Emily's Affair (3 page)

"I know," Lee mumbled while Marilyn continued to blather.

"You don't know what you're missing. I know you wanted to save yourself for the right man, but Lee, honey, sweetie, lemon drop, apple dumplin'… men are a part of life. You can't have a full life without, at least once, sampling what they have to offer and some of them… oh, lordy, have they got wares to offer. Take the new delivery boy—and I use the term boy loosely—for instance. He's got great pects, a cute butt, and eyes that match my bedroom. By the way, I called and arranged for the deliveries to be dropped off at my place so Chuckie and I can—"

"Marilyn."

"And he makes the cutest noises when he—"

"Marilyn!"

"It's absolutely adorable. What?"

Lee exhaled a sharp breath.

Marilyn chuckled. "You gonna tell me what I want to know or should I tell you what great things I've taught Chuckie to do with his hands?"

"Did you realize that I'm in the tub?"

"Oh yeah, figured that out when you picked up the phone. Heard the water splashing."

"It's growing cold."

"Only because you're stalling," Marilyn said with a great deal of amusement. "Give in, honey. Either you tell me or I drive over tonight and pry it out of you."

And Marilyn would. Marilyn was one of those rare creatures in this world who was not put off by Lee's curt nature. As far as Marilyn was concerned, when Lee said 'No', it meant 'Talk me into it'.

So Lee gave in. "He's tall, six feet something. Chestnut brown hair with streaks of gold and blond. His eyes are a strange mix of blue, gold, and green; which makes them appear gray. His chin, jaw, and smile make me believe that when he sees something he wants, he gets it."

"Teeth?"

"He's got some."

"Just some?"

Lee smiled. "Okay, he's got a full set and they are pearly white. His smile is a mix between angelic choir boy and Beelzebub. His—"

"Who?"

"The Devil."

"Oh. Go on."

"Thank you. His shoulders are wide and broad. Ever hear the saying that the clothes make the man?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this man makes the clothes." Lee slid her leg back into the water.

"Hmm. What was he wearing?"

"A plain white T-shirt which, I might add, made him look darker than sin. And faded Levi's which are—without a doubt—softer than a baby's bottom."

Marilyn groaned. "Go on. He's perfect, isn't he?"

"Marilyn, honey, darlin', apple dumplin'… he's more than perfect. He is perfection." Lee paused, then added quietly, "I, um, he made me…
you know
."

"What? He made you—"

"With his voice."

"
Ohmigod
. You don't mean that he…? With his…? Lee, he made you— Did he touch you?"

"No, not really." Lee sat up and pulled the phone away from the open window. She related the events at the mailbox, then whispered, "His voice did it. I was so close to…
you know
, that I nearly didn't make it to the stairwell. As soon as I did, I had to hold onto the banister. It was big, Marilyn. Very big."

"Ohmigod," Marilyn breathed. "You had an orgasm because of his voice? Ohmigod."

"Shh, not so loud. I don't want—"

"Don't worry, I'm alone. So what are you going to do about it? Go out with him? He's the one, isn't he? I mean, it's about time. You've been a virgin for far too long. You need to go out and have a wild and—"

Lee chewed on her bottom lip. "I don't know, Marilyn. I don't exactly have time for a wild fling or—"

"There are some things you learn to make time for. What's his name?"

"Jake."

"Jake what?"

"Oh no, I'm not telling you his last name. You'll have Booker check him out and I don't want Booker involved." Emily most certainly did not want Booker, the head of security for Stafford & Co., checking up on Jake. Especially, if she was considering a brief, but wild fling with Jake. And she was considering it. More like fantasizing about it. Nightly. Not to mention daily.

"Lee. You know as well as I that it only makes it easier on everyone involved if you give Booker what he wants. And," Marilyn added pointedly, "Booker will want to know his name. So you might as well tell me, because he's supposed to meet me in a little bit for pizza."

Emily rolled her eyes and decided to change the subject. "Pizza? You didn't invite me."

"I hadn't gotten around to it. Want to come over and have pizza with Booker and me?"

"What kind?"

Marilyn muttered a curse no woman should know let alone understand. "Just get your butt out of the tub and haul it on over. I'll make sure Booker picks up a small cheese for you."

"Don't forget the—"

"Black olives will be on half. Go on and get out of the tub. Pick up some drinks while you're at it. I'll meet you at the house."

"Don't tell Booker about the, um,
you know
."

"Good grief, Lee. Just get out of the tub and haul your fanny on over here."

The slice of pizza was halfway into Booker's mouth when Marilyn, who more than resembled a taller version of Vivien Leigh and spoke with a sugar sweet, Georgia accent reminiscent of Scarlet O'Hara, made her announcement.

"Lee had an orgasm today."

Lee's eyes widened and she dropped her pizza.

Booker dropped his pizza.

Splat
! Both slices hit the table at the same time and Marilyn grinned like the wicked Cheshire cat she was.

"I am going to kill you. It will be a slow, painful death. I'll begin by bending your fingernails backwards and—"

"An orgasm," Booker choked out.

Marilyn gnawed on her pizza. Her green eyes gleamed and she wiggled her eyebrows at Lee.

Booker's dark brown eyes did not gleam. His entire body, which was six and a half feet of solid used-to-be-a-Marine physique, tensed and he looked ready to bolt for the door. "I, um, am happy for you, Lee. I didn't realize that you had, um, never had an orgasm before. Congratulations."

Lee tried her best to fade into the background. "Thank you, Booker."

Marilyn finished chewing and wiped her mouth with a paper towel. "It's the first time I've ever heard of anyone having an orgasm because—"

"Marilyn."

"Of a—"

"Marilyn!"

"Man's voice," Marilyn finished, undaunted.

Lee threw her napkin down on the table. "Dammit, woman, you promised you wouldn't tell him."

"I did not. You asked me not to tell him, but I never said I wouldn't."

"What man?"

Lee glared at Marilyn. "I don't know why I even bother to tell you secrets. You just turn around and blab it to anyone who will listen."

"What man?"

"I do not," Marilyn shot back defensively. "I never told anyone about you being a virgin."

"Oh, that's just great. Why don't you just throw open the windows and shout to the world… Hey everyone, listen up! Emily Katherine Stafford is twenty-eight years old and still a virgin."

"What man," Booker practically shouted.

Lee and Marilyn ignored him.

"I think it's sweet the way you're saving yourself for Mister Right and his magic voice."

Lee rolled her eyes. "I am not waiting for Mister Right. I do not need a Mister Right. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and, for your information, I never said Jake was the right man. I merely said that his voice pushed me over the edge and made me… on the stairs."

"On the stairs? With just his voice?"

"What are you afraid of, Lee? I heard the way you described him on the phone. You sounded like you were this close," Marilyn held her forefinger and thumb a hair's breadth apart, "to being madly and hopelessly in lust."

"Ha! Me? In lust? With Jake? Preposterous. I am the last person on this Earth to ever fall in lust with a man whose name I only found today, Marilyn. I don't know anything personal about him. All I know is that he has a body to die for and a voice which is… pure sin," Lee finished lamely.

How could she get it across to them that there wasn't a place in her life for a Mister Right? That Mister Right wanted more than Lee could give. He would expect her to spend more time with him than her company. He would try and… control her. That's what all men wanted. Control.

Well, she wasn't called Lee-The Barracuda-Stafford for nothing. She didn't need to stand on the shoulders of any man in order to get what she wanted. Lee had built her own company, played hardball with the big boys, and… she wasn't about to give up her life for some man.

That was for damn sure. Lee had worked too hard to get where she was today to let some man come into her life and order her out of the boardroom and into the kitchen.

"Just his voice." Booker whistled appreciatively. "Didn't think it was possible."

"Pure sin?" Marilyn arched a well shaped brow. "Just what I said. Madly and hopelessly in lust."

"I am not," Lee replied.

"Was there just one," Booker asked with extreme interest.

Lee looked at him. "I'm not sure. It went on and on."

"You didn't tell me that," Marilyn said.

"I didn't think you needed to know how long it lasted," Lee shot back.

"How long did it last?"

Lee dropped back into her chair. She picked at the black olives on her pizza. "I didn't time it."

"Give me a guess-timate," Marilyn begged.

"Oh please, Marilyn. It transcended time," Lee drawled sarcastically.

Booker whistled again.

Marilyn paused in the act of drinking her beer. "Smart ass."

"And he didn't touch you," Booker asked.

Lee shook her head. "Nothing that could be described as intimate."

Booker drummed his fingers on the table and looked from Lee to Marilyn. "Have you met him?"

"Nope," Marilyn answered.

"I see." He turned his attention back to Lee. "Are you gonna go out with him?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't decided yet."

"She means he hasn't asked her. She'll go out with him if he asks." Marilyn smirked knowingly. "He's the one she's been waiting for."