Friendly Persuasion (15 page)

Then he’d brought out a Victoria’s Secret catalogue and showed her what he’d ordered for her, so she couldn’t bring herself to ruin the moment by telling him it was over.

She had managed to keep him from adding new fantasies to the list he’d insisted they make by starting a debate about his algae-laden Charlie’s Angels’ shower curtain. She wanted to replace it for the sake of science—there were probably cures for six diseases growing there—and he insisted on keeping it for sentimental reasons. He’d bought it in mint condition at a nostalgia shop and it was exactly like the one he’d lusted over during the onset of puberty.

In the end, she just left with everything unsaid. The taxi fantasy was too exciting, anyway. Now she was waiting for Ross and the taxi and worrying about breaking it off. Water dripped off her nose. Why did he have to be late all the time?

Finally she spotted a beat-up white car with a taxi sign on top approaching. It rattled up to her, some metal part scraping the road and rumbling so loudly the muffler must be gone, then squealed to a halt.

Ross lunged out and loped to her side of the car. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. He even wore a chauffeur’s cap. “The thing was junked up inside so I took it to a car wash, but the vacuum wasn’t working, so I had to go to another one.” He paused, zeroed in on her chest. “The stuff came,” he said in a dazed Ross voice.

She looked down and saw the new Victoria’s Secret teddy was visible through her soaked silk blouse.

“Yes, it did,” she whispered, loving the lust on his face. If they quit now, Ross wouldn’t see the rest of the new lingerie. That gave her heart a pang. Maybe they’d keep on long enough to sample the new outfits—plus, she still had the body paints from the Naughty and Nice lingerie store.
No, no. This has to stop.

“Hop in,” Ross said, doffing his cap. “I know just the place to take you.”

“I’m sure you do,” she said. And she
was
sure, from oh, so many nights with him. She sat, keeping her legs apart so her skirt rode high on her thigh to tantalize him.

Ross made an appreciative noise, then leaned in to help her with the seat belt, deliberately sliding the back of his hands across her breasts and stomach as he adjusted the strap. The sensation set her on fire, as she knew he knew it would.

Ross closed his eyes, obviously trying to gather himself to keep from falling on her.

“I know,” she whispered. She wanted to grab him by his T-shirt and pull him onto her. Why waste time driving when he’d only borrowed the cab for three hours?

But Ross stood with a sigh. “Hang on. We’ll get there soon enough, miss.” He tipped his hat again and went to the driver’s seat.

She noticed that the dusty, musty, motor-oil smell of most cabs had been masked by car freshener. Ross had been late trying to make their fantasy lovelier.
See how thoughtful he is.

But it has to stop,
she reminded herself. No more after this.

They set off, the rain tapping cozily on the roof of the cab, the wipers swishing rhythmically—at least
they
worked. Ross pointed out landmarks and historical places, giving everything a colorful flair.

She recognized the information from an ad campaign they’d done for the city’s visitors’ bureau, though she was surprised at how much Ross had retained. He acted as if he didn’t care about anything but the art of a project, but he absorbed all the nuances. She’d been right to put the bug in Siegel’s ear about him taking over the creative department manager’s job.

She’d done that yesterday over Tina’s objections.
What are you doing? Giving Ross a makeover? Turning him into someone you could fall in love with?
If only Tina would pull her punches a little. Kara was just helping Ross. The fact she was about to end their game proved it.

She hadn’t mentioned it to Ross yet, knowing he’d bristle. She’d let Siegel talk to him first, though she had put together a quick résumé to remind Saul of all Ross had to offer S&S.

She leaned against the back of the cab seat to soak up the precious moments of the last fantasy. The rain-polished streets seemed magical, with taillights and streetlights glowing red, green, yellow in smeared haloes of color like a holiday display. Ross spun his web of Phoenix tales, letting her see things through his eyes, making ordinary places seem mysterious, fascinating, fresh.

The windows hummed open. “The desert offers a lot,” Ross said, “but it’s subtle and full of surprises. Take rain. It can be a soft sun shower or a fierce flash flood that tears through washes like a burst dam. Breathe it in.”

She inhaled deeply, loving the way the air was thick with moisture. She’d been so annoyed with Ross’s lateness that she’d forgotten how much she loved rain—so rare in the Valley that each shower was an occasion to celebrate.

“That spicy smell is creosote,” Ross explained, “otherwise known as greasewood. Practical and magical. Used as a sealant, in cosmetics and herbal remedies. Some herbalists consider it to have mystical properties.”

“So lovely,” she said on a sigh. Little flicks of rain struck her like wet sparks.

She saw they were near Papago Park, driving past the smooth red stones with their Swiss-cheese caves and holes.

“That’s the Tovrea Castle,” Ross said, pointing out the mansion on a hill, built deliberately to look like a birthday cake with saguaro cactus on terraced landscaping as the candles. “They say if you wish on the castle at sundown, your wish will come true twice over.”

“Really?” she asked.

“And what would you wish for, miss?”

That this would never end. That they could just keep driving their taxi around forever. “I don’t know,” she lied.

He was quiet for a long moment. “Maybe we both have the same wish.” Had he read her mind? Did he want to work out a way to keep on? “Sometimes two strangers and their secret wishes can be…intimate.”

Right. He was talking about their game, not their future. Good reminder. She leaned back and watched the scenery go by, wistful but relaxed, loving the flick of rain on her cheek.

They headed across the Tempe Bridge, its looping white lights making it seem like an entrance to a fairyland, then backtracked under the bridge to a deserted stretch of road where Ross parked on the shoulder.

She was almost sorry they’d stopped. She was so happy riding with Ross in the rain, talking about the town they both loved, letting him open her eyes to the subtle things she often missed but he never did.

But when Ross climbed into the back seat with her, bringing in the smell of rain and creosote, and her heart started pounding in that familiar way, she was glad they’d pulled over.

Ross tossed his cap onto the front seat and looked at her. “You’re so pretty.”

“Is my mascara all over?” She rubbed under one eye, but he stopped her hand.

“You’re beautiful. How many times do I have to say that?”

“You make me feel that way,” she said, cupping his jaw with both hands, her chest tight with emotion.

“I just say what I see. You know that.”

She did. She loved his honesty.

He cupped her face, too, and they just looked at each other, breathing each other’s breath in the dark, warm cocoon of the cab. The rain tapped gently on the roof and moist air billowed in from the open windows. An occasional raindrop touched Kara’s skin, giving cool delight. Over Ross’s shoulder, the lights from the bridge winked and gleamed, their reflections softly brilliant on the wet tarmac.

They should be exchanging fake names and talking through her fantasy, but tonight was their last time, so Kara was in no hurry to get into the game. Ross seemed okay with the delay. It was almost as if he knew tonight was different.

“Do you know your wish?” Ross asked, speaking in character.

You forever,
she wanted to say, not as a lonely cab fare, but as Kara, rain-damp and full of feelings that had nothing to do with a sexual fantasy and everything to do with the tender, amazing man holding her face in his hands.

She couldn’t do that, so she kissed him, reminding them both why they were here. Ross caught on. Fast. She welcomed his mouth, like the desert welcomed this rare rain, and lost herself in sensation.

Ross slid his hand under her skirt and traced the line of the teddy the way that always set her on fire.

“Oh,” she rasped, loving the flames licking through her on familiar pathways.

“Is this your wish?” he asked. “That I touch you here?”

“Oh, yes.”

He tugged at the snaps, which he knew were there since he’d picked out the item, and then his fingers found their way to the warm wet place they belonged. “I know you like that,” he murmured, “because of the way you’re breathing now, and you always turn red right here.” He kissed her neck on the spot.

She should remind him that they were supposed to be strangers to each other—a cabdriver and his world-weary passenger—but his intimate knowledge of what aroused her was too wonderful. She no longer cared about protecting the game or obeying the rules. She wanted to hear every precious word he said, to memorize every look, every intimate glance so she could remember later when she was alone and lonely.

“And right before you come, your eyes go cloudy, the tip of your tongue sticks out just a little, and your face gets this amazing light, like you’ve never had anything this wonderful happen to you before.”

“I never have,” she murmured.

“Then I know it’s time to do this.” He made a quick circular stroke.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.” It was starting now. She’d climax too soon. She stopped his hand.

He chuckled softly. “I know. You want to come with me inside you. Don’t worry.”

She didn’t worry at all. She knew everything would work perfectly, the way it always did.

She reached to unzip his pants. These were the jeans with the zipper that stalled a little. She bent it to the left and eased the tab down. There was Ross—warm and velvet and hard as steel. She gripped him the way he loved, squeezing and sliding with the pressure that made him groan and push into her.

“You know me so well,” he said, letting her stroke him, while he watched. Then he slid a hand under her blouse to tease her nipple. Her hand on him stilled as she was swept away for a bit. But he always catered to her. This time—this last time—she would focus on him first.

“I want to taste you,” she said, and maneuvered herself into the space between the seats to take him into her mouth.

He grasped her hair and whispered words of pleasure.

She slid her lips up and down, loving the delicious blend of rain-wet air and his salty taste and the soft-hard length of him. She listened to his breathing, its fits and starts telling her what felt best, though she already knew it by heart.

When he was close, she redoubled her efforts, but he lifted her up to kiss her mouth. “I want to watch you come,” he said.

“You first,” she said, trying to return to him.

“Stay up here,” he said, his eyes teasing, even as he held her firmly by the shoulder.

“Uh-uh,” she said, laughing but trying to wrestle out of his grip. “Ouch.” She banged her shoulder on the back of the driver’s seat.

“Get up here, woman,” he commanded.

“No!” she said, almost laughing as they wrestled for dominance in the who-climaxes-first struggle. “Ouch. That hurts.” Her skin had gotten pinched between his elbow and the seat.

“Hold it right there!” An official male voice commanded from outside the window.

Kara yelped and they both froze and looked up. A police officer sheathed in a raincoat was looking in the window from a few feet away.

Ross couldn’t believe this was happening. He made sure Kara was covered before he saw to his zipper. “What is it, Officer? Am I parked illegally?” He hoped that was the only unlawful thing they’d been doing.

“Keep your hands where I can see them and step out of the car,” the cop said.

Ross did as he’d been told, holding his hands out, open-palmed, feeling like a criminal. This was surreal. Like their arrest fantasy, only not at all fun. He took a fleeting look around to see if, by chance, they were being videotaped for some reality cop show, but the only person in sight was this stern-looking patrolman, who motioned him away from the car and, keeping one eye on him, spoke through the open door to Kara. “Are you all right, miss?”

“I’m fine, Officer. We’re both fine.” Kara scrambled out of the car. “Is there a problem?”

The cop looked from her to him, assessing their honesty, then frowned at Ross. “Let me see your license, registration and proof of insurance, please.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” Ross said. He fumbled around in the cab until he found where Roger kept the official papers and handed them with his driver’s license to the policeman.