Hands On (9 page)

“But you don't want to miss massage class.” He started to pull the door closed behind him.

“Being here is pointless. I was wrong to insist Dalton and I come here. Our marriage is over.”

“Now, now, don't be so hasty.”

She sniffed. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated. “Are you sure you don't want to finish massage class and meet later?”

She nodded, even more curious now as to why he didn't want her in his office. “I'd rather talk to you.”

“Of course. Give me just a moment to straighten up.” He gave her one of his “charming” smiles and then disappeared, closing the door behind him.

Cassie muttered a curse. She wasn't going to get anywhere now that he knew she was in the house. Except maybe open the door for Bask to approach her. She sighed. That hadn't been her objective. Unfortunately, that was her only hope of making any headway with him.

A couple of minutes later he opened the door again, his smarmy smile in place as he stepped aside to let her pass him. “Please, come in.”

He gestured her to a chair facing his desk, and fortunately not the couch against the opposite wall. He waited for her to sit before he took his own seat behind the desk.

She sighed. “I wish Dalton was as gentlemanly and
courteous as you. With all his family's money you'd think he would have learned some manners.”

“Now, Cassie, I'm sure Dalton has many other good qualities.”

“Name them.”

Bask laughed. “You married him. Something attracted you.”

“It wasn't the money,” she said quickly. “I've never been a pauper myself.”

“Of course not.” He waved a dismissive hand. “If it were just about money you wouldn't be here.” He paused, pursing his lips. “Although I trust you won't be left destitute should the marriage not remain intact.”

“I'm not foolish, Mr. Blankenship. I'll be well provided for.” And then she quickly added, “But it really isn't about the money.”

“Please call me Robert.” His smile gentled. “I understand. You want Dalton to pay attention to you.” His gaze wandered briefly to her chest. “You're a beautiful woman, Cassie. You deserve his attention.”

Her blush was genuine. At least she could report to Jennifer that Bask had a wandering eye. He gave her the creeps. She wanted to get up and run back to the pool but she forced a smile and a sigh. “You really need to give him lessons in charm.”

“You flatter me—”

Behind him, the fax machine started. He snapped his gaze around to the paper sliding out. When he faced her again, he seemed nervous. “Cassie, why don't you give Dalton a chance.” He got up and came
around the desk. “At least complete the week,” he added distractedly.

“I suppose I could…”

He extended a hand, and when she took it, he pulled her to her feet. “Please excuse me. I have some urgent business to attend to. We'll talk again later, all right?”

“Of course.” She gave him a girlie smile. “Robert.”

He squeezed her hand and walked her to the door. “Go enjoy the massage class.”

After the door closed, she heard the lock click.

Damn!

 

“I
HOPE Y'ALL
do better with your one-on-one sessions,” Mary Jane said, while wringing out her wet hair. “Most of our guests love to learn the art of massage.”

After Grant and Tom joined the party, their romp in the pool had lasted nearly forty minutes, mostly thanks to Dalton. He kept the playful water fights going long after Mary Jane had wanted to call it quits. Zelda and Kathy never did join them in the water, which turned out for the best because Mary Jane still hadn't appeared to notice that Cassie was missing.

Dalton kept his eye out for her return and as soon as he thought he saw her hovering behind a tree, he grabbed a towel.

“Hey, M.J., let me help you dry your back.”

She turned to look at him with wide startled eyes, and then a tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Sure.”

She started to turn around to give him her back, but
he quickly threw the towel around her to keep her prisoner, facing him, to keep her from spying Cassie. He rubbed her back with the towel, and then drew it over her buttocks. Mary Jane pressed her breasts against him, and over her shoulder he watched Cassie slip back into the group.

Zelda gave him a nasty look of disapproval. Simone's stare was murderous. She still hadn't put her top back on and her nipples stuck out to Alaska. He looked away and focused on Cassie as he stepped away from Mary Jane.

“There you go. All nice and dry.”

At his abrupt withdrawal, she pursed her lips in a pout. “I think you might have missed a couple of spots.”

“Sorry.” He handed her the towel and went to sit beside Cassie.

Mary Jane's gaze followed him and she frowned suddenly, probably realizing she hadn't seen Cassie for over half an hour.

He put his arm around Cassie's shoulders and kissed the side of her neck. She started to pull away until he whispered, “Find anything?”

She stilled and then snuggled against him. “I think Bask may have gone through our room.”

“Just ours?”

“I don't know.” She shifted positions and made a face at something near the pool. “I wish Simone would put her damn top on.”

“Why?”

“You have to ask?”

He shrugged. “The more distractions the better.
Even ol' Tom there is having trouble keeping his eyes strictly on his wife.”

“Oh, so maybe I should take my shirt off, too. Give them all something new to look at while you go nose around.”

“Sure. Not a bad idea.”

She reached for the hem of her T-shirt but he stopped her. “Nah, you don't have to do that.”

“I don't mind.”

He held on to her hand. “Don't do it, Cassie.”

“Why not?”

“I don't want you to.”

“Ah, gee, you should have told me right off the bat. That would have been reason enough.” She rolled her eyes skyward, shook free of him and continued to lift her shirt high enough that he caught a glimpse of pink lace before he grabbed her hand again, this time a little too harshly.

“What's the matter with you?” She tried to twist out of his grasp. “I'm only trying to help.”

What the hell was the matter with him? Why should he care if she took off her shirt, her bra or any other garment she wanted to? She wasn't his wife. She wasn't even his girlfriend. And yet the thought of any of the pecker-head men at this low-rent Shangri La taking a look at Cassie's bare breasts made him see red. Hell, he was nuts. He'd never been jealous a day in his life. Not even with Linda, when he'd had good reason to be. What he needed was to get a damn grip.

He let her go and rubbed the back of his neck. This was not good. Not good at all.

She studied him for a minute. “Okay, if it bothers you that much, I won't.” She tugged her shirt back down, which solved the obvious problem. It didn't do squat to relieve what was going on inside his head. The only thing he could think to do was get them back on track. He put his arm around her shoulders again and drew her close. “About Bask. What makes you think he'd been in our room?”

“My suitcase isn't the way I left it,” she said and then shocked him by kissing the side of his jaw.

He jerked back to look at her and she kissed him on the mouth. Not hard but determined enough to get his ticker going in full gear.

“Relax,” she whispered, her lips curving into a coy smile. “I don't want our little tête-à-tête to look suspicious.”

“Right.” Right, his ass. What was she up to? Shit, was he that obvious about being—he couldn't even say the word.

“Of course Tasha may have been straightening the room. But my suitcase was in the closet. There'd be no reason for her to go in there.”

“Unless she's nosy.”

“Maybe…” She lightly bit his earlobe, and then laved it with her tongue.

“Cassie, what are doing?”

“I told you.” She ran the tip of her tongue around his ear which had a direct connection to his cock, it seemed, as his pants got tighter by the second.

“All you're doing is calling attention to us.”

“Hmm?”

He closed his eyes, willing his hard-on away. She had to know how turned on he was getting. What the hell was she doing? Was this payback?

“Hey, you two,” Mary Jane called in an impatient voice. “We're ready to resume here.”

“Ooh,
resume,
big word for her,” Cassie whispered as she ignored Mary Jane and trailed her lips along his jaw to his mouth.

She tilted her head and teased his lips open with her tongue. She took her time, sweeping the inside of his mouth, sucking his lower lip and biting it lightly.

“Excuse me.” Mary Jane stood a foot away, waited for them to break it up and glared at Cassie. “You'll have plenty of time for that later.”

Cassie arched her brow. “Sorry, I didn't hear you.” She stood and extended her hand to Dalton. “Come on, honey, we're getting to the good part.”

She lifted her chin as she led him back toward the pool, leaving Mary Jane to stare after them with a murderous glint in her eyes.

“I get it,” Dalton said when they were out of earshot. “You're jealous.”

“Oh, please.” She released his hand.

“You are. You're jealous because of the massage and the way she—”

Cassie stopped and faced him, her hand up. “Wait a minute. In order for me to be jealous wouldn't that mean I'd have to at least like you?” She gave him a smug smile. “Case closed.”

He grinned. “Denial isn't just a river in Egypt.”

“Oh, how clever. I'm going to tell you one more
time. That was an act so that we could talk privately. Besides, I promised Robert I'd come back to class and at least try to be civil.”

Dalton grunted, and then her words registered. “You spoke to him?”

“Yep.”

“Just now?”

She nodded. “So it doesn't matter if Mary Jane knows I left the group.”

“Did he catch you snooping?” he asked and she shook her head. “What did he say?”

“Nothing important, unfortunately. Besides, we can't talk right now.” Cassie started to head toward the others again. He caught hold of her hand and drew her back to him.

“Come on, sweetheart, how about another kiss?” he said loudly, and then whispered, “What the hell happened?”

“Later.”

He kissed her hard, trying to let her know she couldn't brush him off so easily. If she had information, he wanted it.

She gave him a smile that made him uneasy as she snuggled closer, placing her hands on his chest. One hard shove and he stumbled backward. A second later he was back in the pool.

“O
KAY
,
NOW WE BREAK
into couples,” Mary Jane said, “and practice what we've learned about massage and touching.”

Cassie inclined her head toward Dalton and muttered, “If she says
we
one more time I may have to hurt her.”

He didn't respond. He was probably still ticked off over falling into the pool an hour ago. Why should she care? He'd asked for it. As if he hadn't been trying to goad her…

“Explain what you mean by breaking into couples.” Harvey grinned. “Does it have to be with your wife?” Zelda elbowed him and he grunted with the jab. “I was only joking, honey bunny.”

“I don't know why she puts up with him,” Cassie whispered to Dalton, already forgetting that he wasn't speaking to her.

“Zelda's the one with the money. He doesn't have a cent.”

“How do you know?”

“Simone told me.”

“When did you talk to her?”

“When you disappeared this morning during our
session.”
Like a sulky child,
she thought, but wisely didn't verbalize.

“Find out anything else?”

“Just chit-chat girl stuff. Nothing useful.”

Mary Jane kept giving them dirty looks as she explained to the group the importance of reconnecting through what she called courtship-touching. If they kept up their little sidebar, she'd probably ask if they had anything they'd like to share with the class.

“One more thing.” Dalton shifted so that their shoulders touched, and to Cassie's utter amazement, she had a little tingling reaction. “Did you have anything in your suitcase or purse that would be incriminating?”

“Of course not.” That chafed. She wasn't a rookie. Well, not really. “Did you?”

“Seriously, you don't have any ID or anything that would compromise us.”

“Seriously,
no.
” Her reply came out more harshly than she intended.

His expression softened. “Look, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I just don't want any surprises.”

His lack of confidence did hurt. She only regretted that he'd apparently seen it in her face. She focused on Mary Jane and tried not to think about the heavy feeling in her chest.

It didn't work. She couldn't let go of the hurt. Dalton had really disappointed her, and worse, to a degree more than she understood. Would he have asked one of his colleagues from the bureau that same question? Of course not. He'd have assumed that he or she knew
better than to pack anything that would blow their cover.

“Hey.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “By the way, good work going to the house and checking on our boy.”

The unexpected praise eased some of the ache. But she wasn't so sure he hadn't said that to placate her.

He leaned his head closer again. “How can you tell that a blonde used the computer last?”

She turned to look at him in amazement. And she'd thought he wanted to soothe her. What a jackass.

“Give up? There's whiteout on the screen.”

Cassie shook her head in disgust and looked straight ahead into Mary Jane's annoyed gaze. She'd stopped talking and everyone turned around to look at Cassie and Dalton.

“Did you have a question about erogenous zones?” she asked with a teacher's sternness.

They were talking about erogenous zones? Wow, Cassie really hadn't been paying attention.

Neither had Dalton from the expression on his face. But he quickly masked his surprise and gave a casual shrug. “No, just telling blonde jokes. Want to hear them?”

Mary Jane was not pleased and she had no qualms showing it.

“Why don't you come up here and show us what you know?”

“About?”

“Erogenous zones.”

“Show?” He laughed. “You mean tell?”

“I've already done the telling part. But you seem to be such an expert you haven't needed to pay attention.” She motioned for him to approach. “Maybe we can all benefit from your expertise.”

This was definitely yet another side to Mary Jane. A hard edge to her even changed her looks somewhat. She wasn't the perky cheerleader type everyone despised in high school, but more the firm authoritarian.

Dalton didn't say a word. Whether because he was still assessing the situation, or because she'd caught him off guard, Cassie didn't know.

“This is stupid,” Cassie said, drawing the woman's attention away from Dalton. “All this seems like is an excuse for an orgy.”

Simone chuckled. “Don't knock it until you've tried it, honey.”

Dalton smiled, and glancing over at Cassie, said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Coming here was your idea if you recall.”

“Yes, and I was wrong. We're leaving.”

“Wait.” Mary Jane rushed over before Cassie could even turn around. “I apologize if I was rude.”

“It doesn't matter. This just isn't our thing. Come on, Dalton.” She made as if she was leaving.

He caught her hand and pulled her back. “But, darlin', we didn't get to the naked part yet.”

“You're a pig.”

His mouth curved in a cocky smile. “One of the many things you like about me.”

“We're wasting our time.” Cassie shook her head
and tried to look sad, or at least resigned. “This marriage is over.”

“Wait. But this is only the second day,” Mary Jane said, all sugary sweet again. “I can't lose clients on the second day. Mr. Blankenship would fire me. You wouldn't want me to get fired, would you?”

“Cassie, we're already here.” Dalton tugged at her hand and she stumbled toward him. “I promise I'll be more serious about this.”

“I don't know,” she said slowly.

He slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

“Come on, honey, I don't want our marriage to be over. I'll do anything you want.”

“Well.” She instinctively stretched her neck to the side to give him better access. “Okay. We'll try one more day.”

“That's my baby,” he murmured against her skin.

And God help her, she could barely remember this was just a role. Dammit, she didn't know the exact moment when it happened, but she wanted him. More than she'd ever wanted a man. All the teasing and touching and kissing had finally gotten to her and the craving for his touch was like an itch she had to scratch.

She'd never been particularly bold or assertive when it came to sex, but this was the perfect opportunity. After all, Dalton
was
supposed to be her husband.

Hell, she was going for it.

 

D
ALTON CLOSED
their bedroom door behind him. He could still hear Mary Jane in the hall, cheering on the
other couples as she escorted them to their rooms. He shook his head. As if they all didn't know what to do behind closed doors.

He looked at Cassie. She'd gone straight for the carafe of water sitting on the mini-refrigerator and poured some into a glass.

She took a big gulp, and then asked, “You want one?”

“Sure.” He locked the door against Mary Jane's orders.

Cassie smirked. “She'll only bang on it.”

“She can bang away.” He crossed the room and accepted the glass of ice-cold water. “Thanks.”

“Now what?”

“We get naked.”

Cassie opened her mouth to make some snide remark, judging from the look on her face, but he put a finger to her lips and mouthed…
careful.

She jerked away. “Okay.” And then shocked the hell out of him by pulling off her T-shirt. Her pink lace bra was cut low and the mounds of tempting flesh facing him had him gritting his teeth.

“What are you doing?” His voice was so hoarse it was barely recognizable.

“Exactly what you suggested.” She wedged her hands in the elastic waistband of her shorts and shoved them down her legs, and then stooped to snatch them from around her ankles. In that position, her breasts nearly fell out of the small lacy cups.

She straightened and cast the shorts aside. Her pant
ies matched the bra. Pink lace. Very tiny. Her waist was much smaller than the jeans let on. She was stunning. And he was seconds away from cardiac arrest.

He took a deep steadying breath. “Okay, hold on.”

“Yes?”

“Don't give me that innocent look.”

She made a face and quietly shushed him. She crooked her finger for him to come closer.

No way. He took a step back.

She whispered, “I thought you had something to say.”

He tried keeping his eyes face level. Not in this lifetime. His gaze had a will of its own, running the length of her body, lingering on her perfect thighs. She worked out, that was certain, but not so much that she was too muscled.

And he noticed she really was a true blonde.

She moved toward him and he knew he should discourage any contact, but he wasn't sure he was capable. As it was, he didn't have to worry. She stopped half a foot away and looked expectantly at him.

He told himself not to look at her breasts. He didn't listen. His gaze dove down her tempting cleavage. Beneath the thin silk, her nipples pearled and strained against the fabric.

What would she do if he reached for the clasp, freed her breasts, took the tips in his mouth?

Shit, this wasn't good. This was trouble. “Would you explain why you—” He cleared his throat, remembered to keep his voice low. “Why you—” He waved a hand, gesturing to her seminudity.

She lifted her shoulder in a casual shrug calling attention to her breasts. “It's part of our exercise.”

“And you're willing to go along with Mary Jane's instructions?”

“To some degree. If she pays us a visit we'd better be prepared.”

“That's why I locked the door.”

She smiled. “Wouldn't it be simpler to get in bed and pretend we're…you know, getting cozy?”

The fit of his jeans was getting more uncomfortable by the second. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Her eyes widened. “What?”

“You were the one so concerned about how, shall we say,
realistic
our performances had to be.” Was he really trying to talk her out of this?

“Yes? And?”

“So what the hell are you doing?”

She frowned. “Keep it down.” She got closer and whispered, “I'm sure you've seen a woman in her underwear before.”

“No, this is my first time,” he joked, trying to take his mind off his erection.

“Go ahead, be sarcastic and flip. I'm used to your defensiveness.”

“My what?” He was about to tell her what a kook she was, but she raised a hand for silence and let out a loud, sensual groan.

She closed her eyes. “Ooh, baby, that feels so good.” And then she opened them and asked in a much quieter, less throatier voice, “What were you going to say?”

He stared at her, totally speechless.

She shrugged a shoulder and whispered, “Just in case anyone's listening.”

He continued to stare, for the life of him, unable to remember what he'd been about to say.

“You know, the carafe has been refilled,” she whispered apparently oblivious to his amazement. “So it isn't as if anyone tried to hide the fact they were in the room. Of course that would be pretty smart. Are we going to stand here for the next two hours, or can we…get comfortable?”

Obviously a rhetorical question because she immediately headed for the bed. His gaze riveted to the slight sway of her hips. No thong, but her panties were so skimpy it showed off plenty of curvy flesh. How the hell did she expect him to have a normal conversation with her?

Oh, yeah. He recalled now what he'd been saying. “What are you
doing?
”

She put a frantic finger to her lips and motioned him closer as she sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to turn on the radio, he figured to muffle their whispers.

He had no choice but to comply if they wanted to have a decent conversation over the oldies station she found. As if anything they discussed would make any sense. His jeans had grown uncomfortably tight and she'd have to be blind not to notice.

Just as he gingerly sat about a foot away from her, she let out another one of her loud, sexy, throaty
groans. “Oh, yes, honey, right there. Oh, baby, don't stop. Oh, yes, yes. Again.”

She blinked at him, looking as if she'd simply informed him of the time of day.

Dalton realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out slowly. “You do that too well. It's damned scary.”

She smiled. “Most women can.”

“Right.” A sobering thought. His gaze drifted downward, lingering on the way her nipples poked at the pink lace. Shit! This wasn't going to work. He got up, but she caught his hand and tugged him back down.

“Dalton…” She leaned forward and kissed his jaw. “Take off your shirt.”

Bad idea.
He pulled the polo over his head so fast he heard one of the buttons pop. “I already explained. I don't mix business with pleasure.”

“I know.” She kissed him briefly on the lips and put her hand on his chest.

“So what exactly are we doing?” he asked, beginning to care less and less.

“This is business.” She kissed him again, too briefly and then leaned back and said, “Just a minute.”

This time her moaning was even more sensual, more heart-stopping. She even threw in a head toss as she cried out, “I can't take it. Stop. No, don't. Oh, oh, baby, oh, you don't know what you're doing to me.” She delivered three throaty pants followed by a smile and a shrug.

She cocked her head to the side and whispered, “It wouldn't hurt if you made some noise, too.”

He squinted at her. “Why the sudden change in attitude?”

She pressed her palm against his chest and made little circles until his nipple responded. “I don't know. I figure there might as well be perks with the job. It's not like it would hurt anything. Make our roles more believable if nothing else.”