Hot Sheets

by Jeanie London

  She accepted the hanger while he turned his attention to the shelf above the rack. He inspected the array of sexy heeled slippers, and something about the sight of this man carefully considering her footwear choices seemed intimate, as if he wanted to share even the most personal tasks with her.

  His fingers grazed hers as he handed her a pair of slippers with a whimsical swirl of powder-blue boa, and Laura smiled seductively before retreating behind the screen.

  Undressing to the sounds of Dale pouring drinks and settling himself in one of the boudoir chairs blew away any remaining sense of reality. This was a moment of pure fantasy, and shedding her jacket, she peeled off her shell, aware of the cool air on her skin, the shimmer of silk mesh as she slipped on the peignoir. Her sense of anticipation heightened in the quiet, her excitement at imagining Dale's expression when she emerged.

  She forced herself to stay focused on the moment, to still her racing thoughts, not to analyze what was happening between them and zero in on the goal of enjoying each other every moment they were together.

  Sultry mood music played over a sound system and suddenly it was just Laura, her lover and this wonderfully romantic setting. Who cared what would happen when Victoria Ford arrived? Who cared what would happen when the Naughty Nuptials was over and Dale left town forever?

  She'd have to deal with all that reality soon enough. But now…she'd designed the Wedding Wing to indulge in the joy of being a couple, and she and Dale qualified.

  Slipping her feet into the slippers, she stepped out of the dressing room for the start of her performance.

  A memorable performance.

  Dale sat in the boudoir chair with his legs spread out before him, looking expectant and indulged and oh-so hand-some as his gaze devoured her in a hungry sweep. He didn't say a word, just sipped from his flute and twirled his finger in the air, motioning for her to spin.

  Laura did as requested, turning slowly on her toes in a move honed by years of dance. Indeed, with the tri-fold minor reflecting her from different angles, she felt aware of her body and the sheer physicality of her movements in a very familiar way. Or maybe it was just the look on Dale's face that made her so aware of her every move, made her feel decadent, bad.

  He watched her as if she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, as if he'd never wanted a woman more.

  It was a powerful feeling, even more so when he said in a gravelly voice, "This was such a good idea."

  "You have lots of good ideas, Dale." Gazing over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of herself in triplicate and inspiration struck. "So do I."

  Rolling her hips, she watched the silk shimmer in reflection with the motion, a fluid, sexy move that obviously looked as good as it felt given the sharp exhalation of breath that came from Dale's direction.

  That was all the encouragement Laura needed.

  She started up a sultry rhythm, moving sinuously as she rolled her shoulders and arched her back, swaying to the rhythm of the piped-in music. She could feel the familiar calm that always happened when she danced, the very reason she'd kept dancing through high school, college and now as her exercise of choice.

  Her moves were simple, but dancing chased away everything except for the sweet release of tension and her awareness of the man who watched.

  She could sense his gaze upon her, feel the heat of her body's response to her uncustomary boldness. She not only danced for his viewing pleasure, but was reflected in the minors, giving him a view from all angles.

  The peignoir swayed and shimmered, the silk sheer enough to treat him with glimpses of her swaying backside, the outline of her parted thighs. It was the boldness of the sight that inspired her to add another sexy twist.

  Raising her hands, she brushed her palms across her breasts, a barely there touch that evoked an immediate re-action as her nipples drew to tight peaks beneath the silk.

  A glance over her shoulder proved she had Dale's undivided attention. He'd leaned back in the chair, legs stretched before him, hands gripping the sides, the champagne flute forgotten on a nearby table. His expression had sharpened, his eyes had grown hooded in a look of profound appreciation and...restraint.

  He devoured her with his gaze. His fingertips disappeared into the poufy chair arms with his death grip on the chintz. Now wasn't for touching. Now was for pleasure, for proving she could create memories of their time together.

  So Laura pivoted slowly as she loosened the ribbon at her throat to let the peignoir fall open. Arching her back, she leaned forward then back again, a liquid movement that made her bare breasts spill from the parted fabric, swaying heavily as she kicked up her tempo.

  She raked her gaze over Dale's hungry expression, smiled at his surprise when she caught her nipples and pulled, a slow, thorough move that lifted her breasts and made her gasp at the sheer eroticism of the thrill bolting through her.

  Then she spun away and slipped behind the screen.

  By the time she'd completed her second costume change, she'd nearly forgotten life existed outside of this viewing studio, that she still had guests on a scavenger hunt She immersed herself in this unique opportunity to enjoy the romantic atmosphere she had created for couples.

  And one glimpse of herself in the stretch lace two-piece that left her midriff and a significant portion of her backside bare awoke something daring inside her. She felt challenged to bring Dale to his knees. She wanted to prove to him, and herself, that she could stick to the game plan no matter what, even though her feelings kept sliding from her grasp, and thoughts of romance, of promises and tomorrows and forevers, kept stealing in when her guard slipped.

  This time Dale let out a groan when she stepped from behind the screen, and Laura smiled at the need in that sound, the frustration, the desire. She treated herself to a glimpse of him, the way he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

  She let him observe her body from all angles, twirling slowly to give him ample opportunity to appreciate just how much this skimpy outfit didn't cover. The heeled slippers—little gold numbers this time—hiked her legs up. She wished she could unbind her hair just because she knew he'd like it, yet her braid showed so much more skin.

  Rolling her neck, she sent her braid flying, liking the playful motion. These little short-shorts had a wealth of potential, and with a laugh, Laura started up a new dance, more action this time, lively moves that didn't match the music but mirrored the throbbing thrum of her pulse.

  She allowed herself a glimpse of what she looked like in the mirror, and let her gaze sweep over the bold image she presented, all pale skin and bare legs, the flirty little outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. She could see the blush of her nipples through the mesh, the V of hair between her thighs. She liked the way her muscles shifted with the provocative moves, and when she caught sight of his reflection, she knew Dale liked the way she looked, too.

  He'd leaned forward on the plush chair and braced his elbows on his knees. His chest rose and fell on sharp breaths, but his look was pure sex. Lama had no doubt that he was feeling the effects of her performance as much as she did.

  And she felt them, big-time.

  She caught his gaze in the mirror and the moment reminded her of the last time they'd stood in front of a mirror—when he'd first touched her in the Castaway Honeymoon Isle. His gaze had promised her pleasure while his touch had turned fantasy into a reality.

  Only then he'd had the control. He'd brought her to orgasm and watched while she went to pieces in his arms.

  Now, he was the audience.

  Rolling her shoulders, she dipped down, down, down…her braid brushing the floor and her muscles stretching as she lifted her backside high. She heard his sharp intake of breath as the mesh stretched tight across her most private places and she knew he was getting a serious glimpse of the goods.

  "Laura, I think I've met my match in you." Somehow she'd never realized how powerful being wanted could be. But Dale's throaty admission inspired her to even greater boldness, and sl
ipping her fingers between her thighs, she let him watch her touching herself. "Dale, I'm not sure I should take that as a compliment."

  "You should, trust me," he ground out, low and raw, and the sound of his hunger combined with the light caresses on her skin made her shiver. "You test my control."

  "This is a good thing?" Rocking her bottom from side to side for good measure, she made sure he got a clear shot of her fingers.

  His low groan assured her. "It's a very good thing. You challenge me, Laura Granger."

  She found it hard to imagine how she could challenge a bad boy with a reputation the size of Dale's, but she didn't question him further. Right now wasn't about explanations or analysis—it was all about pleasure.

  And she didn't want distractions. Not when her pleasure was mounting, whether from her intimate touches or from simply knowing that Dale struggled to keep his hands to himself, Laura didn't know. But she knew she'd never felt this way before, and she liked the feeling. A lot.

  Costume change number three had her wearing a satin babydoll with a padded bodice for some hike 'em up cleavage. The top fastened right below her breasts and then flared open to reveal every inch of skin down to the teeny-weeny matching thong that rode low on her hips.

  "Oh, that's sweet," Dale said when she stepped out from behind the screen, and she couldn't resist bending over to readjust a strap on the slipper, treating him to a shot of her backside in triplicate just to refresh his memory. The thong disappeared into the cleft of her bottom, and Laura straightened, twirling in front of the mirrors and surveying herself. "It doesn't show much skin compared to the others. What do you think?"

  "I think I want to pull down that thong with my teeth."

  "Maybe we don't need to see skin, after all."

  But she showed him some anyway.

  Raising her arms above her head, she shimmied around in a full circle as the hem rode up to her waist, revealing the thong in all its glory, all the skin it didn't cover:

  "You look good enough to eat, Laura."

  "I'll have to take you at your word," she said in her silkiest voice when he shoved himself out of the chair and stalked to the sidebar to pour another drink.

  "That's a winner, too," he said without looking at her. "Add it to the pile."

  He looked delightfully frazzled around the edges, and she savored the feeling of knowing he was coming apart with her every carefully aimed salvo.

  "There hasn't been one outfit you don't like. Are you always this agreeable?"

  "Can't say."

  "Why?"

  He gave her an amused grin. "I don't usually shop for women's clothing."

  Now that he mentioned it, shopping for clothing seemed like such a couple thing to do that she wasn't surprised he hadn't done more before. And along with that feeling came more power, and a sense of purely feminine satisfaction that he'd taken her shopping—especially for something so intimate as lingerie.

  Sidling close, she cut off his escape to the chair and pressed up against him, whispering, "I'm glad you brought me here."

  His arm shot around her waist like a whipcord, anchoring her so close, she could barely breathe. Then his mouth came down on hers, a wild combination of sweet champagne and fierce hunger. A kiss so greedy that her knees turned to jelly and she leaned against him for balance.

  "Oh my, my, my, my, Laura." He breathed the words against her mouth. |"I'll be dreaming about you for the rest of my life."

  Not fantasizing, but dreaming, and in Laura's mind there was a difference. While she knew Dale didn't make the same distinction, she couldn't help being captured by the deep-throated lust in his voice. She'd accomplished mission objective today. The man of her fantasies had sex on his mind.

  So did she. Her sex throbbed in time with her pulse, and when Dale dragged his mouth away, she protested with a groan.

  But then he caught the edge of the bodice with his teeth and snapped it away. One breast rolled out of the cup, and exposed her pouting nipple.

  Dale caught it, a careful, teasing, tempting bite that made her moan. And when he sucked it inside his mouth with a slow, moist pull, Laura's legs grew boneless beneath her.

  "Let's make love." She barely recognized the voice as her own, but with him sucking on her breast and sending shock waves through her, she was lucky to have gotten the words out.

  He didn't bother with an answer, just held her tight as he speared his hand between her thighs and brushed aside the thong. He found her moist and ready, and Laura moaned again as he zeroed in on her needy places, could only respond to his lethal touches that brought her to climax as she stood there gasping.

  It was over that fast, and when she could think again, she could only press a kiss to the top of his silky head and sigh.

  "Do you still think this was such a good idea?" she asked. "I feel great, but you look uncomfortable."

  "Uncomfortable is an understatement." He gave a snort of not entirely amused laughter. "Is there anything in this place you didn't design to make couples horny?"

  "If there is, I'll fix it."

  He gave another gruff laugh but didn't let her go.

  "I won't send you back to the scavenger hunt horny, Dale."

  Raising his hand to her face, he brushed his fingers against her cheek, a gesture that seemed oddly tender in the heat of the moment. "But I didn't come to make love to you, Laura. I came to admire the view."

  "You don't want to make love?"

  "I always want to make love." A grin played around his mouth. "But I didn't bring you here to do anything but distract you from worrying about tonight, and I did."

  He'd surprised her. Dale had remarked before that there was always time to make love if she was already undressed…

  "You wanted to make me feel better" she said, understanding dawning. "Dale, that's so…noble of you."

  "I told you, being a bad boy doesn't mean I'm degenerate."

  "I never said it did."

  "It was there."

  "No, it wasn't" And it bothered her that he thought it was. "I never meant to imply you were degenerate. I wanted you to know that my eyes were wide open when I sent my invitation, that I wouldn't be under any mistaken impressions about what our relationship could be. I did think hearing about lots of happy women would make you feel good. Obviously, I was mistaken. I don't understand why you're being sensitive about this."

  In a sudden move, he dragged her around and sank down into the chair, pulling her into his lap. This new vantage made her feel every inch of her bare skin but not because he was fully clothed. Rather it was his serious expression that declared this moment was about a lot more than sex.

  "I'm not sensitive, Laura. It's just…" He exhaled heavily, leaching for her braid which had gotten caught between them. He rearranged it over her shoulder, fingering her hair thoughtfully. "I know my dating history doesn't make me look good. But that's not all I am, and I want you to see that."

  This admission was so not what Laura had expected. She hadn't had the slightest idea that calling him on his past behavior would make him feel the need to prove himself, which just went to show how far out of her league she was with this man.

  "I do see that And I think you're a very noble man," she said, willing him to hear her words, to accept the truth. "I'd never have sent my invitation if I didn't I know you think Miranda had something to do with that, and while I honestly didn't realize it at the time, think you might be right."

  Lifting her hand to his face, she caressed his cheek with the same familiarity that he touched her. And here it was…the admission. She wasn't sure if this was breaking a fling rule, but she needed him to understand.

  "I thought by letting Miranda and Troy attend the grand opening that I'd prove I'd put the past to bed. But now I see it's not as behind me as I thought Dealing with Miranda again has only shown me that I still don't like feeling second best."

  "You're number one with me, Laura."

  She thumbed the strong line of his jaw, smiled. "I would
n't change one second we've spent together."

  Her admission sounded so intimate in the hush between them that the vintage studio, the quiet music and all her bare skin faded beneath her need for him to believe her.

  And when his fingertips tightened around her jaw, and he tipped her face up to meet his kiss, Laura knew he did.

  Chapter Twelve

  Victoria Ford, Tori as she'd introduced herself to the management staff upon her arrival, was no less intimidating than her big sister but in a surprisingly different way.

  Laura had seen her often in the Westfalls hallways and the common room of their shared dormitory. While they'd both lived in Marceaux House, over a decade had passed since. The woman, as opposed to the young student in Laura's memory, had come as something of a shock.

  The physical characteristics weren't so far off from Miranda, like her big sister, Tori was of average height and delicate build, which managed to make taller Laura feel like a giant The blue eyes were the same deep shade, but her hair was wavy rather than curly, a lush red instead of black.

  Miranda presented herself as the vision of perfection, calm, cool and collected, capable of remaining equally so facing the press or in the path of an oncoming tornado. Tori, on the other hand, was a force of nature. She radiated a presence that no one could miss. She was, quite simply, a woman designed to be noticed.

  She'd blown into Ms. J.'s office with no less force than a level three twister and announced her excitement at having the opportunity to step into Benjamin's place. It was fate, she'd declared, because with her connections to the Hottest Honeymoon couple and the bedding consultant, she should have been assigned this grand opening from the start. Not to mention that many reporters would have given their right arms to collaborate with Tyler Tripp on a project.

  Laura hadn't known how prestigious it was to work with Tyler, but two things did strike her before the introductions ended The first was that Dale had been dead right with his advice to explain the situation with the Ford sisters to her co-workers. Had Laura not explained, they'd have all been left openmouthed when Tori had blown through the door with her announcement to capitalize on that situation.