Words seemed superfluous. The afternoon was young. He had no compunction about staying in bed with her for the next three weeks.
Maybe forever. They hadn't even started. He didn't want to stop.
Donna…
Nothing hidden now, everything about her as delicious as he had envisioned, wicked, willing, giving, her body pliant, welcoming, hot, tight.
Perfect.
His.
He touched her mouth. Yes, and the realization of those fantasies would come.
Her eyes glimmering, she took his finger in her mouth and sucked it and his body jolted to attention.
"You can't do that, you know, without consequences," he whispered.
"Really?" She moved her hand downward, to the root of him, encircling him and squeezing— hard. "What a hard taskmaster you are."
"I think I'm up to it." He rolled over her, nudging her, sliding himself up and down her body while he flicked her lips with tiny wet kisses. "I fell for your mouth, did you know? Every time I saw you, you were licking or sucking on something chocolate."
"I bet you taste better than chocolate," she whispered, winding herself around him and shimmying her hips to entice him in. He surged into her so hard, so deep, it left her breathless. And he held her there so inexorably for so long, her body spasmed, and in the backwash of that pleasure, she said; "I think— maybe— I'll just have to find out."
Donna in his shirt, wandering around the apartment, drinking a glass of juice, picking up a brass paperweight here, a book there, trailing her magic fingers all over his possessions, claiming them, he thought, and he didn't mind that at all.
She looked at the clock on his desk. It was four o'clock, and already responsibility weighed on her mind. Jess would be going crazy. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to leave him. She wanted more sex.
"I'm not going anywhere," Matt said lazily. "Come back to bed."
"I think I should go to the office."
"Everything can wait." He looked down at himself. "Except me."
"I'd feel better if I did—"
"Call her."
"Really. There are things pending."
"I'm pending."
She flashed him that wicked smile. "Some things can be put on hold."
"Exactly. Come and hold me."
Oh, she felt a swamping rush of pure desire for him. He was gorgeous, the length and breadth of him, and there was nothing more she wanted than to give in, give up, and spend the rest of the day and night with him.
How far she'd come. And how light and sweet and tender this was; she almost couldn't believe it. She was afraid to believe it. This wasn't the way it had been before.
But she wasn't going to let any thought of that intrude.
"How about… I'll spend an hour in the office and then come back— with a treat?"
"It sounds like you're bribing your dog," Matt said suspiciously. "What kind of treat?"
"My treat. Come on, you probably have to check in with Dan and take care of some crisis or another. I won't feel easy unless I'm sure there's nothing that needs to be taken care of today."
Well, he knew that about her. He admired it, that attention to detail, that care and concern. But a naked man who was roused to a fever pitch didn't particularly care about those niceties. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it.
And he wanted her— again.
He was amazing, she thought. He made her feel buoyant and free.
"I'm going to go," she said, purposefully avoiding the bed. "And I'll be back soon."
"I'm not moving."
"I hope not," Donna said fervently as she rooted around for her clothes with shaking hands. A naked man waiting in bed for her… the thought of it just took her breath, away. Why was she leaving him?
Oh, yes, the almighty business.
She leaned over him when she was fully dressed, and she ran her hand up and down the length of his arousal. "Don't forget me. And this will motivate me to get back that much sooner."
And maybe what she really needed was some space. The afternoon had been so intense, she hadn't had a moment to examine how she felt.
Oh, stop it. You know how you feel. You're scared to fall for him, and you won't admit you capitulated weeks ago.
Probably.
She cabbed back uptown.
"Hey, Jess…!" she called jauntily as she entered the office. Angie handed her her messages. The topmost one was from Matt: "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
She got weak at the thought.
"Jess…?"
"I'm coming." A minute later, Jess emerged into the reception room. "Long lunch," she commented, with a thinly veiled suggestiveness.
"Mmm."
"Talked a lot, did you?"
"Couldn't stop. Anything up? Everything taken care of?"
"You want a hall pass?"
Donna looked at her sharply. "What's up?"
"Dan called." She grabbed Donna's hands. "Oh, Jess— I really think it's going to work. He's wonderful; it's wonderful— and it's because of all your good advice. So you do think I could have some time for my own lingering lunches?"
"You've got it," Donna said. But that was good news. She slanted a troubled look at Jess. "What else?"
Jess took a deep breath. "We've got a visitor."
"As opposed to a potential client?"
"Mm-hmmm."
"Who?"
"Paul."
That one word sent everything inside her crashing. "Okay. I guess he wants to see me."
"I guess he does. I've just been trying to keep him entertained, but he's not the kind of guy who likes small talk."
"No." Damn, damn, damn. This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. "All right." She girded herself. "I'll see him."
It wasn't that large an office that Paul wasn't aware that she had returned. He was already at the door of Jess's office.
"Donna, you're looking well."
She said the obvious. "You, too, Paul. Why don't you come into my office?"
She led the way, signaled Jess that she should leave, and then positioned herself behind her desk and folded her hands. Calm. Cool. In control. Looking at him as if he were a potential client instead of the man she'd loved with such obsessive passion four years ago.
He hadn't changed either. He'd always had a presence because of his height and the laser gaze of his cobalt blue eyes, and that, combined with his dark good looks and his invariable choice of dark blue or black suits, made him stand out in a crowd wherever he went.
She wondered what he saw, looking at her. Certainly she had changed. She was more conservative, more reserved, less likely to act on her impulses now, although this afternoon had not been a prime example of that.
Everything about her was less flamboyant than he would have remembered, and more restrained, so she wondered what he thought he would find, coming to see her like this.
She had loved him. She felt that pain somewhere in the recesses of her memory when she looked at him. They'd had wild, crazy sex, but it had not been without its frustrations. He'd had her complete adoration, without his having to give anything in return.
And that was what she most remembered now: his selfishness and his belief that she was his appendage, there to serve him, make him comfortable, give him sex, and that there had been little to no equality in the relationship.
And she knew why: because she had let him. Because there was an underlying desperation back then in everything she did. Because she had settled for less than she deserved.
How far she had come. And Matt was waiting. The thought made her catch her breath, and she was within an inch of just getting up and leaving without even finding out what Paul could possibly want.
Why on earth had she even come back this afternoon?
She found her voice. "Paul. Tell me why you're here."
He gave her a considering look. "You know, I didn't know what I would find when I came here today. I did keep tabs on you after the breakup."
&nbs
p; She wasn't flattered. "And how is Taylor?"
"Oh, we're over. So over."
"I'm sorry." She wasn't. "Cut to the chase, Paul."
"I want you back."
Stunning. And just like Paul to break it to her in the least romantic setting possible.
And what did one say to one's former lover after a proposition like that?
She shook her head. "I haven't been sitting here waiting for you to come calling, Paul."
"I understand that. But I know you're not involved with anyone now— haven't been since me. I really want a chance to start over."
No, he wanted to be with the trend of the moment, Donna thought, torn between irritation and outright fury at both his arrogance and the fact that he'd been as good as spying on her all these years.
"Too late, Paul. I'm involved."
"Then it's really recent, and you're not in too deep."
"I'm in deep," Donna said. He's in deep…. She drew in a hissing breath. She was wasting time now, time that she could be with Matt.
"Donna…"
"No." She stood up abruptly. "No. I don't have to do this. I realize you're lonely, Paul, and there's no one waiting on you hand and foot. And also that there is some attraction in the devil you know. But I'm not her anymore. Everything's different. I wouldn't put up with one minute of your nonsense now. So it's better that I'm not available. You wouldn't like me— a lot."
She held out her hand. "But I am flattered you thought of me."
"Don't shovel that corporate crud on me, Donna. I invented most of it."
"I have to go."
"If I kissed you—"
"I'll bite you," she said stonily. "You can't go back, Paul. Why would you want to? Why would I?"
"I guess not. You've become one of them, Donna. You're in the mold. That disappoints me. I was sure you hadn't killed that free spirit."
"What free spirit was that, Paul? The one who chased you, begged you, cried over you, would do anything for you? She wasn't free— she was wholly and completely in chains. So… good-bye. Good luck. I'll let you show yourself out."
"What if I want to do business with you?" he called after her.
"Call my secretary," she called back just before the slam of the office door.
She was shaking. And it felt good. It felt like something poisonous had been exorcised, something that had been eating at her, inhibiting her, and now, finally, the cancer was gone.
Thank you, Paul… thank you, Matt.
She needed chocolate. She needed more than that. She'd promised Matt a treat.
She walked briskly along Sixth Avenue to the nearest convenience store, about five blocks away, which calmed her.
"…the hardest thing…"
Only he didn't know what she had in store for him.
She munched on a chocolate bar as she made her way to Fifth Avenue, her purchase in hand.
From there, a cab downtown.
From there— anything was possible.
The doorman announced her, and she was at Matt's door in two minutes.
It was open.
He hadn't been kidding. He was waiting, ferociously erect.
"I hope you have that treat," he called out to her. "I can't tell you how my imagination's been working overtime."
"That's pretty obvious," Donna said. "Now I hope I live up to your expectations."
She held up the bag like a stripper's glove as she entered the bedroom.
"That's it?"
"Ye of little faith…" She set the bag on the desk, and he eyed her warily. Something had changed in that hour she'd spent at the office. Something in her had lightened, almost as if she'd been unshackled and set free.
He didn't need to know the details now. The only thing that mattered was she was open and receptive, and that this was a good moment to press his advantage. "Donna?"
She stopped in mid-motion. "What?"
He hoisted himself to a sitting position on the bed. "You can't have your way with me yet."
"Oh?" Her voice was deceptively, dangerously silky. "Why can't I, Matt?"
"Because I'm the kind of guy who wants to know just where he stands."
"Oh, I think it's pretty obvious where you stand," Donna murmured.
"With you," Matt amended. "Where I do I stand with you? Is this real, serious going-somewhere stuff or just a two-day one night stand?"
Her breath caught. He was giving her the option, handing her the ultimate weapon and the ultimate power. A woman would have to be insane to say no. And maybe Matt knew it. Maybe he sensed something. It didn't matter. He would never abuse his advantage, and he made her feel like a queen.
"I could be serious," she whispered.
"Could?"
"Am."
A look of pure male satisfaction settled over his face. "Good. Now I can take you home with me this weekend."
Oh, that was fast. So fast. Taking her home was real serious. She rolled it over in her mind for a moment, and she found she didn't mind it at all. That it felt right and proper.
Matt could be a very proper guy.
Sometimes. But not now that she'd made the commitment. Their eyes met, and there was a growing heat in his gaze, and the most wicked gleam.
"Can I get naked now?" she asked, a little plaintively.
"Don't let me stop you."
She began removing her clothes, the jacket, the blouse, the skirt, the corporate executive, sliding everything off with an elegant sensuality that made him shudder.
The shoes and hose went next, and the panties… then she grabbed the mystery bag and climbed onto the bed to straddle his legs.
"This is it?"
"This is it." She felt as if those two words embodied everything between them: the promise, the passion, the future.
The fun.
She slipped off her bra and cradled the bag between her bare breasts. "Remember how you said everytime you saw me, I was always eating chocolate? Well, I thought I'd return the favor."
She pulled a small jar out of the bag. "This is what they call hard-shell chocolate. It occurred to me that I could find a very interesting use for it— don't you think?"
Meltdown.
He couldn't think. His whole body was stiff with anticipation, granite hard with wanting her.
Everything out in the open, nothing else was wanted; every question had been answered and asked.
She flashed him that seductively wicked smile he loved, and then she opened the jar and began to pour.
Seducing Sydnee
By
Penelope Neri
For Shirley Noni,
An angel of mercy with a sweet tooth,
With Love.
Chapter One
"Lindermann's sending you where? In December? And you're complaining?"
Ella fluffed out her damp red hair with her fingers, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I mean, have you looked outside lately, Sydnee, darling?" she asked, sounding even more languid and British than usual. "Three feet of snow. Nothing moving but polar bears, and you're griping about going to sunny Costa Rica? I should be so lucky!"
Sydnee scowled. "Fine. You go," she suggested crisply. "I have things to do right here."
Ella laughed. "Darling, if I could make that one fly, trust me, I would!" Finding the remote control, she flopped down onto the overstuffed sofa and waited for the tea to brew.
Her relaxed sprawl was in sharp contrast to Sydnee, standing before the fireplace. Her friend's shoulders were back, her spine straight, her knees primly together. Her gorgeous figure was camouflaged, as always, by baggy sweats.
Ella sighed. What a waste…
"So tell me. What's good ol' Lindy up to this time?" Flipping channels, she settled on a Rugrats cartoon.
"Lindy?" Sydnee asked, cocking a delicately arched eyebrow in Ella's direction. "Lindy?"
Professor Carl Lindermann headed the tropical agriculture research department at Cornell University, where Sydnee was pursuing her Ph.D. in ag-engineer
ing, with an emphasis in tropicals.
With dark brown hair that had already turned silver at the temples, he was handsome in a square-jawed, mature sort of way, but took himself, his work, and his life very seriously. He was definitely not the type that people called "good ol' " anything, let alone shortened his name. But then, that was Ella.
Poor Carl. He'd been struck speechless the first time he had met her flamboyant friend, whose catering business had provided the buffet for a faculty party a few months back. Ella was one of those women who oozed sex appeal. In fact, she had men panting after her wherever she went— except for Lindermann, who hadn't even noticed her.
Syd shook her head. No surprise there. Carl and Ella were as different as chalk and cheese.
"Since when did you call professor Lindermann 'Lindy'?" she asked, amused.
Ella shrugged expansively. "I did? Just a slip of the tongue," she soothed. "Now. About this new project? What is it exactly? The sex lives of Costa Rican fruit bats? Mad monkey love in the cloud forests?" Ella raised her arms and pumped her hips without getting up. "Hubba hubba!"
Sydnee's lips pursed in disapproval. Jade green eyes, half-hidden behind owlish lenses, flashed with annoyance "If you must know, it's to do with cocoa trees. Theobroma cacao."
There, she'd said it, although it embarrassed her to admit it out loud.
Saving the cocoa— or cacao— crops seemed like such a— a frivolous project. A waste of her valuable time. After all, cocoa yielded no lifesaving pharmaceuticals, unless you counted those silly feel-good endorphins that the chocoholics touted. Nor could chocolate feed the hungry masses. All it was really good for was… well, pleasure. Enjoyment. A luxury food.
Far too frivolous for someone of Sydnee's frugal upbringing and education.
Now, with crops like rice, wheat, or soybeans, or even the new Polynesian wonder food, taro, you could actually make a difference in people's lives. Perhaps even help to bring about an end to world hunger by developing newer and hardier crops that could resist both pests and weather and quadruple the harvests.
Chocolate, on the other hand, was pure indulgence. Or at least, that was how Sydnee thought of it.
"Chocolate?" Ella was saying, like an echo of her own thoughts. "Chocolate what? You don't mean chocolate chocolate?"
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