“Never?”
“Not in real life.” At his questioning look, she added, “I used to think about it a lot, like what I'd be wearing and how I would look and what song would be playing, but that was it.”
“What would you be wearing?”
“You don't want to hear my silly thoughts.”
“I do. Tell me.”
She closed here eyes and remembered one fantasy in particular. “The outfit changes a lot, but my favorite is this red ball gown, with a matching corsage. One of those wrist corsages that the girls always brought to school on the Monday after a dance. I always wanted one of those.”
“And how do you look?”
“I've got my hair up with all these tiny red flowers, and I look happy. And excited.”
“And what song is playing?”
“‘The Time of My Life.’That song from the movie Dirty Dancing. The one at the end where everyone is reunited and the lead character wins everyone over with his dancing skills.”
The bed shifted and she opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her, the moonlight playing his naked body. He took her hand.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm going to dance with you. The way I should have that night.”
“But it wasn't your fault. I said no.”
“But you're not going to say no now.”
“But there's no music and we're naked…” Her voice trailed off as he brought her up hard against his body. Heat sizzled through her, but there was more than just a physical awareness between them now. There was a strange connection that lulled her nerves and relaxed her in his arms.
She closed her eyes and for the next few minutes, as they swayed back and forth, she actually felt the way she did in her ball gown fantasy. Alive and invigorated and special. The way she'd wanted to feel that night with him so long ago.
But this was better because it was real. And it was now.
“What are you thinking?”
His voice drew her eyes open and she leaned back to stare up at him. Desire gleamed in his eyes, along with a hint of something that sent a wave of anxiety through her and she pulled away.
“Did you hear that?” she blurted as she pulled away and made a big show of tiptoeing to the door. “I think my mother's up. She probably remembered her tea.”
“I didn't hear a thing.” For emphasis, he pulled open the door. The steady sound of snoring drifted from down the hallway.
“Oh. I could have sworn I heard her. We're so lucky she didn't hear us. We were much too loud.”
He closed and locked the door, grinned and urged her down onto the mattress. “Then we'll just have to make a concerted effort to keep it down the next time.”
“The next time?”
He grinned and kissed her belly button. “This time,” he murmured against her stomach before his tongue dipped and he licked a path south.
“I don't know if that's such a good…” Idea was there on the tip of her tongue, but it came out a garbled “ahhh” when he kissed the inside of her thigh. Soft hair tickled her skin as his mouth moved closer to ground zero. A little to the left…A little more to the north…There. He licked the sensitive swollen flesh between her legs and she forgot all about calling it quits.
“My lips are sealed,” she promised herself before his tongue darted out and parted her slick folds and she gasped from the pleasure of it.
He suckled and tasted and drove her to another mind-blowing orgasm. Her body quivered and heat coiled in her stomach and she arched up off the bed. Her own voice echoed in her head as she cried out at the delicious sensation.
A split-second later, Beau's mouth covered hers, muffling her cry as his erection probed the moist heat between her legs and he slid into her again. And again. And again. And set the pace for the next few hours to come, until their night drew to a close and she rushed him off before waking her mother up for breakfast.
The last thing she needed was to have to explain Beau's presence to her mother, particularly since the woman was stressed about the morning's taping, not to mention the rush to the airport immediately after in order to catch a plane back to L.A. to check on Xandra's father.
It was just sex, Ma.
But that was the problem. It hadn't been just sex. It had been great sex. Surprisingly great sex.
One down and two to go.
The minute the thought pushed inside her head, she pushed it right back out because Beau had made it perfectly clear that he didn't want a relationship at this point in his life. And neither did she, she reminded herself. She wanted the Lust, Lust, Baby! team to come begging for her ingenuity and she wanted a baby. End of story.
At least that's what Xandra told herself the rest of the morning as she kissed her mother good-bye, wished her good luck with her Houston daters, and headed off to her office for the much needed distraction of work.
Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time Xandra reached the offices of Wild Woman, she had her priorities back in order. At the top of the list: the Sextravaganza that kicked off Thursday with a press conference at the George R. Brown Convention Center.
She wasn't going to think about last night or sex or Beau or last night's sex with Beau.
It was all about work from here on out. Or it would be as soon as she got off the phone with her father who called the minute she sat down at her desk.
“I was just calling to see if your mother got off to work okay.”
“She seemed fine, in between the grumbling about messages and monogrammed towels. What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, dear. That's the problem. For the past thirty-seven years, I've done absolutely nothing to forge more of a committed relationship with your mother. Instead, I've given her space and time and the chance to realize she needs me. But she hasn't realized a thing. We're no closer to being a real couple than we were when we first met.”
“‘Real,’ as in legally married?”
“I don't intend to push her that far. I know her objections, particularly after witnessing your grandfather's relationship with your grandmother. But I've been hoping that we can have the complete commitment, just without the piece of paper.”
“Meaning the monogrammed towels and the joint message.”
“Exactly. But giving her time and space hasn't done the trick, so I'm trying a different approach.”
“And what if she doesn't come around?”
“I used to think just being with your mother on whatever terms would be enough. I loved her and so I made up my mind to take what I could get. But when I walked your sister down the aisle, I couldn't help but envy Clint. Because he had what I wanted: a woman who loved him and wasn't afraid to admit as much in front of God and everybody. I want that, Xandra. I always have, I just wouldn't admit it because if I did I would have to also admit that your mother doesn't need me the way I need her. That she doesn't love me.”
“She loves you, Daddy. I know she does.”
“We'll soon find out, won't we?” Before she could reply, he went on, “But enough about us old folks. How's my girl? Are you gearing up for the big show at the Sextravaganza?”
“Actually, I am. I've got a really great product in the works. Revolutionary, in fact.” She went on to spend the next five minutes telling him about Mabel and about the spectacular results she'd documented thanks to Kimmy. By the time she slid the phone into its cradle, she felt fully confident—despite her own failure to experience Mabel's wow-ability firsthand—that she had a winner.
A few more test runs and she would officially move Mabel from product development to the finished product department where sales and marketing would implement a packaging concept and a trendy new name.
“Somebody looks happy,” Xandra said when she walked into the outer office to find Kimmy filing.
“Happy and stylish.” Kimmy fingered the red scarf draped around her neck. “It's Gucci, and just a small token of Greg's appreciation after the Swiss steak dinner I made for him last nigh
t, complete with Chocolate Love Balls for dessert.” Her smiled widened. “But he isn't the only one who was totally satisfied last night. Mabel was outrageous. I was so loud that I scared his German shepherd, who spent the entire night whimpering in the corner.” She handed Xandra a neatly typed sheet of paper. “I documented everything for you.”
“Thanks.” She took the results and perched on the edge of Kimmy's desk.
“I have to tell you, I couldn't have been more shocked. The last time Greg and I got together, it was so totally awful that I cried. He was a happy camper, of course but I cried in private in the bathroom. I was miserable. He isn't very big. Not that I'm big, mind you. It's just that he isn't even average. But last night was great anyway.”
“Mabel overcomes the size dilemna.” Xandra glanced over the notes and smiled. “She's certainly living up to expectations so far. Take these for your next date.” She retrieved the last of the Mabel samples from her skirt pocket and handed them to Kimmy.
“I'll take them for future use—I might have a hot prospect tomorrow—he's too big and the last time we had sex I couldn't walk at all the next day.”
“That's good. We can see how Mabel holds up under stressful conditions.”
Kimmy sighed and slid the samples into her pocket. “As for tonight, even Mabel can't help me with this one. It's a mercy date, which means no sex. I'm going out with Theodore Zackerman, the newbie in engineering.”
“The redhead with the stress penis?”
“That's him. He's my neighbor's son. Lula Zackerman. I didn't even know I was working with her son until she brought me sugar cookies this past Sunday and Theodore tagged along. Even then, I didn't recognize him until he mentioned Paulie the Penis and how you'd liked it. Then I realized, hey this is one of Albert's new guys.”
“So he asked you out?”
“His mother asked me out. It seems that Theodore is shy and hasn't been on a date in forever. But all that ends tonight since I'm a sucker for homemade sugar cookies, support hose, and the smell of vanilla extract.”
“Dinner and dancing?”
“Bingo and midnight fondue at the seniors center.” At Xandra's raised eyebrows, she added, “We're going with his mother.”
“Ah, you're testing the waters for a threesome.”
“I've always wanted to try one, but I sort of pictured it a little differently.”
“I think it's sweet that you're doing this for your neighbor. Who knows? Maybe you guys will actually hit it off. Stranger things have happened.”
Such as Xandra Farrel having the best orgasm of her entire sexually active life with Beau Hollister, of all people, and without benefit of Mabel.
She still couldn't believe it.
Despite her poor performance expectations, Beau had lived up to every rumor she'd ever heard back in high school, and then some. It was as if she'd been with another guy that night so long ago.
Then again, ten years was a long time. She shouldn't have been so quick to think that he would be just as inept as he'd been their first night together. But she'd wanted to think that, otherwise she would have had to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, their one disastrous night together hadn't been his fault. But hers.
Maybe if she'd been thinner or prettier, he wouldn't have been in such a hurry. Maybe he would have been slow and thorough and determined to satisfy her the way he'd been last night.
Because she was thinner now? And prettier? Because she made a more attractive woman than an awkward, chubby teenage girl?
Yes.
She'd seen the truth blazing in his eyes when he'd looked at her naked body. She'd felt it in the reverent way he'd touched her. She'd tasted it in the fierce hunger of his kiss.
He wanted her now in a way he'd never wanted her back then. The affirmation of her worst fear should have upset her, but it didn't. Instead, it sent a surge of victory through her because she realized that she'd finally succeeded in changing her image from the dumpy and frumpy ugly duckling to a hot, sexy, vibrant swan.
Beau had not only given her a great orgasm last night, he'd given her something much more precious—a newfound sense of confidence. Not because he'd told her she was beautiful. But because he'd truly believed it. For that, she owed him, and so she intended to keep her word—she wasn't having sex with him again.
No matter how much she wanted to.
He wasn't having sex with her again.
No matter how much he wanted to.
That's what Beau told himself Saturday as he loaded the sandalwood latex paint into his sprayer and started painting the exterior of the house.
One night he could allow himself. He'd given in to his lust and put his pride on the line, and he'd come out victorious. He'd needed to know, to prove that he was no longer the hasty kid he'd been so long ago, and he'd done just that. He'd stopped dreaming about all the things he wanted to do to her and taken charge of the fantasy.
Now it was time to move on. To focus. On finishing the house. On winning the Texas Monthly renovation competition and revamping his company's image. On the future rather than the damnable fantasy that had haunted him ever since their first encounter.
Beau shifted his attention to the spray can and worked his way around the house. He'd nearly finished with the eastern side when Xandra climbed out of her car and walked up the front walk.
It wasn't so much the way she looked—dressed in a tank top and blue jean shorts—that took his breath away and made him rethink the whole no-more-sex thing. Sure, the shirt was tighter and shorter and hugged her breasts more than any he'd seen her wear in the past, and the shorts were fitted and cut midthigh rather than roomy and knee-length like the ones she usually wore. But what stopped him cold was the way she moved her body. Her steps were sure and easy, her back arched a fraction more than usual, her head held high, as if she knew she looked as sweet as a bowl of caramel popcorn.
The thought conjured an image of her as she'd been last night, so naked and soft and panting beneath him…
“Shit.” The thought faded into a muttered curse as his finger faltered on the trigger of the spray can and he blasted a portion of the rain gutter with the sandalwood paint.
He stiffened, set the paint can down on a nearby canvas. After grabbing a rag soaked with paint thinner, he cleaned up the mess and pulled off his paint-splattered gloves. He met her near the front porch and reached for her briefcase. His hand brushed hers and electricity sizzled along his nerve endings, sending a blast straight to his already growing erection.
As if she sensed the response, she smiled. And he frowned.
“We really need to talk about last night. It was wonderful, but it was still just—”
“Sex.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “What did you say?”
“I said last night was just sex. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it? ‘Just sex.’”
His eyes sparkled. “Actually, I was thinking great sex.”
She nodded. “Fantastic sex.”
“Phenomenal sex.”
“But still just sex.” She sighed. “Look, you don't have to worry. I meant what I said; I only wanted one night. You can stop worrying that I'm going to make more out of it than it is, because I'm not. It didn't mean anything. I mean, it did. You wanted me and I wanted you, but it's over now. I don't want a relationship with you.”
“Neither do I. I've got to finish the house by Friday. The inspectors from Texas Monthly will be here on Saturday. The office has pretty much been on hold while I've been working on this project, so I'll have a load of work waiting when I get back. Not to mention the new workload once H&H wins the competition. I'm too busy to have a woman in my life.”
“And I'm too busy to have a man in my life. I've got to finish the data on Mabel and then come up with a new packaging concept and name for her before the press conference on Thursday. She's sure to have the Lust, Lust, Baby! people beating down my door to steal me away from Wild Woman, which means I'll soon be working for the top
company in the business. I doubt I'll have time to breathe after that, much less make time for a man. We should just go our separate ways.”
“Completely separate.” He did his damnedest to keep from reaching out for her when her gaze darkened. She licked her lips and his stomach hollowed out and suddenly the thought of never seeing her again hit him hard and fast and he heard himself say, “But friends…Why, a man can never have too many friends.” And they were friends, he admitted.
In between her seduction attempts, they'd actually gotten to know one another again. He liked her, and she liked him. He could see the truth in her eyes, even before he heard her words.
“Good friends are priceless.”
“And there's nothing wrong with two good friends sharing a broccoli-asparagus casserole.”
“Broccoli and asparagus?”
“Your neighbor dropped it off a half hour ago. It smelled pretty good and I haven't eaten all day.”
“Neither have I. Let's go.”
She was eating broccoli and asparagus and she wasn't gagging.
Xandra came to that realization as she sat in her kitchen across from Beau and lifted another forkful of casserole to her lips. She opened her mouth and took a bite.
Her taste buds protested for the first few seconds, but then Beau smiled at her and said something about how nice she looked in her new outfit, and she forgot everything except the man sitting across from her.
Sometimes Naughty, Sometimes Nice Page 24
