HandsOn (4 page)

“I know what you’re thinking.”

She glanced in the mirror and saw Nancy behind her. “No, you
don’t.”

“Yes, I do. You think you don’t want to go out with Mark.”

“Okay, maybe you do know what I’m thinking. But look at me,
Nance. This isn’t me. This is someone else.”

Nancy stepped behind her and grasped her shoulders, hugging
her. “No, sweetie, this
is
you. You just hide behind miles of hair and
loose clothes because you’re afraid if you step outside your shell, no one will
love you.”

“Ridiculous. You psychoanalyzing me?”

“I’ve known you since we were kids. You were the smartest
girl I knew, with big green eyes and a full smile that the boys would drool
over. But you never noticed. And eventually, they stopped drooling over you,
because they knew they weren’t going to get your attention.”

She patted Nancy’s hand. “You’re delusional.”

“And you’re in denial. Now get that gorgeous body into one
of those sexy dresses so you can strut your stuff and get laid.”

“Nancy!” She pushed away and turned to her best friend. “I
am
not
getting laid.”

Nancy crossed her arms and smirked. “I’ll bet you a million
bucks he has his hand up your dress before the end of the night. And if you
don’t call me tomorrow and tell me he gave you an ear-splitting orgasm, I’ll
resign as the resident meddler in your life.”

“You’re on.”

Hand up her dress. Ear-splitting orgasm. Nancy was full of
it.

After Nancy left, Lara slipped on the short blue dress that
sparkled in the light like the aurora borealis, then teetered into the living
room on strappy blue sandals with heels that looked like they were made of thin
straws.

She’d fall on her ass trying to dance in these things. But,
she had to admit they made her legs look long and shapely.

By the time eight o’clock rolled around, she was
hyperventilating and wanted to throw up. But she was bound and determined to go
on this date, if for no other reason than to prove Nancy wrong.

No one was getting their hands up her dress tonight. And the
only one giving her an orgasm later would be Bob.

A soft rap on the door had her heart catapulting into her
throat. Sucking in oxygen, she opened it slowly.

Adonis. Well, it was Mark, but it could have easily been
Adonis.

Black pants, gray shirt that molded to his impressive chest
in a way that made her want to drool. Raven hair that her fingers itched to run
wild through. And a killer smile that curled the ends of his moustache upward.

She’d never survive the night.

* * * * *

Mark stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open.

Where had the frazzled little redhead gone? Who was this
gorgeous siren decked out in a sinfully short wisp of a dress, with her hair
cut and styled and showcasing a face that stopped his heart?

And her mouth. Holy shit, that mouth. Visions of those full
lips wrapped around his cock had the snake coiling and twisting to life in his
pants.

Not good. Not good at all. The objective here was to fool
her, not fuck her. He was supposed to garner her interest, not get into her panties.

But damned if that wasn’t what he wanted to do right now.
Forget the date, forget the subterfuge. Just throw her over the nearest piece
of furniture, pull that hot dress over her hips and slide into what would
surely be a nice, tight, wet pussy.

Ah, hell.

“You look gorgeous,” he finally managed.

The blush she wore on her cheeks only made her look more
desirable. “Thank you.”

“You ready to go? I’m anxious to get my arms around you.”

At her shocked expression, he corrected, “On the dance
floor, of course.”

“Oh. Of course.”

She closed the door and brushed past him, giving him a whiff
of a soft and seductive scent. Vanilla with something a little wild mixed in.

Just like the woman. Sweet and innocent, but he’d bet his
career that her innocence hid a lurking wildcat just waiting for someone to let
her out of her cage.

Mark wanted to be the one to set her free.

He was in deep trouble.

Chapter Four

Lara tugged at the hem of her dress for the umpteenth time,
conscious of how the silky material rode up her thighs.

She was also fully aware of the way Mark’s eyes darted to
the skin exposed by the traveling material.

They’d been in the car for over a half hour and during that
time he’d cast several glances in the direction of her legs. And cleared his
throat a lot. Other than that he was mostly silent. Probably wondering how
quickly he could get her back home.

Although he had seemed genuinely pleased with her
appearance.

God, she was so inept at reading a man’s sexual signals. And
she called herself an expert? Yeah, right. Only if the subject in question
wasn’t focused on her.

She inhaled a shaky breath. Damn, he smelled good. Like the
mountains. Crisp, clean with a seductive spice that made her want to search his
skin for the location of that scent. Everywhere.

Which immediately brought about a vision of her nuzzling his
balls. Damn.

She cleared her throat.

“Doin’ okay over there?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“You’re fidgety.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

Was it that obvious? “Not really. I prefer working on my
books and research.”

“Real sex is more fun than reading about it.”

Her gaze flew to his and he winked. “Well, it is.”

Not the sex that she’d had. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I could…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. She couldn’t resist asking,
“You could what?”

Instead of answering, he turned into a parking lot filled
with cars. “We’re here.”

Mark came around and opened her door, then led her to a
one-story brick building. She heard the music from the parking lot. People
milled outside. A neon sign blinked from the window, proclaiming the place as All
That Jazz.

Smoke poured out of the dimly lit nightclub. Strains of a
saxophone wailing from the stage filled her senses with a slow, seductive
melody that sang through her nerve endings.

Mark led them to a table in the corner of the room. The
place was packed tight, bodies undulating on the huge dance floor. The waitress
brought them drinks and Lara sipped hers while watching the interaction of the
couples milling about.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“I think this place is ripe for research.”

He arched a brow and took a long swallow of his drink. “What
kind of research?”

“Sexual.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Sexual behaviors of the young and single
couples. I wish I’d brought my notepad. I could jot down some ideas or maybe
even wander around and ask some questions.”

His lips curled. “Oh yeah. I know they would love that.”

Good point. “Okay, maybe just observing will give me some
thought processes to go on.”

“Tell me what you see.”

“Look at that couple in front of us.”

Mark’s gaze followed hers. “The woman in the red dress with
the really tall guy?”

“Yes. See how he looks
over
her, not
at
her?”

“Yeah. So?”

“He’s not really interested in that particular woman.”

“How can you tell?”

She smiled, feeling more comfortable now that she they were
talking about her area of expertise. “His body language. He holds her loosely,
his hands barely grazing her hips. And no body contact. They’re at least six
inches apart. The fact he isn’t looking directly at her clearly indicates he’s
already scoping out another woman.”

“Really. You can tell all that just by looking at them?”

She turned to him and nodded. “Yes.”

With a shrug, he said, “You’re probably right. Places like
this are known to be meat markets. And some guys like to have a lot of women to
choose from.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” Stupid question.

“Nah. I said some guys, not all guys. Besides, I’ve got the
best-looking woman in the place.”

Lara snorted and turned to the couples on the dance floor,
scanning for more interesting subjects. She’d have to keep her wits about her
tonight so she could remember everything she saw. When she returned home, she
could type up her observations.

“Tell me more. What else do you see?” he asked.

“The area over by the bar. That’s where the male will size
up available females before making his choice.”

“Why?”

“Typical male response. Males are hunters. Their primary
mission is continuation of their species. They always look for the most
attractive woman in the crowd. If he captures her, if they have chemistry, he
knows he can bond with her.”

Now it was Mark’s turn to laugh. “I can guarantee you that
ninety-nine percent of the guys in here aren’t looking for a wife.”

She shook her head. “No, not a wife. A mate. Someone to have
sex with. Good sex, at least to a man, equals a good mate and therefore
continuation of his line. Doesn’t mean he wants to spend all eternity with her.
In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. The male of the species deals in quantity,
not quality. The more women he can spread his seed among, the more likely his
lineage will continue.”

“In other words, fuck ‘em and go on to the next one.”

“Exactly.”

She could have laughed at his affronted look.

“Whoa. That’s kind of harsh.”

Lara smirked, knowing all about a man’s ego and how easily
it could be bruised. “But it’s true. If you think about it logically, you’ll
know it to be true.”

“So in other words, my taking you out tonight is because I
want to have sex with you.”

She choked and grabbed for her drink. “Um, no. That’s not
what I meant at all.” She didn’t mean the two of them. She and Mark were…well,
whatever they were, it wasn’t like that at all.

“Then you’ve just blown your theory right out of the water,
professor.”

At a loss for words, she watched the dancers, hoping Mark
wouldn’t ask her any more questions.

“You prefer that, don’t you?” he asked, pulling her
attention back to him. He leaned back and slung his arm over the top of the
chair. The movement stretched his shirt tight over his chest. She hoped she
wasn’t drooling.

“Prefer what?”

“Watching, rather than participating.”

“I’m an analyst. I love to survey the sexual interactions
between people. It’s what I do.”

“Don’t you miss joining in?”

She never had before. Content with her life for many years,
Lara had convinced herself she didn’t need a man to make her complete. She
still felt that way, although if she were going to participate rather than
watch, the man sitting across the table from her would be her first choice.

“Not really. I’m satisfied with my life.”

“Satisfied, but not happy?”

Mark must have taken psychoanalysis lessons from Nancy. “I
didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t. Let’s dance.” He stood and held out his
hand.

“I’d rather watch.”

“Not this time, professor. This time you participate.
C’mon.”

She took a quick gulp of her cocktail and stood, hoping she
wouldn’t pierce his foot with her stiletto heels. Or even worse, fall on her
ass.

Mark maneuvered them in between the throng of bodies on the
dance floor. The music was slow, sensuous, a wailing strain of heartache
pouring from the saxophone. He stopped and turned, then gathered her into his
arms and pulled her close. His hand rested low on her back. Damn Nancy and her
choice of low-cut dresses.

And he could dance. Lord, could he dance. His body fit tight
against hers, his fingers splayed on the skin of her back, softly moving up and
down against her spine. Her legs wobbled.

“Would you relax? I’m not going to bite you. Unless you ask
me to.”

His teasing wink was not comforting. His gaze focused on
hers and for the life of her she couldn’t pull herself away.

Chemistry. Biology. This was the stuff she wrote about, but
had never really felt with a man. This self-combusting ache that settled
somewhere between her legs, making her breasts tingle, her body fire up in preparation
for…

For what? For sex? With Mark? He’d laugh if she told him
what she’d been thinking.

They were wedged tight within the throng of heated bodies
surrounding them, all swaying to the music. Some men’s hands rested on their
women’s buttocks. Considering they were in public, it was a free-for-all of
sexuality that astounded her.

“No one cares,” Mark said.

She refocused on his face. “Cares about what?”

“About who is touching who and where they’re touching.
Everyone’s into the music, the moment, concentrating only on the body they’re
holding onto. Do you see anyone else studying the people around them?”

She scanned the room, realizing that the couples on the
dance floor focused only on each other. Okay, maybe she’d been wrong. “No.”

“Then look at me, Lara. Feel me, touch me anywhere you want.
Let your senses come alive and get into the moment. Get into the reality.”

The offer was tempting, but scared her to death. “I’m doing
fine.”

His lips curled in a delicious smile that made her shudder
with a need she hadn’t realized existed. “But I’m not.”

Blazing a scorching trail of fire, his hands moved up her
back to tickle the nape of her neck, then slowly, ever so slowly, traveled
downward past the middle of her spine. Then lower, and even lower.

When he rested his fingers against the top of her butt, she
gasped, but he held her firm. His fingers burned through her skimpy dress and
flimsy panties, scorching her skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

She almost blurted the
yes
that automatically hung on
her lips. But his hands felt too good. “No.”

“Then touch me. Anywhere you want.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she moved her hands
over his shoulders, delighting in the feel of his muscles tensing against her
fingers. Exploring further, she moved her palms over his chest. His heart beat
fast and strong against her hand.

So did his erection. Nestled between her legs, he rocked his
hips against her and sparks shot off deep inside her sex. He was hard. She
turned him on. Holy hell, that was exciting!

“Feel what you do to me?”

“Yes.”

“What are your thoughts?”

She didn’t want to tell him what her thoughts were. But she
couldn’t help herself. “It excites me.”

His whiskey eyes darkened, the sensual promise within their
depths melting her from the inside out. “Good.”

He pulled her close to his chest and her nipples beaded to
hard points. They ached for his touch, his mouth, anything to douse the fire
he’d started. He arched a brow and grinned, then moved against her, mirroring
the dancing couples around them.

Each time he ground against her mound, she wanted to drop in
a heap of arousal onto the floor. Her clit was in a knot, her pussy pulsing.
Juices ran from her slit onto her panties, readying her for a sensual assault
she truly wanted but knew she wasn’t going to get.

Really, how could people take this sexual teasing? The
academic part of her mind wanted to take notes, to jot down every thought,
every sensation running through her body. The woman part of her wanted to rip
Mark’s clothes off and have her way with him right here, right now.

She was pathetic. One dance, one hot body rubbing against
hers and she was toast.

“Let’s go,” he said, moving away from her and leaving her
chilled and wanting.

She thought he was tired of dancing, but instead of
returning to their seats he led her out the door and back to his car.

That was it? One drink, one body-melting dance and they were
done? Her body was aroused to the point of pain, her panties were wet and her
nipples were desperately trying to bore a hole through her dress.

And now she was going home?

What a disappointment! She slid into the seat of his SUV,
remembering now why she didn’t date. The reality was never as good as the
fantasy.

He drove her home in virtual silence, the tension between
them palpable. Lara glanced over at him, hoping he’d smile or make some kind of
eye contact.

Nothing. His jaw was clenched tight and he gripped the
steering wheel like he was trying to maneuver through an obstacle course. By
the time they reached her house, she was prepared for him to slow down, toss
her out and speed away.

Instead, he parked, walked up the sidewalk with her and
waited while she fished for her keys. When she got the front door open he fit
his hand on the small of her back and gently propelled her inside, following
her.

He shut the door. Locked it.

She turned around, planning to ask him what he was doing,
when he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against him. He didn’t say
a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. His pupils were dilated, his breathing
heavy and erratic.

He brushed her hair away from her face and lowered his mouth
to hers.

She expected a gentle touch of his lips, like the last time.

That wasn’t what she got.

His lips crashed down against hers and he tightened his hold
on her, slipping his tongue inside and licking the inner recesses of her mouth.
He drank from her lips like a man in the throes of desperation. She welcomed
the onslaught because she was insanely hungry for his touch.

Lara melted in his arms, grabbing his shoulders and then
winding her arms around his neck to tangle her fingers in his hair. He groaned
against her lips and kissed her deeper, harder, ravaging her mouth in a way
that left her unable to take a breath.

Not that she cared. This was passion. Pure, unadulterated
mating of two bodies with explosive chemistry. She’d never had it before, had
no idea it could be like this.

Now that she’d discovered it, she wanted more. So much more.