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Long Slow Burn

Page 16

by Isabel Sharpe


  “We are?” She felt numb, ghostly.

  “That’s what it says.” He held up the phone. “You think these things lie?”

  “Nathan…I just had a date.” And she was emotionally burned out. Too much coming at her at once.

  “Sure, but it’s only ten o’clock. Nightlife is just starting, and this is exactly what you need. Go get dressed. Put on something sexy.”

  She lifted her hands, let them slap down, a spark of life returning. She hadn’t been out dancing in a long, long time. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”

  “That?” He looked her current outfit up and down and dismissed it with a shake of his handsome head. “That’s not who you are, Kim.”

  “It is who—”

  “No.” He touched his finger to her lips, reminding her of that day—how long ago?—when this deeper awareness of him had started, when she’d assured him his touch wouldn’t break her. Now she was pretty sure it could.

  “I want you to wear something sexy, Kim, because that’s who you are to me.”

  12

  THE MUSIC WAS HOT, the room hotter, and Nathan was a great dancer. Kim hadn’t had this much fun since she didn’t know when. Maybe since she was out kayaking. Was that her instinct telling her what she wanted? She didn’t know. She’d had too much to drink. On top of the bottle of wine she’d split with Dale earlier over dinner—he drank most of it—she’d now had two mojitos, which went down way too quickly, even though she’d gulped ice water in between to keep herself hydrated.

  Right now she was feeling no pain at all. Dancing like a crazy woman in her little black dress, which had made Nathan’s eyes pop practically out of his head, which made her feel as if she were some kind of siren. In fact, he’d barely taken his gaze off her all evening. They were burning up the dance floor, burning each other up.

  A new song came on. She gyrated shamelessly, flinging her head right and left, hands reaching for the ceiling. Nathan moved closer, put a palm on her hip, following her movements with his fingers and with his eyes. Was she dating Dale? She didn’t care. Was Nathan wrong for her? She didn’t care. Was she faced with either selling out her life’s dream to Soka, or sticking around to watch it go down the toilet? She. Did. Not. Care!

  All she cared about was the beat, the crowd, music loud enough to lose herself in, the bodies around her, everyone as into the abandonment of selves and inhibitions as she was. A guy and his girlfriend got between her and Nathan and the four of them danced for a while; the girl put her arms around Kim as if they’d been friends since birth, and they danced together, undulating bodies to the pulse of the music, woman on woman.

  Kim loved this night! She loved everyone! She loved life!

  She would probably be seriously hungover tomorrow.

  Who cared! Not her. Not-not-not.

  Then the body in front of her was Nathan again, and she thought that was just fine, too. Man on woman. Woman on man. All good!

  The music went on, the noise got louder, the dancing got wilder. Finally Kim’s buzz started wearing off, her breath started running out; her legs began to feel rubbery. She met Nathan’s eyes, pointed to the tables. He shook his head, pointed to the exit. Kim nodded and followed him through the crush of bodies, gripping his hand like a lifeline.

  They poured out into the gorgeously cool night air, restoring freshness and oxygen to lungs and to blood.

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Kim opened her arms wide and inhaled ravenously.

  “Hot in there.”

  “Jungle-y.” She stumbled over something on the sidewalk that probably wasn’t there. “Whoops.”

  “Good thing I’m driving, sweetheart.”

  “Am I your sweetheart?”

  “Of course.” He took her arm and she let him, even though she wasn’t more than mildly drunk by then. But it was a good, solid mild-drunk and she was enjoying every fizzy second.

  They drove home, Nathan laughing at Kim, who kept changing the radio station until she found something she could boogie to in the front seat. They had so much fun together, whatever they did. Her instinct knew that much.

  Back home, they raced for the elevator, got impatient waiting for it to come down, and chased each other up the stairs, arriving inside the apartment breathless and giggling.

  “Oh, that was fun, Nathan! I could drink three gallons of water, though. I think I lost twelve pounds.” Kim tossed her bag onto the couch, kicked off her heels and went into the kitchen to get ice water for both of them.

  “I need a shower.” He came in behind her, stretching his shirt away from his body.

  She held out his water. “Same here. Yuck.”

  “Want to take one together?”

  “I think not.”

  “Bummer.” He took the glass from her, drank it down, refilled it and emptied that one, too. She gulped hers, watching him surreptitiously. His hands were sexy. His swallowing throat was sexy. His mouth was sexy.

  He wanted her. She wanted him.

  Like crazy.

  Maybe Dale would make a better partner, maybe she should hang in there and try harder to fall for him, but tonight she only wanted Nathan, because with him she felt sexy and wild and completely free.

  “You want to go first?”

  “Hmm?” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Shower.”

  “Oh, yes. Thanks.”

  He tossed his ice into the sink, gave her a devilish look. “You have five minutes, then I’m coming in, ready or not.”

  She banged her glass down and sprinted for the bathroom in mock panic, forgetting until she was naked and soaping that she hadn’t brought in a change of clothes.

  So? She’d wrap a towel around her. It covered only slightly less than her dress had, who cared? She didn’t. Not tonight. Tonight she was an Amazon princess, a wild forest girl, a…disco queen and…whatever else.

  Shower done, hair washed, she grabbed her towel, brushed her teeth with lightning speed.

  “Finished!” she called out. “Did I make it in five minutes?”

  “Am I in there yet?” His voice was right outside the door.

  “Don’t think so.”

  “Then you did.”

  “Good.” She opened the door and smiled sweetly at him. “Your turn.”

  “Whoa.” His gaze traveled over her. “Nice outfit.”

  “Thanks. Made it myself.” She stepped past him and went to her room, hearing the water again pouring into the tub. She toweled her hair, and was about to put on her usual flannel pajamas when she stopped. Nothing about flannel said Amazon princess. Flannel cried out old Kim and she wanted to stay new Kim. Tomorrow she’d be sensible again, sensibly face all the choices and pressures ahead. She didn’t want to be sensble yet. Self-indulgent, and to hell with consequences.

  Way back in her closet hung a blue satiny nightgown with matching robe that her mother had once bought her as a birthday present, even knowing Kim’s preference for pajamas. Kim had never worn it, but tonight she would, and thanks, Mom. Because tonight was a night for lingerie.

  The material felt slippery, cool and wonderful against her still heated skin. She pulled on the robe and checked her reflection. Mmm, nice. The color matched her eyes and emphasized her slender figure in all the right places.

  “Kim.” A tapping sounded at her door.

  Gah! She backed away. He couldn’t see her like this. He’d think—

  He’d think what? That she looked nice? Sexy even? He might want to make love to her. How about that? She stilled, her heart beginning a slow, steady thump. “Yes?”

  “I’m not sleepy yet. If you’re not, either, thought you might want to hang out for a while.”

  Before she could change her mind, she marched to the door and flung it open. He was wearing soft shorts that showed off his powerful thigh muscles, and a T-shirt that did the same for his biceps. His hair was wet and tousled, his skin golden, his eyes vividly brown, surrounded by dark lashes.

  It took h
er five seconds to be able to speak, which was fine, because he looked as taken with her body as she was with his.

  “I’m not sleepy, either.”

  He gestured to her gown. “I’ve never seen that.”

  “I’ve never worn it.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Tonight.”

  He nodded, hands on his hips. “Want to hang out in the living room?”

  “Dirty movies?”

  “None. I promise.”

  Neither of them moved.

  “Kim.” His voice was low, throaty, that tone that got her so worked up, undoubtedly perfected on dozens of women. She knew what was coming. “Can I come in?”

  She didn’t let herself think that she’d had a date with another guy earlier, that he had every expectation of seeing her again, that she would hurt him if he knew what was going to happen tonight. She didn’t bother doing anything but feel, and what she felt was the certainty that if she didn’t let Nathan in right now, she’d burn up and be nothing but ashes by morning. “Come in.”

  He took a step forward; she didn’t move back. His arms went around her waist, and he lowered his head to kiss her. Everything that had been missing from Dale’s kiss was there, every firework, every flash of heat, every wild and confusing and exhilarating feeling.

  The kiss deepened; he backed her into her bedroom, aiming straight for the bed. No, she hadn’t expected him to mess around. This was Nathan’s expertise; he was in his element, and she was about to find out what who-knew-how-many-other women had found out about him. How he tasted, how he moved, how his body looked and felt and satisfied.

  She didn’t care, because tonight it was about her and about Nathan. Because instinct told her Nathan was what she wanted. Nathan and the gift he could give her, of feeling like the sexiest woman in the world. Even if it was just for tonight.

  Kim fell back onto the bed and lay there, watching as he stripped off his T-shirt, lowered his shorts. He was beautiful naked, his body muscled, lean, well-proportioned, his erection clean and golden like the rest of him, its tip faintly blushing. She wanted to feel the baby-soft skin covering it, the iron hardness underneath.

  He was scanning her body. Undressing her? Calculating his next move? Then his gaze met hers, something sweet and hot swelled in her chest and she knew that she’d been right before, about his touch. If he lay over her, looked into her eyes, if he made love to her with any tenderness, she’d break.

  She hauled herself up, slid to the edge of the mattress and took him into her mouth, surprising him so much his body jerked back. Then he relaxed and let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. This was good. This wouldn’t break her.

  His hand stroked her hair; his hips kept subtle time with her rhythm. He smelled citrusy from the shower, his skin smooth and dry at first taste, then slick under her tongue. She cupped his balls, stroking their softness, loving the power and the safety of having him like this.

  With her lightest touch she grazed the length of his penis with her teeth, then sucked more firmly, enjoying his gasp, the tough work of his breath, the way she knew she was driving him mad.

  She pulled back and fisted him, kept the rhythm going, then applied her lips only to the magically soft tip, while her hand kept working, bringing him in and out of her mouth as she stretched and manipulated the skin over his cock.

  His groan increased her own passion and she quickened her rhythm, loving the wet sounds, the hard, sexy length of him, the way he responded to increases and decreases of the pressure under her palm and the movements of her tongue and lips.

  “Kim.” He was barely able to speak. “You’re going to make me come.”

  “Is that a problem?” She looked up slyly, took him deeper into her mouth.

  “That’s…up to you.”

  “No problem,” she whispered.

  He sucked in air, gripped her head, pushed so that she no longer felt totally in control, so that he went deeper into her mouth than she would have thought possible. She took him all, let him do what he wanted, her lips tighter and tighter until his fists clenching in her hair and the salty spurt to the back of her throat let her know he’d gotten there.

  She felt satisfaction and triumph, and tenderness that she shoved away, reaching back for the Amazon inside her, the one who could be intimate with a guy and not fall madly in love. Because Nathan’s other women, the others who had done exactly what she just had, were in the room with them. She couldn’t forget.

  “You are—” Nathan lifted her to the opposite side of the mattress, breathing hard, and climbed into bed “—the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

  She didn’t buy it. Not for a second. But it was absolutely what she needed to hear, lying there among all his ghosts.

  “And, Ms. Kimberly, I am going to get you back for what you just did to me.”

  “Oh, no!” She pretended panic. “Have mercy!”

  “None.” His warm hand slid over the slippery material of her gown. When he reached the hem above her knees, he reversed direction, sliding her gown up. Her struggling stopped. She drew in a long breath of pleasure and anticipation.

  He kissed her stomach, once on each pelvic bone, then along the elastic of her panties across her lower abdomen, hesitating one, two, three torturous seconds before pressing his mouth between her legs, his breath hot through the thin cotton. She made herself lie still, absorbing the sensations. Nathan opened his lips, gave her biting kisses, the indirect stimulation making the rush of arousal even more powerful. Her climax started building; Kim held it off, wanting to stay on the edge, loving the feel of his tongue moving against her, pressing and releasing, pushing into her as far as her panties would allow.

  He slid a finger under the material, let it glide over her swollen clitoris, once, then again. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes.” He already knew the answer. She was panting, gripping the bedspread under her, straining her hips up to his mouth. He pulled the elastic aside and buried his tongue inside her, licked up to her clit, back down inside her, and back up to stay.

  Her orgasm hit so fast she barely had time to react, the burn shooting her through with impossible pleasure. Blissful contractions came in waves, again and again, then slowly, slowly down.

  Kim let go of the bedspread. Let her hips relax. Let herself breathe again.

  “Nathan.” She’d done it. She’d survived. Her heart was still intact.

  “Mmm?”

  “I think I enjoyed that.”

  He laughed, repositioned her panties reverently and slid off the bed. “Me, too. Stay here.”

  “Like I could move?”

  He chuckled, left the room, came back with two big glasses of ice water. “Drink?”

  “Mmm, thank you, yes.” She sat up and gulped thirstily, still tasting him, not sure what to expect now. She’d made it this far, but felt a little shaky. He’d want to leave now, right? Wasn’t that what his type did? That would be best. She’d have time here on her own to recover, and figure out what consequences this night would bring to their friendship and to her heart.

  He emptied his glass, reached for hers and put them both on her night table, crawled back into her bed, put his arm around her and pulled her against him.

  Uh-oh.

  “Now. Kim.”

  “Mmm?” She tensed, wary of whatever he was about to say.

  “We are going to solve all your problems.”

  She lifted her head. “What, now?”

  He pushed the bangs from her eyes. “You know a better time?”

  “Uh…” Actually, no. This was fine. Second to him leaving, but fine. As long as they were just talking. “I guess not.”

  “So. What do you want most?”

  She snorted. “That’s easy. A way to win the Carter bid and save Charlotte’s Web.”

  “Okay. Easy.” He trailed his fingers down her bare arm. “I’ll give you that.”

  “Yeah?” She smiled into his beautiful eyes. Don’t get used to this, Kim.
“Gee, that would be super swell, thanks.”

  “I’m serious.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s figure out how you can win it. Tell me what you’ve got for Carter.”

  She rolled away to lie on her back, staring at the ceiling. “You’ve seen the website I designed. Which I love.”

  “Same here. You think it’s missing something. Tell me what.”

  “Something. Some extra special…thing.”

  “Okay. Let’s take this apart. What do customers want?”

  “China and crystal.”

  “Why?”

  “So their tables will look nice. So they can have fancy beautiful parties. So people will be impressed by them. So they can be like Mom and Dad.”

  “Why should they pick Carter?”

  She counted off on her fingers. “Best quality. Good name. Beautiful products. Cutting edge. Impressive pedigree. Will make their tables look fantastic.”

  “How can you let them know all that?”

  She moved restlessly. “Carter reputation takes care of most of it. A great view of the products on the website will help, too.”

  “Yeah, you’ve done that with your design. But that still doesn’t show how it will make their own tables look. For example, I use software that shows a model of the exact building the client wants so he or she can see it.”

  Her brain turned that concept over for one…two…bingo. She sat up abruptly, twisted to look at him. That was it. Exactly. “Yes. Yes, I can. I can do that. Nathan, I love you.”

  His face brightened comically. “Really?”

  “I’m serious. That’s it, Nathan.” She pounded her fist on the bed. “That’s totally it. I can create a program where people can upload pictures of their tables or entire dining rooms or kitchens or whatever, and they can try out the place settings online, right there, to check colors and sizes. The coding would be complicated, but it wouldn’t be anything I’d have to work out for the bid. I could just put in a quick paragraph mentioning it. I can do it right now, in half an hour, tops. Get the whole thing in the mail tomorrow by the deadline. Oh, my God!”

  She was standing next to the bed; she had no idea how she got there. “You are brilliant.”

 

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