Bad Boys In Black Tie

by Erin McCarthy; Morgan Leigh Lori Foster

  “Why would I?” she asked, when what she really wanted to say was, Get on with it.

  “We’re good friends.” Slowly, Pete leaned down and touched his mouth to hers. A tender, almost loving kiss. Not sexual so much as emotional. It confused and elated her.

  Between soft, small kisses to her lips, her chin, her throat, he whispered, “Very good friends. I value that. You’re important to me. I don’t want things to get ... weird between us.”

  Meaning he didn’t want her to start getting clingy. She understood that. To a freewheeler like Pete, she must seem like a complete stick-in-the-mud. The sensible part of her brain nagged at her, saying it wasn’t too late to back out before she got hurt. But she’d been sensible all her life and damn it, she was lonely.

  Eventually they’d part ways. In a year, two at the most, she’d have enough money saved, and enough experience, to open her own sports center. She couldn’t see Pete working for her, so their friendship would likely wane. She hated that reality, even as she accepted it.

  He was interested now. She was more than interested. For once she snuffed her sensible thoughts and went for broke.

  Cupping his face, she held him back. Her fingers sank into the cool, silky thickness of his dark hair while her thumbs stroked his cheeks, luxuriating in the rasp of beard stubble, the lean hardness of his jaw. Cassidy smiled at him. It wasn’t easy and her lips felt stiff, but she managed it. “I have long-term goals, Pete. You know that, just as you know how determined I am. I’m not going to throw all my plans into the wind just because we sleep together.”

  He looked far too serious and solemn. “Cassidy. . .”

  “Shhh.” She leaned up and took his mouth, loving his taste, even loving him a little. “I want you. I think you want me.”

  “You know I do.”

  She let out a breath. “We’re both adults, both available, and as you said, we’re friends. I trust you, more than any other guy I know. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

  He ducked his head, and for one agonizing moment, Cassidy thought he was going to pull away. Then he moved to her side and put his hand on her belly. “I guess it’ll have to be.”

  She had no idea what he meant by that, but his fingers were on her bare skin, teasing her abdomen before dipping under the waistband of her flannel pants. His baby finger tickled her navel, making her muscles pull tight in reaction.

  Pete leaned over her and took her mouth, somehow making a mere kiss so much more—deeper, hotter, more intimate. She was still assimilating the wonder of that when his fingers pressed lower, into her panties, then tangled with her pubic hair.

  Against her mouth, he said, “No, don’t stiffen up.” His fingers felt hot, calloused. “I’m sorry if I’m rushing things, but I’m dying to touch you.”

  Dying to touch her. Cassidy sighed and parted her legs a bit. She wanted him to touch her. Everything about this felt magical: his delicious scent surrounding her, the heat of his muscled body pressed all along her side. The gentle, careful way his hands moved over her.

  With his hand still cupping her mound, Pete rose on one elbow. “Look at me, Cass.”

  It was a struggle to get her heavy eyes open and focused on his face. Their labored breaths seemed to find a matching rhythm. Pete stared at her, his eyes smoldering, intense, and his fingers parted her, gently stroking, easing—he sank one finger deep inside her.

  She didn’t mean to, but Cassidy pressed her head back into the mattress, closing her eyes to hold in the sensations.

  Pete went still. “Open your eyes, honey. Come on, look at me.”

  She panted, struggled to get control of herself, and finally, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, met his gaze.

  “You’re already wet.” He looked at her mouth, smiled. “Don’t bite your lip. Ease up. That’s it. Now how does that feel?” He pressed in, pulled back.

  There were no words, so Cassidy just nodded.

  “Good?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her hips against him and groaned. “Very good. But not enough.”

  “Does this help?” He pushed a second finger into her. “Damn, you’re tight.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Come on, Cassidy,” he tempted softly. “Keep your eyes open. Let me watch you, let me see what you feel.” He pulled his fingers out, slowly pressed them back in, out, back in. “You can move your hips with me.”

  Because she couldn’t not move, she did.

  Groaning, Pete said, “Yeah, like that.” He ducked his head and captured her nipple, suckling, tonguing. Sucking hard.

  Whenever Cassidy had thought about sex with Pete—and she’d thought of it a lot—it hadn’t been like this, with them both dressed, him more so than her, and lying on her bed with him doing things to her. She’d imagined it being a reciprocal event, her touching him and kissing him and ogling him in the buff.

  “Pete, please.”

  As if her words snapped him out of a daze, he sat up in a rush. “Let’s get rid of this, okay?” He peeled her shirt completely off her, then his own.

  Oh wow. Cassidy stared at his bare chest, lightly furred in dark hair, taut with muscle, wide and hard. If the sports center would change its policy about wearing polo shirts, they’d get more customers. Women would flock in to see Pete in nothing more than shorts, she was sure of it. When she got her own place, she’d talk him into letting her use him for a poster.

  “Now these.”

  He reached for the waistband of her flannel pants and Cassidy was overcome with shyness. What would he think of her naked? Would he enjoy the sight of her body as much as she enjoyed his?

  “Lift your hips.”

  She gulped down her nervousness and did as he asked and, just like that, she was naked. Pete sat back beside her, looking at her body in minute detail, taking his damn time.

  She started to tremble. Despite his requests, she closed her eyes and even turned her head to the side, waiting in an agony of suspense to see what he’d say. But he didn’t say anything at all.

  She felt his breath on her belly and jerked. “Pete?”

  His lips moved over her skin; he nuzzled with his nose.

  “Pete!”

  “You smell so damn good.” He ended that statement with something of a growl and then his hands were on her upper thighs, pulling her legs open.

  Shock kept Cassidy immobile. Surely he didn’t think to—oh yeah, he did. Her head fell back again. “Pete.”

  After one hot kiss to her vulva, he slid off the side of the bed. “Keep talking to me, Cass. I like it.”

  Her eyes widened. Such an inane thing to say to her! Cassidy almost smiled, but she was too hot, too turned on, to find any real humor in the situation. And now that he’d requested it, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

  Pete kept kissing her inner thighs, easing them farther and farther apart with his forearms holding them there. When she was inelegantly sprawled, he stared down at her, his eyes half closed, his lips parted, his face flushed. His expression very intent, he moved closer, closer. Moaning, he sank his strong fingers into her tender thighs, and stroked his tongue into her.

  For Cassidy, it was as much the idea of what he did, as the physical feel of it, that had her ready to explode. No one had ever kissed her there. The few dates she’d had that resulted in sex had been perfunctory and unsatisfactory. The men had rushed to get her naked, rushed to get inside, then rushed to leave.

  Pete didn’t seem to be in a rush at all. In fact, in that moment, he rumbled, “I could do this all night.”

  She didn’t think she could take it all day.

  “Talk to me, honey. Do you like this?” His tongue moved over her swollen lips, pressed deep inside.

  “Yes.”

  “And this?” He stabbed with his tongue, short, quick strokes.

  A quaking had started deep inside her, radiating out to her legs, making her lungs constrict, her heart thunder. She choked, “Yes.”

  “And how about ... this.” Very gen
tly, he closed his mouth over her clitoris and flicked with his tongue and Cassidy knew she was lost.

  “Yes, yes, yes.” The climax took her completely by surprise. She hadn’t expected it. Not so easily. Her whole body went taut and hot, shaking uncontrollably, her hips lifting and twisting against his mouth, her hands gripping the sheets tight, trying to anchor herself.

  “Oh God.” It felt like she’d die, like she’d never be the same again. Even after the crushing pleasure faded, her body continued to pulse and shiver and she still couldn’t get enough air into her lungs or any strength into her limp limbs.

  Reality swam around her, not quite within reach. She felt good, alive and sated and weak. She knew that Pete had moved, that he’d stood up, but she couldn’t seem to gather her wits. Incredible aftershocks of sensation shimmered through her.

  Then Pete was over her, his chest crushing her breasts, his hairy thighs wedging between hers. He held her face while speaking softly. “I should wait, I know it, but I can’t.” Something hard pressed against her sex. She was sensitive, still swollen, and she flinched. “Forgive me, Cassidy.”

  He thrust into her—heavy, thick, hot, and hard—and Cassidy melted in renewed pleasure. There was nothing tentative about the way Pete began moving, stroking steadily, already groaning, heat pouring off him.

  “Ah ... Christ,” he said, and grabbed her face to hold her still for his voracious kiss. He was wild, his tongue in her mouth, his body smothering hers. The hair on his chest abraded her nipples, his abdomen rubbed against her belly, her thighs ached from the unfamiliar position, and Cassidy felt the swelling eruptions start again, building, overflowing.

  She locked her ankles at the small of Pete’s back, inadvertently sending him deeper, to a spot that was almost pain, the pleasure was so fierce. Sobbing, she tried to pull her mouth away enough to breathe, but he held her too tight, too close. He drove into her faster, harder, and when he stiffened, his hips jerking, Cassidy came with him, swallowing his groan and giving him her own.

  Happiness, euphoria, cocooned her. Pete was still atop her body, their warmth sealing their damp flesh together. His breath had finally calmed in her ear and she felt him withdrawing as he lost his erection.

  “Mmm.” Lazily, she trailed her fingertips down his spine. His skin was sleek and hot, a little sweaty. “That tickles.”

  He didn’t move. “What?”

  “Your leaving me.”

  “Oh. Yeah, that happens when I get wrung out.” Sluggishly, Pete forced himself up on stiffened arms. Their gazes met, hers a little timid, his triumphant. He smiled. “You’re incredible.”

  Warmth flooded Cassidy’s face. “Thank you. You, too.”

  His attention drifted from her eyes to her mouth. “Wanna do it again?”

  Cassidy felt him growing hard once more. Her eyes widened. “But ...”

  Laughing, Pete rolled to the side of her. “In a little bit, I mean. Hell, I have to regain my strength.” He reached over and absently patted her thigh. “I know the manly thing to do would be to hightail it into the bathroom to get rid of the rubber, but I’m not sure I’d make it. You got any tissues in here or anything?”

  Cassidy stared at her ceiling, astounded by the turn of events. She, Cassidy McClannahan, the sensible one, was being queried by a gorgeous man on how to deal with a spent condom. She chuckled and forced herself upright with renewed energy. Pete was sprawled beside her, one hand on his chest, the other near her hip. His eyes were still heavy, a crooked smile still on his mouth.

  “I guess I’m stronger than you.” She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood—then staggered.

  Pete chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

  “Be right back.”

  As she headed into the hall, he said, “You’re always saying that to me.”

  It didn’t occur to Cassidy that she was naked until she stepped into the bright light of the bathroom and saw herself in the mirror. Gads. Her once-tidy braid now looked like a frayed rope. Little hairs stuck out everywhere. Cassidy jerked out the rubber band, brushed her hair, and decided against braiding it again. It’d take too long, especially considering she had a naked man in her bed.

  She wet a washcloth, wrung it out, and headed back to Pete with the small bathroom trash can in hand. She could feel her hair feathering against the bare skin of her back, reminding her of her nakedness. Now that she’d thought about being naked, she felt more self-conscious. She peeked into the bedroom, saw Pete had pushed himself up against the headboard, and knew there was no help for it. At least he was naked, too. A nice distraction, that. Trying not to look embarrassed, Cassidy waltzed in.

  Pete leered at her. “I like your hair like that. Last night, I was thinking about all that hair sliding over me while we made out.”

  Cassidy drew to a stunned halt. “You were?”

  “Yeah. What did you think about me?”

  “Ummm ...” To give herself time to formulate a safe answer, because after all, she couldn’t tell him she’d been mooning over him forever, she came in and handed him the trash can and cloth. It was an amazing thing, watching Pete peel away a condom and use the washcloth as if having an audience of one very interested woman didn’t affect him at all.

  “Cassidy?” He dropped the cloth over the side of the bed and caught her hand, tumbling her onto his chest. “Snap out of it, woman.”

  She had been watching the process rather fixedly, she realized.

  With no real assistance from her, Pete arranged her next to him, pulling one of her legs over his lap, her arm over his chest and tucking her face against his shoulder.

  The position was so comforting, but so alien, Cassidy felt stiff. “This is new to me.”

  “Yeah?” His hand smoothed her hair, her shoulder. “Do tell.”

  Not in this lifetime. “I thought it was crass to talk about stuff like that.”

  “I don’t want details.” He shuddered at the thought. “But how come this is new to you? You’re twenty-seven, right? Same as me?”

  “Yeah.” Disgruntled, she tangled her fingers in his chest hair and frowned up at him. “I didn’t say I was a virgin. I just haven’t done this much. And usually the guy didn’t stick around asking stupid questions afterward.”

  Pete seemed to be chewing that over before coming to his own conclusions. “So you’ve been with the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind? That’s pathetic.”

  She sighed and nestled closer. She could stay like this forever. “I know.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean you.” He tugged on her hair to get her face tipped up to his. “I meant the jerk who walked. What an idiot.”

  “Idiots. Plural.”

  “So how many idiots have you been with?”

  This time she gave his chest hair a tug. “That is none of your business and you know it. I haven’t asked how many women you’ve been with.”

  “You can if you want to. Like I said, we’re friends. I realized yesterday that we talk a lot. About everything.”

  Did he seriously think she wanted to tally up his conquests and converse about them? “No.”

  “I’m as comfortable with you as I am with the guys.”

  And that was supposed to reassure her? Cassidy thought about slugging him. She pulled her fist back, ready to poke him in the ribs.

  “No guys ever kissed you between the legs before, huh?”

  Oh God. Her arm fell to her side and she ducked her face against him. Maybe she could just sink into the bedding. Maybe she’d get lucky and disappear. No, Pete was still there. Still waiting.

  “Cassidy?”

  Beyond annoyed, she sat up and glared at him. “I may be new at this but I still don’t think this is normal after-sex conversation, even between very good friends.”

  “I liked it.” He grinned shamefully. “You taste good.”

  Cassidy thought her eyes might cross. He had no shame, no modesty, no understanding of the restrictions on polite conversation.

  Giving up, she fell backwa
rd on the bed and pulled a pillow over her face. Her words muffled by goose down, she said, “You’re outrageous. Will you please stop?”

  “No.” The bed dipped and shook as Pete moved. “In fact,” he said, from somewhere near her knees, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Right now.”

  Hot, moist breath touched her, obliterating all her objections—and someone knocked on her front door.

  Four

  Pete groaned at the intrusion. Where his palm rested on the inside of Cassidy’s thigh, she was warm and firm and silky. “You expecting company?”

  “No.” Cassidy removed the pillow, twisted, and looked upside down at her alarm clock. “It’s nine-thirty already.” She flopped flat again and said to Pete with evident surprise, “I thought we’d only been in here a little while.”

  Grinning, Pete squeezed her leg. His fingertips were that close to her pubic hair. “Time flies when you’re having fun.” The knock sounded again and he sighed in disappointment. “Want me to get that?”

  “Good God, no!”

  She scrambled out of the bed, gloriously bereft of clothing. Her ass was round and soft, her waist trim, her legs sleek. That long hair swung around her, caressing her back, sides, shoulders. Pete lounged back and crossed his arms behind his head, enjoying the show.

  “It could be my parents.”

  Right. June and Ward Cleaver. Pete made a face that she didn’t see. “What do you want me to do?”

  She jerked on a shirt and wrangled into her flannel pants. On her way out, she said, “Just be quiet.” She closed the door behind her.

  Pete was on his feet in a flash. He pulled the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his hips. Carefully, not making a sound, he eased out of the room and followed Cassidy down the hall. He had just peeked around the corner when Cassidy unlocked her front door and pulled it open.

  Gil stood there on her stoop with Sam beside him. “Morning, Cassidy. Did we wake you?”

  Cassidy, poor girl, pressed a hand to her chest and stared. From Pete’s vantage point, she seemed to be in shock. “Uh ...”

  Next to Gil, Sam stuck out his hand. “I’m Pete’s brother, Sam. Gil thought you might know where he is.”