Negligee Behavior (8 page)

“I might be an asshole, but I’m not that big of one.”

“Really? Where’s she staying tonight?”

The same question had crossed his mind a few times throughout the evening. Where would she be staying? They hadn’t talked about it since breakfast. This morning—before she’d become the newest employee at Dante’s Place—he’d just assumed he’d drop her off at a hotel in town.

Now the entire game plan had changed. It was going on one in the morning. The idea of her getting a room in a small off-Strip motel seemed like a real shitty idea.

But he didn’t want to admit his thoughts to Sebastian. The guy already thought he’d slipped off the deep end over the choir teacher.

“I don’t know where she’s staying, and it’s not my business.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.
You’re an asshole
.

Marco spotted the flicker of surprise and annoyance in Sebastian’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything and just shook his head.

An hour later they booted out the last customer and locked up. Brandy sat down on a bench in one of the booths and laid her head on the table.

Marco’s sympathy for Brandy kicked up a notch. That energy drink had barely gotten her through.

“I’ll go cash out. Be back in a few.” He grabbed the till and snuck one last look at Brandy before heading into the back.

Hell, he couldn’t send her to a motel. His conscience wouldn’t let him—actually, there were probably other reasons, but he hesitated to acknowledge them. He counted down the till in record time and locked the deposit in the safe to be dropped off in the morning.

When he headed back up front, he found Sebastian sweeping the floor as he chatted with Brandy. He turned the lights off in the kitchen and then walked out to where they were.

“Hey, we all about ready to head out?”

“I think we’re set.” Sebastian went to return the broom. “So what do you say, Brandy?”

The hairs on the back of Marco’s neck rose. “Say to what?”

Brandy looked away from Sebastian and smiled hesitantly. “Sebastian offered me his couch tonight. That way I wouldn’t have to check into a motel this late at night.”

Marco’s vision blurred as the blood pounded faster through his veins. “What?”

Sebastian’s innocent look didn’t fool him for a second. “That’s right, mate. I have that big living room with the comfy couch. Tomorrow we can—”

“No.” Marco folded his arms across his chest.

Sebastian and Brandy both turned to look at him.

“Marco, there’s no need for her to waste money on a motel room this late at night.”

“She’s staying with me.” The words were out and he wasn’t sure he’d take them back even if he could.

Sebastian’s expression turned to pure satisfaction. Damn it. Marco had walked right into that little setup. The muscles in the back of his neck bunched with tension as he glanced back at Brandy. She seemed hesitant, and maybe a little relieved by his statement.

“Really, mate, are you sure?” Sebastian persisted. “I don’t mind her staying with me.”

“Her stuff is already at my house.”

“Oh.” She patted her smiley face tote bag. “But I only have my purse—”

“You’re staying with me.”

Her eyes widened. “Okay…if you think that’s best.”

Sebastian lifted his palms in the air, his grin broadening. “Well, now that that’s settled, shall we call it a night?”

“Sure. Thank you, Sebastian, for the offer. And thank you, Marco, for letting me crash again.” Brandy took a few steps towards the door and hesitated. “Hey, what time do I work tomorrow? I’d like to try and swing by the outlet mall and buy some clothes.”

“You don’t have any clothes?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Now, luv, no one will complain if you’d like to waitress naked.”

“You’d better quit with that shit, Sebastian.” Marco walked towards the door and opened it, gesturing for the other two to follow him out. “It’s amazing your ass hasn’t been slapped with a sexual harassment suit yet.”

Sebastian stepped outside and winked at Brandy. “Women know I’m just a big harmless flirt. Don’t you, luv?”

“You are the king of flirts.” She giggled and followed him out the door.

Sebastian’s outrageous flirting with women was legendary. Marco had always laughed it off. But somehow tonight it wasn’t funny. Marco set the alarm and then locked the door behind them.

“You can start in the evening again. The lunches are slow enough that we can run on a fewer amount of employees.”

“Wonderful. I’m sure I’ll do better tomorrow, guys. Now that I know what to expect.”

“You did splendid, luv. You should be proud of yourself. Besides, tomorrow is Sunday. We’ll not be nearly as busy.”

Sebastian patted her back and Marco clenched his fists to avoid slapping his hand away.

Every move Sebastian made was deliberate at this point. Set to egg him on. Marco wasn’t an idiot. It was a little game they’d always played, find each other’s weakness and then needle it until one of them broke.

Brandy yawned and took the helmet that Marco held out to her, but didn’t put it on. “Well, I’m proud that I didn’t drop anything or spill any drinks. And everyone was rather nice to me.”

“That’s because you’re a sweetheart.” Sebastian winked and headed across the parking lot to the only car left in it. “Good night, kids. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marco watched Sebastian climb into his car and drive out of the parking lot, honking his horn as he passed. Then he turned his gaze back to Brandy.

She climbed on the back of his bike, looking like she’d been riding for years. She looked good on it, like she belonged there. Cat shirt and all.

He stepped closer to her, but didn’t climb on in front of her just yet. There was something about her. Even with the just-ran-over-by-a-truck mask of exhaustion on her face. Reaching a hand up, he tucked back a curl that had fallen down from her ponytail.

Her eyes widened and he watched her throat move as she swallowed hard.

“You did great tonight, Brandy.” He could smell his soap on her. His soap mixed with her apple perfume gave it a spicy, sweet, feminine smell. It stirred his blood to think about her using his soap this morning. Running it over every luscious curve on her body.

“Do you think so?” Her gaze locked on his.

“Do I think so what?”

She gave a soft laugh. “Um…think I did great tonight. Like you just said.”

“Ah right. Sorry. Yes, I do think so.” He paused. “I’m sorry for the way I acted earlier. I was being an ass. I misjudged you.” He wasn’t about to admit that he’d been jealous.

“Yes, you were. Apology accepted.”

“Good.” He leaned a little closer and breathed in her scent again. “You know, I can smell my soap on you.” The words came out in a husky rush.

Was that guilt flickering in her eyes? And under the streetlights, he could swear her cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You can?”

“Yeah, I can. And I like it.”

She inhaled swiftly. “You do?”

Maybe it was because it was so late and he’d worked an abnormally long shift. Or maybe it was the full moon, but, damn it all. He wanted to kiss her again.

“I do.”

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her forward.

“Are you…are you going to kiss me?”

He nodded. She just had to put it into words, didn’t she?

“Is that okay?”

“Oh, yes.” She gasped. “It is, it really is. I mean that first kiss we had was unbeliev—”

He closed his mouth over hers, stopping her breathy prattle. Her words died on a soft sigh and her arms slipped around his neck.

The softness of her lips parted to give him entry into her mouth. Needing to taste her, he slipped his tongue inside to find hers.

She made the sweetest little moan and her hands moved over his chest. Her tongue rubbed against his, almost hesitant at first and then became more confident.

He angled his head to give him better access to her mouth, delving deeper. The taste of her and her scent had his blood roaring, his jeans fitting tighter.

Pulling away, she gasped for air. Her pale throat gleamed in the moonlight and he lowered his mouth to kiss the pulse that beat like crazy in her neck.

“Marco…”

She lifted her hands to his shoulders and dug her nails into him.

More. He needed more. He slipped his hands to her waist, moving them under the hem of her shirt until they encountered the warm softness of her skin.

The sound of her heavy breathing aroused him further. And when she squirmed on the bike, giving him better access to her body, he took advantage of it. He slid his palms up the slight swell of her stomach, towards the curves of her breasts.

Closer. His fingers skimmed her ribs and then came to rest at the underside of her breasts. A lace bra? On Brandy? The thought didn’t seem to jibe with the outfit she was wearing. He’d imagined white cotton.

“Lace?” he muttered.

“Mmm.” She groaned, as if she hadn’t even heard his question.

His line of reasoning disappeared, and only the fullness of her curves at his fingertips mattered. The lace wasn’t so sexy anymore, the fabric seeming a scratchy contrast to her silky skin.

Lifting his palms to fully cup each of her breasts, he groaned when her nipples tightened in his hands.

“Marco.”

He caught her gasp in another kiss, closing his mouth over hers while he kneaded each lush swell.

Her body trembled and he pressed closer, making their bodies mold into one, so anyone passing by on the street wouldn’t see fully what was happening—that he was losing all control with Brandy in the parking lot of his bar.

His own thoughts slowed him down. What the hell was he doing? Making out with Brandy like a teenager, a rock hard erection pressing at his jeans.

Idiot
. It hadn’t been a good idea yesterday, and it still wasn’t any better today.

He lifted his head, his breath ragged. “We should stop.”

Her breath feathered warm on his face. “Should we? Why?”

“We’re in a parking lot.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s late.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Arousal fogged her gaze. “But I was really into that, Marco. I want to make love to you tonight.”

Everything inside him stopped. The hands that cupped her breasts slipped away. Make love to her. Phrased like that it put sex in a whole new context. And it went beyond the making out like horny teenagers. Making love sounded so much more serious, so committed.

He hadn’t had a woman in months. And now here was a woman who’d just run from her wedding, offering herself to him. Sober this time.

Every part of him—and one in particular—wanted to accept her offer.

“Brandy…”

“Oh, that’s a no. The tone gives it all away.” She pulled back a bit and pulled her shirt back down. “Is this that ‘You’ll regret it’ stuff? Because if it is, I can promise you I won’t.”

“You might.”

“Come on, can’t I decide that? You’re acting like I’m some half-wit.” She went quiet and he wasn’t sure what to say either.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. Like I said, I really liked what we were doing. And I…” Her words trailed off into a long yawn.

“And you’re tired,” he finished for her, unable to resist trailing a finger over her swollen bottom lip.

“Yes, I am.” She yawned again and then sighed. “Oh, who am I kidding? It’s after two in the morning and I’m exhausted. I won’t try and talk you into going to bed with me tonight.”

“You won’t?”

“Nope. When we sleep together, I want to have buckets of energy. Because something tells me I’ll need it. You are an outstanding kisser, Marco. And your hands will give me sweet dreams tonight. But right now, I’m too tired to do anything besides go to sleep.”

Marco blinked. Go to sleep? What the hell kind of transition was that? She’d gone from wanting to go to bed with him, to wanting to go to bed.

Stop it, this is what you wanted.

“Ugh…okay.” He shook his head and climbed on the bike, telling himself it was better this way.

The sound of someone knocking on the door woke her. Brandy blinked her eyes open, spotted the half-naked woman poster on the ceiling and remembered everything.

“Yes?” she croaked and pulled the sheet up to her chin.

“You awake?”

“Define awake.”

Marco’s soft laughter on the other side of the door slid over her senses, sending warm tingles through her. She touched her lips, remembering the kiss from last night.

Lord, the man knew how to knock a girl’s socks off with just a kiss. And he’d done it twice now.

“Are you hungry?”

For
? She bit her lip to stop the naughty taunt from spilling. Jeez, what was wrong with her?
Calm the hormones, Brandy.

“Yeah. I’m a little hungry.”

“Great. I need to go into Vegas this morning. I thought we could grab breakfast if you want.”

He was inviting her to spend more time with him? Surely he should be nearly sick of her by now. The idea he wanted her to come with him again spread warmth throughout her body.

Her stomach rumbled and she scrubbed a fist over her eye. “I’d love to. When are you leaving?”

“Can you be ready in a half hour?”

“Sure.” Brandy winced and climbed out of bed.

So much for getting herself off in the shower again. Between that mini-make out session last night and the sensual dream she’d just woken up from, a little relief would’ve been welcome.

But now she’d be lucky to have time for a shampoo. Though, she somehow doubted she’d be willing to settle for taking matters into her own hands anyway. No. Next time, she wanted it in his hands.

“I washed your clothes last night,” he called out from the other side of the door. “I know you wanted to shop before your shift, but I figured you’d want clean clothes for this morning.”

She froze, halfway to the door, her eyebrows rising. The man did her laundry? Amazing. It might not have fazed her if she’d led the life her parents did. But she’d been in her own condo since she’d graduated college, and she refused to hire a housekeeper. So she knew full well how laundry could suck the life out of someone’s day.

Grabbing the door handle, she suddenly stopped. She tugged the T-shirt he’d lent her further down her thighs self-consciously, and then twisted the handle to open the door.

Marco stood on the other side, leaning against the doorjamb and watching her with a lazy smile.

“You’re hair’s cute in the morning,” he said.

She blinked. Was he serious? She knew darn well what her hair looked like, and cute was not the adequate adjective. To test her own reasoning, she patted the top of her head. Sure enough, the curls were a good couple of inches in the air.

“Thanks for washing my clothes.” She took the small stack from him, and her cheeks warmed a bit when she saw her bra and panties folded neatly on top.

“No problem. That’s a pretty hot underwear set you’ve got going on there.”

Her face went from slightly warm to burning up. “Seriously? You just had to comment on those?”

“Yes. ’Cause I’m dirty.” He gave her a roguish look. “And so are you, so go get your butt in the shower.”

“Nice.” She rolled her eyes and walked past him towards the bathroom. “You go from a backhanded compliment on a girl’s underwear to telling her she stinks? How do you even get a date?”

Marco laughed, a low sexy sound that sent hot little shivers through her.

“Getting a date, or anything else from a woman, has never been a problem, princess.”

Brandy wrinkled her nose at him and then shut the bathroom door, blocking out his amused smile.

She groaned and pressed her forehead against the door.

Of course Marco never had issues with women. The man was a walking sex symbol–confident, sexy and he had that dangerous edge most women flocked to. He was the type of man you had a wild, uninhibited fling with but never married.

So what did that mean for her? Did it mean she really wanted to get involved sexually with him? That was if she could even convince him to go to bed with her.

There were times where she was thoroughly convinced he wanted her. Would take her in the middle of a freeway during rush hour traffic type wanted her. But then there were other times…an arctic breeze could be warmer than his attitude towards her. He was such an absolute puzzle.

I’ll bet he wouldn’t be so quick to say no to me if he knew who I was.

She sighed. Which was why she still avoided telling him. If he was going to be interested in her, she didn’t want it to be because she was the Lingerie Heiress. She wanted it to be because she was some girl named Brandy, who taught music, who he just happened to fall for.

“Enough already. You don’t have time to overanalyze all this,” she muttered to herself. “Just get your butt in the shower.”

It’d all work out. Whatever fate intended. Brandy pulled off her shirt and climbed into the stall. She tilted her head and pursed her lips. Then again, maybe people created their own fate.

“A buffet?”

“I’m starving.” Marco grinned and gestured for her to go into the restaurant first. “I tend to avoid the Strip at all costs. But if I’m coming down here anyway and plan to eat, I occasionally swing by one.”

He gave the cashier his credit card and ignored Brandy’s protests. Maybe she did have money, but that didn’t mean he’d let her pick up the tab when they went out.

“I’m buying next time,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

“Deal.”

The hostess led them to a table and gave them instructions on how the buffet worked. Brandy seemed to be hanging on her every word.

Had she never been to a buffet? He pursed his lips as he watched her. He got the feeling this would be another first for her.

When the hostess walked away, Brandy turned to him, her brow furrowed and her mouth parted. Clearly she was a bit overwhelmed.

“There’s so much food,” she finally said.

He laughed. “I’m going to take a wild guess here. You’ve never been to a buffet?”

Her expression relaxed and she gave a slight shrug. “No. I’ve never been to a buffet.”

“Come on, it’s easy.” He grabbed her hand and led her over to where the plates were stacked high. He picked one up and handed it to her. “First you take one of these.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness you’re here. I never would never have figured that part out on my own.”

“Sarcasm becomes you.” He picked up his own plate. “And next…”

“Next?”

“You fill your plate with everything and anything you want to eat.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And then you do it again. And again and again. Until you need a forklift to get out the door. Or you barf.”

“Holy crap. No wonder my mom said these places were the devil.” She walked past him, eyeing the food with open excitement.

Christ. What kind of person had never been to a buffet? He didn’t know whether to pity her or roll over in shock. Maybe both. And interesting that she’d dropped a diluted curse from her lips.

Leaving her to explore on her own, he went to load up his own plate. Meat. Meat. Eggs. More meat. He started to head back to the table and hesitated at his one weakness. Grabbing a gooey chocolate doughnut, he squeezed it onto his plate.

Their table was still empty. Brandy still eyed all her choices with the same intensity and consideration put into picking out a wedding ring.

Wedding ring
. His own thoughts sent a sharp reminder through him of exactly who she was. A rich runaway bride. Meaning he still needed to tread carefully.

Funny how quickly she’d grown on him. Quirky habits and bad clothing be damned.

He settled at the table and ordered a coffee from the waitress when she came by, then asked for a tea for Brandy.

“Okay. I did it.”

He looked up, a bite of ham dangling from his fork. Brandy stood before him, grinning like she’d just won an Oscar.

“Good job. What did you get?”

She slid into her chair and set her plate down. One waffle covered in strawberries lay on her plate.

He lifted his gaze to hers. “That’s it?”

“That’s all I wanted.” She grabbed her knife and fork and sliced a piece, lifting it to her mouth.

She closed her eyes and made a small moan of approval. The same kind of moan he’d bet she’d make if someone was going d—

“This is so good.” Her tongue swept across her lip before she took another bite.

His grip on the fork tightened and he forced his attention back to his own plate.

“So did you always want to open a bar?” she asked.

The sudden question threw him. It brought him back to his life and what it had been just a couple of years ago. His throat tightened and suddenly the food he was eating didn’t seem quite as awesome.

“No. The concept for a bar was more of a recent idea…”

“What were you before? A tattoo artist or something?” She grinned and nodded her chin at his arm. “I love your dragon by the way.”

“Thanks.” A tattoo artist? If she only knew. Maybe that’s why she didn’t seem in any hurry to go off on her own. Maybe the sweet, conservative choir teacher considered herself to be exploring her wild side by slumming with the guys who owned a bar. Lord if she only knew that just two years ago most of his days had been spent in a suit and tie—

“Your tea.”

They both turned their attention to the waitress who set down a steaming cup of tea in front of Brandy.

“Oh. Thank you.” The pleasure on Brandy’s face was evident. “You sure are figuring me out.”

Relieved that the subject had shifted from his past, he offered an amused shrug.

“You made it pretty clear yesterday morning you weren’t a coffee girl.”

“No. You’re right. I’m certainly not.” She went back to her waffle and nodded over at his plate. “Okay. You’ve thrown me. You’ve got like every edible animal on your plate. No hash browns, toast or pancakes. I mean, I’d guess you were doing low carb or something—”