Catch of the Day

by Whitney Lyles

  Lissy lay in the dark, burning. She crossed her legs, squeezed her thighs tightly together, tried to ease the ache.

  No, it’s me. I’m just—

  —head-over-heels in love with a very sexy man who knows perfectly well how he affects you and is doing everything he can to make you lose the bet before he does.

  Was Holly right after all?

  After tonight it certainly seemed like it. Lissy’d tried to keep their contact chaste, kissing him on the cheek, keeping her distance, trying not to add fuel to the fire. But Will had grabbed the gas can and emptied it over both of them. Whoosh!

  He’d been just as turned on as she, his cock a hard ridge inside his pants, his breathing unsteady, his blue eyes dark like the night sky.

  I agreed not to have sex until after the wedding. But I didn’t agree not to touch you, Lissy. I intend to touch you every day. Get used to it.

  But Lissy would never get used to it. Although she’d always enjoyed sex, nothing could compare to the way she felt when Will touched her. Will had more passion in his kisses than most men possessed in their entire bodies. His tongue alone was . . .

  She couldn’t think about that. She’d already found herself weighing the pros and cons of the Badgley Mischka. Swarovski crystals. Chapel-length train. Corset waist.

  But she’d set out to prove to herself they could go for two weeks without sex and still have a strong relationship. She wasn’t ready to give in yet.

  Get a grip on yourself, Lissy!

  She wanted to get a grip on Will. But that wasn’t going to happen, not for twelve long days and twelve longer nights—eleven if she didn’t count today. Which was almost over, so she really shouldn’t count it. Then again, tonight wasn’t over until she fell asleep. Twelve. Twelve long nights.

  She rolled onto her belly, slid her hand beneath the mattress, pulled out her vibrator and rolled over onto her back. Then she flipped the switch—and nothing happened.

  She shook it. Still nothing.

  She sat up, turned on the light, saw the switch was set at Off.

  “Well no wonder.”

  She flipped it the other way. Nothing.

  And then it occurred to her that the thing had been switched to On.

  The batteries were burned out.

  With an aggravated sigh, she got out of bed and padded down the hallway to get fresh ones. Had she left the darned thing on all night long? No, that was impossible. It was loud enough—and strong enough—that she’d have heard and felt it. Maybe her motions had accidentally turned it on when she’d gotten up in the morning and she’d been too busy to hear it buzzing away. Yet how could that be when the switch actually required a bit of effort?

  She entered the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, its light spilling across her bare legs and into the darkened room. She reached for the side shelf where they kept spare batteries—only to find it empty. She groaned.

  Will must have taken them for his—

  She stood bolt upright and slammed the fridge door, making glass jars and bottles clink.

  That bastard!

  He had turned her vibrator on and let the batteries run out. And he’d taken the rest of the pack so she’d have nothing to replace them with.

  For a moment she could do nothing but fume.

  He was trying to seduce her! He was trying to make her give in! He was trying to make her wear the slutty wedding gown!

  Well, he was a freaking idiot if he thought an act of vibrator sabotage and battery theft would be enough to force her to come crying for him. She was more resourceful than that.

  Lissy tiptoed into the living room, picked up the TV remote and opened it—only to find it took AAA batteries, not AAs.

  “Damn!”

  The same was true of the stereo, VCR and DVD remotes.

  She wracked her brain, tried to figure out what other appliances in the house took batteries. The alarm clocks? No. They were electric. Her iPod? No, it had its own battery. The smoke detectors!

  She hurried back to the kitchen, picked up a chair and carried it into the hallway. Then she climbed up and, standing on her tiptoes, tried to remove the casing. It was on tight, and as she twisted and tugged, her hand bumped the glowing red Test button.

  It let out a blaring beep, making Lissy grab her ears and look - toward the bedroom. The last thing she wanted was for Will to catch her scavenging for batteries. She watched for a moment, waited. All was quiet.

  She reached back up and removed the cover with a quiet click.

  Nine volt.

  Nine volt! The damned thing took nine-volt batteries!

  “Lissy, what in hell are you doing?”

  She gasped, found Will standing stark naked beside the chair. “I-it’s been a while since we changed these. I was just checking to make sure it still worked.”

  “At one in the morning?”

  “We don’t want to get caught with our pants down.”

  “Uh, no. I guess not.” He glanced down at his naked body. “Why don’t you let me do that? I’m taller. Hand me the spare.”

  Her face flushed red. She didn’t have the spare. “I-I think I forgot to grab it.”

  “I’ll get it.” He walked off, his ass muscles shifting as he moved. “You get to sleep.”

  Lissy swore she heard him chuckle.

  Laugh all you want, Mr. Tricky Man. Two can play at this game.

  On Tuesday, Lissy got up early, showered, then took her time dressing in the bedroom, being just loud enough to wake Will, but not so loud that it was obvious she was trying to wake him. As he watched from beneath sleepy lids, she slathered scented cream up the length of her newly shaved legs, across her belly and breasts, and down her arms, and over the naked mounds of her butt. She took her time doing it, massaging the cream into her skin as if she were caressing a lover, cupping her breasts, bending to give him a glimpse of her from behind.

  Then she pulled a pair of garters and stockings out of her drawer of naughty lingerie and—with Will more fully awake—rolled the stockings up her legs and fastened them to the garters. Next, she put on a silk push-up bra, lifting her breasts with her hands so they filled the cups just so. Then she put on a slinky black wrap dress—but no panties.

  “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” He sounded grumpy.

  “Oh!” Lissy pretended she hadn’t realized he was awake. She slipped into a pair of black Manolo Blahniks. “To the paper, of course. Will you be working late again tonight?”

  “No.” He was grumpy.

  “Have a great day at Broncos camp. I hope Don the dickhead - isn’t snotty to you on the air.” She leaned over far enough to give him a glimpse of what he wasn’t touching and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Will Fraser.”

  Then she sashayed out the door, feeling like a million bucks.

  “She caught on to me, guys. That’s the only explanation. She’s fighting back. If I thought I was hurting before, I’m dying now. I’m talking balls so blue they’re purple.”

  Will had endured three days of sheer hell and had done the only thing a man could do under such circumstances: met his buddies after work for a beer.

  Devon took a drink. “What makes you say she’s fighting back? What’s she doing?”

  Will leaned in, lowered his voice. “She’s teasing me, playing stripper in reverse.”

  “So she’s been getting dressed?” Devon looked unimpressed.

  “It’s more than that! She struts naked into the bedroom while I’m still in bed. She rubs skin cream over her entire naked body like she’s making love to herself. She takes extra time on all the best parts, especially her ass. I’m telling you, she greases that thing so well she could put it on the grill!”

  Devon, Scott, Robert and Nick stared at him, silent and openmouthed.

  But Will had to vent, had to get it out of his system. “Then she gets dressed. Tuesday it was a push-up bra, garters and stockings—and no panties. Yesterday it was a red silk thong. This morning sh
e wore a see-through teddy thing—white lace and ribbons.”

  “Whoa.” Robert lifted his beer, missed his mouth.

  Nick and Scott stared at him, mute.

  Devon buried his face in his hands. “Man, I sense pink in my future.”

  “Why don’t you just get up and walk out while she’s dressing?” Scott asked.

  “I’d like to see you try that.” It wasn’t that Will hadn’t thought of that. But when the time had come, he’d found himself unable to move.

  “You are wanking, right?” Nick had never been subtle.

  “Of course I’m wanking! I’m a guy, right?”

  “Just making sure you hadn’t overlooked an obvious solution.”

  “Listen! I’m not finished.” Someone had to know what he’d been going through these past three days. “Tuesday night she picked up sushi—and fed me with her own chopsticks. Last night I came home early thinking I’d beat her at her game and cook my lasagna she loves so much, only to find her setting out oysters on the half shell. And the whole time we’re eating, all I can think about is that finely greased ass.”

  “And so you just sit there, a testosterone train wreck, and do nothing to turn the tables?” Devon glared at him as if he’d done something terrible.

  “Of course not!” He couldn’t tell them about running down the batteries on her vibrator. That seemed a bit too personal. Besides, she’d bought fresh batteries the next morning—and hidden the vibrator somewhere he hadn’t been able to find it. “I strut around as naked as a monkey at the zoo. I’ve been packing boxes, lifting all kinds of heavy shit with my shirt off. I’ve made a point of kissing her just the way she likes to be kissed. I’ve brought her flowers. Last night I gave her the ultimate neck rub. She was putty in my hands!”

  For a moment no one said anything, the sound of Incubus drifting through the air above the cacophony of a hundred conversations.

  Will drew deeply on his brew, knowing full well he was in shit-deep trouble. He’d called Lissy from Broncos team camp to tell her he was going out with the guys and that she shouldn’t wait for him for dinner.

  “You’re going to see them all Saturday night at your bachelor party,” she’d said, clearly disappointed he was evading whatever trap she’d laid for him tonight.

  But he needed to regroup, to come up with a new game plan.

  “If I were you, I’d just give up,” Scott offered. “Pink cummerbunds—what’s that compared to what Lissy’s got cookin’?”

  “I’d have given up Tuesday,” Robert said, dragging a chip through dip.

  Nick nodded. “I’d never have agreed to the stupid bet in the first place.”

  Devon placed a reassuring hand on Will’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to these losers, Will. You’ve been outclassed, that’s all. But you can take her. You just got to give as good as you get. Tomorrow, when she starts to grease that fine thing, you go on over and help her out. Grease it for her.”

  Will nearly choked.

  Will was awake when Lissy came tiptoeing in the next morning. When she dropped her towel and reached for the scented skin cream, he turned on the bedroom lamp. “I was wondering when you’d get here. It’s time for my morning skin show.”

  She whirled around and saw him just as he wanted to be seen—sitting up in their bed, his arms folded behind his head, his naked body fully exposed. He watched as her gaze traveled over him, felt the satisfaction of knowing she appreciated what she saw.

  She lifted her chin, looked away, removed the lid from the jar of scented cream and scooped a creamy dollop with her fingers. She rubbed the cream between her palms, lifted a long leg to rest her foot on the bed and began to work her way from ankle to thigh.

  “Now the other one,” Will said, already hard. “But stand at the foot of the bed—and spread your legs farther apart this time.”

  Her green eyes flew wide, and a crimson blush crept up her skin from her breasts to her cheeks. But she did as he asked, moving to stand at the foot of the bed, her legs shoulder-width apart. Then she scooped more cream from the jar and lifted her other leg.

  “I can see your clit—just the tip of it peeking out—and your rosy inner lips. Remember what it feels like when I suck them into my mouth? Hmm?”

  He heard her breathing quicken, saw her hands falter. But she said nothing.

  Then she reached for the skin cream again, rubbed it between her palms and slid her hands over her hips to her ass.

  “Turn around. Yeah, like that.” He watched her hands slide slowly over her rounded, white ass cheeks and felt his erection thicken. “God, I love your ass, Lissy. I want to nip it. I want to squeeze it. I want to rub my hands over it while you’re bent over and I’m fucking you.”

  Lissy heard the bed shift, felt his feet hit the floor, and spun to face him, certain now she’d made a terrible mistake. He was taking his revenge.

  “Let me help with that, sugar.” His cock standing rigid against his abdomen, he strode over to her, then dragged his fingers through her scented cream.

  A strong arm snaked around her waist, turned her away from him. Then his hands, hot and slick, began to move over her buttocks, cupping her, shaping her, making her shiver.

  A rush of heat flared deep in her belly, leaving her wet and wanting. “This is cheating.”

  “Don’t talk to me about cheating. You’ve been torturing me with this little display every morning. I’m just taking my due.” His hands left her body, returned with more cream. “I wonder—are you wet, Lissy?”

  His slathered hands reached around, rubbed her inner thighs, then slid slowly upward, the tips of his fingers grazing her labia, parting her, flicking her already swollen clitoris. Her knees turned to water, and she sank back into him.

  “Mmmm, you are wet. You want me.” Then he pressed himself against her, his cock a hard ridge against her back. “Just like I want you.”

  He held her against him with one arm, scooped up more cream.

  “I-I can do this myself.” It was a pathetic attempt, but it was the most she could do.

  “You can, but I’m not going to let you. Not this time.” He rubbed his hands slowly over the curves and hollows of her hips and belly, moving slowly upward, inch by agonizing inch, until her nipples puckered in anticipation of his touch.

  When he finally closed his hands over her, it was heaven, his fingers tugging and teasing her slippery, aching crests, sending sharp tremors of pleasure to her belly, making her inner muscles clench and her body shake with raw, flaming lust. Her breath broke, and she moaned his name. “Oh, God, Will!”

  Without warning, he released her, and she heard a drawer slide open. She turned to find him digging through delicate, lacy lingerie as if it were tube socks.

  “What—?”

  “Perfect.” He held a black satin corset out to her, motioned for her to turn around.

  She did as he demanded, raising her arms so he could tuck the satin and stays beneath her breasts, then gasping when he began to lace her with sharp tugs. Whether it was the corset or her level of arousal, she could scarcely breathe.

  Next, he sat her on the edge of the bed, knelt between her parted thighs and rolled black silk stockings up her legs, fastening them in place with the garters. Then he sat back on his heels, caressed her naked inner thighs and raked her with his hungry gaze. “I bet you’re wet enough to take all of me in one thrust.”

  Lissy’s answer was a frustrated moan. She felt the flesh between her thighs pulse, every nerve in her body aching to be fucked, words of surrender on her tongue. His cock was so close, just inches away, hard and thick. She bit her lower lip, felt her inner muscles contract as she imagined how it would feel to have him inside her—the sweet stretch, the slippery friction, the velvet-steel stroke. Oh, God, she wanted him, was more than ready to take him.

  One more touch, just one more, and she’d give in.

  He stood, pulled her to her feet and toward her closet, then jerked a periwinkle silk dress off its hanger. “Put this on
.”

  She bit back a disappointed groan, did as he asked, turning so he could zip her, her body thrumming with desire so intense it felt like torture.

  He closed it with a jerk. “Have a good day at the paper. The coaches have some private time scheduled for the team today, so I’ll probably be home early.”

  Then he kissed her on the cheek and walked off toward the shower looking like some kind of pagan god, bare-ass naked and still erect.

  Lissy found it hard to concentrate at work. The rasp of lace against her thigh, the pinch of stays, the caress of silk against her bare bottom reminded her constantly of what Will had done this morning. Her body seemed to be in a state of constant arousal—hypersensitive, tense, burning. She’d been a single heartbeat from losing the bet. If he had pushed her any harder . . .

  She was in trouble. How could she go home to him tonight when she was already wet and aching for him? How could she face him again when one touch was going to drive her over the edge? How could she possibly counter his latest strategy?

  She needed help.

  She cornered Holly at lunchtime and practically begged her to come over. “We’ll rent any DVD you want to watch, and I’ll buy your favorite ice cream. All you have to do is be there.”

  Holly gave her a knowing smile. “He’s really gotten to you, - hasn’t he?”

  “Oh, God, you have no idea!”

  “I wish I could help, Lissy, truly, I do. But it’s Friday night. I have a date. I hope to be getting laid myself.”

  Of course. Holly always had a date. Why hadn’t Lissy thought of that?

  Next she tried Sophie, but Sophie also had plans.

  “I’m going to a movie with my brother—nothing exciting. Sorry, Lissy.”

  Lissy found Tessa at her desk, poring over police reports and sipping a designer latté. She explained her situation and pleaded for Tessa’s help. “Please say you don’t have a date.”

  “Me? Have a date? You must be joking. Sure, I’ll come over.”

  Will was already home when they got there. Lissy parked next to his pickup, waited in the oppressive dry heat for Tessa to stow her car in visitor parking, then guided her through the Cone Zone, which seemed to have grown since this morning.