Skin on Skin (3 page)

Not to mention the spectacular cleavage, but Tony was trying to ignore that. Former porn star or not, Carlotta was, after all, Lauren’s mother.

“Sweetie, you look absolutely gorgeous,” Carlotta gushed, holding Lauren’s hands out to her sides.

Tony stifled a laugh as Lauren begrudgingly turned in a circle so her mother could appreciate the full effect of her outfit.

Big dark eyes lit on Tony’s face and Carlotta’s grin grew even wider, if that was possible. “Oooh, you must be Tony,” she said and caught him in a fierce, quick hug. She stood back and cast a sidelong glance at Lauren. “I can see why you’d want to pretty yourself up for this one. He’s absolutely gorgeous,” she cooed. Tony stood gamely as Carlotta ran her hands from his shoulders to his forearms. “And so delightfully
big
.”

Lauren’s expression dared him to make a lewd remark. “Thanks, Mrs. MacLean,” was all he said.

“Oh, you must call me Carly,” she said as she looped an arm through each of their elbows and tugged them into the house. The clacking of her heels echoed off the marble floors and Tony was so dumbstruck by the sheer display of wealth he almost didn’t catch what Carly said next.

“I was so excited when Lauren said she was bringing you, Tony. And I can’t tell you how nice it is to see her dating someone size-appropriate.”

“Mom,” Lauren said warningly.

“Honestly, Tony, the last guy she brought home was so spindly, you just know she would have broken his hips if she got on top.”

“
Motherrrr!”

Tony couldn’t contain his laughter this time. Lauren’s face got even redder when he said, “Nothing to worry about there, Carly. I’m built very…solidly.” He followed this with a heated glance at Lauren.

She rolled her eyes.

Tony stopped and gently disengaged his arm from Carly’s and grabbed Lauren around the waist. Knowing that Carly watched his every move with great interest, he said, “Come on, honey, don’t be embarrassed,” he said, and leaned in close to whisper, “Better start the show.”

Before she could react, he caught her firm chin in his fingers and tilted her mouth up to his. He tasted her gasp of surprise, felt her shock as his lips moved over hers. Teasingly, he flicked his tongue against the soft curves, almost groaning when she suddenly remembered her role and obligingly parted her lips. Her hands slid up to wrap around his neck, and finally she kissed him back like the lover she pretended to be.

The hot slide of her tongue against his sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. He’d imagined kissing her, touching her, for months, and the reality was better than anything he’d ever imagined. She tasted sweet and salty, and the tentative flicks of her tongue made him want to yank down his jeans and bury his cock in her right there in her mother’s foyer.

His hand settled in the firm curve of her waist and slid it slowly up her rib cage. His fingers tingled as they anticipated the soft heavy weight of her breast against them.

But Lauren frantically grabbed his wrist, stopping his progress north. Tearing her mouth from his, she leaned in as though to kiss his neck and breathed, “I think she’s convinced we like each other.”

Heat flooded his face as he reminded himself sternly that this was all supposed to be an act. “Right,” he said and looked up to see Carly watching them with unabashed glee. He raked a shaky hand through his hair, very much afraid that by the time the weekend was over, he was going to have a record-setting case of blue balls.

“I’ll get you two drinks and you can go say hello to your father. He’s out by the pool with everyone else,” she said, gesturing toward the back of the house. “Then you can go be alone,” she winked.

Lauren clutched at Tony’s hand for balance as they continued through the living room and down the hall to the pool deck. The combination of her flimsy kitten-heeled slides and Tony’s unbelievable kiss were enough to throw her completely off-kilter. God, if that was the way he kissed when he was pretending, how would it feel if he meant it?

Not that it would ever happen, but she was pretty sure that if Tony ever turned the full force of his lust on her, she would spontaneously combust. Even now it was hard to keep her focus, and all he did was hold her hand, fingers tightly interlaced between hers.

About twenty people lounged around the pool deck, the night chill offset by several propane heat lamps. Mostly people from the entertainment industry—producers, directors, and their surgically enhanced trophy wives. Immediately she felt the familiar self-consciousness she experienced whenever she went home to southern California. That feeling of being too big, too bulky, ungroomed, and unkempt. Most of the time she was satisfied with her strong, athletic figure. She was toned and fit, and her body could do just about any athletic undertaking she asked of it. But somehow, around her parent’s crowd, she suddenly felt like she should stop taking up so much goddamn space.

She snuck a glance at Tony, who was taking in the scene. She could only imagine how this must look to him, the beautiful people gathered around the exquisite infinity pool that seemed to drop into the ocean below. She could only pray that Tony could keep his prowling instinct at bay enough to convince her family he was truly into her. So far he didn’t look particularly interested in any of the female guests. But tomorrow would be worse, and Lauren had no doubt the guests would include any number of hot young things who had worked with Lauren’s father.

Mark MacLean presided at the bar—a big redhead with a jovial smile that hid a cunningly sharp creative mind. When he saw Lauren, a wide smile creased his tan, freckled face and his blue eyes nearly disappeared in a sea of laugh lines. He came out from behind the bar and swept her up into a big bear hug. She buried her face in his chest and inhaled the familiar, comforting scents of Irish spring soap and salty air.

“Look at you! You look like a girl,” he said bluntly, his words softened by the admiration in his gaze. “I tell you, I could cast you for commercials.”

Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I mean it. I’m doing a shoot for a health club chain, and we need footage of someone strong, fit, and gorgeous.”

“She’s definitely all that,” Tony said behind her and offered his hand to Mark.

Lauren made a quick introduction and fought a grin as her father pinned Tony with an assessing stare. It was the age-old way fathers had of intimidating anyone who tried to get into their daughter’s pants. To his credit, Tony maintained his pleasant smile and said, “You have a lovely home, sir.”

That’s right, she thought, lay on that Eddie Haskell act, the one that no doubt fooled dozens of fathers over the years.

Mark ignored the compliment. “So you and Lauren work together.”

“Yes sir, for about the past seven months.”

“And how long have you been seeing each other?”

“Four months,” he said at the exact same moment Lauren said, “Two months.”

“Well, which is it?”

Tony smiled conspiratorially at Mark and said, “For a couple of months there, what she considered hanging, I considered dates.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and she allowed herself the luxury of leaning into his solid warmth.

Mark chuckled, his face relaxing as he was convinced of Tony’s affection. “Sounds like Lauren. She always had guy friends, but never realized they wanted to do more than watch football, if you know what I mean.”

She shook her head as they shared a knowing laugh. If only what her dad said was true. She’d never told her parents about that humiliating incident with Brandon, the one time she’d been stupid enough to try to push the boundaries of friendship.

“Hey, don’t pout,” Tony leaned in and stole a quick peck. The brief contact was enough to startle her from her musings. But almost immediately, grim thoughts intruded. Once again, she lusted after her best friend. Only this time she had the added bonus of being tormented by touches and kisses that would lead absolutely nowhere.

“I’m not pouting,” she said, pulling away slightly. “I’m just tired from the drive.”

“Just one drink, sweetie, and then we’ll let you go.” Carly’s heels clacked across the terra-cotta stone terrace and she thrust icy glasses into their hands. “I hope you like mojitos, Tony,” Carly said with a wink. “That’s the official drink of the evening.”

Tony took a tentative sip and nodded in satisfaction.
Damn, he’s good,
Lauren thought as she took a hefty sip of her own drink. She knew for a fact that Tony hated hard liquor in any form, and was strictly a beer and wine guy. But as he politely sipped his drink and made small talk with Lauren’s parents, his face showed no evidence of his distaste. Unless, like Lauren, one had spent several hours a day for over six months watching and studying every gorgeous line of his face. Even then it was hard to spot, but Lauren could see the faint twist of his lips with every sip, the slight flare of his nostrils as the bite of the liquor hit his throat.

And they say women fake it.

Lauren quickly polished off her drink, eager to escape her parents’ inspection and the pleasure-pain of Tony’s delicious loverlike touches that meant absolutely nothing.

She stretched her jaw in an exaggerated yawn. “I’m beat. Mom, should we put our stuff in my room?”

“Oh, no, dear,” Carly said with her tinkling, charming little laugh. “I booked you a room at the Balboa Bay Club.” She winked conspiratorially at Tony. “I wouldn’t want you to feel inhibited by sleeping in the same house as your parents.”

“Carly,” Mark said warningly.

“Oh Mark, don’t be such an old stiffie.” Even the usually cool Tony couldn’t smother a laugh at Carly’s interesting choice of words. Mark just rolled his eyes in exaggerated affection.

“Now, you two go on, and we’ll see you tomorrow.” Wild curls and the scent of gardenia enveloped Lauren as her mother pulled her close. “But not too early,” she whispered, loud enough for Tony to hear.

N
ot too early turned out to be about six-thirty
AM
for Tony. Even that was a test of his endurance. For a man not big on self-restraint, spending even one
platonic
night in the same bed as Lauren was enough to send him over the edge. Now, as the morning sun turned the ocean from dark blue to marine, he ran down the sandy stretch, ignoring the burning of his calf muscles as they dug into the soft sand.

With limited privacy in the room, a run was the best way he could think of to eradicate the truly spectacular (if he did say so himself) display of morning wood he’d woken up with this morning.

He’d known he was up shit’s creek the minute they entered the room at the Balboa Bay Club. All the suites were taken, Carly had explained, so they would have to make do with a regular ocean-view room.

It was still the nicest hotel room Tony had ever been in. Expensively furnished and beautifully decorated in shades of sage green, the room had every amenity a man could ask for. From the fully stocked wet bar, state of the art entertainment system, and private balcony that offered an unimpeded view of the Pacific, the room epitomized luxury.

It had only one glaring flaw.

Only one bed.

Lauren had shot him a wary glance as the bellman placed their bags on the luggage tray. As soon as the bellman left, Tony had indicated the overstuffed sofa. “I’ll sleep there.”

“No way,” Lauren had protested. “You’re doing me the favor, so if anyone sleeps on the couch, it should be me.” She’d studied the bed, frowning. “Or we could always share the bed,” she’d offered tentatively.

That stymied him. On the one hand, he knew a night in the same bed as Lauren, listening to her soft breath, knowing her sleepy warmth was just inches away, was guaranteed torture. On the other hand, some heretofore undiscovered masochistic side of him wanted nothing more than to sleep beside her.

And she looked so worried, biting that succulent lower lip that he knew would taste like tart lime and rum, how could he hurt her feelings by refusing?

“Okay,” he’d agreed. “Damn thing is so big it practically has two zip codes.”

With that settled, the brewing tension had eased somewhat, helped along by a couple of beers from the minibar.

Until Tony had discovered some additional nonstandard amenities in the room. The basket looked innocent enough, large and brown, made of woven wood. It even had a bouquet of flowers. The fact that they were those tropical flowers that looked like they had penises should have tipped him off.

But the contents were anything but innocent. Sipping idly at his beer as Lauren channel surfed in search of the Giants score, he’d started rummaging through the contents. He pulled out the first item and dropped it as though it were a rattlesnake.

“What the hell?” The pink rubber dildo bounced as it hit the carpet. Along with it were a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs, cherry-flavored massage oil, and a pair of panties with some sort of battery hookup.

The image of Lauren handcuffed to the bed as he sucked cherry essence off her nipples was enough to make his cock jerk in immediate and violent interest.

“What is it?”

He carefully kept his back to her as she came up behind him. She gasped, startled, when she saw the unnaturally bright penis on the floor. “Oh, no.”

She shoved him aside and dug through the basket, muttering and shaking her head. A few seconds later, she triumphantly held up a card and tore it open, mumbling, “I knew it.”

“Dear Lauren,” she read, her voice ringing with exasperated disbelief, “I hope you enjoy the toys. I wasn’t sure what flavor Tony liked, so I picked cherry. It seems to be a universal favorite. Love, Mom.”

“I don’t believe her,” Lauren moaned, sinking onto the bed, face flaming. Her mouth gaped and her eyes got wide, as though she were on the verge of hysterical laughter or hysterical tears.

Humor was the only way out of this. Picking up the rubbery latex dildo, he shook it in Lauren’s face. “I think I may be insulted. Is your mom implying I can’t get the job done?”

Lauren shrieked and fell back, giggling as she tried to escape the fake penis waving snakelike next to her nose. “Gross!” She snatched it from him, shrieking again when she realized she held a ten-inch—and but for the color—very realistic-looking replica of an erect penis. “This is ridiculous! I mean, it’s so big it has to be a joke.”

Tony looked pointedly at his fly and back to the dildo. “I dunno. Length-wise, I’d say it’s about a match, but girth-wise I think I have it beat.”

Laughter fled from her eyes and her eyes got dark and speculative. But a nanosecond later the humor was back and she just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“Just say the word and I’ll show you the proof,” he waggled his eyebrows, eliciting another laugh, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.

“She is so inappropriate,” Lauren said incredulously. “What mother buys her daughter—and a boyfriend she’s never met—a full array of sex toys?”

He had no answer for that, and sensed she wasn’t really seeking one. He looked down and saw that, in her frustration, Lauren was twisting the rubbery shaft rather violently. “It hurts me to watch you do that,” he said, gently removing it from her grip.

She looked down, and realizing what she was doing, dropped the rubbery phallus with a muffled curse.

“With technique like that, no wonder she worries about your sex life,” Tony chuckled.

Hurt embarrassment flooded her eyes then, and he knew he’d hit a particularly raw nerve. “Hey, I was just kidding,” he said quickly, “you know that.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Some of us aren’t natural contenders for the bedroom Olympics,” she said and disappeared into the bathroom.

He hated that she made him feel like an asshole, especially when he had no way of knowing he’d poked a sore spot. By the time Lauren emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, he’d worked up a decent level of irritation.

But then she sat down on the bed next to him, face scrubbed clean of makeup and looking so earnest as she laid a palm on his thigh. “I’m sorry I overreacted. Don’t be mad, okay?”

He laid his hand over hers, feeling like even more of dick. “It’s my fault. Sometimes I don’t know what’s off-limits.”

She smiled in consternation. “Usually I can take it, as you well know. But my love life—or lack thereof—is a sensitive subject.”

One she hadn’t been willing to discuss any further, and by mutual agreement the subject was dropped. The dildo went back into the basket, which was shoved as far back in the closet as possible.

Now as he pounded back up the beach to the hotel, he wondered what had happened to Lauren to make her so self-conscious about her own sexuality. She wasn’t uptight and was rarely offended by his often vulgar sense of humor, but now that he thought about it, she never talked about her own sex life. And it wasn’t just the pressures of having a porn star for a mom, although he imagined that was enough to give any woman a complex.

All the more reason to stay far, far away from her. Tony made it a point to give women with sexual baggage a wide berth, as they were more likely to put a high value on sex, often confusing it with commitment or love, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt Lauren further. But how a woman as beautiful and sexy as she could be so shy when it came to sex, he didn’t understand. Then again, he didn’t understand 99.9% about women and their hang-ups.

Lauren spent most of her hour-long run psyching herself up for the evening to come. Tony had already been up and out by the time she woke up for the second time. The first time had been at about four
AM
and she’d been plastered against Tony, her breasts nestled against the unyielding muscles of his back, her leg hooked over his. Through the fabric of her tank top and his T-shirt she felt the heat of his skin, the subtle shift of muscle and sinew as he breathed deep in sleep.

In some part of her sleep-fogged mind, she tried to dismiss the urge to cuddle as the result of overpowered air conditioning. But the need for warmth didn’t explain why her nipples were beaded into hard knots or why her pussy throbbed and ached against the firm muscles of his ass.

Even in sleep, her body had sensed and submitted to Tony’s sexual magnetism.

Thank God she’d managed to scoot away without him being any the wiser. Like it wasn’t embarrassing enough that her mother had sent them a basket of sex toys. She couldn’t bear to seal her humiliation by actually hitting on him, even it if it was in her sleep.

At the very least, she thought, as she rode the elevator up to their room, she would have no difficulty convincing her parents and their friends of her attraction. And Tony had already proven his ability to convincingly fake it.

She slid the card key in the door and wiped her sweaty face with the hem of her T-shirt. She pushed open the door and her heart rate immediately spiked at the sight that greeted her.

Tony stood in the middle of the room clad only in a towel, evidently having just stepped from the shower. Beads of water slid down the silky dark skin of his chest, disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist. His forearm flexed as he flipped through channels on the remote, and Lauren was mesmerized by the play of muscle under flesh from such a ridiculously ordinary motion.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips as another bead slid from his damp, slicked-back hair, pausing on his neck before traveling down the slope of shoulder.

“Are you okay? You look flushed.”

Her gaze snapped to his face and he greeted her with a friendly smile, as though there was nothing unusual about being in a room together with him practically naked but for a strategically placed swath of terry cloth.

“It’s already hot out,” she said, hoping that would be adequate explanation for her undoubtedly beet-red face. Of course this was normal, she thought sullenly, trying to cool her body’s overheated reaction. Tony saw her as just one of the guys, right? No doubt he felt no more uncomfortable than he would in the men’s locker room at the gym.

She twisted open a bottle of water and stomped onto the balcony so she wouldn’t have to look at and lust after his nearly perfect form. What was the big deal, anyway? It wasn’t as though she’d never seen Tony with his shirt off. Hell, she’d even seen him in a bathing suit when they’d gone out to the lake over the summer.

And every time, lust had raged, but not like this. Somehow this was more intimate. There was actually a bed not ten feet from her. If she were the sort of woman to make the first move, she might strip off his towel with a smooth flick of her wrist, push him back on the bed and climb on for the ride of her life.

Instead she gulped the icy spring water and contemplated shoving the bottle between her thighs.

Tony followed her outside, bearing a cup of coffee. She snuck a sidelong glance, noting that he still hadn’t dressed. Mimicking his casual demeanor, she took the cup and sipped, nodding in approval as she tasted just the right amount of milk and sugar. The reminder of familiarity grounded her and she managed not to gape or drool when she turned to face him.

He leaned back against the railing, arms crossed over his naked chest. His hair was nearly dry, faintly curling around his ears and sweeping off his forehead in that cowlick she so loved. She could smell the scent of soap and his skin, heated from the morning sun, and it took everything she had not to bury her nose in his chest and kiss a path down the soft line of hair bisecting his abdomen.

But, while he smelled intoxicating, she knew she didn’t. Even though she and Tony had worked out together dozens of time, she was suddenly embarrassed by the sweaty, smelly mess she presented. She quickly finished her coffee and said, “I’m going to shower and we can go get breakfast.” She prayed he’d be dressed by the time she got out of the shower.

They were entering dangerous territory.

Tony couldn’t ignore the flash of lust in Lauren’s eyes, and he knew her flush came from more than the morning heat. There’d been no disguising the interest in her eyes, the heat of her gaze as it slid over every inch of his bare skin. He’d hoped to be dressed by the time she got back, but it would have been weird if he’d scrambled for his clothes the second she came in. So he’d played it off as no big deal, praying she couldn’t see his burgeoning erection threatening to tent out the front of his towel.

But now he knew, with one-hundred-percent certainty, that Lauren wasn’t indifferent to him at all. That her indifference was just an act, and that underneath her friendly façade, she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He quickly pulled on his clothes as erotic images flooded his brain. His mouth watered at the thought of stripping her naked, sucking those gorgeous tits into his mouth. Were her nipples pink or mocha brown? Large and soft or hard, tight buds?

From the bathroom came sounds of the shower running. He could find out right now. His cock swelled against his fly as he imagined water sluicing over her skin, cascading over the firm juicy swell of her ass, gathering and beading in the wiry curls between her thighs.

His hand was reaching for the doorknob when he was jerked back to reality by the sound of the faucet shutting off. What the hell was he thinking? Did he want to ruin everything?

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to quell the urge to barge into the bathroom and lick her dry. Every nerve hummed in anticipation as he listened to the muffled sounds from the bathroom. He imagined her rubbing her fresh, sweet-smelling lotion on her damp skin. He’d discovered it earlier when he showered and had nearly come when he’d recognized the soft, subtle scent that always emanated from her skin. He’d rubbed a bit on his palm, stroked it down his shaft and jerked himself to a quick, hard release. He’d spurted against the shower wall as his head filled with the scent of Lauren and the imagined feel of her wet, exquisitely tight pussy milking him as she came.

Christ, he needed to stop thinking about her or he was going to need to rub another one out just to keep from jumping her when she exited the bathroom.