HandsOn (2 page)

“See you at seven, then.”

She nodded and pulled open the door to let him out.

“Oh, and Lara?”

“Yes?”

His gaze strayed to the sofa where her panties dangled over
the edge, then back at her. Heat warmed his eyes, darkened them. “I like
purple.”

Chapter Two

It was obvious she had nothing to wear.

Jeans, sweatpants and pajamas made up the bulk of her wardrobe.
That and pants suits or long skirts for professional appearances or lectures at
the university.

But going out to dinner with a sexy man? No, there didn’t
appear to be anything in her closet to fit that scenario.

Fortunately she had Nancy, whom she’d called in a panic as
soon as Mark left.

Nancy, the one she was going to kill. Later. Right now they
stood in her bedroom with a pile of Nancy’s sexy dresses.

“Dresses? You brought dresses? I don’t wear those, Nance.”

Nancy scrunched her pixie face and frowned. “Tonight you do.
So, tell me about him. Is he gorgeous?”

Lara sighed and fingered the purple silk of a sundress that
seemed to call to her. “Beyond gorgeous. Way out of my league.”

Nancy groaned. “No one’s out of your league, honey.”

“Wanna bet? You know how I am with guys, Nance.”

Lara stepped back from Nancy’s shaking finger. “That’s your
own fault. You have a lot to offer, you just don’t know it. You’re beautiful,
intelligent, have a witty sense of humor and guys look at you all the time.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve never seen guys looking at me. I only see
them looking at you.” And what man wouldn’t? With Nancy’s perfect body, short,
raven hair and stunning blue eyes, what man would notice Lara when the two of
them stood together?

“That’s because you don’t pick up the signals. You know, for
someone who claims to have all this knowledge about the opposite sex, you sure
suck at recognizing a man’s interest.”

“You’re insane, woman. But I love you anyway. Now what am I
supposed to wear to dinner?”

Nancy’s lips curled in an evil grin that always made Lara
wary. “Something hot and sexy.”

“Business dinner, not prelude to a seduction.”

“It could be, if you wanted it to.”

“Forget it, Nance. He’s a reporter, here for a story on that
idiotic masturbation-a-thon you forced me to enter, and then he’s outta here.”

“Oh, but you’re so good at masturbation, Lara. I knew you’d
be a shoo-in to win.”

She couldn’t help it. One glance at Nancy’s innocently
batting eyelashes and Lara burst into laughter. “Gee, thanks. I think. Remind
me not to tell you so much about my personal life anymore.”

Nancy pulled the purple sundress out of the pile and held it
against Lara. “Hey, you’re the sexpert, not me. Can I help it if we’ve known
each other since we were five years old and share every sordid detail about our
personal lives, including sex? Or should I say, the lack of it?”

Smoothing her hand over the sinfully soft material of the
dress, Lara shook her head. “
My
lack of it.
You
get plenty.”

“That’s because I recognize the signals men give off. You’d
get more sex if you pulled your head out of your research and started focusing
on the real thing.”

Real thing? Sex? Bah. No such luck in that department. She’d
already tried and failed miserably.

Besides, she got plenty of sex. It just so happened to be
the do-it-yourself variety. And she was good at it.
Damn
good.

As if being an expert at masturbating was something to be
proud of. How pathetic.

An hour later she was dressed in silk that clung to her body
much too closely. Did it have to be purple? She should have chosen another one.
Mark had said he liked purple, although he had been referring to the panty
incident at the time. She didn’t want him to think she’d worn the purple dress
to impress him.

Not that he’d be impressed anyway, regardless of what she
wore.

Nancy, who’d decided to hang around and get a peek at Mark,
pronounced her sultry.

Lara just felt stupid and overdressed. And Nancy had
insisted she pull her hair up into a clip and let her long curls sail down her
back.

Ugh. She’d feel better having it braided so it wouldn’t
annoy her, but there was no fighting Nancy once she got an idea into her head.

When a knock sounded at the door, Lara’s heart sank into her
stomach.

“Don’t answer it,” she said when Nancy started toward the
front door. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and ignored her. “Coward. You’re
going, so don’t bother trying to hide. I’ll just drag you out here again.”

Nancy graced Mark with her most cheerful smile as she threw
open the door, shook his hand and let him in. “Hey there, you must be Mark. I’m
Nancy, Lara’s best friend.”

“Hey there yourself, Nancy.” Mark grinned.

Still in those jeans that looked as soft as a baby’s
blanket, Mark had changed into a white shirt that showed off his great tan. The
room temperature increased by at least ten degrees and Lara was thankful the
dress she wore was sleeveless.

Always comfortable around men, Nancy engaged Mark in an easy
discussion that made Lara wish she had her friend’s gift for gab.

Oh sure, the two of them hit it off like they were old
friends. Maybe Nancy could go out to dinner with him instead.

“You look great,” he said, finally noticing her standing
there despite her best efforts to blend in with the furniture.

“Thank you.” She cleared the squeak from her throat.

“Well, don’t you two make a charming pair,” Nancy stated,
looking as satisfied as if she’d personally set Lara up on a blind date.

Lara glared at her and turned to Mark. “You ready?”

“Sure. Let’s go. Nice meeting you, Nancy.”

“You too, Mark. Have fun, honey,” she said to Lara as they
approached the door.

“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered to her friend, hugging her.
“You sure you don’t want to come along?”
Please say yes
.

“No way. I’ve got a hot date of my own tonight. Enjoy!”
Nancy winked and slammed the door shut, then hurried to her car while Mark led
her to his.

Hot date, indeed. Mark would be so bored he’d have her back
home in an hour.

She suggested a steak place downtown, which Mark readily
agreed to try. Once seated at a booth in the restaurant, she waited for him to
drag out his laptop or notebook and resume the interview.

“Nice place,” he said.

“Yeah, it is.”
Can I go home now
?

“Do you eat here often?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t get out much.”

He arched a brow. “Why not?”

Because I have no reason to go out, and no one asks me
out anyway
. “Um, too busy with research.”

“Sex research?”

Did he have to grin at her like that? His eyes reflected
heat she was unprepared to handle. “Yes, sex research.”

“Is all your research academic-related, or is there some,
uh, hands-on?”

She spit her tea back into the glass. Not very ladylike at
all. Wondering how long before this so-called interview would be over and she
could go home and hide, she said, “Obviously, there’s some hands-on research.”

“So, that means you date a lot?”

Lara couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Not really.”

“Steady boyfriend then?”

“Sort of.” She smiled behind her glass.

“Does he live around here?”

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Mark shrugged his impressive shoulders. “Just thought we
might throw his name in the article.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“First name only, then?”

“Bob.” Nancy would die when Lara told her what she’d
admitted to Mark.

“Bob’s a lucky guy, then.”

Smooth talker, and as full of it as they came, too.
“Thanks.”

“Does he help you with the research for your books?”

She really should tell him who Bob was, but she couldn’t
bring herself to get any more personal than she already had. “Yes,
extensively.”

“Even luckier, then.”

“So, do you have any more questions for the article?”
In
other words, Mr. Smooth, get your mind out of my gutter and back on your job
.

He knew it too. She could tell by his sly smile.

They spent the rest of dinner talking about her background,
education and books. Subjects Lara took an avid interest in. As opposed to her
social life, which was nonexistent enough to cause a huge stop in conversation.

By the time he’d paid the check, she was more than ready to
head back to her little hovel and hide from the world again.

She couldn’t get out of his car fast enough. Unfortunately,
Mr. Sexy-and-Chivalrous felt compelled to walk her to the door. Really, this
was small-town Pennsylvania, not the streets of New York. She hardly needed an
escort to the front door.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said, rummaging through her
purse for her keys and trying to avoid looking at him. As it was, his image
would remain in her memory banks long after he was gone.

She couldn’t wait to get inside and do what she’d thought
about doing with him all night long. Too bad he wouldn’t be there for it.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for agreeing to the interview.”

Clearly he wasn’t going to go away until she looked at him.
She turned, smiled and held out her hand. “Nice meeting you, Mark.”

He tilted his head to the side and looked a bit confused.
Then he leaned in, his face inches away from hers.

Oh no. Oh hell no! He wasn’t going to do that, was he?
Surely not. She wasn’t his type at all. He was hot and sexy and she was just
plain frumpy. She fought back panic as her thoughts ran rampant. His breath
sailed across her cheek as he bent his head toward hers.

Then he shocked the hell out of her by brushing his lips
against hers. His soft mouth teased and tormented.

Her toes curled, her heart pounded so loud she was certain
he could hear it thumping against her ribs. This kind of thing never happened
to women like her. Men like Mark Whitman didn’t kiss boring, socially retarded
professors.

But he did. Right on the lips, his breath tinged with the
sweet wine they’d consumed at dinner. His mouth was soft, gliding ever so
gently over hers.

She couldn’t breathe. How long had it been since she’d been
kissed?

Oh, hell. She’d never been kissed like this. One touch of
mouth to mouth and she was heading for a coronary.

As quickly as it started, it was over. Lara had to right
herself because she’d leaned clean into him.

He grinned and said, “Night, Lara. Good luck with your next
book.”

She watched him walk away and suddenly she felt like Ilsa
saying goodbye to Rick in
Casablanca
. She was certain that wistful,
I-wish-things-could-be-different look hung on her expression long after he’d
driven off.

She was such a dork!

After slipping inside and tossing off her uncomfortable
shoes, she headed straight for the bedroom.

Cinderella night was over. She hung up Nancy’s sundress and
returned to her ratty shorts and T-shirt.

Thankfully, that ordeal was over. But Mark’s kiss still
burned on her lips, making her feel hot, flustered and utterly foolish. How old
was she, anyway? Fourteen?

“You’re a moron, Lara. You really need to get out more. Your
social skills are atrocious.” And now she was talking to herself, a habit
brought about by spending way too much time alone.

She plopped down at her desk and turned on the computer,
blowing out a sigh of frustration. The computer wasn’t the only thing turned
on.

Why couldn’t she be like other women? She was approaching
thirty. Well-educated, sexually knowledgeable, with the sexual experience of
the average teenager. Less, actually, if her research was accurate. Her few
forays into sexual escapades had been one bomb after another.

Meanwhile, gorgeous, sexy men like Mark Whitman blew in and
out of her life like a snowstorm.

Another one bites the dust, Lara, and all you got was a
little taste of what could be
.

Her work blurred on the screen, her body on fire from a
simple peck on the lips.

No sense in waiting while the urge was so strong right now.
Time to go find Bob and get a little relief.

She pushed away from the desk and headed into the bedroom,
plopping down on the bed. Slipping off her T-shirt and shorts, she reached into
the nightstand drawer. Toys of every shape, size and texture imaginable filled
the drawer, making it look like an overstuffed toybox for the perverse. She
giggled and wrapped her palm around Bob, the big boy.

Leaning back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and
imagined Mark, his face and body coming into view quite clearly. Only this time
he didn’t just stand there and smile that sexy smile at her. This time, he
stood at the foot of her bed and began to undress.

She planted her feet flat on the bed and spread her legs,
flipping Bob’s switch and smiling as he whirred to life. Just the sound of her
favorite vibrator got her juices flowing.

Not that hadn’t been flowing all night long at dinner. By
the time Mark had dropped her off her panties were soaked. Talking about sex
always turned her on. Talking about sex with someone as hot as Mark Whitman had
her ready to explode.

Snagging her bottom lip between her teeth, she slipped Bob
between her legs, letting its soft vibration tickle her clit. She squeezed her
buttocks together at the exquisite sensation, rocking her hips back and forth
and moving Bob along her slit. Hot cream poured from her cunt and down the
crack of her ass. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this wet or
this excited.

And she knew why. Visions of Mark standing naked before her
crept into her fantasies. He arched a dark brow, crawling onto the bed and
stopping between her legs. She watched in utter rapture as he bent down, pulled
Bob away and planted his mouth firmly over her sex.

She shrieked at the heat pulsing through her. When he licked
the length of her, sliding his tongue inside her pussy and licking up the cream
there, she moaned, thrashing around on the bed like she was on fire and trying
to escape the heat.