Fooling Around

by Noelle Adams

  “A cozy mystery.” She didn’t even look up from her book.

  “What’s a cozy mystery?”

  Her eyes popped up. “You don’t know what a cozy mystery is?”

  He frowned. “Should I?”

  “I guess not. It’s a mystery without a lot of violence, usually with an amateur detective.”

  “Oh. Who’s the detective in that one?”

  “She’s a librarian.”

  “Is it good?”

  “Pretty good. It’s light and keeps you engaged with solving the mystery.” She stood up and picked up her glass and Eric’s. “You want another?”

  “Sure.”

  He watched her as she walked over to the bar, mesmerized by the slight sway of her hips and the line of her bare legs. She wasn’t in-your-face sexy and glamorous, like most of the women he dated. She kept all of her sexiness reined in, hidden behind clothes that covered her body and behind her quiet composure.

  But for some reason that just made him want to draw her out more. He wanted to uncover all she was trying to hide.

  When she came back, the steaks were done, so they ate them with salad and pasta salad at the table outdoors.

  They were still outside a couple of hours later, and Eric was feeling better than he had since he’d broken his leg. The sun was setting, so Julie had turned on the lights around the pool deck. Tim had gone inside to watch television in his room, since they didn’t need him anymore.

  He felt like he and Julie were alone in the world, listening to the sound of the waves behind the dunes, feeling the fresh breeze on his skin.

  She was looking down at her e-reader again, but he wondered if she was even reading it at the moment. She seemed very far away.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  She looked up at him in surprise. “What makes you think I wasn’t reading?”

  He could tell by her choice of words that he’d been right. “You think I don’t know you by now?”

  His question had been light, thoughtless, so he was surprised when her expression changed. She looked a little self-conscious as she murmured, “I don’t think you really know me at all.”

  “Yes, I do. And if you would answer my questions, I could get to know you even more.”

  “I always answer your questions.”

  “You always respond. But that’s not the same as really answering me.” His heartbeat sped up slightly, an excitement growing inside him that he didn’t really understand.

  “What question didn’t I answer?”

  “I asked you a minute ago what you were thinking, and you deflected.”

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat and glanced away. “I was just thinking about how nice the evening was.”

  She might have been referring to the weather, but something made him think there was more than that. She wouldn’t have been looking so self-conscious had she not been thinking something that embarrassed her.

  Maybe, like him, she’d been just enjoying the whole experience.

  He thought then of what the last several years must have been like for her, taking care of her parents, always on call, never having any time for herself. Eric had loved his parents, but he wasn’t sure he could have taken care of them the way she had hers.

  He wondered when was the last time she had really let go. Certainly, she hadn’t since she’d been working for him. She’d been reluctant even to get a massage.

  He suddenly realized he desperately wanted to see it, experience it—that moment when Julie finally let down her guard, gave herself over to something, anything.

  “When was the last time you really relaxed?” he asked. He wanted to ask something more personal than that, but if he did, she would probably shut down the conversation.

  “I’m relaxing right now,” she said.

  “Maybe. Kind of. But not really. You keep looking up to make sure there isn’t something you need to do for me.”

  “Well, that’s what you’re paying me for.”

  “I know. But that’s why I asked. When was the last time you really relaxed?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against her chaise. “I don’t know.”

  “Have you ever?”

  She frowned. “Of course, I have. Why wouldn’t I have relaxed in my life?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem to spend all your life taking care of other people. It seems to have become who you are.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I can help other people without somehow letting it consume who I am.” She let her loose hair fall down past her shoulder, obscuring her expression from him.

  “I’m sure you can. I just don’t know if that’s what you’ve done. I think you hide behind your responsibilities so you don’t have to put yourself out there.” He leaned closer to her, pushing back her hair so he could see her face. “I want to see the real Julie, and you haven’t showed her to me yet.”

  She gazed at him, obviously taken aback by his words, and her expression softened as they shared the gaze. His hand stayed at her cheek, quite unintentionally, and soon he was cupping her face with it.

  Then she abruptly pulled back with a quick breath. “I work for you. This is the Julie you get.”

  If he was smart, he would just let it go, since she was exactly right in what she said about their professional relationship. But he didn’t want to let it go. He felt like he was on the cusp of getting a glimpse of her for real, and he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

  “You’re just using that as an excuse. I bet you don’t show your real self to anyone. Not even that guy you’re dating.”

  “It’s none of your business what I show to anyone else.” She looked rattled, although she was trying to hold onto her composure. “And you don’t know anything about who I date.”

  Eric hated the thought of that guy. She’d gone out with the asshole again just a few days ago. “I’d know more if you’d tell me more.”

  “I’m not going to tell you about who I date. It’s none of your business.”

  “What if I want it to be my business?” He was feeling bristly now, at the thought of some other guy being with Julie when he couldn’t seem to get any closer to her himself.

  “Well, I’m sorry. But some things are off-limits.”

  There was a strange timbre to the last words, and it took Eric aback. He tried to think through why she’d said them that way, and where he had heard them before.

  And he suddenly remembered. And with the memory he realized why she’d pulled back from him this week.

  She’d asked him about Maddy and her mother, and he’d shut her down, slammed the door in her face. Told her it was off-limits. Because thoughts of his daughter made him feel weak, and he couldn’t stand to feel that.

  He groaned softly and fell back against the chaise. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “You know what. About being so rude when you asked about Maddy.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine. You had every right to end the conversation. Your daughter isn’t my business.”

  “That’s why you’ve been so standoffish this last week.”

  “I haven’t been standoffish.”

  “Yes, you have.” He smiled at her fondly, feeling better now that he understood what was driving her, why she’d pulled back the way she had. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to be close to him. It was because he’d pushed her away. “And it’s all my fault.”

  “No,” she said, sitting up straight and swinging her legs over the side of the chaise, like she was about to get up and leave. “You were right. There should be appropriate boundaries between us. I shouldn’t ask you about personal things.”

  He straightened up too, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm in an instinctive attempt to keep her from leaving him. His heart was beating faster than ever now. He felt almost breathless. “But if you can’t ask me personal thi
ngs, then I can’t ask you them either.”

  “That’s right. That’s how it works.” She was trying to hide her face behind her hair again.

  “But I want to ask you personal things.” He was confident again, gently brushing her hair back from her face. He was good with women. He was good at this.

  “Well, you can’t.” She licked her lips.

  Desire and a deeper sort of need rose inside him. He cupped her cheek the way he’d done before. “But I want to.”

  “It doesn’t always matter what you want.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true.” He drew her toward him, since he couldn’t lean very far because of his cast. He heard her breath catch as he took her face in both of his hands.

  “Eric.” She might have been beginning a sentence, but all he heard was her saying his name.

  And he wanted it. He wanted to hear his name on her lips in that breathless way. Again. And again. With a throaty groan, he pulled her face toward his until he could reach her lips.

  The first touch fired up all of his senses, and he slid his fingers around the curve of her head, threading them through her soft hair.

  To his pleasure, she was immediately pliant, willing, eager. She wrapped an arm around his neck and softened her lips against his.

  He slid his tongue into her mouth, wanting to feel her, taste her, claim her. Wanting to release the fire he’d always sensed smoldering inside her. She opened to his tongue and made a soft moan at the back of her throat.

  “That’s right,” he murmured, when their lips broke briefly as he had to reposition himself slightly. The leg cast was really cramping his style here. “Show me who you really are.”

  She made another breathless sound as he claimed her lips again. She wanted him. He could feel it in her responsiveness, in the way she was shamelessly pulling his tongue into her mouth again. Pride and pleasure and possessiveness roared in his head all together as he started to pull her on top of him so he could touch her body.

  But before he could manage it, she was pulling away, scrambling to her feet.

  He stared up, his body throbbing with arousal and bone-deep need. “Julie,” he began, his voice embarrassingly husky.

  “We can’t do this,” she gasped, hugging her arms to her chest. “We can’t.”

  Before he could get any more words out, she’d turned around and hurried off the pool deck, away from him.

  He stared after her, the roar in his head transforming into frustration and outrage as he realized what was happening.

  She was walking away from him, taking what he wanted, leaving him unsatisfied. No woman had ever done so—not in his whole life.

  And he wanted Julie more—deeply, fully—than he’d ever wanted anyone else. He didn’t know how or why it had happened, but it had.

  “I’ll send Tim out to help you inside,” she rasped as she closed the gate to the wall that surrounded the pool area.

  And that made it all even worse. The knowledge that he couldn’t even get inside without assistance.

  He was helpless. Powerless. Unable to take what he wanted.

  And there was absolutely no way of changing it.

  Chapter 8

  Julie’s body felt like a lit fuse, like it was only a matter of time before it exploded.

  It was desperately hard to make herself walk away when Eric was the one who could finally set it free.

  But she was racked with fear and confusion—with all of the consequences of crossing this kind of boundary and giving in to such a dangerous desire—and that was enough to keep her from turning back, returning to Eric, and giving them both what they wanted.

  She could hardly believe he wanted her at all, but he obviously did. She couldn’t mistake the look in his eyes, the feel of his body.

  Eric probably gave in to such desires all the time. He wasn’t in the habit of holding himself back. It wouldn’t mean as much to him as it would mean to her.

  That alone should be reason enough for her to not do something so foolish.

  As she climbed the stairs, though, she kept thinking about Eric, sitting by the pool, wanting her, if only for the night.

  He’d said she lived so much for other people that she’d let it consume her. He’d said she hid herself behind her responsibilities because she was too afraid to put herself out there. She might be deeply offended by the presumption, but she had to admit he was right.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something purely for herself, purely because she wanted to do it.

  With a resigned sigh, she went into her bedroom and changed out of her suit and into a pretty pink nightgown that made her feel better.

  She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering what it meant that she wore pretty, sexy clothes only when no one else was around to see them.

  She suddenly wanted it to be different. She wanted herself to be different, more like the fantasy self she so often daydreamed about. She wanted to do what she wanted—just because she wanted to—no matter what anyone else thought, no matter what her own little voices believed.

  She wanted Eric, and he wanted her. And for once she was going to take what she wanted, no matter how many good reasons she had for holding back.

  Without giving herself time to talk herself out of it, she unzipped a compartment of her bag she rarely used and pulled out a condom packet.

  She carried a few with her, thinking it was what mature, independent women did. She’d never once had to use one, since she’d never had spontaneous sex in her life.

  But tonight she was taking a risk, being someone different.

  She put her flip-flops back on and went downstairs. She’d forgotten to tell Tim that Eric needed some help, but it was just as well. Tim’s presence would have put a damper on her determination right now.

  She walked out the back door of the house and opened the gate that led to the pool area.

  Eric was still sitting on the chaise where she’d left him. He was staring at the water of the pool, looking uncharacteristically sober, almost lost.

  Her heart went out to him as much as her body had earlier.

  He was so much more than rich, powerful, arrogant. There was something tender inside him, hiding beneath the surface.

  She wanted that even more than she wanted his body.

  She walked over to where he sat and saw his expression change when he turned his head and saw her approach.

  She held his gaze as she stood over him.

  He opened his mouth—maybe to ask a question—but nothing came out. His eyes crawled over her body, her bare legs, little nightgown, loose hair. His gaze went hot the way it had earlier before he’d kissed her.

  “I changed my mind,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “For once, I want to take what I want.”

  His expression broke for just an instant, like he was overwhelmed with strong feeling. Then he reached a hand out to her. “Come here, then.”

  She drew closer, hesitating when she remembered his leg. “It might be a little complicated,” she began.

  He shook his head, taking her hand and pulling her closer. “It will be perfect. You’ll just have to be on top.”

  She wasn’t an on-top sort of woman, but she wasn’t about to complain. She wanted him in any way she could get him. With his help, she straddled his hips, and he pulled her down into a deep kiss.

  The feel of his body against her, his lips on hers, his hands tracing the line of her back and her butt, sent pleasure pulsing through her. He was hard and big and strong beneath her, and her own body seemed to fit exactly right against his.

  He was quickly becoming more urgent, his hands stroking all over her and settling in the cleft below her bottom, holding the flesh with an entitled grip that made her want to purr. They were kissing desperately, as if both of them were starving, famished.

  She pulled back slightly when he adjusted his position beneath her. “You okay?” she asked breathlessly, finally putting the condom down and using both
hands to pull his shirt up over his head.

  “Yeah. I’ve never been quite so immobile before, but I’m sure we can make it work.” When she pulled his shirt free, his eyes devoured her, moving from her face and down her body. Her cheeks were hot and her hair was messy and her nipples were tightened shamelessly, and he seemed to really like what he saw.

  He reached for the fabric of her nightgown and pulled it off her slowly, revealing her naked body. She wore a pair of panties and nothing else.

  “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he said hoarsely, staring at her chest. He dropped the gown on the ground and reached to cup both of her breasts. “I knew you’d be gorgeous like this.”

  She sucked in a breath at the touch of his rough hands, and she arched helplessly when he twirled her nipples with his thumbs, so aroused now they were throbbing, aching. She could hardly hold herself still.

  “Look at you,” he murmured, sustaining his torturous caress. “Look how much you love this, how much you want me to make you feel good.”

  For some reason, his words just heightened her pleasure. She was moaning now. She couldn’t seem to stop. “I do. Please, Eric. Please.”

  He made a pleased growling sound and slid one hand between her legs, beneath the fabric of her panties. He teased her nipple with one hand as he explored with the other.

  She cried out when he found her clit, her whole body jerking with an intense surge of pleasure.

  “There’s the spot. Is this what you want?” He caressed her skillfully as she clutched at the arms of the chaise to keep her balance on her knees above him.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “I want it. I want it so much.”

  He worked her over until she was on the edge of coming. He was watching her hungrily the whole time. Even with her eyes closed, she could sense his possessive look, and it made her even hotter. She knew he was watching as the pleasure broke inside her, and she let out an uninhibited cry of release.

  “Beautiful,” Eric murmured, pulling her back down into a kiss. “So beautiful.”

  She kissed him eagerly, her body racked with lingering pleasure. Even after her climax, she hadn’t had anywhere close to enough of him.

  As they kissed, she fumbled at his shorts, pulling down the waistband enough to find his erection. He was hard and hot beneath her hands, and she caressed the length of him, loving when his breath hitched and his body jerked at her touch.