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He frowned, studying the blond curls that spilled down her back. Unrestrained and free, just like her. The exact opposite of him.
Had she really wanted him before they’d tripped into this crazy pseudo-affair? Though there was nothing pseudo about the sex part of their arrangement. The lust between them was very real. And she’d been all too eager to claim at dinner that she’d never noticed him before a few weeks ago. More pretending?
He encircled her waist with his arms. Holding her this way made her seem impossibly fragile. Almost breakable. “Since when?”
“I like this one.” She traced her nail along the edge of a heart-shaped frame that held a picture of the boys at Dillon’s high school graduation. Dillon had a fauxhawk tipped in black for the occasion, and Cory looked suitably chagrined at his side. They’d both been in that awkward stage between boy and manhood, all gangly arms and legs.
Not that anyone could tell with Dillon. He was grinning broadly and had his arm around his brother’s shoulders. He’d always loved the spotlight. Cory, on the other hand, looked ready to make his escape. Some things never changed.
“I asked you a question.” He pulled her back against him so that the unmistakable hardness between his legs brushed her tight, firm ass. An image of those pale swells reddened from his mouth filled his mind and he released a long breath. “How long have you wanted me?”
“What makes you think I meant you?”
“Now, Victoria.”
She turned to face him, still clutching his picture. “Ninth grade.”
“What?”
She shrugged jerkily and set the photo aside. “Now you know.”
“But you hate me,” he mumbled, amazed he could speak at all. If she’d hauled off and punched him in the gut, he couldn’t have been more surprised. Or hurt.
Why hadn’t she ever told him? They’d wasted so much time—
Wait. Hold up. Wasting time indicated that another outcome had been possible. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t be.
Her broken, brittle laugh cut him straight to the bone. “Let’s amend that. You hate me. Besides, you couldn’t see me after you’d been confronted with all of Melly’s tall, sleek lusciousness first. Don’t you remember that school dance where you mooned over her all night?”
Actually, he didn’t. High school in general wasn’t a place he liked to mentally revisit. And school dances? Worst of the worst. Instead of getting laid at prom, he’d acted as a bookie for some of the other students. They’d heard about his golden touch with the horses, and his chances for post-dance sex had gone downhill after that.
She leaned up to circle his neck with her arms. “But I bet you’re not thinking of how perfect Melinda is for you now, are you?”
He wasn’t thinking about anything but getting her naked. And that wasn’t so much a thought as a primal command in his blood. “Melinda who?”
Her laughter burst across his cheek, as frothy as ripples in the surf. “You know what I’d really like to see?”
“The twin bed I used to plot world domination in?” He tugged on a corkscrew curl. “Because I sure wouldn’t mind putting some of your yoga skills to work so we could make use of it.”
More laughter, softer now as she drew back. “No. The barn.”
“The barn? It’s dark and foggy out. There’s a threat of rain.”
Eyes dancing with mirth, she tapped her fingers against her mouth and swiveled back to the china cabinet. “Never mind. I’d hate to get all…wet.”
“Hold it.” He snagged her arm and pressed close to her back. He’d never think to use a building that housed livestock for such a purpose, but he could see the possibilities. “Barn, you say?”
She rubbed against him, sidling up and down as sinuously as a cat. “Uh-huh. Race you there.”
“I don’t race. Women chase after me.”
At her sniff, he grinned. Until she reached under dress and shimmied down the string-bikini panties he’d amused himself with a few minutes before. She drew them off her long legs, allowing him a glimpse of black, lace-topped stockings, and then pressed them into his hand. They were tiny and as red as her dress. And very damp.
He stared at them while she walked to the door.
“Not this woman. You know where to find me, CEO.”
…
