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“I told her you’d matured, and that you have real passion for the project.”
“With a straight face?”
“Yes, with a straight face. Jeez.”
He pulled her into his arms and gave her a long kiss, which was sexy, because he was a sexy kisser, but mainly exuberant, like a killer Doberman confronted with a juicy bone that had been unexpectedly tossed his way. Just like that, she began to melt. And why not? After everything she’d been through, she deserved as much mindless pleasure as she could get.
He curled both hands around her bottom. “Where’s Meg?”
“At a concert. You want a threesome?”
“Not tonight.” He kissed her again. And again. Before long, their hands were all over each other.
He let her go so abruptly she nearly fell. “Chaz! Aaron!” He shot toward the veranda. “Come out here!”
He had to call them twice before they appeared. Aaron had been putting in overtime redesigning her Web site, and a set of Bose headphones hung around his neck. Chaz appeared carrying a brutal-looking chef’s knife. Bram extended a pair of fifty-dollar bills he’d just pulled from his wallet. “You’re both done for the night. Here’s a little bonus for being such loyal employees. Now get out. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Aaron looked at the bills as if he’d never seen money. Chaz unlocked her semipermanent scowl. “I’m in the middle of making dinner.”
“And I know it’ll be delicious for lunch tomorrow.” He took each of them by one arm and nudged them toward the door that opened into the garage, with Chaz protesting the entire time. “At least let me turn off the frickin’ stove before you burn down the house!”
“I’ll handle it.” When Chaz and Aaron were gone, he came after Georgie. Within seconds, he’d locked them in the house. After a quick detour to turn off the stove, they reached the bedroom. His urgency thrilled her, so she frowned at him.
“Don’t you think that was a little…rash?”
“No.” He locked the bedroom door. “Take off your clothes.”
Chapter 15
Don’t make me ask twice,” Bram said when she didn’t react quickly enough.
His air of sexy menace sent a new frenzy of desire rushing through her. This was so blissfully uncomplicated. All he cared about was getting laid, and that was all she cared about, too. Her head was finally screwed on straight enough to enjoy every illicit moment.
“You’re on.” She pulled her top over her head. “Knock yourself out.”
He gazed at her breasts cupped in pale yellow lace, and the way he looked at her filled her with pleasure. She loved feeling desired, never mind that she was merely a convenience.
He snared her wrist. “This time I want a bed. So I can see every inch of you.”
She nearly dissolved, right there in the middle of his bedroom. As she gazed into his smoky lavender eyes, she reminded herself she didn’t care enough about him to ever be hurt. Then he kissed her, and she stopped thinking at all.
This time there was no slow striptease. They threw aside their clothes and fell on each other. Until yesterday, she’d never given herself without love, but now she offered up her body with abandon. He explored every inch, opening her legs, propping one of her ankles on his shoulder. She teased and tormented him in return, not to turn him on, but because she wanted to, because this affair was about her pleasure and not about trying to hold on to a man who didn’t love her.
He was earthy. Thorough. Demanding. Using his fingers, his mouth, his sex. She experienced a blissful, soaring freedom. The final explosion was cataclysmic.
Afterward, she lay limp beneath him, so drained sh
e could barely muster the words. “Oh, well…I’m sure the next time will be better.”
He rolled over on his back, his skin as damp as hers, his mouth curling in a lazy smile. “Let’s face it, you’re a lot of woman for one man to handle.”
She grinned. The air-conditioning kicked on, blowing a cool breeze across their hot bodies. She felt…
She struggled to put a name to her emotions and finally came up with one.
She felt happy.
Bram was the only guy who’d ever been in Chaz’s apartment, but now Aaron was sitting on her couch, his headphones still around his neck, the jack dangling by his knee. He wore farmer jeans and a wrinkled green T-shirt that said all your base are belong to us, which made no frickin’ sense. His curly hair exploded around his round face, and his glasses were crooked. “You can’t stay here,” Chaz said. “You have to leave.”
