Leigh. The object of his youthful fantasies come to life right before him. But she was a wicked, confident woman now.
“What are you imagining?” he asked, pretending that her fingers were his.
“You.”
He stifled a curse, then said, “Why don’t you close your eyes. Keep picturing me.”
Her long hair spread around her, one arm was crooked above her head in abandon. She was still biting her lip, her head turned to the side as she tentatively stroked herself.
He knew she was feeling shy even now. “I’m there with you, my fingers on you. How do they feel?”
“Nice,” she whispered. “Really good.”
He wanted more than good. “Slide your fingers into your panties, under that white lace. Touch yourself like you want me to touch you.”
For a second he thought he might be rushing things, that she would realize how crazy this all was and put a stop to it. But then he heard a slight moaning sound over the phone as she obeyed, slipping her fingers into her underwear, arching her hips at the contact.
His dream girl, making fantasies into a reality right here, right now. Holding back his own moan, he imagined working her, making her wet.
“Now,” he said, “take your other hand. Slip it inside your bra.”
She did, and as her hips moved with the strokes of her fingers, her lips parted. She rubbed her breast slowly, just as he would’ve done if he’d been down there.
“Do you want me inside you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Without any more instructions, she rocked her hips as she slid her fingers into herself.
He couldn’t say anything else, could only fantasize about having his cock inside her, thrusting, his skin against hers. His mouth against hers, capturing the tiny cries of ecstasy that he was hearing now as she brought herself pleasure.
His cock was hard, demanding some private release, but he wanted to stay here, keep watching her, making himself wait, stretching out the sawing buzz of lust that was starting to pierce him through and through.
With every churn of her hips, every labored breath, he struggled to hold back, even while that steam rose in him, powering through his veins with cutting speed until—
She stifled a cry, then hitched in a quick breath, taking her hand out of her bodice and curling that arm over her face as if...as if she was hiding from him the way he was hidden from her.
He was gripping the armrest with one hand while she came, pressing her face into her arm.
When she was done, she panted, then started laughing. Now she was embarrassed?
“Well,” she said. “Beth told me that our date would be fun. I can’t say I’ve ever had so much fun in this way, though.”
He laughed, too, but the sound was so tight that it barely came out. All he knew was that he’d have to have much more from Leigh than he’d gotten already.
And he had to figure out a way to touch her himself without unmasking “Callum.”
5
AS LEIGH SAT UP, straightening her dress, her bodice still open, she thought, Is this a good time to be mortified?
Had this game gone a little too far?
Probably. But the thing was, she wasn’t completely embarrassed about it. At first, maybe, but now it felt as if she’d just gotten off a breathtaking ride and her adrenaline was pumping away, telling her to get back on, to take another turn around the exhilarating track.
As if rebelling against all the deeply ingrained instincts that were trying to get her to use some common sense, she left the top of her dress open. See? She could be a desirable, sexy woman who made no apologies. She could revel in the aftermath of a seriously indulgent moment.
While she looked up at the top floor, her bra pushed up her breasts, making them rounded and sexy. Callum was probably still looking at them.
Freedom. This was truly freedom: knowing that your partner—or whatever he was—was gazing at you and not thinking you were overweight. Freedom was feeling high and ecstatic after that orgasm he’d given her with a bit of fantasy and the dark velvet sound of his voice.
Who’d ever made her feel that way before—and without even being here?
She smiled at the darkness where she knew he was sitting, though she could see only the brass railing in the firelight. Her vivid imagination made her think that she could also detect the outline of a man up there, reclining in a chair.
What would he do if she sprinted upstairs? Would he be gone before she got even halfway there?
She grabbed her wineglass, taking a long drink, then reached for the slice of cheese she’d started to eat before. When she was done with it, she said, “So, what’s next on the agenda?”
Just listen to her, sounding as if she brazenly touched herself in front of hidden men every day of the week.
His deep, tight laugh made her nipples go hard again.
Narrowing her gaze, she said, “You don’t actually have anything planned, do you?”
“Not true.”
He sounded strained, and she took great delight in that because she’d gotten to him. She was in first place in this contest. Finally.
He continued. “I’ve got dinner warming in the oven. Just a simple shrimp linguine.”
“Something you effortlessly whipped up?” With the wineglass in one hand, she plucked the phone off the blanket with the other, standing up, stretching. Teasing him a bit more with her body and reveling in it.
He cleared his throat. “I cook every so often, but I always need an easy recipe to work from. I’m not a good freestyler.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I play it pretty safe in the kitchen. I know I do damned good comfort food—that’s why people wanted me as their private chef—but it was my show’s producers who added that flirty country presentation you see on TV. I’ve never been what you’d call avant-garde with my flavors.” It was more comfortable that way, knowing where she was going, never deviating from what was tried and true.
Except for tonight.
She wandered toward the side of the room, where a stereo system waited behind the glass doors of a dark wood cabinet. She could tell Callum’s gaze was tracking her, and the rush of desire that had overwhelmed her just minutes ago heated up again.
“Go ahead,” he said as she peered at the setup. “Open it. There’s an iPod dock in there, and you can choose what you want to hear from the playlists.”
She did as he suggested, accessing the device, looking at the songs he had downloaded. “Lots of classic country, I see. You’re a Johnny Cash fan?”
“Born and bred. Why don’t you put one of his songs on?”
She randomly chose a title from the playlist, then listened to the guitar and echoing percussion, swaying a little to the beat. “I haven’t heard Johnny Cash in years. I dated a guy once who...” She decided against dragging out the past, shaking her head. “Forget it.”
“Tell me. You dated a guy once who did what?”
He actually sounded as if he wanted to hear about her boring romantic life up until now. Suddenly, a different sort of line appeared in front of Leigh, and this one wasn’t about how far she would go on a strange date. This one was more about how much of herself she was willing to give this man.
Was he into mind games just as much as the ones they were playing physically?
She’d find out. “It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that I’m embarrassed to tell you about ex-boyfriends, but that would seem silly after...” She glanced back at the blanket and pillows. “Well, you know.”
“I’m interested, Leigh. But you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
Again, he wasn’t pushing her, and that made her more comfortable.
“He was my first boyfriend,” she said, looking at th
e fire. “Although I’m not sure boyfriend is the right term.”
“Why?”
“I think both of us were under some peer pressure to date. In senior year I hung out with a group of girls who all got serious boyfriends at the same time, leaving me the odd one out. He was buddies with one of my friends’ best friends, and he was single, and...it just went from there. Movie nights with the crowd, school dances.... I was curious and he was curious, and the next thing I knew, it happened in the backseat of his car while we were parked on Glen Gulley Lane with a Johnny Cash cassette playing.”
She didn’t add that during their backseat fumblings, she hadn’t felt much of anything. Just a teenage curiosity about sex, as well as a need to get it over with. She’d also tried her best to keep as many clothes on as possible, which hadn’t been awkward at all. Right. It was just that she hadn’t wanted him to see what she looked like with her clothes off.
“What happened afterward?” Callum asked. For some reason, he sounded as if she’d been telling a sad story.
“We kept dating for a little bit longer,” she said, refusing to let him believe her life was that pathetic. “For a month more, at least. Then it faded away like some high-school relationships do.” And when he’d asked someone else to prom three months later, it hadn’t bothered her.
Really. It hadn’t. On that night, she’d had a fun time with a few friends at home, eating ice cream, chips and fast food in front of a scary-movie marathon on TV. It’d been about a week before Hannah had drowned, and after that the bingeing had just gotten worse.
Callum didn’t say anything for a moment, but then his voice came back on the phone. “Letting you go was his loss.”
She laughed. “Honestly, it was a long time ago, and it wasn’t like he was the love of my life.”
“Who was?”
She didn’t have an answer, and that sounded even sadder than the story she’d just told.
“Let’s just put it this way,” she said, walking away from the stereo and toward the fire. “I’ve always been a free agent, and I like my status.” She took a quick swig of wine before wrapping one arm over her chest as she stared into the flames.
“Good,” he said simply.
“Good?”
“I don’t believe in being tied down, either, anymore. Life’s too short.”
Anymore? What did that mean?
She started to turn around, seeing an opening to find out, but he cut her off.
“Don’t think that you’re going to get a story out of me, Leigh.”
“Oh, come on, just one tiny anecdote? Something from high school, college? A disastrous-date story to amuse me?”
“I’m afraid that my stories aren’t so amusing.”
It was as if a knife had slashed the invisible screen between them, reminding her that this wasn’t your average date, and he wasn’t your average man.
And God help her, but that intrigued her more than ever.
She stared at the darkness above her, thinking that she saw some movement—a hand reaching up to push back some hair?
Then the image was gone.
Her heart jarred in her chest, but she calmed it, shaking her head and drinking more wine.
Then she lightly said into the phone, “Not knowing who you are is going to dog me, you know. Was that your intention? To frustrate the hell out of me even after this date?”
“Never.” The word was loaded, as if he’d just made some sort of decision. He sounded distant for some reason. “I don’t intend to frustrate you.”
“I’m only joking with you, Callum, but I have to wonder.... I’m not sure there’s anywhere to go from, well, what we just did.” A more immediate version of phone sex. “I doubt there’s much mileage in only watching me all night.”
“I could watch you for...” He stopped.
What had he been about to say? He could watch her for hours? Days? Why did she think that he might’ve even been about to say “forever”?
That was ridiculous, though. He didn’t know her and she didn’t know him, at least not well enough so that she could guess his identity from his voice or his taste in rental mansions. The only interest he had in her was for one or two dates.
Even so, her stomach fell a bit at the thought that this would be over soon.
She listened to the music a little longer, and when she glanced back up at the railing, she could’ve sworn that he wasn’t there anymore. She didn’t know why; she just felt it.
“Why don’t you come to the dining room?” he said over the phone.
Yup, he’d left the upper floor, because now that she was paying more attention, she couldn’t hear that faint echo of his real voice anymore. It was all phone.
She made her way out of the room, going to the long table set with bone china, a bottle of chilled French Chardonnay by her plate beside a corkscrew. A warmed bowl of his shrimp linguine awaited, along with a salad that he must’ve stored in the refrigerator.
So he had sneaked off at some point, and he’d done it because he wanted to put the food on the table.
“Damn,” she said as she sat in the same chair that she had last night. “Seems I just missed you.”
“Seems you did.” He sounded pumped, as if the risk of being caught had turned him on.
He didn’t have to tell her to help herself to the offerings. She knew the drill by now.
And she wished this wouldn’t be the last strange date with the man who’d somehow become more than a basket date to her.
WHEN LEIGH OPENED the door to the hotel room she was sharing with Margot, her friend hopped out of her bed, pushing her computer from her lap and throwing off her covers.
She didn’t even have to ask—she just gave Leigh a wide-eyed look.
“You totally did it with him,” she said. “Oh, my God, Leigh. You had sex with the Phantom!”
Leigh almost gave in to the urge to lead Margot on just for the fun of it but didn’t. “There was no sex involved. Not the regular kind anyway.”
“What?”
It was pretty satisfactory when Leigh meandered toward the bathroom and Margot chased her down. There’d been so many times in the past when the tables had been turned, and now who had the exciting life?
Actually, life had been exciting up until the moment she had walked out Callum’s door and gotten into the waiting limo. She hadn’t been expecting any miracles tonight, like seeing him step out of the shadows to reveal his identity, but she’d at least wanted...
What? A meaningful connection with a man who’d never asked her for more than fun and games?
“Leigh, you’d better answer me,” Margot said, pulling up behind her as Leigh flipped on the bathroom light. “Do you know what I’ve been doing this whole time? Making last-minute arrangements for Dani’s surprise wedding party get-together next week at the ranch.” A bunch of sorority sisters were gathering to work on reception plans, unbeknownst to Dani. Any excuse for a party. “Oh,” Margot added, “I almost forgot that I was also obsessing about what was happening on your second date. Spill! What do you mean that you kind of had sex with him?”
Leigh shrugged, grinning as she rested her phone on the counter and then fetched an elastic band out of her beauty bag, whipping her hair off her shoulders and into the kind of no-fuss do she normally wore. Then, still taxing Margot’s patience, she walked toward the tub, running the water and adding the sweet-smelling gel the hotel had provided.
“Excuse me?” Margot said.
“I’m just taking a bath. I’ve never really put aside time to do that, you know? But I’m in the mood to be a Calgon girl.” She wanted to relax, have some alone time, think about Callum. She was still worked up, damn it. Unfulfilled.
“So that’s it?” Margot threw up her hands, cuffing the sides of her button-down nightshi
rt in the process. “You’re going radio silent on me?”
Leigh began to unbutton her sweater, and Margot gave a frustrated sound, then walked out, half shutting the door behind her, just like in college when they’d roomed together. God knew how many bathroom chats they’d had while one of them would shower and the other one would put on makeup or fix her hair just outside the door. Margot had never minded stripping down in front of others, but Leigh? She’d never dared.
Times, they had a-changed. Thinking of how far she’d gone tonight, Leigh took off her clothes while Margot said, “Okay. I get it. You’re punishing me for keeping the whole book contract thing to myself, and because I didn’t tell you about my fling with Clint right away.”
“No, I’m not.” She turned off the water, then got into the tub. The bubbles surrounded her, tickling her chin as she sank into luxury.
“Then you just want to keep everything to yourself. I understand.”
Maybe she’d tortured Margot enough. “Just come in here, Marg.”
Margot hesitated. And why not, when Leigh had never allowed anyone to get within range whenever she was undressed?
Her friend crept into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet seat, giving Leigh the raised eyebrow. Was she wondering what was up with the newfound “you can be in here when I’m nekid” attitude?
Negligently flicking some bubbles with her thumb and index finger, Leigh grinned. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He knew just what to say to me.” How to make the woman come out in her, and how to make her touch herself in all the right places.
“Did he reveal his identity?”
“No.”
“But you kind of had sex with him.”
“Sort of?”
“Leigh, you’re driving me ding-dong here.”
“All right, we’ll start from the beginning. Let’s just say that after I got to his place, I took a walk on the deserted beach and talked with him on a phone he gave me.”
Margot crossed her arms over her chest. “And that’s when he said ‘all the right words’ to you. He sweet-talked you the whole night?”
Mystery Date Page 7
