Kinky Claus (4 page)

Trig choked on a cough. He cleared his throat and shot her a rueful grin. “Sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. You all can’t be batting for the same team, right?”

“I was apologizing for my reaction, not him being gay. Because obviously that worked out in my favor, seeing how
I’m
sitting here with you now instead of him.” He nudged her foot with his. “I’m not used to words like
dick
coming from you.”

“Your sister is a bad influence.”

“Shit, that’s an understatement. She makes
me
look like a saint most days.” He rubbed his jaw and inspected her with a considering glint in his eyes. “Still, I gotta admit that I like that word rolling around on your tongue.”

“You like dick rolling on my tongue?” she repeated with a squint. Realizing how horrendously wrong that’d just sounded, she groaned.

Trig’s gaze positively sparkled. “Well, naturally I’d prefer it being
my
dick on your tongue.”

Oh jeez Louise. She’d stepped right into that one. She craned a desperate look toward the stockroom. “Where the fuck is that salesclerk?”

Trig’s whiskey-smooth laugh prodded goose bumps along her flesh. “I’m getting to hear all the fun words from you tonight.”

She winced. “I usually don’t swear this much. I swear.” Oh Lord. Someone stop her before she convinced him that she was a complete foul-mouthed dunderhead.

“That’s a lot of swearing about swearing.” Grinning, he squeezed her shoulder. Almost immediately the motion of his hand slowed to an intimate caress. Despite the warning bells clanging in her head she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his touch or the hot intensity in his eyes. His fingertips snuck beneath the neckline of her sweater and tickled over her collarbone. She instinctively shivered. He inched closer, his rapt gaze fused to her mouth. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

She didn’t have to be a mind reader to have a good inkling of the raunchy ideas undoubtedly swirling through his noggin. Ten to one they were Xerox copies of the X-rated scenarios currently sequestered in
her
brain.

He stroked his hand up along her neck. “If we were someplace private you could share a few more of your favorite fun words with me.”

“Snuffleupagus is a good one. Always makes me laugh.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of
fuck that pussy like you own it. Deeper. OhGodohGodohGod. Right there. Right. Fucking. There
.” He punctuated each word with a tantalizing sweep of his thumb over the sensitive spot behind her ear.

She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “I believe that falls into the territory of a paragraph. Totally different thing that.”

“Huh. Grammar’s never been my strong suit.” He lowered his head until a mere breath of air separated their lips. “I make up for it in other areas.”

“Let me guess. Anatomy?” She
really
shouldn’t be encouraging this conversation.

“Mm hm. I think we should skip this joint so I can properly impress you with my vast knowledge.”

“Will there by an oral exam afterwards?”
Stop flirting with him, you crazy idiot.

“Better believe it. Also before and during. And you can damn well count on getting multiple O’s.”

“Is that a new grading system?”

“Yeah. Mine.” His pupils practically overtaking his irises, he closed the space between them by biting her bottom lip with a growl.

She had one startled second to moan in pleasure at the all too brief flicker of his tongue along the tip of hers before an awkward cough yanked her back to her senses. Hastily jerking away from Trig, she gaped at the salesclerk as he extended an opened shoe box. She stared at the high heels dumbly. “Err, I almost forgot about these.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Humor twitching his lips, the salesclerk handed over a nylon footie. “Not sure if you need this.”

Cheeks hotter than a five-alarm blaze, she hiked up her pants legs and unzipped her boots. A quick swap out of the shoes verified that the high heels were a perfect fit and comfortable enough that her feet hopefully wouldn’t kill her ten minutes into the party. She returned the heels to the box and tugged her coat on before Trig could offer assistance with the task. Not that she didn’t trust him, but...yeah, she didn’t trust him. Not one bit. Knowing the crafty bastard, he’d take it as a prime opportunity to cop a feel. Trig snagged the bag containing her dress before she could reach it and then he gallantly offered his other arm. It was beyond her how someone could be such a gentleman and a dirty-tongued devil all rolled into one hot package of sin. Bemused, she allowed him to escort her to the register.

After once again making Macy’s stockholders happy courtesy of her credit card, she took a deep, fortifying breath and faced Trig. “I think you should take me home now.” Smoky triumph lit his gaze, and she shot her hand up. “Not for that. So don’t get any ideas, Buster.”

Trig made a grumbling noise. “Are you always this stubborn? Or only when it comes to me?”

Wisely remaining closed-lipped on that one, she trekked toward the exit.

CHAPTER FOUR

Trig shot a frustrated glance skyward as they made their way across the dimly-lit parking lot to his SUV. No doubt karma was laughing its ass off at him. He’d never once had a problem coaxing a woman between the sheets, and he’d sure as hell taken that privilege for granted. Now he was getting the red light from the one woman who made him sweat like no other.

He knew Marissa was attracted to him. He also suspected that she was equally as hungry to get horizontal with him. She’d practically melted in his arms during their woefully short kiss. And that whimpery sound she’d made? God
damn
. His cock thickened behind his fly at the memory.

One way or another, he’d convince her to lower her guard and explore the possibilities between them.

And what possibilities would those be, you fucking moron? You know this can only be about sex.

He winced at the harsh albeit honest reminder. Relationships seldom worked out in his line of business. It was one of the main reasons he deliberately chose to remain single. Girlfriends got jealous, plain and simple. Hell, a few of his past clients had gotten a little too attached and he’d been forced to split ties with them because they hadn’t liked him escorting other women to various events. They hadn’t understood that this was his job, even though they’d damn well paid him to do the same thing for them.

So what favor would he be doing Rissa by getting involved with her? Best case scenario, they’d enjoy each other’s company at her party and possibly a time or two in his bed or hers. Would the sex be out of this world? Fuck yes. But would he be doing right by her? The last thing he wanted to do was lead her on in any way. And he certainly didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship.

Tension pulling tight between his shoulder blades, he dug in his jacket pocket for his keys and clicked the lock release button. He grabbed the passenger door handle before Marissa could beat him to it. She peeked up at him with that sweet smile he was growing increasingly addicted to, and it took everything inside him not to push her up against the side of his Honda and kiss the living daylights out of her. Instead he settled for tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear and flicking the tip of her nose with his finger.

Her expression bemused, she stared at him for a second before she ducked inside his car and fastened her seat belt. She’d probably expected him to make another move on her. And why wouldn’t she assume that? He’d been playing hot and heavy with her all night. Gusting a resigned exhalation, he shut her door and strode to the driver’s side.

He cranked on the engine and reversed out of the parking spot. After getting her address he cruised in the direction of the freeway on ramp. They spent a few minutes engaged in meaningless chitchat before Marissa cleared her throat. “Is everything okay between us?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?” He tore his attention from the road to look at her.

“I don’t know.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I thought maybe you might be mad at me.”

He could have gone the easy route and played dumb, but he respected her too much to resort to those games. Besides, he had a strong feeling she’d see through any BS on his part. “I’m not mad at you. But my sense of decency has finally kicked in.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a nice woman, and a friend. It wouldn’t be fair to give you false impressions.”

She dropped her gaze to her lap and remained quiet for a long moment. “You’re really not interested in me. It’s okay, I understand.”

Fuck. That definitely wasn’t the conclusion he’d intended her to have. For one thing, it couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Rissa, I’d give my left nut to spend all night in bed with you—and any other surface we could try out. But sex is the only thing I can offer you.”

“You think I’d want more than that?”

“Most women eventually do. It’s just the way you’re wired.”

Amusement tipped her mouth. “Hate to burst your bubble, but I might be more of an expert on my gender than you. And believe me, it’s completely possible for us to have sex with a guy and not be planning a wedding two seconds into the act.”

“Sure, there are some women who can have sex purely for sex’s sake. But they’re in the minority.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you assume I’m not one of them?”

He wished like hell she was, because that’d make things a whole lot easier. Not to mention save him a lifetime of blue balls where she was concerned. “Let me ask you something. How did you react when you found out your McHottie was gay?”

She gave a listless shrug. “It was no big deal.”

“Rissa...”

Expelling a weary sigh, she tweaked the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. “Okay, I might have been a tad upset at first. It was stupid on my part though.”

“No, you’d visualized a possible future with him, right? And it hurt when you found out that would never come true. That’s a completely understandable reaction.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and steeled himself to do the honorable thing. “But as much as I’m sure it stung, its nothing compared to how you would have felt if you’d gotten emotionally invested in him.”

“You mean by having sex? Yeah, I suppose so,” she admitted reluctantly. She dropped her hands to her lap. “You’re worried that’s what would happen with us.”

“Yes.” He returned his focus to the road. “You have your own reservations about us getting intimate. Well, this is mine.”

“So we’re both now in full agreement that it’d be a huge mistake?” There was a noticeable hint of sad finality in her voice.

Five minutes ago, he would have taken that as a prime opportunity to push his advantage and seduce her into giving him a chance. Just knowing that made him feel like a shady bastard. He’d never once experienced an ounce of guilt over his player tendencies. But with Rissa he wanted to be a better man than he was. He wanted to protect her from men like him. “Looks like.”

“Well...good.”

“Yup.”

An awkward silence descended on them again. It hung around all the way up to the moment he pulled into her subdivision. She cleared her throat and pointed toward the windshield. “My house is the one with the red and white Christmas lights up there on the left.”

He slowed and pulled into the indicated driveway. Curiosity getting the best of him, he eyed the two-story bungalow in front of him. An enormous Christmas tree took up almost the entire bay window. He grinned as he imagined her grunting and cursing while wrestling that behemoth through the door. Then again, she’d most likely had a few helping hands and strong backs to carry out the task. That realization prodded other sobering epiphanies to life. One of these days the strong back would belong to her boyfriend. Then her husband. It was all too easy to believe it, because Marissa was most definitely the marrying type. Hell, all she was missing was the white picket fence and the minivan she’d one day fill with a whole troop of rugrats.

Marissa freed her seat belt and reached for her bags. She gifted him with a too-bright smile. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Of course.” He stared at her mouth, the urge to kiss her overwhelming. Would one little taste of her really hurt?
Yes, you selfish prick. It would.
He knew damn well he wouldn’t be satisfied at stopping there. He’d want to sneak his hand under her sweater so he could feel the full weight of those gorgeous breasts in his palms. If she let him get that far he’d slip his other hand inside her panties. After that he’d be a goner. Because once he touched her pussy he’d want to go down on her. And once he knew how sweet her pussy tasted, he’d want to fill her with his cock.

She licked her lips. “I’ll, uh, just be going in now.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a smart idea.” He coughed to disperse the gravel from his throat. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

She cracked her door open, her expression hesitant. “If you don’t—”

“Seven PM, Rissa. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Giving a brisk nod, she jumped from the vehicle and nudged the door shut with her hip. He waited until she was safely inside her house and then backed out of her drive. He made it as far as the subdivision’s entrance before he dug his cell phone from his jacket pocket. A quick scroll through his contacts and he located his booty call list. He stared at the top name, an emptiness settling in the pit of his belly. Any one of the women would be willing to have some no-strings-attached fun with him tonight. Only problem was he didn’t want any of them. No, he’d left behind the woman he truly wanted and he’d just made a pact with himself to keep her off limits.

Karma was a fucking bitch.

Tossing his cell onto the passenger seat, he headed home.

***

The obnoxious trill of his phone broke him from a sound snooze sometime around the butt crack of dawn. Groaning and cursing a blue streak, he tossed the bed sheet aside and snatched his cell from the nightstand. “Hello?” he demanded in the crankiest voice he could muster.

“Mornin’ Sunshine.”

He winced at Jane’s disgustingly perky greeting. “What are you doing up so early?”

“
Some
of us have jobs that start before Happy Hour, brother dear.”

Grumbling under his breath rather than take the bait, he rolled onto his back and glared at the ceiling. “Is there a reason you called—other than to antagonize me?”

“Just wanted to see what you’re doing this weekend. Since everyone else has abandoned me, I thought maybe we could do something on Saturday.”

“As long as it’s in the afternoon.”

“Got a hot date? Who’s the flavor this week?”

He cleared his throat. “No one you know.”

“Forgotten her name already?”

“Har har.” He rubbed his jaw and grimaced at the scratchiness. For sure he’d have to shave before hitting the stage tonight. Although, the beard was actually right in keeping with his routine. “I’ll swing by your place around ten tomorrow. You can make me breakfast.”

“Clearly you have me confused with someone who cooks. So
you
can stop at the bagel shop down the street on your way over. And tell those stingy bastards not to skimp on the packets of cream cheese this time.” After Jane blew him a kiss over the phone she clicked off, leaving him to wonder how she’d managed to sneak that fast one on him.

Shaking his head, he dropped his cell onto the nightstand and cracked a yawn before shoving up from the bed and taking care of business in the bathroom. There wasn’t much point in trying to fall back asleep. Mentally throttling Jane, he made tracks for the cramped kitchen in his apartment and got the makings together for his caffeine fix.

An hour later boredom got the best of him. Clicking off the TV before he slipped into a coma courtesy of another mindless talk show, he abandoned the couch and grabbed his jacket and keys. Rush hour hadn’t yet kicked in, so he reached the small, non-descript brick building housing the headquarters for Hunks for Hire in record time.

Cherrie, the administrative assistant and self-appointed mama bear to all of the guys, lifted her focus from her computer monitor and quirked an eyebrow as he strode through the entrance. “You’re up early.”

“Yeah, my sister’s more annoying than an alarm clock.”

A gruff snort sounded from the doorway to the left of Cherrie’s desk. “Understatement of the year.”

Cherrie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Pay no attention to him. He’s been a regular Oscar the Grouch all morning.”

Trig coughed into his fist. “In other words, his normal self?”

“I heard that, j-e-r-k-o-f-f.” The rather unflattering endearment was spelled out in individual letters.

Cherrie hitched her shoulder in response to Trig’s frown. “He’s got the kid with him today. It’s been kinda nice having a lock on his potty mouth.”

Another grumbling noise came from the other side of the wall. “I’m rethinking that generous raise I was planning to give you next month.”

Cherrie rubbed her eyes and fake sniffled. “And here I was really looking forward to that five dollar footlong it was going to buy me.”

Grinning at their good-natured sniping, Trig winked at Cherrie and ducked inside the owner’s office. He double-blinked at the sight of Jack sitting on the floor with his five-year-old daughter, Sunny. Jack was absorbed with the task of dressing the Barbie doll in his hands. Trig chuckled. “Getting some practice in?”

Jack glanced up at him and grunted. “Don’t laugh. I probably need it. Been a while since I’ve had any action with the real thing.”

Sunny wiggled onto her knees and slammed her tiny fists onto her hips. “Daddy, those shoes don’t go with that dress.”

“Everyone’s a fashion critic.” Jack removed the high heels in question. “Then I guess I’ll just have to wear them.”

An unrestrained giggle bubbled from Sunny. “Nooooooo. Your feet are too big!”

Jack donned a mock pout and turned his attention to Trig. “Can you believe she said that about her own father?”

“She’s right. You could give Bozo a run for the money.”

“Well, you know what they say about the size of a man’s feet.”

“TMI,” Cherrie shouted from the other room.