Her Best-Kept Secret

by Harlen, Brenda

  “You’re just not used to having any woman turn you down.”

  He shifted his chair closer, his thigh brushing against hers beneath the table. “Could we forget about everyone else and just focus on us for a minute?”

  “I’d rather focus on the music,” she said. “This is one of my favorite songs.”

  “Okay.” His leg rubbed against hers again. “But we’ll get back to this.”

  It was a promise that made her heartbeat quicken.

  Samara finished her song and came back to the table. “Gabe’s up next.”

  “I hope it’s a short one this time,” Jenny said, then grimaced as the first notes of Don McLean’s “American Pie” filled the room.

  “We’re going to need another pitcher of beer, Kazuo.” Samara spoke to the man beside her. Then to Richard she said, “Do you sing?”

  He shook his head. “Not in public.”

  “Everyone has to sing,” Jenny said. “It’s a commitment you make when you walk through the door.”

  “It’s not exactly a rule,” Samara said. “It’s more an expectation.”

  “Of course, if you’re uncomfortable with the thought of getting up on stage, you can sneak out now,” Jenny told him.

  Richard winced as the singer hit a note he’d never heard before. He had some concerns about making a fool of himself, but he was confident he could at least perform better than what they were hearing at present. “I don’t think my Japanese experience would be complete without at least a little karaoke.”

  “I told her you wouldn’t buck at a challenge,” Samara said.

  “Balk,” Jenny told her, scanning the list of song choices. “A buck is a male deer or slang for a dollar.”

  Samara sighed. “Five years of college in America, and I still have trouble with the language.”

  “Your English is a lot better than my Japanese will ever be,” Richard told her.

  She smiled her gratitude as the man who’d gone to get more beer returned with two pitchers. He set them on the table, then sat down beside Samara and laid his arm across her shoulders. It might have been a casual display of affection, but Richard recognized the warning in his eyes and knew it was a blatant display of territoriality.

  Samara rolled her eyes, obviously interpreting the gesture the same way. “This is Richard Warren,” she said. “He’s the lawyer from Chicago that I was telling you about. Richard, this is Kazuo.”

  “You’re Jenny’s friend?” Kazuo asked.

  He wasn’t so sure Jenny would consider him a friend or that he wanted to be classified as such, but he guessed it was a suitable title at present. He nodded and offered his hand.

  Kazuo shook it, his grip more firm than friendly.

  “Richard’s a karaoke virgin,” Jenny leaned over to inform the other man.

  He smirked.

  “I don’t think anyone should have to go it alone their first time,” Samara said, coming to his defense.

  Kazuo stroked his fingers down her arm. “Maybe Jenny could help ease him into it.”

  Jenny was shaking her head before Kazuo finished speaking. “I’m sure Richard can handle it on his own.”

  He set down his empty glass and leaned closer to her. “I can,” he agreed. “But I think I would enjoy being initiated by someone with so much more experience.”

  She glared at him. “You’re falling right into her trap.”

  “I don’t mind being trapped with you.”

  It wasn’t the words so much as the tenor of his voice that made her realize there was a lot more going on beneath the surface of their conversation.

  “I’ve got it,” Samara announced triumphantly, already punching buttons into the machine to program her selection.

  Gabe had finally finished his song and handed the microphone to Kazuo, who passed it to Richard. “You’re on.”

  Richard stood up and took Jenny’s hand.

  “I’m going to kill Samara,” she muttered.

  “I like her,” he said.

  “Then why don’t you sing with her?”

  “Because I also like all my body parts in the right places, and her boyfriend seemed a little too eager to rearrange them.”

  She smiled at that. “Kazuo’s like a big dog—all bark and no bite.”

  “Good to know.”

  “The rest of this crowd is a different story,” she warned. “Do you think you can handle it?”

  “I’m sure I can stumble along if you lead the way.”

  Jenny recognized the opening notes of the song and decided that she might forgive Samara for this—someday. At least it wasn’t a sentimental ballad about endless love or something equally nauseating. She glanced over at Richard. “You could probably still make a break for the door.”

  “Not a chance.”

  There was something in his smile, a distinctly sensual heat underlying the casual curve of his lips. It threw her off balance and made her miss her cue. Then she had to rush the first line to catch up.

  Richard’s smile widened, as if he sensed her discomfiture and knew he was the cause of it. His gaze lingered on hers for a moment before it shifted to the monitor.

  His singing unnerved her as much as the smile. She should have guessed he wouldn’t have risked getting up on stage unless he could carry a tune, but she hadn’t been prepared for how good he was. He had an incredible voice—strong and sure, even singing the sappy lyrics of an old Sonny and Cher tune.

  This time when he smiled, she smiled back.

  He was being a really good sport despite having been coerced to participate and it was, after all, harmless fun.

  And then he touched her.

  In the middle of the stage, under the lights, he’d reached out and stroked his hand down her arm to link with hers as he sang. It was as if the words were intended only for her, and everyone else seemed to fade away.

  Suddenly it wasn’t just fun anymore. It was fun and dangerous, and the emotions swirling inside her were intense and chaotic—fear and need, wariness and wanting.

  She saw the reflection of her own desire in his eyes, but his eyes were unclouded by other emotions. It was simple for him—he wanted her and he intended to have her. He’d already stated that intention clearly and unequivocally.

  It wasn’t that easy for Jenny. She knew if she allowed herself to engage in a physical relationship with him, her heart would inevitably become involved. She wasn’t capable of separating her body from her emotions.

  She sang her lines automatically, as her mind scrambled.

  How had this happened to her? How was it possible to feel so much so soon? How had she let herself become involved when she knew he would only be in Tokyo a few weeks? What happened to the distance she’d vowed to establish? The only distance between them now was a few inches, and that space was filled with simmering heat that was already melting the last of her resolve.

  It wasn’t until the sound of clapping penetrated the heavy throb of blood in her ears that she realized the song was over.

  She tore her gaze from his and forced a smile as she bowed to her friends. She heard someone—Samara, she would bet—calling for an encore. But Jenny was already off the stage, dropping her microphone on the table.

  She made her way down the stairs, pushed through the door and onto the sidewalk. She started to walk with no destination in mind, propelled by a desperate need to breathe, to think.

  But all she could think was that she wanted him. There was no point in trying to deny it any longer. From the moment he’d walked into the bar, she’d known it was too late to hold back any longer.

  She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t eager to jump into another dead-end relationship.

  Richard was only going to be in Tokyo a few more weeks—a month at the most. But right now she couldn’t think of a single reason not to take advantage of every minute they might have together over the next month.

  No reason except that her heart had been broken too many times already. She simply didn’
t have the experience or sophistication to indulge in a casual affair and her heart was too fragile for anything more.

  “Jenny.”

  She wasn’t surprised to hear him call her name. She’d left the bar in a last ditch effort for sanity, knowing that if he followed, there would be no turning away. Not this time.

  She stopped, turned to face him. “I just needed some air.”

  Richard took her hands; her heart stuttered.

  In that moment, she knew everything was about to change. She was done fighting with herself. She’d made a list as long as her arm of all the reasons he was completely wrong for her. Okay, it was really one reason that she’d written over and over again—because he would be going back to Chicago soon.

  She refused to get involved with someone who would soon be more than six thousand miles away.

  But while the rational part of her brain understood that a relationship with Richard was doomed to failure, that part was no match for her need. For days they’d been building toward this moment. The moment when she forgot all the reasons they were completely wrong for each other and let herself get lost in the passion she knew they would discover together.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head again, one last ditch effort to regain her sanity. “Nothing. Really. It’s crazy. I’m crazy.” She laughed. “It must have been the lights.”

  “What must have been the lights?” He asked the question patiently, as if he already knew the answer.

  Of course, he did. He’d been taking it slow to give her a chance to accept what he’d said almost from the beginning was inevitable.

  “Short-circuiting my brain,” she answered.

  He brushed his thumbs over her knuckles—a casual yet somehow sensual gesture that made her ache to feel his touch all over her body.

  She swallowed before admitting, “I was actually thinking of asking you to come home with me.”

  He drew her closer, one corner of his mouth tilting up in a half smile. “Thinking about it?”

  She tipped her head back to look at him and said again. “It was a crazy thought.”

  After a long moment, he finally nodded. “You’re right. And if you’d asked, I would have had to say no.”

  Emotions swirled again. Surprise and regret. Relief and disappointment. Hurt that she could have misread him and the situation. Except that when she lifted her gaze to his again, the stark desire in his eyes conflicted with his response.

  She could feel the heat emanating from his body, feel the sizzle of passion that matched her own.

  “Because it’s crazy?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Because my hotel is closer.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jenny pushed Richard’s jacket over his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She yanked at his tie and tossed it aside. Passion was building, burning, inside her. She started on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to the tender skin at the base of her throat.

  She shivered in response to the deliciously erotic tingles that rocketed through her body. His fingers had made quick work of her buttons and his lips continued to trail kisses along the ridge of her collarbone, then over the slope of her breast. Her head fell back against the door as his teeth closed over her nipple through the lace of her bra.

  It wasn’t enough for either of them. He unfastened the front clasp and pushed the cups aside to cradle her breasts in his palms. His thumbs traced lazy circles around the peaks, moving with tantalizing slowness. She was trembling now, her body pulsating with desire. Then his mouth fastened on her breast, his tongue rasping against the nipple, and the pulse grew stronger, more insistent.

  He slid her skirt and her panties over her hips, down the length of her incredibly long legs, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothing that littered the floor. Then he stepped back to look at her. Except for a pair of stay-up stockings and heels, she was naked, while he still had most of his clothes on. But the blatant appreciation in his eyes obliterated any lingering sense of shyness.

  “Richard.” It was a demand as much as a plea.

  Finally, his lips covered hers in a kiss that was hot and hungry and all encompassing. There was no tentative exploration, no soft seduction. There was just heat and hunger, an escalating passion that could no longer be denied as his tongue slid between her parted lips to tangle with her own.

  She reached for him, finished unfastening the buttons on his shirt and parted the material to reveal the firm expanse of his chest. Her palms slid over the smooth hard skin, reveling in the muscular contours she would never have guessed were hidden beneath the business suits he habitually wore.

  Her hands moved over him greedily, almost desperately. Had she ever wanted anyone so much? Had she ever been wanted the way he seemed to want her?

  She banished these thoughts from her mind. She didn’t want to think or question, she only wanted to feel. She slid her hand down into the front of his pants, heard his sharp inhalation as she wrapped her fingers around the hard length of him.

  He dragged his lips from hers. “I promised myself that if I actually got you up here, I would take my time with you,” he said.

  “I just want you to take me.” She started to push his pants over his hips.

  He put his hands over hers, halting her movements. “Condom,” he said. “I’ve got one in my pocket.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I’m grateful you’re prepared or offended you took it for granted I’d be here.”

  He dipped his head again, nibbled on the lobe of her ear. “Let’s just say I was cautiously optimistic after we said goodbye Wednesday night.”

  “Then I’ll say thank you.” She brushed her lips against his as she took the packet from his hand. Her mouth still thoroughly occupied with his, she managed to tear open the wrapper and roll the prophylactic into place. She swallowed his moan as her fingers slid down the length of him.

  He broke the kiss to press his lips to the side of her throat. “It seems, Jenny Anderson, that you aren’t quite what I expected.”

  She smiled. “Disappointed?”

  His only response was to capture her mouth again as he thrust into her.

  She gasped, a combination of shock and pleasure, as he filled her. He lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. She locked her ankles together, anchoring herself to him. The polished wood of the door was smooth and cool against her back, and she braced herself against it as she tilted her hips to pull him deeper inside.

  Richard groaned into her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips to still her impatient rocking. “I’m trying to maintain some degree of control here.”

  She nipped at his shoulder, then soothed the gentle bite with her tongue. “Control is overrated.”

  He slowly withdrew from her, then sank in again. She gasped.

  “Prove it,” he challenged.

  He moved out and in, deliberately rubbing against the sensitive nub at her center.

  She felt her body tense as her mind struggled to follow the thread of conversation. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps now, her fingernails biting into his back.

  “Let yourself go, Jenny.”

  She couldn’t seem to do anything else as the first climax swamped her, the waves of her release crashing one into another, each stronger and longer than the previous, until her skin was damp and her entire body was shuddering.

  Richard had never seen anything more beautiful than Jenny lost in the throes of passion. It was almost enough to send him spiraling over the edge with her. But not yet.

  He braced his hands on the door and fought to hold on to the last vestiges of his control. The clenching of her muscles around him was almost more than he could stand, but he was determined to show her more. When her trembling had subsided, he wrapped his arms around her and carried her to the bed.

  He lowered her onto the mattress and knelt over her, still buried inside her.

  “Why—”


  He brushed his lips over hers, gently this time. “Because I want to make love with you properly.”

  She smiled. “I didn’t think there was anything improper about what we were doing.”

  “Maybe not,” he agreed. “But I couldn’t hold you up and do this…”

  He dipped his head and took the peak of her breast in his mouth to suckle deeply.

  She moaned.

  “Or this…”

  He slid a hand between their bodies to the soft tangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.

  She gasped.

  “Again,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I can’t—I don’t—”

  “Again,” he repeated, driving her ruthlessly up and over the peak again, proving that she could.

  He crushed his mouth down on hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure. His own needs refused to be denied any longer, and as he drove into her slick, pulsing heat, he plunged over the final, ultimate peak with her.

  “I’m sorry.” Jenny’s words broke the silence.

  Richard propped himself up on an elbow to look down at the woman lying naked beside him. She looked sleepily satisfied, the remnants of a smile tilting the corners of her mouth. She certainly didn’t look sorry.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “Holding out for so long.”

  He brushed his lips over hers. “I’d say it was worth the wait.”

  Her lips curved. “Definitely.”

  “Although that’s not to say I want to wait another ten days before we do it again.”

  She snuggled closer, sliding one long slender leg between his, the tips of her breasts grazing his chest. “What kind of time frame did you have in mind?”

  “About another ten minutes,” he promised.

  Her smile widened and she wriggled against him. His body immediately responded to the seductive movement. He’d barely finished having her, and he already wanted her again.

  “Ten minutes?” she challenged.

  “Maybe less.” He flipped her onto her back and rolled on top of her, capturing her lips, kissing his way down her throat. “I wanted you from the first minute I saw you,” he told her. “Just like this—naked in my bed.”