Wicked (2 page)

suit, crisp navy blue tie and polished shoes, Karl Dawson had an edge to

him.

Maybe it was the scar running through his eyebrow, or the hint of ink she saw

on his neck when he turned his head and his hair shifted. Then again, it could

just be the look in his dark-chocolate-colored eyes—the look of a man who

knew his way around a woman's body.

"I promise I won't hurt you," she said when he didn't reply to her taunt about the lessons. "Just show me your laptop and we can get started."

"Sweetheart, you couldn't hurt me if you tried," he said as he opened up his laptop.

Oh, you might be surprised,
Lara thought with a hidden smile. But instead of saying so, she winked and played a little more. "Is that an invitation?"

Dark eyes flashing, he held out his hands, palms up, and flashed her a cocky

grin. When he didn't say anything further Lara sauntered around the desk to

stand beside his chair. Their eyes met and a tingle zinged through her.

So tempting to just straddle his lap and plant a big kiss on him. Just to see his

reaction. Well, and to enjoy it too, because there was no doubt in her mind

that she'd enjoy kissing him.

A small smile graced her lips and she turned to the laptop, bent at the waist,

and started tapping out commands without another word. The silence

stretched and the tension built. Lara's blood heated and she shifted her

stance, arching her back a bit more and locking her knees as she bent over

the desk.

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If they'd met at another time in another place, she was sure they'd have a hell

of a good time for a few hours. But he was her friend's boss, and that could

make things awkward when she wanted to walk away—and she was always

the one to walk away—so it wasn't going to happen. Which meant she had to

keep her hormones in check.

The heat of him next to her as she worked was distracting. She worked

faster, keeping her eyes on the computer, but she couldn't help flirting with

the fire just a little bit by shifting her weight so that her hip brushed against

his shoulder, then away again.

Karl's chair shifted back a little and she felt his eyes on the tribal tattoo on the

small of her back, her ass, her legs. The desire to be touched, to

connect—just for a short time—awakened inside her and she closed her

eyes briefly.

This was not good. Not good at all. She needed to get out of there. Her lunch

break was almost over and she had her own job to get back to.

Yeah, that was it. Work.

She gave herself a mental head slap and straightened up.

"Okay, look at this," she called him forward. "It's obvious you're familiar with the Internet and email, which means you also know that it's not always

reliable. With the dedicated server you can store all your files on here and

they can be accessed by anyone with the passwords."

All business, Lara went on to explain what the passwords were, and how he

could change them to his own. How he could make certain areas accessible

only to him, and leave others open to Graham and anyone else he needed to

share information with. She showed him the new programs she'd installed at

Graham's request, all the files they'd already transferred, and showed him

how to work the system, as well as the advantages of the wireless

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connection.

"Got it?" she asked.

"You were right," he nodded. "These changes will make things a bit easier.

Thank you."

She chuckled. "Try not to choke on the words."

"Hey, it doesn't happen often, so when it does, I don't mind admitting I was

wrong."

She perched her butt on the edge of his desk and leaned back on her hands.

The posture thrust her breasts forward, and the air sizzled between them as

his gaze swept over her. "A little arrogant, aren't you?"

"Not arrogant." He grinned wickedly. "Confident."

Her mouth ran away without her brain again. "It's been my experience that

men as
confident
as you are often overcompensating for something. What

do you think about that?"

"I think you haven't experienced me."

An unladylike bark of laughter jumped from her lips. "Oh ho! Is that a

challenge?"

His eyes darkened and his smile became almost predatory. "Maybe it's a

warning."

Lara's heart pumped faster and blood raced through her veins. Suddenly she

was feeling very
alive.

She pushed away from the desk and started for the door. "Too bad. I've

always been a sucker for a challenge." Her hand was on the doorknob when

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his next softly spoken words halted her in her steps.

"But a warning scares you off?"

Now
that
was a challenge.

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2

S
he should've ignored it.

Lara's instincts told her Karl Dawson was trouble, but he was the type of

trouble she just could not resist. Even as her gut had told her to forget it,

she'd turned back to meet his mocking gaze. Now, six hours later, she was

putting on mascara and debating if she wanted to wear panties or not.

The night was going to end with sex, there was no doubt in her mind about

that. But it was all she'd let happen. She wasn't shy about her body's needs,

and there was no denying the chemistry between them, but it wouldn't last.

It never did.

"I can't believe you're going out with Graham's boss," Peter said from his

perch on her bed.

Peter was a full-time writer and Graham's lover. He owned the small house

they all lived in. Situated on the now-trendy Commercial Drive near

downtown, it was his family's home. He'd inherited it when his parents retired

to the island, and it was the perfect location for her because it was a quick

drive to work, and the drive had many restaurants and a few pubs popping

up.

The two men lived upstairs in the main part of the house while Lara rented

the basement apartment and banked every cent she could so that someday

soon she'd be able to buy her own house.

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It didn't need to be a big one, but she wanted something that was all hers.

Something no one could ever take away from her.

"He seemed okay with it," she said with a shrug. Not that it mattered.

Even though her place was technically separate, the guys had made it a

point to become friends with her since she'd moved in just over a year ago.

Now they acted like roommates, watching movies and eating together

occasionally, as well as nosing into each other's lives. Or trying to, anyway.

The guys shared everything with her, sometimes oversharing, but she kept

her secrets. They thought they knew her pretty well, but out of necessity Lara

had learned to be a good actress at a very young age.

"We're not enough for you, huh?"

She arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Maybe if I ever got more out of you

than a kiss and a cuddle, but as it stands—no."

Peter met her gaze in the mirror. "All you need to do is say the word."

She tensed. "And how would Graham feel about that?"

His full lips lifted on one side and a dimple appeared in his stubbled cheek.

"He probably wouldn't like it as much as I would."

That was an understatement, and they both knew it. While Peter was openly

bisexual, Graham wasn't. He was also in love with Peter.

Every now and then the sexual tension would grow between her and Peter,

and Lara knew that if it weren't for Graham they'd have a good time between

the sheets. But until Graham was either out of the picture, or invited her into

their bed himself, she was staying out of their domestic situation.

"Which is why it's best I find my entertainment elsewhere," Lara said with a 19

Sasha White

wink. "Now fuck off so I can get dressed. I'm meeting him in half an hour and

I need some peace before I leave."

Peter left and Lara dressed quickly. She did wear panties under her short

flirty skirt, but decided against a bra to go under the black satin camisole she

chose to go with it. When she wore a bra, she filled a B-cup perfectly, so one

wasn't always necessary, and she liked the touch of the smooth fabric

against her bare skin.

After a last once over in the mirror, she grabbed her purse and headed out.

Lara didn't spend a lot of time on her looks. It wasn't because she didn't need

to—although thanks to good genetics she really didn't—it was because she

knew there was more to her than the way she looked.

Besides that, being pretty wasn't always what it was cracked up to be, it had

brought her more grief than happiness. When she was fifteen, a drunken

friend of her father's didn't want to take no for an answer. He'd pinned her to

the floor and tried to rape her while her father was passed out on the couch.

All because she was such a "pretty girl."

She'd cracked his head open with a crystal ashtray, before taking off on her

own for good. And she never looked back.

Then she'd learned how to use her looks to her advantage. Men never

thought women were good at pool, or darts, or cards, and they certainly

didn't concentrate well when the woman flirted and flashed a little cleavage.

Her looks had helped her survive on her own, but it was her mind that had

taught her how, and when, to use them.

She climbed into her little Honda hatchback and set out for the restaurant

Karl had named. The car wasn't fancy, but it was hers, bought and paid for,

and she was proud of it. Karl had wanted to pick her up for their date, but

she'd nixed that idea fast. She wanted to keep things casual.

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* * *

F
rom behind the closed blinds of his bedroom window, Peter watched

Lara get into her car with mixed feelings. Why he was even paying attention

he wasn't sure. It's not like she never went out, or like she never brought men

home. He knew she did both on a pretty regular basis. But he'd sensed

something while she was getting ready, something new..

She was excited about Graham's boss.

"I'm home." Graham's call from the kitchen was clear. "And I brought sushi for dinner."

Peter scrubbed a hand through his hair and headed for the kitchen. "Great,

I'm starved."

"I passed Lara just up the road," Graham said as he unpacked the food.

"She's meeting my boss for dinner. How weird is that?"

"Not so weird. Most men want Lara when they see her."

"I don't."

He pulled a couple of plates from the cupboard and carried them to the table.

"If she was willing to wear a strap-on you wouldn't hesitate to bend over for

her."

"Petie!"

Peter turned to smile at his lover. "What? It's true and you know it."

Graham sidled up close to him, putting a hand on his back and stroking it up

and down. "I'm with you, I don't need anyone else to make me happy."

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Peter knew that was supposed to make him feel good, but it didn't. He loved

Graham, but he also loved the feel of a woman every now and then. "What if

I need someone else every now and then to satisfy me?"

Graham froze, and then pulled his hand away slowly. "You're not happy with

me?"

"No, baby. I am happy with you!" Peter's gut clenched at look on Graham's

face. "I love you."

Graham folded his arms across his chest, color creeping over his cheeks as

he cocked a hip. "Then what exactly are you trying to say?"

"You know I'm bi—you've always known. Sometimes I just crave the feel of a

woman beneath me. I admit I've thought of inviting Lara to join us sometime."

Graham's brow furrowed and his bottom lip thrust out. "I thought you gave

women up."

"I don't know that I'll ever give them up completely." He reached out and

cupped a hand at the back of Graham's neck and pulled him close for a kiss.

"But I'll always want you."

* * *

I
t didn't take her long to find the right place. The little Italian restaurant was buried between a print shop and a new age retail store, and she was

even on time.

"Not what I was expecting," she said as joined her dinner partner.

He was eye-catching, even dressed to blend with the crowd in dark slacks

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and a button-up shirt. Her eyes had gone straight to him at the small table

along the far wall the minute she'd stepped through the door. Maybe it was

the curls. The dark blond looked soft and enticing. The urge to reach out and

touch was strong.

He gave a small smile when she was settled in her seat. "You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that." She looked around the place—red and white checked

tablecloths, candles in each centerpiece, and the dark-skinned couple at the

kitchen doorway arguing passionately made the atmosphere homey, yet still

intimate. "It's just not what I expected."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," he said with a rough chuckle.

Lara met his laughing brown eyes and grinned, relaxing a little. "It was meant

as one. Predictability is boring."

Karl was intrigued. "Do you think it's really as simple as that? Keep things

unpredictable and life won't be boring?"