“I promise it’d be fun.”
“I bet it would be.” Liv’s lips parted as she felt herself moving toward him. She reached up and touched his chest, feeling a wall of muscle. She traced down until she felt the hard point of his nipple.
Before she knew it, she was up on her tiptoes, kissing him.
It wasn’t what she’d planned at all, but there she was, nibbling on his lower lip. He growled and moved in, pressing his body into hers. For a second she forgot about her family and what they might think; all she could focus on was how perfectly they fit together. She groped at the back of Porter’s strong neck, wrapping her fingers into his dark brown hair. His tongue parted her lips, lightly at first, and then when she met his, frantic energy took over. He tasted so good, all she wanted was to devour him whole. He leaned against her, insistent, and she felt him come to life. She was struck by a sudden, delicious thought: he had nothing to fear from being compared to the rabbit. Nothing at all, by the feel of things.
She should be worried about Paul coming out in the hall and finding them, or about anyone else for that matter, but she didn’t care. The kiss was too good.
The elevator dinged and Liv sprang away from Porter, who was breathing heavily, his eyes looking glazed. She moved past him into the elevator, sensing him staring at her legs as she went. Porter followed her in, plunking her bag down on the floor.
“You’re not getting off that easily,” he murmured, pulling her close.
“We’re getting off, are we?” Liv raised an eyebrow. Porter tugged her close, trailing kisses down her neck, to her coat and beyond. Then, nearly on his knees, he slipped his hands through the folds of her coat.
Liv watched as the numbers counted down from the penthouse at fifty-five.
“Oh, God,” Liv moaned, her back pressed against the wall of the elevator as Porter put his hand on her calf and worked it slowly up her inner thigh. He followed his hand with his mouth, leading a trail of dizzying warmth up her leg. She shuddered as his lips touched the softest part of her leg. He breathed in and whispered, “You smell so good. I just want to...”
Liv felt his warm breath on her skin as he explored upward with his hands, his fingers almost to her lace thong, which was drenched and warm. She forgot she was on an elevator and that Porter was the last man she ought to be making out with. She didn’t care about anything but the feeling of his hands on her skin. She clutched the metal railing of the elevator and groaned, arching her back a little. The last thing on earth she wanted was for him to stop. She’d never felt this way before: out of control with need. She felt like something deep inside her had been awakened, something she hadn’t even known was there.
She felt a gentle caress right there, on the damp black satin, and she gasped a little. But she didn’t fight him. She couldn’t.
“My, my...what do we have here?” he murmured as he went for the edge of her underwear, his finger slipping past the elastic.
But then the elevator dinged, breaking the spell, and the doors abruptly slid open.
The cold air of the lobby hit Liv’s skin and instantly, Porter withdrew. Liv’s coat flapped closed and she was struck with cold disappointment as Porter grabbed the bag from the corner and stood up. Liv tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving as Porter held open the elevator door with a devilish grin. Liv pushed her coat together again and pulled on the belt as she stalked out.
The doorman, wearing a suit, sat behind a console desk near the glass doors of the building, and watched her as she walked toward him. He had a half-smirk on his face, but she ignored him, as she flew out of the door.
Liv looked for her cab, but it was nowhere to be seen. Cars rushed by down a busy Clark Street. It had rained while she’d been at the party and the streetlights beamed up at her from the wet sidewalks. Out in the cool September air she came to her senses again. Porter might be enticing, but he wasn’t worth the risk. Not with her parents involved. She felt a stone in her stomach when she thought about having to explain her work.
“Olivia...”
“Call me Liv. Only my...only my parents call me Olivia.” Her lips still felt warm from his kiss. She rubbed them with her finger, wishing she didn’t feel like kissing him right there on the street, again.
“Okay, Liv.” Porter cocked his head as he held her bag. She noticed he didn’t shiver in the cold, even though he’d left his sweatshirt upstairs. Clearly, his hotness wasn’t just cosmetic, but seemed to radiate out from his muscles. “I won’t tell him, you know.”
Liv turned her attention from the cars on the street. “You won’t?” she asked, hopeful.
“I won’t. Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers.
“You were a Boy Scout?” Liv scoffed, not believing him.
“Nope. Sure wasn’t.” He shrugged. Liv couldn’t help herself and laughed. “But I respect the institution. I won’t tell.”
“Good. He’d have a heart attack. And don’t get me started on Mom. She’d probably force me to join a convent.”
“They can’t be that bad. You’re...liberal.” He grinned.
Liv laughed, her breath visible in the sudden chill of the night. “I’m the liberal black sheep of the family, trust me. Sometimes, I think I was switched at birth.” Then again, given her very thin sexual history, she thought, she wasn’t quite so sure she was the black sheep. She thought of her meager two lovers, wondering if maybe her parents had rubbed off on her more than she thought.
“I won’t tell, but you have to do me a favor.” He ran a finger down the side of her arm.
“What?”
“You know what.” His eyes told her she was planning no games.
Liv’s heart kicked up a few notches. “The party? You’re serious.”
“I’m always serious about sex.” Porter’s brown eyes flashed with mischief.
Something about the way he looked made all her words dry up and shrivel in her throat. He stared at her as if he could already see her naked, and liked what he saw.
“Why don’t we have a party right now?”
“What? But Paul...”
“Paul has a lot of his other friends to keep him company.” Porter reached out and ran a finger through the belt loop of her raincoat. He tugged her closer. “I know you want to, Liv,” he whispered, his breath warm on her ear, and she felt her cheeks flush as she remembered him touching her in the elevator. Yes, he did know just how much she wanted to go.
“Porter...” Liv hesitated. Her body screamed yes, but her common sense said she’d be a fool to do it. She was in enough trouble without sleeping with him on top of it. And she was positive that if she let him into her cab right now and took him back to Wicker Park, she probably wouldn’t even make it to her bedroom before her panties were off. She’d just be digging herself in deeper. She needed to focus on damage control, not on white-hot sex with her father’s employee. “Won’t that be bad for you at work?” Liv couldn’t imagine it would be a very good career move.
“I know it’s a bad idea,” Porter said, stepping closer. “But, Liv...looking at you...” His eyes flicked downward. “I just can’t seem to help myself.”
“Looks like I’ll have to save you from yourself then,” Liv said, as a yellow cab pulled up by the curb. Porter leaned over, opening the door and putting her bag in. As she stood there, he pulled her close, so she could feel his warm hands through the raincoat on the small of her back.
“I promise I’ll be a gentleman,” he whispered, almost a growl.
“You mean, like how you were a Boy Scout?” Liv murmured, eyes on his full bottom lip. His brown eyes sparkled.
Porter laughed a little. “You’re too smart for me, Liv.”
“Used to seducing only the simpleminded, huh? Not much of a challenge, then.” She sent him her patented not this time smile, which she’d perfected in bars
across Wrigleyville.
A low grumble of a laugh escaped Porter’s throat as Liv ducked into the cab.
“You could make me up my game,” Porter said, dipping into the cab door. “Want to let me try?”
Liv laughed. “You call this game?” She gave him her best flirty half smile, unable to help herself. “You’re going to have to work harder than that.”
Porter laughed. “Fair enough,” he said as he leaned in the open door. “Okay, then a party next Friday. Seven. My place. Be there or...”
Liv felt nerves tingle on the backs of her legs. “Or what?” She held her breath, imagining Porter going back on his word and marching into her father’s office Monday morning with this little juicy bone of gossip. Fear squeezed her heart. Fear and something else...anticipation. As much as she didn’t want to be found out, she did want to see Porter again. Her whole body screamed to finish what they’d started in the elevator.
Porter grinned, showing off his dimple. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He slammed the car door then and thumped the top of the cab, which hit the gas, sending her back into her seat. She turned around on the black leather in time to see Porter, hands in his pockets, watching her go.
I’m in trouble, she thought as she bit her lower lip. I’m in big, big trouble.
Chapter Three
Liv woke Monday morning feeling a deep sense of dread. She’d managed to avoid thinking about Porter for most of Sunday, running from one errand to another, but now she had no distractions. Now all she could do was relive that kiss over and over again. She’d never felt one so...earth-shaking. Was that how it was supposed to be? Was it just because she’d had so few kisses? That single kiss was hotter than most of the sex she’d had in her life.
She felt herself tingle with the memory.
She sighed. If a single kiss was so amazing, what would a sex toy party for one be like, she wondered.
Not that she could allow that to happen.
If she did, he would probably find out—first hand—just how inexperienced she was.
She knew what guys expected from a sex hostess. It was exactly what Kincaid had wanted when she’d let slip that was what she did for a living. When he’d convinced her to come back to his place, he’d been disappointed when she hadn’t pulled all means of entertainment out of her tiny black clutch.
She still remembered how indifferent he looked as he showed her the door afterward, as if he’d been disappointed by her, by the whole experience. A week later, she’d seen him kissing another girl at a neighborhood bar. She shouldn’t have been upset by it, but she was. Since then, she’d become an expert at keeping men at arm’s length.
She worried Porter would be just like him. Hot and heavy until he found out she didn’t know what she was doing. He’d find her out. Just like Kincaid had.
“He wants what?” Liv’s roommate, Jordan, said after Liv had told her everything. Jordan had just finished the early-morning shift as a barista, and she smelled strongly of espresso as she brushed out her ponytail in the bathroom mirror. She checked out her new neck tattoo, a butterfly, before turning back to Liv. “You know he’s just after sex. Why else would he ask for a private party?”
“Yeah, I know. But I have half a mind to give it to him,” Liv said, scooting past her part-time punk roommate into the bathroom to grab her toothbrush. Together, they shared the small apartment not far from North Avenue and Damen, in the heart of Wicker Park. It was the first one they’d moved into after college graduation, back when Liv thought her dream marketing job would fall into her lap and Jordan was sure she’d land a record deal for her garage band. Three years later, both dreams were still on hold.
It was a miracle her parents even let her room with Jordan. Somehow, she’d managed to slip past their defenses, mostly because she was a good egg, despite the tattoos. It had been Jordan who’d skipped a final so she could take Liv to student health when she’d come down with a very late and very serious case of chicken pox junior year. Her parents loved Jordan for it and were able to overlook the fact she played drums in a rock band.
Jordan brushed out her short blond hair and barked a laugh. “I told you your dry spell was going on too long. This is what happens when girls don’t get laid. They get blackmailed.”
“He didn’t blackmail me!” Liv exclaimed.
“Didn’t he?” Jordan quirked an eyebrow. “He says he won’t tell your dad and then he asks for a party. Like they’re not connected?”
Liv’s mind whirled. “They’re not. He wouldn’t do something like that....”
“You sure?” Jordan challenged. “You think if you tell him no, he’ll take it nicely?”
Liv sighed, pushing a jet-black strand of hair out of her eyes. “No,” she admitted. She jammed the toothbrush in her mouth and scrubbed.
“That doesn’t mean you should do it,” Jordan said.
Jordan threw the towel back on the silver rack and retreated to her room as Liv finished brushing her teeth and spat.
“It does, though!”
Jordan shook her head. “You should just call his bluff. He’s got his job to lose, you know.”
Jordan winked as she shrugged out of her barista T-shirt, exchanging it for one that didn’t smell like stale coffee.
“The worst that can happen is you have to come clean with your dad. So what? “ Jordan kicked off her Converse shoes and plopped down in the center of the couch, reaching for her Mac.
Liv moaned. “You know he’d put me out of business. And then you’d have to take over for me.”
Jordan just cackled. “I couldn’t sell dildos and you know it. I can barely sell coffee and that practically sells itself.” It was true Jordan wasn’t a people person. She tended to be a bit blunt and to the point.
Liv heard the sounds of music as Jordan started to mix a new track before she plugged in her headphones. Liv cinched the belt tighter on her terry cloth robe and retreated back to her room, where she plopped on her bed and opened her laptop. She’d need to start working on her dream, too, landing a job she could talk about at Sunday dinner. The problem was nobody was hiring marketing writers these days, and even when she did land a job interview, she had the sticky situation of what she’d been doing for the last year. She’d been more than vague about her current work. And truth be told, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to do marketing. Her communications degree had been a fallback. She was still trying to figure out her dream job.
* * *
Liv’s phone dinged with an incoming message. Porter’s number flashed across her phone.
You playing with toys?
Liv felt her mouth go dry as she glanced at the clock. It was just before noon. Was he texting when her father was around? Or was he out to lunch? She thought about ignoring him, but her fingers whipped across the keys before she could stop them.
I’m not on the clock.
His response was lightning fast: You will be Friday.
His words made her shiver just a little. You’re serious about Friday? Really?
Better believe it. And I want the most thorough party possible. Full demonstrations on everything.
Liv couldn’t help but grin. That’ll cost you extra.
Liv had just hit Send when her phone lit up with an incoming call from her dad, which nearly gave her a heart attack. She fumbled with the phone, quickly grabbing her hands-free Bluetooth and answering it, as if somehow her dad could read her naughty texts from the other end of the line.
“H-hello?” she stammered, sounding guilty, just as she always did when she was caught red-handed.
“Everything all right, Olivia?”
“Uh...yeah...” Liv cinched the belt on her robe and pulled her legs up under her on her bed. She sat up straighter, even though he couldn’t see her slouch through the phone.
“So
rry to bother you at work,” her dad’s voice rumbled through the receiver. Work? Liv thought, confused. Then it hit her: of course, her fake job, the one her parents thought she went to every weekday from eight ’til six, in the far-flung burbs in a small company no one’s heard of.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ve got a minute. What’s up?” Liv slapped her laptop shut, too, as if her dad could miraculously read her online job listings, too.
“Uncle Robert is in town this weekend. We’re going to have a few people over at the house, maybe even grill some steaks or something. We want to make sure you can make it.”
Liv’s phone dinged again. She glanced at it.
I’ll pay whatever it takes.
She swallowed, hard, feeling hot and cold all at once. What was she doing? She was flirting with Porter, while her dad was on the line, and probably only a few office walls separated them. Nothing a good shout couldn’t get through.
“Olivia?” Her dad was still waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, it’s...uh...a bit hectic here. But, yeah, I can come. Sure.”
“Great. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Ok.” Liv was already trying to figure out what to text Porter next.
“Oh, and Liv...” Her dad cleared his throat on the other end. “Just wanted to tell you that we’re proud of you. With this new job, and making that first big step with your marketing career. I know your mother prayed for this to happen every day, and we’re both so happy that it came to pass. It just proves that God has big things in store for you.”
Liv felt as if someone had doused her with a bucket of cold water from Lake Michigan. She was completely sure that God’s plan for her did not involve battery-operated vibrators.
Boys and Toys Page 2
