Just for Fun (5 page)

“God, Morgan.”

“More,” she whispered hoarsely.

He leaned in and took her right nipple in his mouth, licking, then sucking, pulling a long moan from her.

“I want to make you come,” he said against her breast.

“You’re about halfway there,” she panted.

“I love that,” he rasped. His hand went to the button on the front of her jeans just as the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, jarring them hard.

She let her head fall back, pushing her hair away from her face. “Dammit.”

“Give me two minutes,” he said.

She grinned. “It would only take you one. But this is not the place for it.”

He looked around. “I disagree.”

“We have three days in a penthouse suite at a five-star hotel. I promise you there will be lots of this.”

He licked his lips and looked at her breasts again. “We’re going straight to the hotel right?”

“Definitely.” She pulled her bra up, her shirt down and pushed herself off of his lap. She let out a breath, staring at his mouth. “
Definitely.
”

Morgan stared at the man in front of her. Her whole body tingled. Looking at his mouth she could still feel his lips pulling on her nipple.

She wanted more. Intensely. Like she’d never wanted anything ever.

It didn’t seem to matter that he’d gotten her arrested and left her in a jail cell. It also didn’t seem to bother her that he would clearly be more comfortable in a beanbag chair playing video games and eating Cheetos than in a tux at a dinner party with her boss.

She could not let him overwhelm her. He was here with her because she’d let another man overwhelm her. She couldn’t let the same thing happen with Doug. He wouldn’t steal her work ideas, but she could easily see him talking her into skinny-dipping in a private pool. Or participating in a wet T-shirt contest. Or wearing a skimpy cheerleader’s outfit and getting dirty in the backseat of his car.

She shook her head. Anyway, there was an aura of naughty fun and its-only-bad-if-you-get-caught about him that she liked and was wary of at the same time.

This was a business trip and she’d brought him along for protection. She couldn’t let
him
be the one who got her into trouble.

“This is just for fun,” she told him firmly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “No matter how intense this feels, it’s just a good time.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, we barely know each other.”

“Agreed.”

“I don’t think we have much in common.”

“We don’t. I’m sure of it,” he assured her.

That mattered. It did. There was no way this could go beyond this weekend. She didn’t play video games or eat Cheetos. “Okay. So…” She took her seat. “Just for fun.”

He cleared his throat. “Tell me more about this job and project,” he said.

She looked at him, surprised, as she fastened her seat belt. “You want to hear about it?”

“I
want
to strip you down and make you scream.”

She sucked in a quick breath as heat and craving filled her. “I don’t know much about the project,” she started conversationally.

Dooley grinned and seemed to relax in his seat.

She tried to as well. “We submitted basic ideas about a month ago and he chose Todd and me as the final two from those proposals. We were supposed to include a target demographic, amenities, décor, things like that.”

“What’s your idea?” he asked.

“Um, well, okay.” She hadn’t let anyone see her ideas besides her sister and she hadn’t explained any of it out loud. This might be a good chance to practice before she saw Mr. Britton. “My idea is about truly customizing the experience for the guests. They will go online and fill out a questionnaire about what they like, what they don’t. Then we’ll use it to make their stay personal and comfortable.”

He was listening, seemingly interested. Which surprised her. A little. But she was already beginning to think there was more to Doug Miller than his dirty tennis shoes and unruly hair.

But she didn’t want there to be more to him. He was a weekend date, a fling. She needed to concentrate on the Cheetos thing.

“For instance,” she went on. “If someone likes lemon cake and not chocolate, then lemon cake will be offered with their first meal. Their favorite scent will be infused in their room, their bedding will be their favorite color, their favorite flowers will be on the table when they first enter their condo, their favorite movies will be offered on pay per view.”

He was staring at her.

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “What?”

“You’re going to need a ton of staff. And inventory.”

She stared back. He was right. But most people wouldn’t think of that. Her sister had said
Damn, I want to go
.

“Yes,” she said. “But it will be worth it.”

“What if the husband likes blue and the wife likes purple?”

She smiled. “I’ll find a comforter with both blue and purple in it.”

“So you’ll also need a full-time shopper. Or fifteen.”

“Dream job for someone, don’t you think?” She crossed her legs and sat back. Britton already liked the idea.

“Think of the food inventory if everyone wants something different all the time.”

“Think of the guests who will sign up to stay.”

Finally he gave her a slow grin. “I want red sheets, don’t care about the flowers, but I need beef jerky, Pringles and blue Gatorade. And I’d love for the whole place to smell like chocolate chip cookies.”

She couldn’t help but smile back even as she shook her head. “You want race cars or fire trucks on those red sheets?”

His eyes widened. “Race cars are an option?”

“A twelve-year-old boy would ask for the same things.”

“Twelve-year-old boys know how to have fun.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to just essentially be twelve years old forever?” He exuded that little-boy-in-a-man’s-body vibe.

He leaned in. “Being twelve was awesome. The biggest thing I had to worry about was whether my allowance was going to cover the candy bars and video games I wanted to buy. I’d be twelve forever if I could. Except, of course, for the sex thing.”

She tried not to let it show how her breath hitched. Lord, the man only had to say “sex” and she reacted. “Twelve-year-old boys like breasts too.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know what to do with them.”

But he did.

The rest of the statement hung unspoken but obvious between them.

Trying to distract them both she said, “You’re telling me this because you want a free night’s stay for coming along and helping me?”

“Definitely not,” he said, sitting back.

“No?” She totally intended to give him some free time at the resort. But he didn’t have to know that.

“I want two weeks. And I think I’ll change my favorite color to black and white stripes for week two.”

“Two weeks?” she asked. “That seems like a lot.”

“How about I promise I’ll earn it?”

His voice didn’t change, his expression didn’t change, but that sounded decidedly sexy.

She finally nodded. “You’ll have to.”

He reached out and grabbed a magazine from the rack on the wall. “I’m not worried.”

Um, yeah, he had nothing to worry about if the elevator and airplane seat were anything to go by. It gave her hot flashes to think what the guy might do with an actual bed.

They’d have an actual bed in less than an hour.

She fanned herself and looked out the window. Neither helped.

He flipped through several pages of
Money
magazine.

“I don’t normally have one-night stands,” she heard herself say.

“I know.” He didn’t even look at her. He grabbed another magazine and flipped through a few pages of that one too.

“You do?” She thought about that. Had she seemed inexperienced? She didn’t have one-night stands, but it certainly wasn’t her first time with a penis. “How?”

“The same way I knew you weren’t a stripper.”

He exchanged the magazine for yet another.

“I never said I was a stripper.”

“But you didn’t correct me.” He’d made some comment about how he was sorry he’d missed her show and she’d decided to go with it.

“But you knew I wasn’t anyway?”

“Definitely.” He sighed as he stuffed the magazine back into the rack with the others.

“How?” She turned in her seat. She couldn’t pull off stripper?

He looked at her. “Why do you care?”

“Curiosity.” Her body wasn’t good enough to show off?

“Okay.” He shifted closer. “You’ve absolutely got a body for it.”

Well, that helped.

“But you don’t have the same confidence,” he went on.

She cocked an eyebrow. She was nothing if not confident.

“Strippers know what they’ve got and how to use it. They want people to look at them.” He looked her over from head to toe, the ripples of awareness seemed to awaken every one of her skin cells. “You’re sure of yourself but you don’t need people to look at you or acknowledge it to know it.”

That was…nice. And true. Which startled her. He knew things like that about her already? Again she was hit with the idea Doug wasn’t what he seemed. Which wasn’t good.

Apparently satisfied he’d answered her questions, he reached under his seat and pulled out his bag. From the front pocket he retrieved a book.

She couldn’t help it—she reached over and tipped the book to see the cover.

The first thing she saw was the hot, half-naked man on the front. The second thing was the name of the author. “Doug?”

“Yeah?” He opened to a page about a third of the way through.

“That’s a Lori Foster book.”

“Right.”

“Do you know it’s a romance?”

“The other four I’ve read were, so I assumed it was.”

She put her hand over the page in front of him forcing him to look at her. “You read romance?”

“Have
you
ever read a Lori Foster book?”

“Well…no.”

“So you’re not aware of the hot women and hot sex scenes? I mean, she uses the word clit. Why
wouldn’t
I read it?”

If the word “sex” made it hard to breathe, the word “clit” from him made her very aware of that part of
her
body. “Oh?” she managed. “How did you know she uses that word before you read the first one?”

“Sara told me.”

Morgan looked away from skimming the first paragraph on the page he was reading. She saw nipples and tongue. There was a woman he was talking about clits with? “Who’s Sara?”

“Sam and Jessica’s little sister—Mac’s wife.”

“Who are Sam and Jessica and Mac?”

“Some of my best friends in the world.”

She watched his face. There was something…affectionate…in his tone. She liked that. “So Sara’s just a friend?”

He nodded. “Almost like a little sister.”

“How, then, did the subject of clits come up?”

His expression turned serious—and hot. He leaned in close. “Say clits again.”

She couldn’t take a deep breath suddenly. “Clits.”

He slowly nodded. “I like a woman who can say words like that without blinking or blushing.”

“You do?” She liked turning him on. She leaned closer to him too. “I can say other words too. Nipple. Cock. Fuck.”

It worked. His pupils dilated and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Yeah, I remember you can say fuck.”

Then she did blush. She remembered asking him to fuck her in the elevator.

Wow. She
never
did stuff like that. She’d been naïve and easy with Todd, but she’d been downright naughty and dirty with Doug.

She thought she might prefer naughty and dirty.

“Tell me why you and Sara talk like this with each other,” she said.

He shook his head quickly. “No, we don’t talk like that. God, Mac would kick my ass, for one thing. Nah, she just mentioned men might get some insight from reading sex scenes women write for other women to read. Romance is the most popular book genre. Somebody’s doing something right.”

Considering she’d seen two words and was a fan of Lori’s already, she had to admit he might be on to something. “What else do you have in your bag?”

He laughed. “No more books.” He looked at her, amused. “Here, borrow it.” He handed her the book while he reached into his bag again.

She wasn’t going to argue. While she was tempted to start reading right where he’d left off, she decided to start at the beginning. She flipped to the front, but couldn’t help looking to see what he pulled out next.

“A comic book? Seriously?” Just when he’d seemed more like an adult.

He grinned. “
The Guild
.”

“
The Guild
? Not even Spider-Man or something?”

“Love Spider-Man.”

“What’s
The Guild
?”

He showed her the front of the comic book. “It’s a web show. About online gamers.”

“Ah.” She opened the book. “I think it’s safe to say I know a lot more about what’s in this book.”

“There will be a test later.”

She glanced at him but he seemed already absorbed in
The Guild
. She tried to ignore him. The book made it a little easier. But it was his book. What else was in his bag? More surprises, she was sure.

A thought occurred to her. “Um, Doug?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that the only bag you brought?” The duffle fit comfortably under his seat.

“Yeah.” He flipped a page.

“I assume there’s not much call for tuxedos and suits as a paramedic.” Which she hadn’t thought of until now. She wondered if he owned a tie. Or a shirt with buttons.

“It’s hard to get blood out of Armani,” he said.

“So you didn’t bring anything more than jeans and T-shirts?” She hadn’t dated a guy who wore a T-shirt that said,
I don’t get drunk, I get awesome
before.

“Nope. But I promise you I look just as good in a suit as I do a tux.” He flipped another page.

She wasn’t worried about
that
. In fact, she shouldn’t worry about any of it. She just cared what he looked like
out
of his suit, tux, jeans, etc. It had occurred to her to take him to dinner with her, but then thought better of it. She didn’t know him. He was able to flirt but she wasn’t sure he could make polite conversation. Regaling Jonathan Britton with tales of the things he’d seen and done as a paramedic might not be appropriate.