster we think it is.”

  Julie could only stare at him there in front of her, naked. “This isn’t a disaster because.? Mike, we just had unprotected sex.”

  Mike let out a breath, confirming the disaster. He took his hand off her and ran it through his hair. With one fluid, naked, Greek-god movement, he rose to his feet.

  Now all the guy stuff was at her eye level. She looked up at him. “Would you mind moving all that equipment away from me for the moment, please? I’ve seen all of it I want to for one night.”

  Mike frowned as he looked down at himself. “I see what you mean.” He leaned over to snatch up his briefs and tugged them on. “Better?”

  Great. A muscled, tanned, Greek god in white cotton underwear. Damn him. He just looked more virile. Oh, don’t even think that word Julie moaned. “Yes. Much better. Now, hand me mine, please.” She held her hand out limply, expectantly.

  Mike turned until he spotted her lacy underwear. He bent down and picked them up, holding them out for her inspection. “Um, they’re all tangled in that hootchy-thing that was on the wall.”

  Julie watched his fumbling efforts to sort tricot and lace from dead flowers and dried twigs. How could this get any worse? The fates answered her. The underwear snagged and tore.

  “Oops.” Mike looked at her, started to grin, apparently realized he’d better not, and grew solemn.

  “Just hand them here, please.”

  He did, and Julie finished pulling twigs out of her panties. With studied slowness, she stood and drew them on. The tear revealed itself to be a vertical one, in the back, which halved her buttocks. Lovely. Just like the butt’s torn out of my life. She looked over at Mike. He stood there, leaning against the wall, his hands behind his back, a study in guilt.

  Julie crossed her arms under her bare breasts, and stared at him. “Okay. First thing. My period was.let me think.” No, let me slit my wrists. “Two weeks ago? More? You’re going to laugh, but we women don’t really keep up with that like we should.”

  Mike pressed his lips together and stared at her. “I’m not laughing.”

  Julie looked down. “Me, either. Look, I’m sure it’s fine. All that.fertile stuff should’ve passed by now.”

  Mike nodded, as if he was waiting for her to say more. When she didn’t, he jumped in. “All right, seeing as how this is modern times, we’ve got to talk other partners. I’ve had two in recent history—Tory and Caroline. You probably won’t believe this, but both of them were virgins.” He quirked her a go-figure look.

  He’d found two gorgeous, adult virgins? was all she could think. Then her stomach plummeted when his expression revealed he was struggling with something. Good God, what now? Was he going to tell her he’s an alien and she now carried the hybrid link? “What?”

  What was troubling him finally came out all in a rush. “I think you deserve to know that since I met you, I haven’t slept with Caroline.”

  Julie blinked several times. In that case, who exactly was he cheating on—her or Caroline? She took a deep breath. Her turn. Feeling hot and sweaty, she looked everywhere but at him. “Okay, me. In recent history for me—no one. Just you. I’ve dated, sure, but I never let anything get to the serious stage. So, there was no need for me to worry about birth control. You know that career thing you hate? Seems it’s kept me pure.”

  “Look at us—the Switzerlands of the sexual revolution.” Mike smiled at her. His smile was a little sickly, true. But it was a smile, nonetheless. He then brought his hands up to rub his face. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this. But it’s done now, and it really isn’t a disaster. We’ll just have to be more careful next time—”

  “If there’s a next time.”

  He looked at her. Just looked at her. It gave Julie enough time to trace that line of black hair down the middle of his belly until it disappeared into
the band of his underwear. She resettled her gaze on his face when he spoke.

  “I really don’t want to discuss the future here in the ladies room while we’re in our underwear, okay? Let’s just get dressed and get out of here. I’ll go to Boston tomorrow and.come back Sunday with Aaron. Then, we’ll take it one day at a time. I’ll live my life. You live yours. And we’ll see if they cross paths. Deal?”

  There were fifty things she wanted to bring up that were wrong with his plan, but like he said, they were standing in their underwear. “Deal.”

  With nothing settled and with her heart heavy, Julie began to dress. She moved silently past Mike, or out of his way, when he needed to pick up an article of clothing or needed more room to put something on. And he did the same for her. There was no need for words now, no need for speed. And no desire for touching. The passion was spent. Reality was totally in control again.

  It was only when she and Mike were fully dressed, and the dried-flowers-and-twigs hootchy-thing was once again on its nail, and there was nothing left to do but open the door and walk out, that something else occurred to Julie. She grabbed at Mike’s arm when he reached for the lock bolt. “Mike, something’s wrong.”

  He frowned down at her. “About ten things are wrong here. Can you be more specific?”

  “Do you hear anything?”

  He listened. “No. Why?”

  She made an agitated noise. “Don’t you think you should—like people talking and laughing and music playing? A party?”

  His eyes widened and a nice pink color suffused his face and neck. “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh is right. We’ve been in here a good twenty minutes or more. And women have pea-sized bladders. And yet, there hasn’t been one knock at this door.” Mike frowned. “I don’t want to go out there.”

  Julie laughed at his don’t-make-me face. “If you think I’m going out there alone, you’re crazy.”

  Now he pouted. “Well, you don’t have to explain anything to anyone. You’re a girl. This is the women’s rest room. Now, me? That’s another story.”

 

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