A soft ping sounded from her computer, and she glanced at the screen to find that a new Instant Message had appeared for her.
TheOne4You: Hi.
She didn’t recognize the user name and was fairly certain that the other person had contacted her by mistake. Then again, she used her Instant Messaging for business to keep in quick contact with clients, and she supposed it was possible someone had changed their user name. She typed out a response to find out.
IshopForYou: Hi, yourself. Who is this?
TheOne4You: Someone you’ve known for a while now.
She frowned, curious as to why the person was being so secretive, and how he’d been able to contact her.
IshopForYou: How did you get my IM address?
TheOne4You: A mutual friend of ours. And before you ask who, I swore I wouldn’t tell the name of the person who gave me your user ID. It’s a good friend of yours, and I can assure you they wouldn’t have given it to me if I wasn’t a nice, trust-worthy kind of guy.
She smiled, undeniably intrigued.
IshopForYou: Do I know you?
TheOne4You: Yes.
IshopForYou: So, we’ve met before?
TheOne4You: Yes. But I’m not quite ready to reveal who I am. For now, let’s just say that I’m your secret admirer.
Alyssa had never had a secret admirer before, and she found the prospect of being courted by a mysterious man very sexy and exciting. She read his user name again, TheOne4You, and felt giddy deep inside.
TheOne4You: I want you to know that I’m very attracted to you and have been for some time now. I thought we could get to know one another through Instant Messaging before we meet in person . . . if that’s alright with you.
She grinned, her fingers automatically flying over the keyboard with a reply.
IshopForYou: Sort of like a blind date over the internet?
TheOne4You: Yes. But I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way.
She appreciated his concern and sincerity, which said a lot for his personality and gave her a bit of assurance that he wasn’t some deranged on-line stalker. His posts so far had been amicable, and he’d given her no reason to feel threatened in any way. With her new resolution in place, she decided she was going to enjoy a bit of flirtatious fun with her anonymous admirer.
IshopForYou: I’m fine with this, and you don’t make me feel uncomfortable at all.
TheOne4You: Good. I heard you’ll be going to Drew and Cynthia’s New Year’s Eve party. I’ll be there, too. If things work out on our on-line blind date, maybe we can meet in person there?
Alyssa absently chewed on her bottom lip. Even though that gave her four days to get to know him through emails, she wasn’t quite ready to agree to anything that personal just yet. So, instead, she gave him a non-committal reply.
IshopForYou: Maybe.
TheOne4You: Maybe is good enough for me. BTW, you have beautiful blue eyes.
Her stomach dipped at the compliment, along with the knowledge that he truly did know what she looked like. She felt at such a disadvantage.
IshopForYou: Thank you. I wish I knew what color your eyes are.
TheOne4You: Brown eyes and brown hair, just in case you were wondering.
She laughed out loud, but in her mind it was Shane’s image that appeared—brown eyes and hair and a charismatic smile just for her.
IshopForYou: Yes, I was wondering what your hair color was. You’re a mind reader, too.
TheOne4You: It’s a gift.
IshopForYou: Sure. I’d like that.
TheOne4You: Me, too. Good night and sleep well, Alyssa.
A shiver rippled through her, as if he’d whispered those words directly into her ear in low, masculine tones. She typed out her final words to him for the evening.
IshopForYou: Good night.
He signed off first, and with a soft sigh she shut down her business accounts, then her computer. After taking her plate down to the kitchen, she returned to her bedroom, changed into the comfy pajama’s Shane had bought her for Christmas and climbed into bed. She was physically exhausted, but still pumped with exhilaration after her conversation with the guy who called himself TheOne4You.
She rolled restlessly to her side and closed her eyes, wondering who he was, how she knew him, and what he looked like. He’d only given her two of his traits, and her imagination tried to fill in the blanks from there. She envisioned someone hot and sexy who had the ability to make her heart race with one glance and her body come alive with a well placed caress.
Someone like Shane.
She moaned softly in frustration and clenched her thighs tightly together. It had been a long time since any man had been able to stir any real, deep desire from her. How ironic was it that mere fantasies of Shane had the ability to give her that kind of pleasure and sense of anticipation, without him even realizing the power he had over her body and senses. And, unfortunately, he never would.
CHAPTER TWO
Shane was well aware that Alyssa was a late sleeper. Neither was she a morning person, but that didn’t stop him from arriving on her doorstep the following morning at a quarter past eight. When he didn’t get a response the first time he knocked, he tried a second time, more insistently than before, and rang the door bell a few times for good measure, as well.
Finally, he heard stumbling coming from the other side of the door and knew she was looking out the peep hole to see who the offender was. He grinned real big and held up the bribe he’d brought along to ensure that she wouldn’t turn him away. The woman was a sucker for a hot Starbucks Caffé Mocha and cream cheese Danish.
The door opened, and she narrowed her sleepy-eyed gaze at him. “You’re cruel, you know that?” she grumbled good-naturedly.
He gave her a look of mock offense. “I come bearing some of your favorite foods and you have the audacity to call me cruel?”
“It’s barely eight in the morning,” she complained, and relieved him of one of the large coffee cups he was carrying in his hands. With a grumpy frown, she shuffled into the adjoining living room, knowing he’d follow her into the apartment and shut the door behind him, which he did. “You could have at least called and given me some time to wake up before you got here.”
He rolled his eyes at that. “You would have ignored the phone.”
“Okay, you’re right.” She sat down on the couch and pushed her unruly, disheveled hair away from her face with her free hand. She wasn’t wearing an ounce of make-up, and still she looked beautiful, her complexion smooth and still flushed from slumber. “I tried to ignore the door, but you were making my head pound with all that banging.”
A huge exaggeration he didn’t bother to dispute. “Late night?” He settled in beside her and took a drink of his coffee—straight up black and strong, without anything frou-frou in it like hers.
“No, not really. Just a busy one getting all of December’s billings and statements done. But I’m pretty much caught up for the month, so I’m happy.”
And that news worked well into his plans, since he’d be spending a lot of time with her over the next few days if she agreed to help make him over into a metro-male.
Tucking her legs beneath her on the couch, she wrapped her hands around the paper cup, took a sip of her warm drink, and moaned her appreciation. Then a smile slowly curved the corners of her mouth, revealing that she was gradually waking up—at least enough to enjoy her sweetened coffee.
“Okay, I’m close to forgiving you for getting me up so damn early. This Caffé Mocha is delicious.”
“And what do I get for this cream cheese Danish?” Waggling his brows temptingly, he dangled the pastry bag just within her reach.
“How about a sincere thank you?” she asked hopefully, and licked her lips in anticipation.
He contemplated that for a moment as a dozen other arousing payments came to mind. “I guess that’s good enough for now.” He
gave her the breakfast roll, and while she took a big bite of the flaky confection, he leaned back against the sofa cushions and took in her morning attire.
“By the way, nice P.J.’s.” Nicer still was the way the top clung to her full, bare breasts, which was a bonus he hadn’t counted on when he’d bought her the pajamas.
“Yeah, my best friend has pretty good taste and knows exactly what I like.” Grinning at him, she set the Danish on the paper bag she’d smoothed out on her lap, to use as a make-shift plate so she could pull the pastry apart to eat in bites. “Nice comfy cotton.”
Oh, yeah, he’d learned long ago what her preferences were when it came to sleep wear, and when he’d walked into a department store to buy her Christmas presents a few weeks ago, he’d foregone all the racy, sheer, silk and lace night gowns and teddy’s in favor of utilitarian, full-coverage pajama’s—but not before he’d spent a few decadent moments imagining her in a couple of those wispy, barely there outfits that she insisted were more for seducing a man than any real sleeping comfort.
Yep, that was his practical, sensible Alyssa, all right.
Seriously, though, he was probably the only guy in a hundred mile radius that thought she looked down right enticing in a plain pink pajama top and a pair of striped drawstring pants that were warm ad soft and as functional as night clothes were supposed to be. There was nothing provocative about what she was wearing, but it was the whole sleepy, mussed hair, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed concept that did it for him in a major way.
“So, what brings you by at such a gawd-awful hour in the morning?” she asked, then licked the sugared glaze from her fingers in that sensual way of hers.
Heat pooled in Shane’s belly, and lower, and it was all he could do to just sit there and watch her tend to her sticky fingers, instead of taking over the job for her with his own lips and tongue. He took a drink of his strong coffee, hoping for a much needed jolt of caffeine before giving her an answer in a voice that was hopefully steadier than he felt.
“I figured out what my New Year’s resolution is going to be.”
“Yeah?” She glanced up at him, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. “Do tell.”
He inhaled a deep breath, hoping like hell that the idea he’d concocted didn’t backfire on him in any way—because her agreement to help him hinged on the success of his entire plan to make her view him as something more than just a best friend. “Seeing that you’re ready to open yourself up to the possibility of a serious relationship, I figured it’s time that I did the same thing.”
Surprise flashed in her eyes, along with another emotion he couldn’t fully define. “Really?”
He shrugged, doing his best to keep his demeanor casual and relaxed. “Actually, there’s someone I’ve been interested in for a while, but the timing hasn’t been right until now.”
A small frown formed between her brows. “Oh,” she said quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before now?”
Since they discussed just about everything, he’d been prepared for that question and his answer came from his heart. “This woman isn’t even aware of my interest in her, and I didn’t tell you about this because I didn’t think it had a chance of developing into anything significant.”
She searched his features, for what, he wasn’t sure. “And now you do?”
“I honestly don’t know, but it’s time I put myself out there like you’re going to do and find out where things stand between us,” he said, choosing his words carefully so he didn’t give anything away—like the fact that she was the woman he was after. “If it’s not what I thought it was and the feelings aren’t reciprocated, then at least I know I tried.”
She nodded and glanced away, instead of offering him her opinion on the matter like he’d given her last night at his restaurant when she’d told him about her plans for the New Year. Instead, a strange silence descended in the room as she took a drink of her coffee. He wished he knew what was really going through that mind of hers. Normally he could read her expression fairly well, but not so today, and that lack of insight frustrated him to no end.
Setting her paper cup on the end table beside the couch, she pulled apart a chunk of her Danish, popped the piece into her mouth, then cast him a speculative glance. “So, who is this mystery woman?”
He paused, but knew there was no easy way to answer that question, either. “I’d rather not say. At least not yet.”
Her delicate brows arched high, but not before he’d witnessed the spark of hurt that flashed in her gaze because he wasn’t willing to share something so monumental with her. “That serious, huh?”
“No. Not at all,” he said gently. “I just want to get used to the idea of finally making my feelings known to this woman before I tell anyone who she is.”
“I understand,” she said, but he could tell by her quiet tone and the way she wouldn’t meet his gaze again that she didn’t understand at all. Because she wasn’t just anyone.
God, he hated being so secretive with her, but it was necessary. In a few days she’d look back on this conversation and realize his reasons for being so vague and hopefully forgive him for being so closed mouth about the woman in question.
“Now that I’ve decided to go for it, so to speak,” he went on, attempting to add some humor to break up the odd tension between them. “I need your help with something.”
“Sure. Anything. You know that.” She gave him only a semblance of her normally sunny smile.
“This woman is going to be at Drew and Cynthia’s New Year’s Eve party, and I really want to make a good impression since that’s when I plan to let her know how I feel about her.” Again, Alyssa glanced away, focusing more on the Danish on her lap to keep from looking at him. Or so it seemed. “I was hoping you could help me spruce up my image a bit. You know, make me look more like one of those clean-cut executives you date.”
That snagged her attention, and she cut her gaze to his. “Is that what she’s into?”
“Seems to be.” He spread his arms out wide, indicating his casual, every day attire. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give my current wardrobe an overhaul so I look more presentable for the party, like trading in my jeans for a pair of nice slacks or khaki’s, and my cotton tee’s for some dress shirts and ties. And my hair could definitely use a trim.”
When she didn’t reply, he stretched his arm along the back of the couch and brushed back the hair that had fallen over her shoulder, loving the way those soft strands wrapped themselves around his long fingers, ensnaring him in more ways than one. His knuckles grazed the side of her neck, and he felt her shiver from his touch.
Something was very wrong. He didn’t know exactly what, but he could feel her subtle withdrawal. More than she’d ever displayed with him before, and he got the distinct feeling that her emotional retreat ran deeper than just the issue of him not telling her about this “other woman” before today. There was more going on in that beautiful head of hers, he was sure.
He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “Are you okay, Alyssa?”
As if realizing how silent and pensive she’d become, she shook off her mood. “Of course. I’m fine. Just great.” Her voice rang with false, unconvincing certainty, and did nothing to reassure him. “This just seems so sudden, that’s all. But of course I’ll help you out. We could even go shopping for new clothes today and hit some really good after Christmas sales, and I’ll see if my hair dresser can fit you in for an appointment for a cut and trim sometime tomorrow.”
“That would be perfect.” He smiled, relieved to have finally gained her cooperation, because convincing her to help him had been iffy there for a while. “Consider me yours for the next two days.”
She shoved the last bite of Danish into her mouth, and a large crumble fell on to her t-shirt, coming to rest right on the upper swell of her breast. She seemed completely unaware of the mess she’d made, until he reached over and picked up the morsel for himself. He deliberately let his touch linger on the soft, voluptuous
curve of her breast a bit longer than was friendly, and his fingers lightly grazed the nipple that had automatically tightened from that forbidden caress.
Her eyes grew round at the intimate contact, her sweet, moist lips parted, and she sucked in a startled breath.
Pleased and fascinated that he’d gotten such a promising response out of Alyssa, he popped the piece of Danish into his mouth and winked at her. “Ummm, good stuff,” he murmured huskily—and could have been referring to the pastry, or the way her soft breast had felt against his fingers. Like pure, unadulterated heaven.
What had just transpired between them could have been construed as innocent fun—he’d certainly touched her before in playful situations—but much to Shane’s own surprise he watched her cheeks flush and her eyes darken with desire. His own body responded with a jolt of sizzling awareness. Time seemed to stand still as he slowly dropped his gaze to her lush, kissable mouth, and thought of all the erotic pleasure to be had between those soft, tempting lips.
Abruptly, she stood, shattering the intimate moment and leaving him to wonder if he’d just imagined the liquid heat in her gaze, the wanting . . .
But then she turned around to face him, and he saw the residual longing still remaining in her eyes and the pulse beating wildly at the base of her throat, and knew what he’d seen and felt between them had been very real.
And it was just as obvious to him that she wanted to pretend like it never happened.
Self-consciously, she tugged at the hem of her pajama top, which only served to stretch the cotton fabric tighter over her peaked nipples—which he was sure she hadn’t meant to do. Then she shifted anxiously on her feet, her gaze darting from him, to something over his shoulder. Anywhere but at him.
“I’m, uh, going to go and take a shower and change, and then we’ll go shopping.” She bolted from the room as if the devil himself were nipping at her heels.
Guilty Pleasures: A Collection of 3 Super Sexy Novellas Page 5
