So Into You (3 page)

Gentle rays of silver dusted the
curves of her body as she unfastened her robe and stood next to the full-length
mirror on the wall trying to decide what to do.

Her own reflection caught her eye
and she turned, knowing what she would see, but intrigued by the muted traces of
light dancing on her skin. She had ample curves; a woman's body with the dips
and valleys that whispered of sensual interludes and the pleasures of a man's
touch caressing them.

She licked the taste of wine from
her lips, wondering at the sudden shiver of need that tightened her nipples
into hard buds.

A vision of Phil Cooper darted
through her mind, following on the heels of her sudden sexual awareness.
If he was there right now…

But he wasn't.

She was—as she had been for going on
four years now—alone.

Moving to the nightstand, she took a
worn photo album from the drawer. It was filled with photos taken the year
after she graduated from college.

Casey smiled as she touched the
photos, not needing light to know what was there. She felt a familiar crease in
the paper and stopped. Beneath her fingertips was the reason she was still
alone.

If she turned on the light, she knew
what she would see. Dark hair, rugged, a short beard surrounded by a day's
worth of stubble, and rippling muscles beneath his open shirt. The term
beefcake
fit him to a T, but she'd always been drawn to his eyes. Sure, the smoking hot
body was a benefit she'd appreciated many times. But it was the way he looked
at her that had captured her, body and soul.

His cool blue eyes pierced her heart,
stirring the fire within her and making her wet, aching inside. Just thinking
of him made a shudder of desire roil low in her belly and between her legs. As
if the passion from all their nights together could still melt her flesh and
arouse her like some kind of psychic foreplay,

Photos were all she had left of the
man who had changed her life forever.

His name was
Dominic
.

*~*~*~*

Her body had trembled at his touch.
Always.
One look and he could strip her inhibitions away as
easily as he stripped her from her panties. His hands were softer than she
expected and they brushed against her skin as if they knew exactly where she
needed them most.

Her spine shuddered at the bolts of
inner lightning that screamed from his fingertips as they slowly traced the
inner creases of slick flesh between her legs. A sound, a moan—familiar yet
strange—and his caress changed from the soft strokes to a firmer pressure on
her clit. She could feel it swelling more and more with her growing arousal.

Casey fell back onto her bed as
memories crashed through her mind with the force of a tsunami. She surrendered,
drowning willingly in the clearly remembered sensations invoked by the mere
mention of his name, her body already turning liquid with yearning.

She found herself pressing into the
mattress, her hips lifting to meet the invading fingers she knew would stroke
around the opening of her pussy.

Oh fuck, oh shit
…

She would beg for a release from the
torment that had been building within her. He loved to hear her beg, to whimper,
to implore him to have mercy on her even as she lifted herself into his touch.
He teased her; sometimes leaving her completely for a few moments, bereft and
craving everything he could give her, and more.

He was the first man she knew who
could touch her so effectively, so familiarly. It was as if he had watched and
made notes as she touched herself. That skill had made it all so much more
intense.

Her breasts ached for his caress
every bit as much as her clit. Need clawed at her and she sighed as a finger
slipped within. He had known exactly when and how to tease her.

Even with her eyes closed she could
tell when he was staring at her pussy. Her inner thighs tingled at the
recollection of his hot breath against them and she quivered, as if his lips
had kissed her pubis. They had both loved this, the foreplay, the climb toward
the ultimate delight. If he hadn't shaved, his stubble would tug erotically
against her skin as he rubbed his face against her.

Casey felt the initial wave of her
orgasm strengthen as her fingers took the place of Dominic's, and her palm
replaced his hungry mouth. So close now…so close.

If he'd been here, she would have
looked down her body to see his thick hair moving between her parted thighs.

He'd have smiled, a wicked and
sensual grin. And he'd have said something outrageous, just to add to the heat.
"
Mmm. You taste fucking hot. Enough with the finger food. I want to eat
the whole fucking buffet
." Even as her body throbbed, she smiled at
the thought of how much fun they'd had.

And yet—now it was harder to
remember the sound of his voice. She wanted to stop for a second, to pull it
back to her, to share this moment with his memory.

But her mind quickly began to spin,
her blood pulsing through her body and arrowing down toward her heated center.
Her clit was swollen, throbbing with excitement and within moments the storm
was upon her.

She rode the wave, her legs rigid,
panting as she fought for breath. Pressing hard on her sex, she shuddered
through the release, letting her body take her where it wanted to go.

Finally, it subsided, leaving her
pleasantly sated and listening to the pounding of her heart as it slowed.

Memories of Dominic always brought
this kind of warmth with them. He'd been the only man who could ever make her
so insane with desire she'd do anything and everything he wanted. They had been
true mates, resonating on a variety of levels, including the physical.
Especially
the physical.

And it had only been slightly more
than four years since she'd lost him.

There had been dates since then, of
course. But only that.
Dates
. She'd never felt interested enough to go
any further, no matter how pleasant the evening had been.

None of the men she'd spent time
with had stirred that something inside her that Dominic had owned from the
moment they met. Even thinking about sex with another man had seemed wrong at
first, then simply too much bother. They weren't her lost lover, so surely the
evening would be a bust. Better no sex at all than an awkward experience.

Logically she knew it was all part
of the grieving process and that eventually the guilt and sadness would fade
enough for her to open doors again and let someone inside. Both physically and
metaphorically.

Casey let her thoughts wander as she
lay, relaxed, on her bed. She was still alive, a woman with a good job, a
not-unattractive body, and overall a pretty healthy interest in sex.

She'd had one amazing passion in her
life and he'd gone. Through no fault of his own, he was hers no longer. A
climbing trip with his friends in Colorado, a sudden storm, and two young men
were gone, disappearing forever on the side of a mountain, torn from their team
by a vicious whim of nature. That freak snowfall had robbed her of a potential
future filled with everything she'd ever dreamed of.

Overcoming such pain had taken more
from her than she could have guessed, but perhaps now her period of mourning
might be coming to its natural conclusion. It had been so hard, knowing a
flower would never mark his last resting place, nor could she go and say her
own farewells. But she knew that time was helping her come to terms with it.

Now and again, when the wind blew
toward the horizon, she would whisper goodbye. And pray he heard.

She could think of Dominic more
often without as much grief. The laughter and joy they'd shared was replacing
the agony of his loss. It was slow, but it was happening.

She straightened the covers and
slipped beneath them, grimacing as her thighs slid stickily against each other.
Shrugging, she shifted into a more comfortable position.

As sleep claimed her, a random
thought darted through her mind. If she looked down between her thighs now, she
could imagine another face there. Which was very surprising.

Even more surprising?

The face belonged to Phil Cooper
.

Phil sat quietly at his desk playing
his favorite online game and trying not to get caught. An incoming email pinged
its arrival, so he closed the game screen and opened his account. To his
surprise, the sender was C. Andrews.

Casey
.

His hopes soaring, he clicked the
'open mail' button. Maybe this was the big one, the one where she confirmed her
dark sexual need for him. Where she explained in great detail all the perverse
sexual things she wanted him to do to her because she had finally realized he
was the only man that could truly satisfy her. Hopefully she'd provide photos
for instruction.

Or maybe, although the rumors about
his immense penis size were too much for some women, she was willing to let him
stretch her out. Of course that was just wishful thinking, but there wasn't a
damn thing wrong with dreams.

His dreams disintegrated as he read
the email in its entirety.

Crap…she's sent it to me by
accident.

It was addressed to PCoop and Phil
could instantly see where the error had occurred. The client she'd intended it
for was Potomac Cooperative Industries, a large organization looking into
property in Maryland. Their email address was PCoopInd. All it took was one
click and the email software would pull up both addresses. Way too easy to pick
the wrong one as recipient.

Then he took a closer look at the
contents.

He sucked in air between his lips as
he realized what he was seeing. Casey had done more than hit the wrong button.
She'd sent an estimate to the Acquisitions Manager that was off by a factor of
at least a hundred. Sure, people messed up. He'd done it himself a time or two.

But an error like this could cost
the company several hundred thousand dollars.

He thought for a few minutes about
exactly how to handle it. But there was really no question in his mind. Within
seconds his fingers were busy on his keyboard, replying to her and highlighting
the problem he'd caught.

He made sure she understood that
people make mistakes all the time, nobody was perfect and it was a good thing
he saw it first, since he was sending it right back to her without any comments
to anyone else. No harm, no foul.

And maybe make a few brownie points
with her
.

Okay, that was kind of a low and
sleazy thought. But overall he was doing a colleague a good turn. Where was the
harm in that?

Time passed, the minutes turned into
half an hour, and Phil was lost in the seventh level of his game, about to
surpass his personal high for destroying useless furious critters.

"Hey, Phil."

Casey stood by Phil's cubicle,
smiling politely. He fumbled his pen and reached down to pick it up, slowing as
the vision of her black stilettos led upward to the curved line of her legs.
They disappeared beneath the black skirt that clung tightly around her hips.

He managed to cover his sigh of
appreciation, even when he noticed the top button of her white blouse was
undone. The soft skin over her throat beckoned him.

His mouth watered. A fantasy
conversation screamed through his head.
Hey Casey. Why don't we get out of
here and I can eat that sweet pussy for lunch then stuff you with the foot-long
hotdog I have in my pants.

Fortunately, he was still sane
enough to know the difference between fantasy and reality. He settled for a
simple "Hey Casey."

She took a breath. "I want to
thank you for catching that mistake I made. It could have been a real screw-up
on my part. And I really appreciate your not saying anything."

"No problem. We work together.
I wouldn't want you getting into trouble if it could be avoided. That's what
friends do—look out for each other."

She bit her lip, looking a little
embarrassed. "I've made a few mistakes like that lately. I know it's
because I'm so swamped, but that doesn't excuse anything. Whoever handled some
of these accounts before me hadn't ever heard of accurate documentation."
She shrugged away the annoyance.

Phil watched her, seeing the color
in her cheeks, knowing that this must be a difficult conversation for someone
so reticent to share anything resembling emotions.

"I got a mess of paperwork
dumped in my lap right before I lost my assistant to maternity leave. And now I
worry that things like this are going to get past me. Fortunately, my
mis-directed email went to the right person after all. You." Playfully,
she cocked a finger and pointed it at him. "So I wanted to thank you, and
let you know I owe you one."

The light bulb went off in Phil's
head. "You owe me one, huh?" He made a show of stroking his chin, as
if in deep thought.

Then he snapped his fingers.
"Got it. Why not let me take you to dinner?
You
know I've always been
interested. And
I
know you don't date coworkers, because that's what
you've told everyone who's ever asked. So what do you say? Just dinner—a nice
meal and some good conversation, nothing more."