Girl Gear 1: All Tied Up (11 page)

His kiss was the kiss of a starving man deprived. His tongue mated with hers, giving her the pleasure she wanted to take. With her hands caught between their bodies, she measured the beat of his heart with her palm. His breathing came hard and heavy, and warmed her skin, still cool from the shower and the water in her hair.

His mouth on hers, Leo reached for her hand and drew her fingers down his body to wrap around his erection. He kept his hand over hers, used the fluid he released to ease the stroke as he thrust in and out of her hold.

Macy wanted to lift her leg, make him ease the ache between her thighs. So she moved her hand, moved her mouth and shoved him down to the edge of the bed. All he did was raise a brow and sit right where she wanted him, his weight braced on his elbows as he spread his legs and leaned back.

She couldn’t help but lick her lips. He was a delicious feast and hers to devour. She knelt between his legs, her chill forgotten once she encountered the intimate heat of his body. With her hands spreading his thighs wide-open, she moved in and nuzzled the sac beneath his full penis.

Leo shuddered. She lifted her eyes, locked her gaze with his and took him in her mouth. His nostrils flared. He pulsed against her tongue. Macy smiled, moving her lips in a stroke to imitate the earlier motion of her hand.

She watched his face, judged her success by the fire in his eyes, his grimace, the rapid rise and fall of his
chest. With the palm of one hand pressed flat to his belly above his shaft, her thumb beneath the solid base, she wrapped her other hand around his length, leaving her lips free to work the swollen head.

She sucked hard, drawing her tongue up the underside and her upper lip over the top. She repeated the process, stroking, sucking, using the moisture of her mouth and his release of clear fluid, until Leo tossed his head back and roared.

He scooted back out of her reach. She followed him up onto the bed, crawling over his body, shuddering as his erection strained against her belly. She lifted her hips to take him. She was so very ready to take him.

But he hooked his leg over her hips and flipped her onto her back. He silenced her “Oomph” with another demanding kiss.

Macy tried to work her legs free, but he’d caught her fast. She shivered and submitted, unbearably aroused by her inability to move. Leo lifted his hips, but only enough to slip one hand down her belly and into the crevice at the apex of her thighs.

She whimpered at his touch, at the contact with her clit. But she was captured and couldn’t move to show him how to use his thumb to pull back that hood of skin and how to take a fingertip and lightly brush the edges of that knot of nerves and how to open her wide with the rest of his hand.

And if he didn’t stop what he was doing she was going to come all over the place when she wanted to come to the stroke of his tongue while his fingers played intimately with her sex.

She pulled her mouth from beneath his to tell him that it was her turn, that she was not going to take this bossy business lying down. Though she was, and she was lov
ing it. But she didn’t get out a word because Leo used the break from her mouth to order, “Turn over.”

She had no spine, so she flipped as he’d ordered. And when he tucked a pillow beneath her belly, hiking her backside up into the air, she didn’t even think to say no.

He knelt behind her, and Macy anchored her fingers over the side of the mattress, aroused and certain Leo had caught the scent. With her heartbeat rattling her whole chest, from her ribs to her throat, Macy waited.

Leo settled his weight, pressed his thighs to hers and leaned forward. She held her breath. He placed a hand in the small of her back…placed the dual vibrating heads of Lauren’s back massager right below.

The sensation sent Macy’s eyes rolling up into her head. She audibly groaned into the sheet as the rumble of the massager shook her bones. Oh, she couldn’t believe this was happening. Sex had never been this way before.

Leo moved his hand to the base of her neck, her nape a starting point for his erotic massage. He drew the massager slowly down her spine. Macy melted into the mattress, her cheek, her shoulders, her breasts humming, her belly pressed into the pillow and humming, too.

But it was her backside, raised and waiting, that took the full brunt of the electrically charged shudder, Leo now sweeping the massage heads over her derriere and down one thigh, to the pit of her knee, the sole of her foot, her toes.

He reversed direction on the other leg, and once he reached the crease where thigh met buttock, he lowered the speed to a tempered buzz, settled the head on her bottom and left it there.

Macy tensed, waited, totally disconnected from everything but the heat of Leo’s body behind her and the
unbearable edge of excitement cutting off her ability to breathe.

Leo shifted, his erection probing between her legs, where a finger spread her wetness. She was beyond aroused. She ached, she burned, she hurt with the pleasure of his touch.

And then Leo inserted a finger and her world came to an end. It was too much to take, the vibrations skittering over her network of nerves and now the invasion, the finger he used to explore, pressing downward, pulling up and into her center.

She couldn’t stand the wait, the anticipation, her body shifting and swelling and wanting. And then he moved his finger to her clit, moved the massager down so that his touch was an extension. And just when she wasn’t sure she’d live to find her release, he slid his sheathed cock into her body.

The sound she unleashed was wild and untamed. Her body burned with Leo’s every thrust. She felt the vibrations on her backside, in his finger and his cock. It was all too much and she let go, crying out as she came, shuddering over and over again until she knew nothing but the way he filled her.

Leo tossed the appliance aside, grabbed Macy by both hips and drove into her, his rhythm fast and furious, and then he peaked, shuddering, growling from a place so deep Macy felt the hum where he joined her body.

Once finished, he didn’t move or withdraw, almost as if the connection they’d shared was far too painful to break. But that was her imagination talking. Or a case of wishful thinking.

This was all about sex. It had to be. There was no other sane way to look at what they’d done. They hadn’t talked about a relationship. They hadn’t even talked
about attraction. They’d just screwed each other’s brains out.

Physically, Macy was replete. But her soul remained disappointingly unfulfilled.

L
EO WASN’T REALLY
a party guy. He attended
functions.
Business dinners. Fund-raisers. Receptions. Soirees. Rarely did he make an appearance without an agenda. Never did he volunteer his involvement without the guarantee of a return.

And then came Macy’s monthly game night. Which proved the folly of active participation. Look what that lapse had gotten him. Moving from a perfectly suitable extended-stay suite into the midst of madness.

He’d never been late to court in his life. But yesterday morning he’d barely managed to drop his butt in his seat before the bailiff called, “All rise.”

He’d spent as much of the past two days at the office as he could find work to fill. With his current caseload, if he’d wanted, he could’ve spent the night. Sleeping on the sofa in his office wouldn’t be anything new. And there was the law firm’s efficiency apartment to consider.

But last night, he’d returned home, wanting simply to hear Macy breathe. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to listen. He’d only briefly thought about wanting to get her naked. But then he’d seen her sleeping, and acting on the thought hadn’t even been a consideration.

The door to her rooms had stood open. In the four days he’d lived there, he hadn’t once ventured to her private corner of the loft. Personal space and privacy had
been part of their agreement. She’d been the first to break the bargain when she’d interrupted his shower.

If he’d found her in bed wearing lace and black silk, sleeping on satin sheets, or if her blankets had been kicked to the bottom of the bed and she’d been lying there wearing nothing but her wild-child tattoo, he’d have been more inclined to strip out of his clothes.

As it was, he could only stand and stare.

The room was aglow in nightlights. One plugged into every outlet. Others burning low in the trio of lamps marking off three corners of her room. Each lamp spun on a solid base, its shade casting liquid shadows of sea life from the floor up the walls to the ceiling.

The ceiling was what struck the blow to knock him off balance. The blue-and-green-toned mural stretched corner to corner, with every undersea creature imaginable looking down on Macy as she slept. This was a child’s room, not one where a man would make love to a woman.

Yet the woman curled in the center of the queen-size bed could flash him a look with her whiskey-wise eyes and he’d have a hard-on to hammer nails. Either she was a witch or he was sick. And since he didn’t like either option, he’d turned and left the room.

He’d fared no better at his end of the loft. He’d been too wound up for sleep, and standing in the shower underneath the warm spray, all he could think about was taking her up against the wall.

He didn’t know if he’d ever had sex explode the way it had with Macy. He’d had it in the heat and the spur of the moment, unexpected, hot and fast. But never had it been that blast of fire and passion.

Her body, when bared, had been as slim as he’d expected, but feminine and belonging to a woman, not a
child. As much as he enjoyed indulging his fetish for the rich and the lush, Macy had offered him more. Her hunger and her honesty had no parallel in his experience. And that had the whole of his gut tied up in knots.

So now, twenty-four hours later, he found himself at Lauren and Anton’s housewarming, no closer to figuring out where he and Macy stood or where they were going…if anywhere.

Standing at the second-floor railing in the home Anton had made of a warehouse, Leo looked down to where Macy huddled with Lauren in the main room’s office corner to review her new logo concept and design.

She’d arrived only a few minutes ago, while he’d been upstairs on the second-floor tour. Lauren had pulled Macy aside immediately, giving Leo a few minutes to reconcile last night’s girl in hot-pink pajamas with the woman showing off sexy shoulders in a top that was nothing but two handkerchiefs held up by a band of velvet encircling her neck.

The fabric was glistening and black, with a rose of muted reds and pinks centered over her chest. The skirt was red and knee-length, with a flippy sort of hem, and even her shoes matched: the barest of sandals with narrow straps of black and pink and red.

It was a damn sexy outfit.

And she was a damn sexy woman.

And he hoped like hell to get moved into his condo before she had him on her balcony howling at the moon.

H
IP PERCHED ON THE CORNER
of Lauren’s desk, Macy studied her new logo. Both the black, lace-fringed web and the Gen-X girl spider Lauren had designed were to die for.

The spider’s legs were overly long and jointed, and
all eight feet sported funky high-tops in a combination of gIRL-gEAR’s lime-green-and-orange color scheme. A broad-brimmed painter’s cap in hot pink and bright yellow sat at an angle behind eyes twice the size of the spider’s head.

It was absolutely perfect. Macy laid her cheek on Lauren’s shoulder. “Oh, Lauren. This is so incredibly cool.”

“I’m not sure it’s all that.” Lauren clicked the computer file closed, shut down the graphics program and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear instead of into the ponytail caught low on her nape. “But I’m glad you like it.”

Uh-oh. This wasn’t the Lauren Macy knew. Down in the dumps
and
wearing a plain Jane barrette that was
not
a gADGET gIRL accessory? Macy drew her best friend around the end of the desk and into the corner where French doors opened onto a courtyard.

She nudged the door part of the way closed, shutting out the chatter of the party that was, by now, well under way. “Are you okay? You’re wearing an awfully big party-pooper face. And it’s your party you’re pooping on.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.” Lauren worked hard for the smile she finally produced, lifting her face to the cool night air. “Work was a bitch this week.”

“Because of my logo?”

“No,” she said, and shook her head. “A problem with copyrighted images being lifted from our Web site. Sydney took care of it.”

“Then why do
you
look so stressed?” Macy’s hands went to her hips. “And why didn’t you call me to help with the party?”

“Anton helped.” Moving back inside, Lauren shuf
fled through a stack of envelopes she lifted from the desk. “At least he helped when we weren’t fighting.”

Dare Macy ask if the scavenger hunt was to blame? “Don’t tell me you’re fighting over the toilet seat being left up. Or squeezing the toothpaste from the wrong end of the tube.”

Lauren’s smile came more naturally this time. “
That
I think I could handle. It’s nothing, really. I fell in love with a control freak and I’ll learn to live with it. If not, I’ll get counseling.”

Macy grabbed at the envelopes—an obvious distraction—and slapped them back on the desk. “You say that way too much like you meant it.”

“Which part? The learning to live with it or the counseling?”

“Both. Either. You know if you get all stupid on me, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”

At that, Lauren did laugh. “Wouldn’t that be breaking all your best-friend rules?”

“My prerogative as the rule maker,” Macy said, following Lauren’s suddenly distracted gaze to the second-floor landing where, next to Anton Neville, stood Leo Redding.

Both women sighed, the release of appreciative breath a more eloquent expression than words. Anton and Leo were close to the same height, the former no more than an inch taller. In build they were near mirror images as well, with Leo only slightly broader and Anton the perfect definition of surfer lean.

Lauren leaned over to whisper into Macy’s ear. “You realize, don’t you, that from my artistic perspective, that’s an amazing exhibition. Well worth the price of admission.”

“And here I was trying to put what I’m witnessing into words. Editorial being my specialty and all.”

But now that she’d taken in the whole picture, Macy only had eyes for Leo. He had on dark khaki slacks, leather deck shoes and a black linen shirt worn loose.

His casual look was more put together than her own paltry professional wardrobe. Imagining them as a couple required a huge stretch. They sure didn’t fit together like peas and carrots, like peanut butter and jelly, like…Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. Macy shivered. If anything, they fit together like a round hole and a square peg. Except Leo’s peg wasn’t square. Leo’s peg wasn’t even a peg. More like a…

Sensing Lauren’s probing stare, Macy pulled her gaze from the landing and turned it on her best friend. “What?”

Lauren’s eyes cut from Macy to the second floor and back again. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear I wasn’t the only one mooning like a lovesick puppy here.”

“I’m surprised you’d admit to mooning or being lovesick.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Did you ask a question?”

“What’s going on between you and Leo?”

“Not much.” Macy shrugged. Lauren would dig out the truth whether Macy went for subtle or explosive. She decided to drop the bomb. “We played Spin the Webb and he kissed me. We’re paired up for the scavenger hunt. He moved into the loft.”

“What?” Lauren shrieked and a dozen heads turned. She took hold of Macy’s arm and propelled her across the main room and into the kitchen, where she imme
diately pounced. “And just when were you planning to share this wealth of good news?”

“I never said it was good news.”

“You didn’t have to say anything. I can put two and two together.”

“What two and two?”

Arms crossed, Lauren looked Macy up and down. And up and down. “What you may not have said in so many words, you have screamed with that outfit. Macy Webb? Wearing the latest in gROWL gIRL party wear? Give me a break.”

Macy knew she should’ve stuck to her usual party wear of clogs and capris. Or stuck to her pajamas. “What? All I’m trying to do here is give my wardrobe a little oomph.”

“Hello? This is me, Lauren.”

“I know who you are.”

“Then let’s be honest. It’s not your wardrobe you’re looking to oomph, is it? Not that I wouldn’t be the first in line to take you shopping if that were really the case.”

“Oh? And that line would be how long?” As if she needed to hear Lauren’s insults on top of Lauren’s prying.

One hand had moved to Lauren’s hip. She used the second to gesture the length of Macy’s body. “C’mon, Macy. You may have a thing for gROWL gIRL’s lingerie, but that’s about it. You wear pajamas like most people wear blue jeans. Or business suits. Or even formal wear.”

“They were Oriental silk and they were the dressiest thing I had and I only did it one time.” Macy stopped her rant to push her hair back from her face. Nothing she said in self-defense would throw Lauren off track.

As predicted, her friend chugged right along. “Paja
mas are made for sleeping. Which is why most people only wear them after dark. When they go to bed.”

“Yes, but most people have to leave the house to go to work. I have the luxury of working from home.”

“What about Leo?”

“He does the biggest part of his work at the office.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then say what you mean.”

Lauren’s eyes threatened to pop from frustration. “Do you wear pajamas when he’s around? Or is what you wear more revealing?”

“Like what?”

“Like your bare skin?”

Macy’s earlobes steamed. “What kind of question is that?”

Lauren glared. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“Sleeping with Leo Redding? You’re kidding, right?” Showering, yes. Sleeping, no.

“Okay then. Not sleeping. Are you having sex with him?”

So much for evasive semantics. “No. I’m standing here in the kitchen talking to you.”

“Have you
had
sex with him?”

Macy took too long to come up with an answer. Her body still tingled from what she’d done with Leo thirty-six hours ago. Thirty-six hours. Had it really been that long?

It seemed like only minutes since they’d tumbled wet and naked into bed, not bothering with the towel Leo had pulled from the linen closet, but letting skin and satin sheets make quick work of the water. Neither had said a word, but had let hands and mouths run wild.

That second time in bed—that wild unreality of sweet hot sex and reckless abandon—had been as fast and fu
rious as the one in the shower, and Macy couldn’t help wonder if it had been a long time for Leo, or if she’d whet his appetite that fiercely.

“I knew it. You
are
sleeping with him.” Lauren’s stage whisper had enough volume to be heard over the salsa music setting the festive party tone in the main room.

Macy shushed her best friend. “I am not having sex with him. I had sex with him. It was a loss-of-consciousness sort of encounter. We didn’t plan it and I sure don’t intend to let it happen again.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?” A question Macy was still trying to answer for herself.

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t any good. You can look at the way the man walks and tell he knows how to move in bed.”

“We weren’t exactly in bed.” And the amazingly intimate way Leo moved would remain her secret. “At least that first time in the shower.”

“Oh, and so now the story changes.” Palms held flat like the scales of Justice, Lauren weighed Macy’s answer. “From not sleeping with him to keeping count of the number of times.”

“Two times, Lauren. Two.” Macy held up two fingers. “That’s all. One right after the other.”

Lauren’s expression conveyed her respect for Leo’s stamina. “Nice. When?”

“Not that it’s any of your business. But…” Macy searched Lauren’s face, finding not a hint of disapproval, but only a best friend’s interest.

And, okay, a best friend’s prurient nosiness.

“But?” Lauren prompted with both the question and the encouraging flutter of fingers.

“But…oh, Lauren.” Macy buried her face in her hands. “I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before.”

With a long sigh and a shake of her head, Lauren reached into the refrigerator for two fuzzy navel wine coolers. She opened both bottles and handed one to Macy. “Anton’s mixing margaritas and whatever else out in the other room. But this can’t wait. So, spill already. I’m dying here.”