Negligee Behavior

by Shelli Stevens

  “And Elena?”

  Brandy sighed. “Sebastian drove her home.”

  Good. Sebastian would make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble. And stay the hell away from that bastard drummer, in case she got any ideas in her head to make up with him.

  “They won you know.”

  “Who did?”

  “Your sister’s band.”

  His chest expanded with pride as he drew in a slow breath. “Really?”

  “Really. When we tallied the audience votes, they chose Bitches Brew hands down.” Brandy crossed one leg over the other and the leather skirt hiked up another inch on her thigh.

  Oh damn, had she done that on purpose? The blood rushed south in his body and he flexed his jaw.

  “I think she was pretty disappointed that you weren’t out there to see her win.”

  “Elena probably would have hit me herself if I’d come back out there.” He shook his head and averted his focus from Brandy’s legs.

  “That’s not true. In fact…I think it pleased her. Having her big brother stick up for her that way.” Brandy giggled and cleared her throat. “Even if you, err, hit the wrong guy.”

  “Yeah. Minor mistake. Sebastian fixed it for me though.”

  “Yeah he did. But I know you were itching to get in a punch too.” The light feminine giggle she made broke any control he had left. He tossed the ice pack in the garbage can and closed the distance between them. Stepping between her legs as she sat on the counter.

  She slid her hands onto his shoulders.

  “You’re not mad at me?” His voice turned husky as he kissed the spot just below her ear.

  “I…ah, no, I’m not mad.” Her words were breathy. “I understand how much you care about your sister. I actually think it’s sweet you went to her defense.”

  “Mmm.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth and drew his tongue across the soft flesh. “You know what?”

  “What?” she gasped out the word and squirmed against him.

  “I don’t want to talk about my sister anymore.”

  “Good thing, because I don’t either.” She gave a ragged sigh and tilted her head, giving him access to the side of her throat.

  He nuzzled her neck and breathed in the familiar scent of apples—her perfume that had once seemed so strange, now drove him wild anytime he got near her.

  “Marco…”

  “Yes, princess?” He slid his hands up her legs, pushing the leather dress further up her thighs.

  “You know that scene in Pretty Woman where Richard Gere does Julia Roberts on the piano in the bar?”

  He lifted his head, her random question making him pause. “No. I’ve never watched Pretty Woman.”

  “God, you should be arrested.”

  He shook his head, his thumbs moving over the inside of her thigh. “So what are you saying? You want to have sex on a piano?”

  “It could be fun.” She met his heated look head-on through lowered lashes. “What do you think?”

  His dick rose in response, his mind already imagining the possibilities. He’d made the suggestion as a joke, in no way thinking she could be serious. Hell, why wouldn’t she be though? The woman was a choir teacher.

  “It’s a fantasy of mine,” she went on in a rush. “And since we brought in that piano for the competition…”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, umm…” She ran her hands down his chest and he drew in a swift breath. “you think you can accommodate me on that, Mr. Vargas?”

  “I think, Ms. Summers…” He slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up. “You’ll find me incredibly accommodating.”

  He closed his mouth over hers and slid his tongue past the seam of her lips. She sighed and wound her arms around his neck as her legs wrapped around his waist.

  Catching her fleshy bottom lip between his teeth, he gave it a light nip before running his tongue over it. Her soft cry sent his pulse into overdrive.

  “God, I want you,” he rasped. He adjusted his grip on her, his fingers digging into her bottom as he carried her into the bar.

  “I want you too.” She buried her face against his neck, her breath warm against his skin. “I haven’t stopped wanting you since the minute I hijacked your bike.”

  Her words sent a thrill of possessiveness through him. Mine. The need to possess her, claim her, came on fierce. He set her down on the edge of the shiny black surface of the piano.

  “We should probably be careful,” she warned hesitantly. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea. We did borrow it from one of your customers. And if anything happens—”

  “You’re right. We should just fuck on the counter of the bar.”

  Her eyes widened and then she gave a soft laugh. “You’re so bad, Marco.”

  His mouth curved. “And you love it.”

  “You know…maybe we should save the piano fantasy for the one at my house sometime.”

  Her house? Was that an invitation into her world? The idea didn’t seem so intimidating; in fact it kind of pleased him.

  He dropped a hard kiss on her mouth and then lifted her up again, carrying her to the bar counter and then set her on top.

  She sat a few inches above him now, so that she looked down at him, her lips swollen from his kisses and her eyes shiny with desire. His blood pounded a little faster and he couldn’t look away from her. Damn, she was so beautiful. Such an amazing woman in every aspect. He didn’t deserve her.

  “So are you going to just stand there looking?” she asked with an arch of her eyebrow. “Or were you going to, err, fu—fu…make love to me on the bar.”

  He gave a husky laugh and pushed her legs apart to step between them. Hmm. This position might be a little bit of a challenge as well. But hell, nobody said he didn’t like a challenge.

  He cupped the side of her face. “Can’t quite bring yourself to say fuck, can you, princess?”

  She didn’t answer right away but something in her expression shifted. There was hesitancy. Vulnerability.

  “I can say it,” she said quietly and her tongue swept across her bottom lip. “I’m just not sure I can reduce what we do together as a fuck anymore—see I said it.”

  His pulse slowed and then sped right back up again. The meaning of her words resounded in his head. It was more than sex to her. More than sex.

  “Oh jeez, I’m so sorry.” She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just made things weird, didn’t I? I tend to do that sometimes.”

  His mouth dried out. Did this mean she cared for him? It couldn’t be love. Hell, they hadn’t even known each other two weeks.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispered and tried to slide off the counter.

  “No,” he said fiercely and caught her around the waist, holding her still. “No. Nothing’s weird.”

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  It wasn’t weird at all. What was weird was the fact he wanted to admit he felt the same. That whatever they had together had bypassed the just sex part a few days ago. Fear and doubt roared up inside him. Along with the knowledge of how exposed he’d be if he admitted his feelings aloud. The words locked in his throat.

  Seeing the raw vulnerability on her face, Marco answered her in the only way he could. Her lips parted on a sigh of relief when his mouth closed over hers. His tongue moved inside in search of hers. They met in a collision of hot, wet friction as they teased each other.

  Sliding his hands up her waist and behind her, he found the zipper on the leather dress. He tugged it down to her waist, never moving his mouth from hers.

  She tugged his shirt from his jeans and lifted it upward. He ripped his mouth from hers just long enough for her to pull it over his head and off his body. Then his mouth covered hers again as her fingernails raked down his naked chest.

  He fumbled with the hooks on the back of her strapless bra, attempting patience until each hook had been undone and he was able to tug the smooth bra from her body. Her bre
asts fell heavily into his hands and his breath caught, his thumbs already stroking the hardened tips.

  She angled her head with a sigh, giving him deeper access to her mouth. Her tongue rubbed against his in a quick sensual stroke and then retreated. She repeated the process until his blood pounded thick in his veins and his erection became painful.

  Marco pulled his mouth from hers and drew in an unsteady breath. “I want you.”

  “Yes,” she whispered and reached for the fly of his jeans.

  He curled his fingers around her wrist, halting her progress. “But not here. Not on the counter in a bar.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t understand.”

  “You were right earlier.” His jaw hardened. “You deserve more than getting fucked on the counter of a bar.”

  Brandy could almost feel her heart expanding to let Marco inside a little more. Her breasts ached for his mouth, already she could envision the sensation he’d create when he touched her that way. And a heavy pressure lingered between her legs that only he could ease.

  She pulled his hand up to her face and laid it against her cheek. “Thank you. For wanting to take me back to your place and make it more romantic.” She tilted her head against his palm and kissed the tip of his thumb. “But right now I just need you. I don’t care if it’s in a bed, on your desk again, or half on the counter of a bar.”

  His nostrils flared and she heard his swift indrawn breath.

  “You kind of like that last visual, don’t you?” she asked, her voice husky.

  “Hell yeah.” He pressed his thumb against the seam of her lips, his gaze never leaving hers.

  She opened her mouth and drew the padded tip of his thumb into her mouth. Her tongue played with the tip, her lips curving into a smile.

  A shudder visibly racked his body. “Are you sure, princess? I can wait until we get back to my place.”

  “Noble of you.” She released his thumb and dragged his hand down her body, not stopping until she reached the final destination between her legs. “But I can’t.”

  “Well then.” He tugged her dress down over her hips and then completely off her body. “I guess we’d better do something about that.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Damn, Brandy.” He groaned and cupped the mound of her sex through her panties. “Undressing you is like opening a different present each time. I never know what I’m going to find underneath your clothes.”

  Brandy gave a soft laugh and lifted her hips so he could dispose of the silky black thong as well.

  “Well, I’m glad my underwear gives you such a thrill. Especially since I’ll be in control of the company that makes it some day.”

  He paused. “Really?”

  “Well, they don’t call me the Lingerie Heiress for nothing.” She gave a light shrug. Why had she brought this topic up now? It’d never been one of the more comfortable discussions. “But who knows, I may step down.”

  “Seriously? Why would you—?”

  “Can we not…” she said as she cut him off quickly, running her hands over his naked chest. “…talk about this now. It was a mistake to bring it up. Especially at this moment.”

  He stared at her for a second longer before giving a slow nod.

  “Of course. We don’t have to talk about it. Besides, we were just about to…”

  “About to?” She raised an eyebrow and swung her legs which dangled over the counter. She arched her back and her breasts moved closer to his face.

  “We were about to.” He smiled and cupped her breasts again. His head lowered and then his tongue swept across one of her nipples.

  Fire jolted through her body at the first touch. He drew the tip into his mouth, sucking, and her muscles turned to mush. He slipped an arm around her waist, encouraging her body to arch into his touch.

  “I love the way you taste,” he murmured, moving to pay attention to the other nipple.

  She gave a strangled groan, and then teased, “Like Brandy?”

  “Better than any brandy I’ve ever tasted.” He buried his face between both her breasts and sighed.

  “You’ve obviously never had Hennessy Ellipse.” She laughed and drew in a ragged breath.

  He lifted his head, his expression serious. “I don’t want some fancy top-shelf booze when I can have you.”

  His comment should have sounded a bit cheesy, yet hearing Marco say it made her sigh like a schoolgirl.

  Her body still hummed from his touch, wanted more of it. The need to have that complete physical connection hit suddenly and powerfully.

  Trying to keep things light, she murmured, “You know. If you took your jeans off, we could get to the fun part.”

  “You mean this isn’t the fun part?” He grinned and stepped back from between her legs.

  Her gaze dropped to where his long fingers unbuttoned his jeans. Then the slow, drive-you-crazy way he pulled the tab down through the teeth of the zipper.

  “Marco,” her voice cracked. “Please.”

  He paused and grabbed a condom out of his pocket.

  “Come here,” he whispered a moment later and pulled her hips off the bar.

  She slid half off the counter, wrapping her legs around his waist but kept her elbows braced on the bar.

  He kneaded her bottom and kissed her neck, but didn’t yet enter her.

  She groaned in frustration and tried to lower herself onto his erection.

  “Marco.”

  He gave a soft laugh and adjusted his hold on her, before slowly lowering her down onto him. She released the bar and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him support her weight.

  The breath locked in her throat as he slid, inch by inch, inside her. Only when he fully joined their bodies and was buried to the hilt, did she release the air stranded in her lungs.

  They stayed locked together, not moving right away. His ragged breaths blew warm air onto her neck, and she could feel the pounding of his heart against her chest.

  “Why do you effect me this way?” he asked on a hoarse whisper.

  She closed her eyes. “I have no idea. But you do the same to me.”

  He moved his hips, sliding out of her a bit and then thrust back inside.

  “It’s damn crazy.”

  “Complete madness,” she agreed and gasped when he hit an ultrasensitive spot inside her.

  The conversation died as they found their rhythm together. He moved inside her with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each time he sank back inside her, her heart swelled with emotion. A phrase looped in her head as the pleasure inside spiraled her higher toward a climax. I love this man.

  “Brandy.” He groaned her name and then his mouth covered hers again.

  She kissed him back as if her life depended on it. Her eyes burned with tears as she stroked her tongue against his, slanting her mouth to bring him deeper.

  His movements inside her quickened. Became more urgent. Not quite as steady. She met each one, pressing herself down onto him and gripping him with her inner muscles.

  He gasped against her mouth, his fingers biting into the flesh of her bottom. He angled their bodies so there was just enough pressure in the right area to send her over the edge.

  Pleasure spread to every inch of her body, a wave of light-headedness hit and flashes of color danced behind her closed lids.

  He thrust deep into her and stayed. His groan ripped through the bar as he found his own release.

  “Brandy, oh God, I think I’m in…” He went still.

  Her heart pounded faster and she stared with wide eyes at the wall. I think I’m in…what had he been about to say?

  Marco sighed, his grip tightening on her as he buried his head into the curve of her neck.

  “It’s late,” he finally said.

  She closed her eyes, disappointment blooming in place of the fading pleasure. What had she expected? That he’d confess his love for her? Silly fool, you always were too romantic.

  “We should head back to my place.”

>   She gave a jerky nod, drawing in an unsteady breath. “I am a little tired.”

  “Just a little?”

  He set her down; she gripped his shoulders to keep her knees from buckling.

  “Okay, a lot. I’m glad we cleaned this place up before I came back to get you.”

  “Ditto. I don’t have the energy to do more than pass the hell out.” He tossed the condom into the garbage.

  Brandy picked up her clothes off the floor and slipped back into them, stifling another yawn. She noted it was after three.

  “Good lord, do we really have to be here at ten tomorrow?”

  “No.” He pulled on his jeans. “Sebastian is going to pull a double and Valerie’s coming in early.”

  “Really?” Brandy slipped her shoes on. “What’s going on?”

  He shrugged, obviously trying to look casual, but she wasn’t convinced.

  “Elena convinced me to go have dinner with my dad.”

  Brandy’s lips parted and she took a slow breath in. “Marco, really? That’s wonderful.”

  He thrust a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I…it’s overdue. Would you come with me?”

  Her surprise doubled. “You want me to come with you?”

  “If you don’t want to that’s all right. I can—”

  “I want to,” she said quickly and then softened her voice. “Of course I want to. I’d love to.”

  “Thank you.” He grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “It means a lot.”

  “I’m glad I’ll be there.” She held his gaze. That magnetic pull she always experienced between them increased until her heart fluttered wild in her chest.

  His traced the inside of her palm and then cleared his throat. “Why don’t you grab your stuff? I’ll lock up.”

  “All right. Give me just a second.” She tugged her hand away with reluctance, and went into the back to grab her purse.

  When she came back out front Marco stood waiting by the door, fully dressed.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and pushed open the door, stepping into the warm night. Marco followed after her and they made their way toward his bike.

  “Tonight went pretty well, I think,” she said once they were standing under a streetlamp beside his motorcycle.