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Nothing.
Downstairs the front door opened and closed. Justin swore under his breath. Candy must have left without saying goodbye, which irritated him even more than not being able to find something he always kept in the same place. Where was that flash drive? It held copies of all the chapters he was working on, and of all his notes. God forbid his laptop crashed without a current backup.
Footsteps sounded, coming up the stairs. Troy must be wondering what was taking him so long.
“I can’t find the damn thing.”
“Find
what?”
Candy. Candy’s voice. Justin whipped around to stare at his empty doorway. Now that his brain was focused outside the room, yes, the footsteps sounded too light to be Troy’s, too tappy to be coming from a man’s shoes.
Troy had left without goodbye? Without the flash drive he knew Justin was upstairs getting for him? Without staying to report on his impressions of Candy vis-à-vis Milwaukeedates.com?
She walked into his room, and he saw immediately that the light tapping footsteps were caused by the same sexy, high-heeled black ankle boots she’d worn the first time he saw her across the street. With the same leg-enhancing sheer black stockings. But instead of the same black miniskirt, today she wore—
He swallowed convulsively. No skirt at all. No panties either. A red lace garter, a red lace bra trimmed in black, and a red-lipped sultry smile.
“Candy.”
“As sweet as.” She put her foot up on his bed, heel sharp on his navy quilt, calf curving up from the boot to her knee, then diving down again on the slope of her inner thigh, ending front and center at the soft pink crevice framed by dark curls that grabbed and held his eyes hostage. “Want a taste?”
His cock reacted at the same time his brain registered something wasn’t quite right about this scenario. First the missing drive, Troy leaving without goodbye, Candy in shoes she hadn’t been wearing earlier…
“Yes.” He barely managed to get the word out. The jeans he’d had on for the party were gone; he had on something he’d never own in a million years: a black satin jockstrap whose material was soft on his balls and shamelessly stretched by his erection. His shirt had disappeared, too. He didn’t remember taking anything off.
“Oh, that is much better,” Candy whispered. “Much better.
Come here.”
What was happening? Was she a witch? She’d certainly bewitched him. He walked toward her, not feeling as stupid as he should in an outfit straight from a porn catalog.
“Closer. Closer. There. Now kneel.”
He knelt, face an inch from her sex, warm and sweetly fragrant, smelling of woman and roses. She was so beautiful. He opened his mouth to tell her, but she thrust her hips forward, and instead he was inhaling, then tasting, then devouring her 104
sweetness, reacting to her gasps and moans, wanting her to come more than he wanted to himself, even knowing if she came apart in his mouth he’d lose control and probably topple her onto the bed whether she wanted him to or not.
“Oh.
Oh.”
He loved her pleasure, loved the helpless syllables, loved that he was driving her crazy.
Without noise or preamble, two more long, black-stockinged legs appeared in his peripheral vision. Another garter belt, this one black, a firm slender stomach oddly familiar, a black lace bra filled to overflowing with olive-skinned breasts he knew intimately.
Angie. How did she—
“Hi there.” Angie murmured the words into Candy’s neck, lips leaving lipstick bites on her fair skin. Red-tipped fingers brushed over the lace of Candy’s bra, settled, stroked back and forth, then slid inside and cupped the fullness of her breast, making Candy cry out and throw her head back, hair a cascading waterfall.
Then it was Angie who tumbled Candy to the bed, took over where Justin had been. Angie who made Candy come with spasms that practically rocked the house. Angie, who afterward looked back over her shoulder with vicious triumph and laughed, like the bad guy in a bad movie, at Justin, kneeling with the silly satin stretched absurdly out from his body.
Worse, when he shot indignantly to his feet, her hilarity increased; he followed her gaze to discover he was wearing yellow-and-brown argyle knee socks.
