She wondered if she should mention her new branch of experimentation to Jane but decided not to. She’d had enough shocks for one day.
She settled for a mild, “I don’t know.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, I don’t. He’s egotistical and rude. He was condescending. He said with a body like mine I’d never be mistaken for a rocket scientist.” Indignation sounded in her voice at the memory.
Jane lost it. She doubled over, laughing. “Get out of town! He said that? He really said that? Oh, my God, he must have died. Didn’t he know who you were?”
A wry smile quirked Anna’s lips. “Evidently not.”
Jane laughed again. “So, aside from not being very quick on the uptake, he’s a great dancer and obviously a great kisser. Take notes on lunch and let me know how he scores.”
“Sure,” Anna agreed. “Now, maybe we should do something really revolutionary, like get to work.”
“Yes, boss,” Jane smirked. “Wouldn’t want you to be late leaving for lunch.”
They both burst out laughing again.
As Anna gathered up her fallen books, she sobered. Once again, the gap between theory and practice was evident. She’d seen French kisses on the big screen, read descriptive narrative, heard Jane’s blow-by-blow accounts of steamy dates. But none of that had prepared her for the awesome sensation of Jay’s heated mouth on hers, his tongue curling around hers.
Were all kisses like that? It was really a problem, not having anything to compare it to. Every experiment she’d ever conducted had had a baseline, a control. Something to gauge the results by.
Maybe she should have asked Tom, the limo driver, to kiss her. Aesthetically, the two men were equally attractive. Theoretically, kissing them should be equally enjoyable. Unless there were factors she wasn’t taking into consideration.
Well, in spite of her ignorance and inexperience, she hadn’t done too badly. Jay had said she was good.
From the way he talked, he should know.
The real question was, to Anna’s way of thinking, was he good?
And if he wasn’t, how could she tell?
Maybe she’d find some hints in her new books. Meanwhile, she should follow her own advice and get to work.
And she could practice more kissing at lunch. One important key to research was the ability to repeat a test. If the results couldn’t be duplicated predictably, they didn’t mean anything. Anna figured that if he could kiss her again and cause her to lose track of time, knock over objects unnoticed, raise her body temperature by at least a full degree and speed up her heart rate to an aerobic workout level, she still wouldn’t know how good he was at kissing, comparatively, but she’d know that was normal for him, at least.
Anna wondered if she should start a file and document her new line of research. No, maybe not. She was exploring and discovering her own sexuality and she really didn’t think something called “Anna Does Anything” should be put to paper.
At least she’d learned that she could do whatever she decided to put her mind to and do it well, including, it seemed, French kissing. Also the fine art of saying decidedly unsweet nothings. And then there was her masterful demonstration of social self-defense on the dance floor.
All in all, she thought she was making speedy progress.
And she’d learned that she didn’t have to particularly like a man to like kissing him, which came as a surprise.
Or was she being unfair? She really didn’t know Jay Whitman well enough to like or dislike him. He was mouthy and obnoxious but he was also oddly innocent about it. She really didn’t think he’d meant to hurt her with any of the things he’d said.
If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that it was hard to dislike someone who admired her for stomping on his foot. In fact, he seemed to just plain admire her, no matter what she did.
Anna paused to consider his good points.
He did dance really, really well.
He didn’t seem intimidated by either her brains or her beauty.
She’d liked kissing him.
So, he did have some redeeming features but if she was going to experiment with dating and get some experience, she couldn’t have him running around claiming they were an item, either.
She’d set him straight at lunch, Anna decided.
Unfortunately, that turned out to be easier to decide than to do.
Anna mentally added “bullheaded” to his long list of faults.
First of all, he breezed back into her office as if he belonged there and it didn’t even seem to occur to him that he could be interrupting anything. He seemed to think his presence overrode any other claims on her attention that anyone might have.
He draped himself over Anna’s desk, looking like he’d come to take her away from all her labors, and wasn’t she thrilled to see him?
She wasn’t, actually. She thought she was on to something and didn’t want to be interrupted.
But he was impossible to ignore.
“Hey, hot stuff, are you ready to go?” He eyed her up and down with obvious lust that apparently wasn’t thwarted by the bulky lab coat she wore over jeans and a knit shirt.
“Don’t call me ‘hot stuff’,” Anna returned.
“Hey, if the shoe fits…” he winked, the smug knowledge of their shared kisses blatantly open on his face.
Anna felt her face begin to burn and cursed her pale redhead complexion.
“You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. No wonder you have all those signs.” He waved at the multitude of warnings posted to declare the presence of highly flammable, combustible materials.
Jay traced the outline of her lips with one lazy finger as he remarked, “Dangerous.”
Then, without warning, he replaced his finger with his mouth and planted another hot, hard kiss on her unprepared lips.
While she was still off balance from that, he hauled her to her feet, grabbed her purse and hustled her out the door.
“Come on, passion flower, lunch awaits.”
Before she knew it, she found herself stuffed into a soft leather bucket seat and sped away to an unknown destination where, presumably, food could be found.
“Stop calling me all those names. I have a name,” she informed him firmly, determined to take control of the situation.
“I know. Anna. Anna, the beautiful.” He winked at her again as he rhapsodized over her name.
“Just ‘Anna’ will do.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Jay mused. “Pet names are a way of showing affection. I feel very affectionate toward you.” Heavy innuendo accompanied his breezy declaration and he captured her hand to nibble on her palm.
“I noticed.” But the sour tone of her voice evidently bounced off him as he continued to shower her with affection whether she wanted it or not.
“Stop that,” she finally snapped and dragged her hand away.
He gave her a disappointed look.
“You don’t find hands an erogenous zone? Okay, I’ll start with your feet next time.”
Anna sighed. “No, you won’t.”
“No feet either? You’re a real challenge. I guess I’ll have to start with your back, then. Lots of nerve centers there,” Jay stated enthusiastically. “Then I’ll work my way around to your—”
“Keep your verbal hands to yourself,” Anna muttered. The whole conversation was ridiculous.
“But I can’t use my real hands,” he pointed out. “I’m driving.”
This just wasn’t going to work, Anna realized in dismay. No matter what she said, it just sailed directly over his swollen head. The man had to have an ego the size of Texas.
While she fumed internally, they arrived at the restaurant.
There wasn’t a wait. They were led promptly to a quiet corner table and seated. Jay proceeded to play footsies with her under the cover provided by the tablecloth.
Anna glared at him.
Jay smiled at her.
“Aren’t you concerned a
bout the safety of your feet?” Anna asked in annoyance.
“Nope. You aren’t wearing heels.” He scanned the lunch menu left by the hostess. “What sounds good to you? Do you like seafood? Salads?”
So he didn’t see her as a threat without heels? Anna hauled off and delivered a solid kick to his shin as she replied, “Oh, I have varied tastes.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Far from discouraged, he looked intrigued. “I look forward to helping you experiment.”
Then again, Anna reflected, it seemed that all paths led to the same destination in his mind. No matter what she said he’d find a sexual meaning in it. No matter how deep he had to dig to do it.
“In food,” she clarified.
“I’ve heard of things you can do with food.” He sounded even more interested and ready to try them all.
Anna sighed again and was rescued by the waitress coming to take their order.
The worst thing, she realized, was that his constant references to sex, combined with her sudden interest in the subject and the memory of the exciting discovery of the wonders of French kissing, had her wondering if she should take him up on his offer to help her in her research.
He had offered, of his own free choice. She’d admitted she did need some experience. If he was even half as able as his constant bragging implied, he was certainly well qualified to provide her with some. Although it sounded heartlessly clinical.
Still, the physical and emotional didn’t have to go together, did they? And it wasn’t as if he was offering her his heart and soul. It was his body he was apparently dying to give her.
And no shabby offer, either, Anna realized. She let her eyes roam over him as thoroughly as he had eyed her. Clothes could hide a lot but she thought he was fairly athletic, judging from his dancing demonstration. He couldn’t be too badly out of shape. Also, that he was fully equipped and ready to proceed had been distinctly obvious.
She did remember his happiness at meeting her.
No, he wouldn’t have any problem performing.
All in all, he looked like one long, tall specimen of masculinity wrapped in an expensive business suit.
With a very nice tie.
She hadn’t noticed before but the silk, patterned in a swirling paisley with blues and greens, did a lot for his rather dramatic monochrome coloring, extended by the neutral gray suit and white shirt.
He was an attractive man, in a chisel-featured, satanic sort of way. And his little-boy charm gave him an added edge of innocence and danger.
He was obnoxious.
He couldn’t be trusted.
He’d probably try to find some way to turn her new line of research to his advantage.
But he was, all around, a good candidate for her introduction to the pleasures of the flesh.
Now, how did she determine if he was all talk or if he was genuinely an enthusiastic explorer of any erotic discoveries with a gift in seeking out erogenous zones?
The arrival of lunch gave Anna something else to think about and she thankfully busied herself with her grilled chicken salad.
But when Jay started toying with her feet again, she decided not to kick him.
Chapter Five
“Is that as good as it looks?”
The plaintive question, combined with the wistful eyes fixed on Anna’s chicken salad, were a clear hint that Jay wanted to find out the only possible way—by firsthand experience.
Anna could understand that. She’d been increasingly interested in expanding her firsthand experiences, too.
And she doubted that the question was prompted by dissatisfaction with his own lunch. The corned beef sandwich on rye bread looked tempting enough. So did the crisp french fries.
No, from the way his foot was insinuating itself between both of hers, there was only one thing on his lecherous mind and it wasn’t salad.
He wanted her to feed him a bite.
This was probably one of those things he’d heard about doing with food and wanted to try. It sounded a lot less messy and far safer than something she’d heard about doing with whipped cream. So Anna forked up a bite of succulent chicken and offered it to him.
His eyes gleamed in approval and he took the bite slowly off her fork, taking time to enjoy the full flavor.
“Not bad,” he said finally. “Not as good as your hand, but not bad.”
He would remind her about his affectionate hand-kissing. Obnoxious man. Still, Anna thought she was coming to appreciate his potential usefulness. There was also the fact that when his lips were busy kissing, they were blessedly silent. Something worth considering seriously.
“It’s going to cost you a french fry,” Anna declared. She thought it was time for her to push back a little. She’d enjoyed feeding him. It wasn’t the heady, overwhelming sensation produced by his skillful kissing, but still a pleasant sensation nonetheless. Being fed by him just might be enjoyable, too.
Jay selected a fry for her and fed it to her. One finger brushed a trace of salt from the corner of her mouth when she finished.
“Like it?”
The smoldering heat in the ebony depths of his eyes told her exactly what he was asking.
“Mmm. I’m not sure. Maybe you should try another one,” Anna suggested finally, as if making up her mind.
He offered her another salty fry and she couldn’t resist pushing him a little further. She parted her lips just enough to admit the fry and slid her mouth down over it almost to the point that his fingers held it at. Then she slid back up a teasing bit before biting it off.
Jay retaliated by slipping a foot free of one shoe and running it from between her ankles up to push her knees apart.
Startled, Anna tightened her knees to keep him from going any further.
Above the table, he reached for her hands with both of his and captured them in a warm hold. She looked from his hands to his face and found herself caught by the intensity of his gaze.
“Don’t be afraid of me.”
The earnest tone was a surprise to her. Almost as much of a surprise as his suddenly serious expression.
“I’m not afraid,” Anna replied. “I’m not sure about this. I think you’re going too fast.”
Jay didn’t think he was going nearly fast enough. She had to know what she was doing to him. She’d tied him up in sweet knots with her first look across a crowded room. She’d stood close enough to burn him with her heat and verbally sparred with him in a spicy exchange that only made him hungry for more.
After she’d bitten his earlobe and moaned, “More. Deeper. I want you now, Jay,” she could tell him he was going too fast? He didn’t think so.
And then there was that kiss.
He burned just thinking about it, her honeyed lips and the incredible womanly softness even a lab coat couldn’t hide. He’d felt it against him when she danced with him and he’d felt it under him when he kissed her on her desk.
It wasn’t enough. He ached to touch her. He held her still with his firm grip on her hands and moved his foot sensuously against her knees.
“Nobody can see,” he said with warm persuasion. “We’re just another business couple having lunch. Nothing unusual about that. We’re perfectly ordinary. Except for your lab coat, that does kind of stick out.” The teasing note at the end failed to coax a smile from her.
Jay kept slowly stroking her legs with his foot. “Come on, beautiful. Relax. I’m only going to touch you with my toes.”
Anna met his eyes steadily while she considered his suggestion. He was right, nobody could see anything under their table. Even if the room had been crowded, they were at the wrong angle in their corner for visibility. Added to that, the draping tablecloths would have hidden a lot more than a game of footsies.
The real question was, did she want him to go any further?
She wasn’t sure. The light patterns his foot drew on her thighs felt good. Warm and pleasurable. She could carry the test a little further and see if she continued to enjoy it. If she d
idn’t, she could stop him at any time, heels or no heels.
Anna made a decision and parted her knees to let his wayward foot slide further.
He didn’t rush. He made his slow, steady way to the junction of her thighs and nestled there, very gently but firmly. He settled his foot snugly against her.
It felt warm, Anna decided. Warm and welcome. The gentle pressure he created as he slowly shifted the length of his foot against her gradually recreated the same tingling sensation his velvet tongue sliding over and around hers had. And the same heated hunger for more.
When he slowly withdrew his foot, she immediately missed the pressure and the warmth.
Jay smiled at her. “I think I found an erogenous zone you like.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, yes. But I really think you ought to keep an open mind about hands and feet,” he answered solemnly. Then he gestured at her to eat but kept one of her hands trapped in his while they continued with the meal.
As if to prove his point, he traced circles and lines all over the sensitive surface of her palm, fingers and wrist, which produced the same phenomena of raised body temperature, increased heart rate and loss of time-sense as his hot, deep kisses.
Anna concluded that the mouthy playboy wasn’t all talk. He was, in fact, an expert. He probably knew erogenous zones and erotic techniques, what a g-spot was and how to find hers.
He was a gold mine of knowledge and practical experience of the very hands-on variety and if anyone could bring her up to speed, he could.
Anna polished off her salad in a fog of sensual anticipation.
She wanted to make up for lost time. Lost play. Lost experiences. She wanted to try everything and do the fun things twice. She didn’t want to grow old regretting all the chances never taken, all the hours not fully lived.
She didn’t want to look back at this moment and wonder what would have happened next, if only.
If only she’d dared. If only she’d boldly asked for what she wanted.
And right now, she wanted to find out what would happen if he played with every inch of her body the way he was playing with her hand.
When Sparks Fly: Love and Rockets Page 6
