Hot Buttered Yum (11 page)

“No, no. I’m …” She panted, trying to get her breath. She squinted
her eyes shut tight as if that would help her concentration. Her tongue touched
her top lip while she imagined him lying in his hotel bed with his hands on
himself. Thinking about her. “I’m perfectly fine not
knowing what you imagined.”

He chuckled
again. This time her nipples lit up. That piercing he was so interested
in—which was actually a small barbell instead of a ring—rubbed against her bra
and she went a little weak at the knees.

“What was the
next issue you had?” he asked.

He lifted his
face from her neck and she whimpered at the loss. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. His
white smile flashed again. She would drop her panties for that smile if he
asked. Then he put both her wrists in one of his hands, still behind her back.

“You wanted to
know … in
your
words …
if I wanted in your pants.”

He used her own
hands to press her forward, into his erection. His size made quite the
statement.

She whimpered
again.

His free hand
cupped her jaw and held her face up to his. He rubbed his thumb over her top lip,
tracing the upward curve before dipping in the middle. “I do,” he whispered.
“And I intend to. I really like those pants.”

They were
designer jeans. And they were made to get noticed.

“Then why all
the other talking?” she asked. Her voice barely made any noise at this point.
“Why not just seduce me?”

“I am seducing
you.” The hand that held her jaw lowered to trail down the middle of her
throat. The backs of four fingers whispered along her heated skin. When he hit
the pulse at the base, he changed to using only one finger.

Roni’s heart raced as the
pad of that finger kept going and neared her chest. She shivered.

“You know,” he
said conversationally. “It’s December. If you’d learn to wear winter-appropriate
clothing outside, you might not shiver so much.”

She had on a
soft cotton blouse with flutter sleeves that came to her elbows. She’d picked
up the shirt in Paris the summer before she quit touring. “It’s a perfectly
fine shirt,” she told him.

“It’s short
sleeves.”

“I’m not cold.”

His finger hit
the lowest part of the vee in her neckline. Right between her breasts. “You’re shivering for another
reason then?”

He was such a
tease.

“Why all the
talking, Lucas?”

His finger
slipped over her shirt and circled down below her curves and she couldn’t help
the way she pushed her chest out. She wanted his hand on her.

“You owed me,”
he muttered. He seemed fascinated with the path his finger was taking. “You’ve
been ignoring me for two days.”

“So you’re …
what?
Punishing
me by making us chat
about our pasts?” She forced her mind away from his roaming finger long enough
to think about their conversation, and then she accused, “You didn’t even bring
up the past yourself. That was me. How did you do that?”

He trailed back
and forth, right at the base of the breast that wore the piercing. Her hands
were still trapped behind her back, thrusting her toward him, and she would swear
she could have an orgasm right then and there if only he’d land on her nipple.
She pushed closer, nudging at his finger.

“I’ve watched
you for the last three days,” he told her. “I knew that all I had to do was
remain silent and you’d fill the void. Plus, we didn’t talk about your past.
You just asked about mine.” His gaze lifted to cling to hers. “We can talk
about yours later.”

She strained her
back in a tight arch and let out a low growl when his finger made a slow,
deliberate swipe up and over the lower heaviness of her breast, coming within
millimeters of the most sensitive spot.

“That wasn’t
very nice,” she whispered, her voice as shaky as she was. She could either be
talking about him remaining silent to get her talking earlier, or about him
almost
touching her nipple now. She
wasn’t even sure which she was referring to.

“I had to do
something,” he whispered. He’d moved in without her realizing it and his mouth
now hovered against hers. “You said you weren’t going to sleep with me.”

He sucked her
lower lip into his mouth before letting it go with a pop and she tugged against
the hand holding her wrists. She wanted to touch him.

He didn’t
release her.

“Let me go,” she
begged.

He shook his
head. “I like this game.”

“What is this
one you’re playing now? You were supposed to tell me the rules.”

“The rules are
simple. I do whatever I want.”

“And me?” She
was panting again. “What do I do?”

He eyed her in
the dark. The stillness on his features had her shaking in his hands once
again. “You also do whatever I want,” he murmured.

She grew still.
She could feel dampness between her legs, her blood coursing through her veins.
He had her on the edge. Which was bad. Bad, bad, bad. She’d never been one to have a lot of control
when it came to not going after what she wanted.

“And what is it
that you want?” she finally whispered.

Inside, she silently
begged that he didn’t say he wanted her in his bed. She couldn’t do that to
Kayla. But she had no idea how she would be able to say no.

He gripped her
wrists with both hands again and leaned in. He let his chest brush over hers this
time as he touched his lips, first to one corner of her mouth, then the other.
Then he grazed along her closed eyelids as she stood there, mouth hanging slightly
open, legs shaking beneath her. Every place he touched, she sparked. Setting her on fire.

She burned. Everywhere.

She wanted.
Everything
.

He pulled back
and slowly released her wrists. But instead of allowing her to touch him, he
clasped her hands together in between their bodies. She wasn’t sure she had the
strength to lift her fingers and touch him at that moment anyway. The man was
serious about seduction.

Then he leaned
in one last time and planted the tiniest, most innocent, yet wildly sexual kiss
against her lips. It was barely more than the flap of a butterfly’s wings but
she groaned as if he’d just slid inside her.

“I want you
thinking about
me
tonight,” he told
her. “While you lay in bed. Naked.
I want you to picture me.” One more tiny touch of his lips and he whispered, “And
I want you touching yourself while you do it.”

With his words,
he stepped around her and was gone. Up the steps, long
strides heading toward the parking lot, while she stood there watching him go
and shaking like a leaf.

The man wanted
her thinking about him?

Done.

In bed while she
touched herself?

She almost
laughed, but didn’t have the strength for it.

No doubt that
would happen too.

Feminine squeals erupted inside the
convention center Thursday night as the next two contestants appeared on stage.
Roni had done the introductions to the night’s event,
and then she’d joined the audience members. This was one contest she most
certainly wanted to participate in. They were into the Nine Ladies Dancing
theme, and had the largest turnout yet.

Only, those
weren’t ladies up on that stage. And they weren’t merely “dancing.”

They were
stripping.

Six contestants
had already shaken their groove thang, and now it was
the next duo’s turn.

Lucas and
contestant number twelve, Kelly Griffin, gyrated across the stage. Both of them
wore Santa hats and what looked to Roni to be more of
jesters’ costumes than anything that could remotely be misconstrued as sexy;
however, that didn’t seem to slow the women down.

Nor did it her,
to be fair. Though maybe that was because, thanks to Lucas, she’d done nothing for
the past twenty-four hours but think about what might be inside those striped pants.
The man was evil.

And no, she
hadn’t immediately run home the night before and pleasured herself to Lucas-induced
fantasies.

She’d waited at
least a full thirty minutes before doing that.

“So,” Ginger
whispered at her side. “Spill.”

Roni squeezed her
eyes shut. Ginger had been trying to get the goods from her since she’d sat
down, as Roni still hadn’t explained how Lucas had
managed to run away with her shoes the other night. Roni
looked at the other women around their table. None of them seemed to be paying
the least bit of attention to anything but the men. That didn’t mean that
couldn’t change in an instant, though.

“Shhh,” Roni shushed her. “We’ll
talk later. Not here.”

“I don’t have
time later,” Ginger insisted. “I have to get to bed as soon as this is over. I
have an early charter scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll talk
tomorrow afternoon. Or this weekend.”

“But I want
details now.”

Roni looked at her
friend, her style almost identical to Roni’s tonight.
Dark-washed designer jeans, a feminine, ruffled top. But where Roni’s hair was its normal wild and unkempt style, Ginger’s
blond locks fell smoothly around the curve of her shoulders. Her fine hair was accented
by the kelly green of her blouse, and dipping toward
her cleavage was a lovely woven-knot necklace in sterling.

If not for the
whining coming from her friend, Roni would be highly
impressed with the sophisticated look. Ginger had put in more effort than
normal tonight.

“There aren’t
really any details to share,” Roni insisted. “Nothing
has happened.”

Except a
mouthwatering kiss and some dirty talking on the beach.

The men jerked
the tails of their shirts out of their pants, and Roni
and Ginger took a moment to pause and watch. If abs were about to make an
appearance, they didn’t want to miss it. But apparently the guys were only
teasing. The way the two men worked in unison led Roni
to believe this wasn’t the first time they’d danced together.

Ginger tugged on
the sleeve of Roni’s shirt and leaned in close. “I
heard he was at Gin’s last night.”

Roni didn’t let
herself be goaded. “Everyone was at Gin’s last night.”

“I heard you
disappeared shortly after he arrived.”

Roni swiveled her
head around to her friend. “Who told you that?” Oh geez, had someone seen them
out on the beach? Not that they’d done anything.

But still.

“What are we
talking about, ladies?” Mrs. Rylander’s tight curls popped
in between Roni and Ginger. She twisted a bony
shoulder sideways and pushed forward, and the next thing Roni
knew, her miniature neighbor had somehow parked a chair between them and had herself plopped down on it. She lifted her face and smiled from
one woman to the other, her pale-blue eyes shining with mischief. “Roni’s boy crush?”

“Mrs. Rylander,” Roni whispered. “I
don’t have a boy crush.”

“Well, honey,
that boy certainly has a crush on you.”

Ginger met Roni’s gaze over the top of Mrs. Rylander’s
head, a smug look giving her a tight smile. “Told you,” Ginger mouthed.

Roni twisted up her
face in a return smirk and then refocused her sights on their topic of
conversation. Lucas had been working it at the front of the room thus far, shaking
what his mama gave him, but as if he had some kind of sixth-sense, he shifted
his gaze at that very moment.

It landed on
her.

She exploded
with heat.

“Look at that.”
Out of the corner of her eye she watched her neighbor nudge her friend. “She
blushes every time he looks at her.”

“I do not,” Roni growled out.

“I see it,”
Ginger said. “And she does that every time, you say?”

“Every time he
turns those big blues in her direction.” Mrs. Rylander
nodded her head in overdefined up-and-down movements.

Roni lifted her hand
to her heated cheek. “It’s the glass of wine I drank,” she muttered.

Two of the
ladies at their table glanced in their direction, their gazes flickering over Roni’s burning cheeks, and Roni
wanted to duck her head. But Lucas was still staring at her.

He gripped the
corner of his bright-red bow tie and tugged. Hard. The
material slipped free from his neck and slid through his fingers. He never
glanced away from her. Holy, mother of …

Roni’s chest burned
from lack of oxygen. She wanted to help that man right out of his clothes.

“I think they
should get a room,” the eighty-year-old troublemaker whispered in a loud,
non-whispering sort of way. “That boy watches her like he knows what she tastes
like.”

“Mrs. Rylander!” Roni gasped. She broke
connection with Lucas long enough to gape in shock at her neighbor. Ginger’s
eyes widened and then she laughed so hard she doubled over at the waist. Roni watched as she wiped tears with the back of her hands.

“Shhhhh,” came from several of the other women at the table.

“Is she sleeping
with him?” This from somewhere behind her.

“If not, she needs
to. I certainly would if he looked at me like that.”

Roni had no idea
where that last comment had come from, but was dying of mortification. If she
decided to sleep with Lucas, she really didn’t need the entire room to know
about it. She opened her mouth to explain to those around her that he was only working
it, just like all the other guys that night. Their goal was to get the most
singles from the crowd.

But before she
could speak, everyone at the surrounding tables went wild, and Roni jerked her attention back around to the men. Their
shirts had come off, and two six-packs had made an appearance.

“Oh, mama,”
Ginger whispered. “He looks as hard as a freaking rock.”

Roni couldn’t help
it. Evilness and the desire to get back at her friend’s enjoyment of Roni’s current torture had her leaning into Mrs. Rylander and pressing closer to Ginger. “He is,” she
murmured. “At least his pecs.”

She lowered her
gaze to his abs and remembered trying to outline them through his shirt.

“And his abs,”
she admitted. She shot Ginger a naughty look, and Ginger fanned herself with a
napkin.

“I think you
should most definitely go for that,” Ginger said. Mrs. Rylander
bobbed her head up and down again. “And marry it as soon as possible,” Ginger
finished.

“What?” Once
again, Roni stared at her friend, her mouth hanging
open. Ginger was the “sweet” one of the group. The romantic.
She saw moons and stars with every potential relationship.

She turned those
romantic green eyes on Roni. “Imagine how good he
would take care of you if he takes care of himself like that.”

Interesting
point.
But no.

The volume of
their tablemates grew to a shriek, and instead of replying to the nonsense
Ginger was preaching, Roni returned her attention to
the men. Kelly had moved across the room, walking on the tables that had been
butted up together for just that purpose.

Lucas was doing
the same, only heading her way.

The women were
salivating, fake dollar bills waving in the air, and a prick of irritation hit Roni. Couldn’t they have a bit more class?

Lucas stepped in
the middle of their table and swung his butt around in a hypnotic move,
impressing her with what the man could do with his hips. She gulped.

The sudden
appearance of a very tiny pair of red Speedos in her face made each woman at
the table gasp, and the mistletoe design cupping the front bulge made Roni go stupid.

“Oh my geez,”
she whispered to no one.

She wanted her
hands on that.

“He sure looks
big,” Mrs. Rylander said from the other side of Roni. She had her head craned around to the front of Lucas
and was peeking up, her eyes wide.

Lucas looked down
at the woman and gave her a wink.

Then he looked
at Roni and smoldered.

“Don’t worry
about a thing,” Mrs. Rylander said. She patted Roni’s forearm as she continued watching Lucas’s one particular
body part. “My Henry was a big boy too. But it never hurt me none.”

“Oh, good grief.” Roni buried her face in her hands as everyone at the table
laughed.

Then they all grew
quiet. Pinpricks tickled the back of Roni’s neck. Terrified
to see what had caused the silence, but unable not to look, she finally forced
her face out of her hands and lifted her gaze. All eyes were on her. Including Lucas’s.

He was dancing
solely for her now. His eyes had hooded and she would swear there was smoke
coming from him. She gave him a hard look.

Go
away. Don’t be so obvious.

Only he didn’t
move on. He kept dancing. Then he nodded to the dollar bills she had clutched
in her hand.

Oh! He wanted
her dollars.

The rules were
that everyone who wanted to play could buy in with the nightly fee, and in
return they got twenty-five fake dollar bills to give to whichever
contestant—or contestants—they wanted to move on to the next round.

Women weren’t
allowed to stick the bills in the dancer’s trunks themselves for fear of …
uh … inappropriately touching the man’s “junk.” And once a person’s bills
were gone, they could continue to watch and enjoy, but they were out of the
game.

The two
contestants who collected the least money would be done.

Lucas’s hips
swirled in front of Roni’s face, trying hard to make
sure he wasn’t one of the two sent home.

His waistband
was stuffed full of the fake bills he’d already collected from the other women
and Roni handed up one of her own. They crowd
cheered. Lucas shoved it in his Speedo and kept dancing, right where he was.

The gleam in his
eyes matched the wicked in his smile, and she couldn’t help it. She flushed
again. It seemed the entire room was watching them now. And they had to know
what the both of them were thinking.

Going along with
the show, she counted out five more bills and passed them up.

A couple
whistles sounded as Lucas also tucked those into his trunks. He still didn’t go
away. Nudges and whispers worked through the crowd, along with wide smiles.
These women were enjoying watching Lucas flirt.

Then the lady to
her right leaned over and said—loudly enough that everyone at their table and
all the surrounding tables could hear, “I think he wants all of it, honey.”

Lucas’s smile
turned wolfish. Oh yeah, there was no doubt that he wanted all of it.

Covering her
eyes with one hand, she lifted the other and shoved the remainder of her bills
at Lucas. Rowdy whooping and cheering made her shake her head.

He owed her.

He owed her big.

She just had to
figure out how she was going to make him pay.

“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”

Roni sat immobile in
her seat, glancing to the floor beside her to stare at the toe of a classic
black pump, the tip end shiny patent, tapping repeatedly on the wood floor. She
followed the line of the leg up and over a pinstriped pantsuit paired with a starched
white blouse buttoned all the way to the neck, until she landed on the heated
face of an agitated event coordinator.

“Hello, Kayla.” Roni tried a smile, but didn’t expect it to do much good.
She lifted her glass of ice water and took a long sip.

She was in the
convention center’s green room, sitting calmly in a plush, square-backed chair
and staring out at the darkness of the beach. There was one light glowing in
the corner of the room by the door. She’d been there since finishing her duties
after the night’s striptease show.

The follow-up entertainment
had ended about thirty minutes earlier, and given the lack of noise coming from
the remainder of the building, the audience had all left for the night, as well.
The place was essentially deserted.

Only, Roni could still feel Lucas in the building. She hadn’t
seen him since the contest had wrapped up, but he was around.

“You slept with
him?” Kayla repeated.

Roni shook her head,
but a guilty shame crossed her features. She touched the side of the glass to
her cheek. “I have not slept with him.”

But she wanted
to.

And she
suspected she would.

Especially after
tonight.

Lucas hadn’t won
the competition—probably because he’d spent way too much time at her table and
not getting more money from others—but he’d not been in the bottom two, either.
Roni had been unable to think of anything but the way
he’d looked at her as he’d danced, his blue eyes telling all the things he
wanted to do to her when he got her alone.

So she’d escaped
to this room in the back corner of the building. Alone.
As she’d tried to sort through her feelings and figure out whether
she would let him do those things or not.

Kayla’s hands
flapped at her sides, reminding Roni of a baby bird
trying to figure out how to fly for the first time. “Roni,”
Kayla groaned. “You’re a part of this competition. You can’t just go around sleeping
with the contestants.”