Skin on Skin (4 page)

Somehow Lauren managed to keep her wits about her as she and Tony spent the morning running last-minute errands for her mother and picking up the anniversary gift she’d had made for her parents. She’d special-ordered a framed collage full of old photos of their family throughout the years.

Tony was his usual entertaining and charming self, and for a little while Lauren allowed herself to fantasize about what it would be like if they were a couple. Really nice, she decided as they walked hand in hand along the boardwalk. He’d escalated his usual friendly touches, holding her hand and dropping the occasional kiss on her cheek.

At first, she’d stiffened at the contact, unsure of what to make of it. Tony had scolded her, reminding her of his purpose there this weekend. “You need to stop jumping like a scalded cat every time I touch you,” he’d said. “If you want people to believe we’re lovers, you have to give the impression that you’re used to my hands on you.”

“You stuck your tongue down my throat in front of everyone last night,” Lauren snapped. “I thought that was pretty convincing.”

Tony shook his head. “Lovers share a level of intimacy, a familiarity with one another’s bodies that’s conveyed almost unconsciously.” He moved purposely closer, until the scent of soap and light masculine sweat hit her nostrils. “They get in each other’s space.”

“You’re always in my space,” she muttered.

“But now you notice, where you didn’t before.”

Oh, she had always noticed.

“You’re self-conscious about it, now that you actually have to
pretend
you’re attracted to me,” he said. His dark eyes and darker voice hypnotized her as he leaned closer. “See, you’re stiffening up,” he kneaded her shoulders for emphasis and her knees went gummy. “You need to relax, act as though you’re used to having me touch you all the time,” he leaned and his hot breath tickled her earlobe, “used to having me touch you everywhere.”

Oh, she was toast. He could have stripped off her shorts and fucked her right there on the sidewalk if he’d wanted. Instead he’d tucked her hand in his and Lauren spent the rest of the day indulging herself in his loverlike caresses, twining her fingers in his, leaning into his wall of a chest when he slipped an arm around her waist, even nuzzling her nose into the heated dip in his throat.

Of course, none of this meant anything, she reminded herself firmly during her fleeting moments of sanity.

But hey, if he wanted to bulk up on rehearsal time, who was she to complain?

By the time she showered and got ready for the party, every nerve hummed with sexual anticipation. All the more frustrating because she knew it would go unsatisfied. Oh well. At the very least it distracted her from being nervous.

She combed the styling product Karen had given her into her damp hair, marveling again at how the slippery stuff turned her mop of frizz into smooth, bouncy curls. Then, following Karen’s instructions, she pulled the heavy mass into a twist, allowing a few tendrils to curl around her face and neck.

She studied her makeup with a critical eye. Karen had supplied her with a palette of neutral tones, assuring Lauren that anyone with opposable thumbs could do an acceptable makeup job. “You can’t overapply any of this,” she’d sworn. “As long as you don’t streak mascara down your cheek, you’ll be just fine.”

Lauren wasn’t a complete moron with makeup, but it had been ages since she’d worn more than sunscreen, mascara, and lipstick. She slicked on one last coat of peach gloss, noting that the color almost matched the flowers on her dress.

Now the dress, that really freaked her out. She stepped back a few feet, wishing the dressing area had a full-length mirror. In the vanity she could only see herself from the waist up, and she wondered for at least the dozenth time why she’d allowed Karen to talk her into buying this.

Not that the creamy floral print didn’t flatter her smooth, tan complexion and reddish hair, but it left her so…bare. The crisscross bodice put her breasts at the center of attention, plumping them up until they remained covered only by a miracle of fashion engineering. The spaghetti straps showed her toned arms and shoulders, and, while Karen claimed she looked strong and sexy, Lauren feared she bore a more than passing resemblance to a linebacker. The bias cut skimmed her ample curves and the hem settled just above her knee. At least she’d keep cool in the unseasonably hot weather.

The shoes, she conceded, were semireasonable, although she would have much preferred buying them in a practical color like beige or even cream. But Karen had insisted the peach leather kitten-heel slides were the perfect complement to the dress. Thank God Karen hadn’t pushed her into buying stilettos. The dress was precarious enough—any extra tottering or wobbling would have immediately resulted in a wardrobe malfunction.

Steeling herself, she straightened her shoulders and twirled a curl around her finger until it coiled just so. As she exited the dressing area, she saw Tony sitting in the overstuffed armchair near the sliding glass door of the balcony, looking hotter than sin. His wheat-colored button-down shirt emphasized the rich color of his skin and hair, while his tobacco-colored trousers molded to his defined thighs as he sat with his ankle propped on his knee. He had a funny half smile on his face as he read…her copy of
The Stealthy Rogue.

“You really get off on this,” he laughed, not looking up from the book. “
His hand caressed her plump mounds, seeking the hard berry tips pressing against her bodice.”
He skimmed farther, choking on a laugh as he read, “
His thick shaft sprang from its curly nest!
Curly nest? Do women actually get off on this kind of shit?”

Lauren flew across the room and snatched the paperback from his grasp. “Shut up! I like the story.” She stuffed the book in her suitcase.

She spun around, hands on hips to find Tony staring at her with what could only be classified as a stunned expression. His eyes raked her from curls to toe polish. One word, one crack, and she would clock him…

His gaze made a return trip up her legs, over her midsection and hung right about chest level. “Speaking of plump mounds…”

She picked up a pillow and threw it at him.

“You look…” he shook his head, searching for words. Had she actually rendered Tony Donovan, king of glib, speechless? “Unfuckingbelievable. I mean it, Lauren, you’re on fire.”

A wave of pleasure hit her as she saw the truth in his eyes. His expression reflected open admiration and maybe the barest hint of sexual interest in his dark chocolate eyes.

He picked up the car keys and steered her toward the door. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to show everyone the hottie I scored.”

I
f that little punk didn’t stop gaping at Lauren’s tits, Tony was going to kick his ass so hard he’d taste it in the back of his throat.

He’d smelled trouble the second Lauren spotted him across the pool, noted the way he’d stared at Lauren as her parents renewed their vows. After dinner was served, Carly brought the douche bag’s presence to Lauren’s attention. “Look sweetie, Brandon’s here. You haven’t seen him in ages.”

While Lauren had been well aware of Brandon’s presence all along, as soon as her mother motioned him over, Lauren’s arms had tensed. She immediately, unconsciously, started preening, straightening her shoulders, subtly sticking her chest out until Tony was afraid her breasts were going to spill out of the wispy fabric of her dress. Feigning casualness, Lauren waved at the guy who stood by the bar at the far side of the pool. Tony immediately resented the way she smiled with nervous anticipation, like she couldn’t wait to get reacquainted and catch up on old times. “Who’s Braden?” he’d asked, deliberately mispronouncing the name.

Lauren tracked the other man’s progress, playing it cool, letting him come to her. “Brandon,” she corrected, “was my best friend all through junior high and high school.”

Best friend, my ass, he thought as he noted the nervous flutter of her pulse against her throat. He hated Brandon on sight, with his pretty-boy good looks and hundred-dollar haircut. He carried his lean frame with a grace that reeked of years spent on exclusive golf courses and sailing expensive yachts.

Lauren quickly introduced them and Tony firmly shook the other man’s hand, mentally scoffing at its manicured smoothness.

As Lauren and Brandon began reminiscing about old times, Tony absently regarded his own oversize workman’s hands. If Brandon even knew how to hold a hammer, Tony would dress up in a tutu and dance Swan Lake.

But none of that seemed to matter to Lauren, who had cozied right up to long-lost lover boy.

“Don’t worry about Brandon,” Carly whispered to his left.

He took a fortifying sip of beer. “Who’s worried?”

Her laugh tinkled over the disco tune the DJ played. “Believe me, I know that look. I put it on Mark’s face often enough. Lauren only has eyes for you. She just wants her little taste of revenge.”

“For what?”

She waved her hand evasively. “She thinks I don’t know about it but…well, she should be the one to tell you. Let’s just say Brandon didn’t appreciate what he had right in front of him.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. If Brandon was any more appreciative of Lauren’s bountiful charms, he would be dipping his tongue into her cleavage.

“So how long have you been dating
him?”
Tony heard Brandon ask. Tony’s hand white-knuckled around his beer bottle at the other man’s derisive tone.
Him,
as though Tony wasn’t standing less than a yard away, as though he was some poor piece of trash she’d brought into their fancy little world.

He nearly shattered the bottle at Lauren’s reply. “Not long. It’s nothing very serious.”

Translation: you could still have me if you want me.

Clearly, Lauren hadn’t told him the whole story. This weekend wasn’t about getting Mommy dearest to remove her nose from Lauren’s love life; it was about making sure douche bag here saw what he’d been missing.

He grinned at that. If she wanted to make Brandon jealous, Tony would be only too happy to oblige. As long as neither Lauren nor Brandon had any illusions about whom Lauren would be spending the night with.

A voice warned him he was about to cross a line, and once he did, there would be no going back. But right now, he didn’t care. He was sick of watching Lauren flirt with another man, sick of denying himself when he knew damn well she wanted it as bad as he did. Unfamiliar jealousy curdled in his gut as Lauren laughed huskily at something Brandon said.

His hand settled on the curve of her hip. Playtime was over. It was time to make his move.

Lauren started as Tony wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and pressed his warm, moist mouth against the tender skin of her throat. She shuddered as his hot breath caressed her ear.

“Now honey, I know you want to let him down gently, but when it comes to you and your sexy body, I’m very serious.”

She couldn’t see Tony’s expression but she could tell from the subtle tension on Brandon’s patrician features that Tony was giving him his patented “Don’t fuck with me” stare. The same one he used when someone was stupid enough to think Tony’s charming, affable surface hid either a lack of intelligence or a weak will.

Obligingly, Lauren lifted her arm behind her and wove her fingers into the waves at the back of Tony’s neck. Brandon’s lips pursed, and she nearly ruined the effect by giggling.

Poor Brandon. She was a jerk to mess with him this way, but she couldn’t help herself. But seeing him again after all this time, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what she’d seen in him, as a friend or a lover. He was handsome, she supposed, in a bland, vanilla rich-boy sort of way. And now that she had years to reflect on the friendship they had shared, she saw how incredibly one-sided it had been.

Brandon was the kind of guy who wanted her around when he needed a designated driver, or someone to write an English paper he’d blown off until the last minute. But ask him for a favor and he acted like you were asking for the Hope diamond.

She couldn’t help the feminine thrill that had zinged through her when he had noticed—and obviously appreciated—her temporary makeover.

Leer all you want,
she thought as he gazed at her cleavage, made even more pronounced by Tony’s arm pressing her breasts up from beneath.
You had your chance at this a long time ago, and you didn’t give a shit.

Playing it up, she leaned back against Tony and sighed, “Is it just my body you care about?” She tilted her head up and met Tony’s very convincing amorous gaze. So convincing that for a moment she forgot her performance. Where Brandon was blandly pretty, Tony was all smoldering, hot, dark beauty, the embodiment of twisted sheets and hot sweaty sex.

Tony traced a seductive finger over her bottom lip. “You know better than that.”

Brandon muttered something about refreshing his drink. Neither noticed when he left. Slowly Lauren turned in his arms, felt his hands slide from the bare skin of her shoulders down to her waist. His head bent slowly, almost tentatively, until finally his mouth met hers.

Heat coiled and exploded in her belly at that first gentle touch. Somehow, she knew this kiss was different. This was no act to convince her parents or Brandon or anyone else who might be watching that they were lovers. This was a slow slide, the inquisitive taste of a man asking a question and begging for a yes.

Lauren didn’t care who saw them. She coiled her arms around Tony’s neck and slid her tongue between his lips. He met it with a hot, slippery slide of his own, tasting hot and musky and so sexy she wanted to push him down on the patio and crawl all over him. Cupping her cheek, he tilted her head to the side, adjusting the angle of their kiss until he could fully explore every slick inch of her tongue and inner cheeks.

She almost burst into tears when he lifted his mouth. He looked around, dark eyes hooded and slightly dazed and said, “Well, I guess we reminded Brandon who you came with.”

An icy knot gripped her intestines. How could she have been so stupid! Of course it was still an act to him, of course he was trying to put on a good show. Any genuine passion she’d imagined had only been a reflection of her own overstimulated hormones.

Then he gazed down at her with those sinful dark eyes. “How soon can we leave?”

“Anytime, I suppose. Why?”

He bent his head until his forehead rested against hers and he answered in a low whisper. “Because I want to take you back to the hotel and fuck you until we’re both too tired to move.” He emphasized this with a subtle shift of his hips, until she could feel the hard press of his cock against her belly. Even through the fabric of their clothing she could feel the heat, the throbbing tension barely contained by the fly of his trousers.

Every nerve ending went on high alert as creamy wetness gushed between her thighs. There began a steady pulsebeat, matched in the hollow of her throat and the hard points of her nipple.

“I’ll get my purse.”

The second they stepped into the hotel room, a kernel of unease formed in the back of Lauren’s head. What if this ruined everything? He was her best friend, and if she lost that closeness, she didn’t know what she’d do. Worse, she’d have to watch him—or at least hear about him—and his other women. She had no illusions about Tony and his capacity for commitment, and knew that once he slept with a woman a handful of times, he quickly moved on to the next hot thing.

She was half in love with him and jealous of him as it was. Having sex could only make it worse.

Tony’s dark gaze tracked her patiently, deliberately, as though he had all night to coax her out of her skittishness. She opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony, hoping the sound of the waves and the cool, salty breeze would calm her roiling confusion.

Tony stepped out behind her and she gripped the railing, bracing herself as his big hands settled firmly on her hips. “Don’t be nervous.” His hot, open mouth suckled deliciously at the juncture of her shoulder, awakening nerves that seemed to have a direct line of communication with her pussy.

“I’m afraid this will—” she choked on a gasp as his hand came up to tease the underside of her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. “It will ruin everything, our,” oh God, his thumb was rasping across her nipple, “our friendship.”

“Not if we don’t let it.” He sounded like he was convincing himself as much as he was her. His other hand came up to join the first, and now he was gently kneading and cupping her breasts in his massive palms.

She made one last stab at sanity as her womb clenched and her pussy throbbed and bloomed. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His chuckle was almost menacing. “Can you feel how hard I am?” He ground his granite hard erection against the curve of her ass for emphasis. “I haven’t had a hard-on like this since high school.” The undercurrent of wonder in his voice sent a warm thrill down her spine. His hand slid down her belly, pressing her back against him until his cock snuggled firmly into the curve of her ass. She tilted her head back and he caught her mouth in a wild, tongue-thrusting kiss. The firm, pumping thrust of his tongue sent her inner muscles quivering as she anticipated the similar thrusting of his cock deep inside her.

“And,” he continued, “you want me so much you’re shaking with it, aren’t you? I bet you’re already so wet I could slide in you right now and I haven’t even gotten your dress off.”

Heat flamed in her cheeks as she quivered against him, too embarrassed to answer. No man—not that she had much comparison—had ever talked to her like this. Uneasiness returned as she felt suddenly very out of her league.

If Tony noticed her apprehension, he chose to ignore it. “If you’re not going to answer me, I’ll just have to find out for myself.”

She bit her lip in anticipation as he pushed her skirt up her thigh and slid his fingers into the leg of her lace panties. He pressed his fingers into her creamy slit, groaning in satisfaction. “You’re so hot I can smell it,” he breathed, and she thought she’d die of embarrassment when the rich, briny scent of her arousal hit her nostrils. She struggled to pull away, but he kept her there with the firm pressure of his fingers slowly circling her clit.

Another rush of moisture oozed out, and he spread the creamy wetness generously over her throbbing flesh. “Do you know how many times I thought of touching you like this?” His tongue snaked out and flicked her earlobe as his fingers spread, imprisoning her plump clit from either side.

A strangled sound was her only reply.

To her vast disappointment, his hand slid from her panties. Her dress pulled tight, then loosened as he slid the zipper open to her hips. Impatiently he pushed it down until the fabric puddled around her ankles, and she shivered as the cool night breeze teased her overheated skin.

“Someone might see,” she whispered, pressing back against him and feeling all the more naked as the soft cotton of his shirt and the wool of his trousers rasped against her bare back and thighs.

He stifled her protests with a hard, carnal kiss and hefted the full weight of her breasts in his big hands. Callused thumbs circled and flicked at her nipples, and soon she didn’t care if the whole world watched, as long as he kept touching her. She groaned at the hot slide of his lips and tongue across her shoulders, arched her back as he traced a fiery wet trail down her spine to the small of her back.

“This is better than I ever imagined,” he breathed into the sensitive skin above the lace edge of her panties. “Your skin is smoother, your mouth is sweeter.” He groaned again as he pushed her panties down her hips to join her dress. “And this,” he slid his fingers into her hot core from behind, working one thick finger into her throbbing channel. Between sucking kisses on her thighs and ass cheeks he murmured, “Your pussy is so perfect. Wet and tight…I’m afraid I’m gonna come the second I get inside you.”

Lauren moaned, inching her legs apart, urging him to work that digit even deeper. “I’ve been dreaming of getting inside you for so long I don’t know if I can wait, but there’s something else I’ve been wanting since I first laid eyes on you.”

His finger withdrew and at the urging of his hands on her hips she turned around, hands braced on the wrought iron railing for support. Her mind could barely get itself around the vision they presented: her standing, naked but for her silly little sandals, breasts swollen and achy, legs slightly parted. Him, still fully clothed, kneeling before her with demonic lust radiating from his eyes.

Her legs started to shake, the skin of her belly quivered. Dear God, this was really happening. She was really going to do this. And after tonight nothing would ever be the same.

He leaned in, close enough for her to feel his hot breath parting the neatly trimmed patch of curls. “I know you’re going to taste so good…” His thumbs spread her pussy lips wide and she threw her head back, eyes closing as his lips closed over her clit. “Mmmmm,” his satisfied groan vibrated through her, and a low harsh sound she’d never heard erupted from her throat.