Mad About You (9 page)

She smeared cleanser over her face and began to painstakingly wipe off her makeup with the damp sponge. He’d brought her onto his team to help him get his Dreamcatcher to market, and to be a firewall preventing female distractions coming between him and the goal he was pursuing with his trademark single-minded tenacity. Was it fair for her to become the distraction?

But what if he wanted to make love? She rinsed the sponge, then splashed warm water over her face. There were definitely signs he was interested. She had caught him looking at her at dinner in a way she would swear wasn’t totally platonic. And that kiss at the cocktail party…
Oh my God
! The way he’d pulled her close and his tongue had moved against hers in an erotic dance, filling her with heat and turning her knees to jelly. Then there was the kiss at Tiffany. Not as carnal, but certainly more emotional. If only he would
say
something so she would know for sure how he felt about her.

She patted her face dry with a soft, fluffy towel from the heated rack. Could he have been acting when he’d kissed her? Was it possible for anyone to kiss the way he had either of those times and not mean it? Part of what she liked so much about him was his honesty. He never lied. Okay, he’d gone along with the charade that they were engaged. But he’d never lied to
her.

Cassy stripped off and got into the shower. What would he have said if she’d invited him in with her? Would he have reacted with horror, or worse, disinterest? Or would he have shucked his clothes as fast as he could?

She closed her eyes and let the warm spray pulse over her body. Images drifted through her mind of Scott out there, fully clothed, and her in here, naked and streaming with water. Only a door separated them. And in the room was a bed, a big bed. She pictured herself stepping out of the shower to find him waiting for her, taking her in his arms. Her body hummed with an erotic charge as she stroked soapy hands sensually over her breasts and between her legs, imagining Scott was touching
her
.

She moaned a little, as her clit began to tingle and her breasts ached. Eyes shut, she conjured him, hard and thick, entering her from behind, his hands moving over her bare, slippery flesh.
Oh
. She squeezed her nipples with one hand while the other found the soft folds between her legs and she plunged two, then three fingers inside, setting up a rhythmic motion of thrust and retreat. She came, sharp and fast, then sagged with her forehead against the wet tiled wall with both hands pressed to her mound, water still streaming down her head and back.

Slowly, she straightened and reached for the soap to finish washing. Her relief was short-lived. Far from satisfying her, the quick orgasm only fueled her desire. Her breasts still felt heavy and her sex throbbed almost painfully. She turned off the water and got out of the shower. Through the steam-clouded mirror she glimpsed her flushed face and swollen red nipples.

Even if he wanted her, it didn’t mean he
wanted
to want her.

Would he resent her if she came on to him?

Could she climb into bed with him and not try to seduce him?

She dried off and slathered herself with body lotion, nongreasy and faintly perfumed. Dispassionately, she regarded her reflection. With wet hair and no makeup, she was no femme fatale. But then she slipped the negligee over her head, a mere whisper against her sensitized skin, and saw how the light, soft fabric molded her curves and hinted at the dark shapes of her nipples and groin. She’d never felt more wanton and sexy.

She started to put on the dressing gown, then hesitated. Why act coy? Why not go after what she wanted and damn the consequences?

She hung the dressing gown on the door and went out, her heart tripping over itself as she casually walked into the sitting room. Deliberately, she paraded past Scott, who was perched on the edge of the sofa as keyed-up as a racehorse at the starting gate. “The bathroom’s all yours.”

He stared at her without speaking, his eyes burning. Nervously, she went to the ice bucket and lifted out the vintage champagne. With a twist of the cork she opened the bottle and let the frothing liquid slide into a long-necked flute. She held it out at arm’s length and leveled a direct gaze at him. “Or would you like a glass of bubbly first?”

“What are you doing?” Scott said in a strangled voice. “Are…are you trying to seduce me?”

Cassy poured another glass for herself and sat next to him, her knee touching his. Her negligee slid up her leg to mid-thigh. Handing him the champagne, she touched his glass with hers with a tiny crystal ring. “What if I was? Is it working?”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe I am, but I’m going to kiss you.” And she did.

His lips were firm and warm and delicious. Hers parted and his tongue slid inside. The erotic reality, on top of her shower fantasy, spiked her to full arousal. Frustratingly, she still held the flute and couldn’t get close. Drawing back briefly, she put her glass on the coffee table and did the same with his. She put her arms very deliberately around his neck and leaned in for another kiss. His eyes glazed with a slightly desperate look. She smiled a little. Whatever he thought he
should
do, he wanted her, no doubt about it. Huh. He didn’t have a chance.

She toyed with him, pressing soft kisses over his lips, licking the corner of his mouth, while she pressed her breasts against his chest. “Touch me, Scott. I want you to touch me.”

“Cassy, don’t say that… This isn’t who we are!”

“Isn’t it?” She took his hand and placed it on her breast, pressing until his fingers curved around her flesh. Then she edged closer to kiss his jaw. Slowly, inch by inch, she kissed and licked her way up to his mouth. “Tell me you haven’t wanted this, as I have, for years.”

His hand stilled on her breast. “I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. Or of you.”

“I’m taking advantage of you, you idiot. Trying to, anyway.” Her hand slid up his rock-hard thigh to brush his bulging erection. She cupped her palm around it, stroking the outside of his pants, relishing the leashed power beneath the strained fabric. “I can tell you want me. There’s no point denying it.”

Scott hesitated for a long tense beat of silence. After what seemed like an eternity he carefully placed her hand back in her lap and moved her leg off his. He shifted a couple of inches away from her. “We should be going over the pitch for tomorrow. I’m not ready.”

What?
Was he kidding her? Confusion clouded her brain. It took a few seconds for it to sink in that he meant it. When she finally got it, that her attempted seduction had failed, a boulder of disappointment and humiliation threatened to crush her chest. “But…but… We’ve been slaving away on the presentation all week.”

“You have. I’ve been finishing the prototype Dreamcatcher.”

“You know your subject back to front, inside and out. You don’t need to prepare. Just get up and yak away.”

“I told you, I’m not ready.” He spoke so sharply she jerked back.

“Well, sorry,” she said stiffly, mortified. “And sorry about the kissing. I misread your signals. I’ve been a fool. Clearly work is more tempting than I am.”

“Oh, God, Cassy. It’s not that. I’m just so confused.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “This is really bad timing.”

“I know. It’s late. We’re both tired. I, for one, have drunk too much.” She gabbled out excuses, anything to cover the awful truth that he simply didn’t want her.

“No, listen. My role in the presentation tomorrow really is a problem. I’m dreading it.” He went on almost eagerly, as if he’d found an explanation that would save her pride and give him an acceptable way out. “Public speaking isn’t my strong point.”

“It’s only Lorraine and Tod.”

“You’re not getting it.” His expression turned hunted. “It doesn’t matter how many people are there. Standing in front of an audience with all eyes focused on me is…scary.”

Cassy’s jaw dropped. Scott always seemed so confident and together. To discover that he was afraid of public speaking was nothing short of astonishing. They’d been friends for twenty years and there were still things she didn’t know about him. “You never said anything like this before.”

“I don’t exactly go around trumpeting what I’m bad at. You’re so good at public speaking. Didn’t you ever notice that when we did class projects together in high school you were the one who always did the talking?”

“Now that you mention it, yes. I thought that was just me being pushy and you being polite and letting me get the glory.” A silence fell over them. Her shoulders hunched forward as she twisted her fingers in her lap. The pink diamond solitaire caught the light and winked mockingly at her. She felt so exposed and vulnerable. She wanted to run and hide. The sexy moment had passed and they were discussing business with her wearing a flimsy nightgown. “I’ll do the talking tomorrow, too. You just sit back and answer questions.”

He shook his head. “Lorraine specifically said she was looking forward to me explaining how the Dreamcatcher works. I don’t want to blow my big chance. Tonight we work on the pitch,” he reiterated. “First I’ll go take a shower. A cold shower. Maybe you could put on something less…comfortable?”

Her cheeks burning, Cassy nodded. “Sure. It was a dumb idea anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking. Too much wine at dinner probably.”

He’d warned her ages ago. Why hadn’t she listened? She’s gotten all caught up in the banter and flirtatious glances passing between them lately. In all the excitement and glamour, she’d deluded herself into believing he felt more for her than he did. She’d forgotten their engagement was a fraud. Well, the joke was on her.

Ha ha. Laughing my ass off.

…

Scott felt like a jerk leaving Cassy sitting on the couch feeling embarrassed and miserable. He grabbed his shaving bag and shut the bathroom door behind him, then flipped on the shower, angling the handle to blue. He hadn’t been kidding about taking a cold shower. Of all the women for him to get so hot and worked up over. She must despise him right now for blowing her off. Truth was, he’d freaked at how much he’d wanted to rip off that scrap of nightie and get his hands, mouth, and tongue on her luscious, soft skin.

Stop it. Jeez
. Carefully he unzipped his pants and peeled them down to release his throbbing erection. Hell. He wasn’t going to get any work done with that bad boy making his presence felt. He stepped into the shower and winced as cool water pelted down on his shoulders.

Three minutes later, he was almost an ice block, but images of Cassy still filled his mind and his cock was still standing painfully at attention. There was only one thing to do…

Cassy’s soft curves flashed before his closed eyes as he stroked and pulled, one arm braced on the wet ivory-colored tiles, picturing himself pushing into her. In and out. Harder. Faster. A groan emerged with the last sharp tug and he spilled himself into the swirling water at the bottom of the shower. He stood there, panting, letting his heart rate slow. The awful truth sank in. While he’d gotten some physical release just now, it wouldn’t last, and the chaos in his brain hadn’t let up one iota. Instead of relaxing, he felt even more wound up.

There had been plenty of times over the years that he’d gotten hard because of Cassy, but he’d always been able to control it, to shut those urges and feelings away in a separate compartment of his brain. Since she’d come to live with him it was more and more difficult to thrust those feelings aside. And now she was saying she wanted to make love, openly offering herself to him. Just thinking about that was making him hard again already. This was what he’d been afraid of for years, that the day would come when work and other women and masturbating wouldn’t be enough for him. When he would need Cassy, and Cassy alone. When no one, and nothing else, would satisfy him.

It looked as if that day had come.

He dried off and put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, then went out to the sitting room.

Cassy was seated at the small round dining table between the couch and the window, her feet encased in bunny slippers and her tightly wrapped dressing gown covering her up to her neck. She didn’t glance up, just moved her laptop so he could sit down.

“Why don’t you practice giving me the pitch?” she said. “Pretend I’m Lorraine. Wow me with your amazing invention.”

He would rather wow Cassy with his prowess in bed. But that wasn’t going to happen.
No sir, nuh-uh.

“I suspect Lorraine isn’t easily wowed.” Scott opened his briefcase and got out his notes scribbled on a piece of loose-leaf paper.

“Stand up,” Cassy instructed.

He rose, cleared his throat, paced away a few steps, and walked back. Even though it was just Cassy, the butterflies were beating their wings against the walls of his stomach. It didn’t help that his cock was half-erect and he worried she would be able to see it through the soft fabric of his pants. What a hypocrite. He wanted to get into her just as much as she wanted it. A whole lot more probably.

Cassy leaned back in her chair. “I’m ready.”

Trigger words. She hadn’t meant it sexually, but his dick didn’t seem to know that. Man, it was hard to concentrate. “I’ve created, um, a product so revolutionary that, uh, it will…”