Any Way You Want Me (11 page)

Yasmine smiled as she lifted the dusty top off the box. “That’s sweet, but you probably hate snow globes too.”

“
Hate
is a strong word.”

“You do hate them!”

“I like anything that makes you smile as much as that San Francisco snow globe did.”

Each globe in the box was wrapped in tissue paper, and when she unwrapped the first one, she saw that it was from Istanbul. She shook it, and snow fell on the brilliant blue roof of the Aya Sofia.

“Now there’s an event you don’t see every day—snow on the blue mosque.”

“I bought this one at a Sunday bazaar. I remember my mother and I were the only women there that day, and dressed in Western clothes no less.”

“Were you freaked out?”

“I thought it was a great adventure. It never occurred to me to be freaked out.”

She handed the small plastic globe to him and took out the next one. It was from Paris. Inside the globe, a tiny replica of the city’s most famous attractions stood unnaturally close to each other. The Eiffel tower next to Nôtre Dame, which was only a fraction of a space from the Louvre, which sat just below the hilltop Sacre Coeur. Yasmine turned it upside down, then right side up again, and snow fell on the plastic tourist attractions.

“Ah, Paris,” Kyle said.

“Have you ever been?”

“Once, on a whirlwind tour of Europe during college. I don’t remember much.”

“Oh, come on, how could you forget anything about Paris?”

He smiled. “Okay, I remember lots of pretty, well-dressed women. And a long line at the Eiffel tower. How’s that?”

“Just like a man.”

He took the snow globe and shook it himself. “How so?” he asked, playing dumb.

“You go to one of the most romantic, unforgettable cities in the world and don’t notice most of it because you’re too busy staring at the women.” She tried to look offended, but really, it was just so typical, she could hardly find offense.

He shrugged. “Hey, I was twenty, and it was a quick
visit. I tried to focus on the important stuff. What can I say?”

She grabbed a green beaded pillow from the bed and walloped him with it.

“Ouch, those beads sting.”

He put the Paris globe away, and Yasmine took out another one, unwrapped it, and smiled at the gaudy little London scene, a souvenir she’d bought from a sidewalk vendor. When she looked up at him, she caught that serious look again.

“What’s wrong?”

“Other than the physical abuse?” He smiled, but it looked forced this time.

“You’ve been in a mood ever since lunch.”

“I guess I just hate to see the weekend end, you know?”

Did she ever. “Me, too. I feel like we’ve been on vacation from life or something.”

“We have been. I’ve done stuff this weekend I haven’t done at all since moving to San Francisco. Next stop, Alcatraz.”

“We’ll save that for another weekend,” she said before catching herself.

Would there be another weekend? Could there be? Did either of them really want it? She tried to imagine again letting their weekend fling turn into a relationship and invade their real lives, and butterflies stirred in her belly.

Kyle gave her a look that was both warm and curious. “Are you okay with going back to work tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

“It’s going to be a little odd. I mean, since we decided at the outset that we’d keep this out of the office—”

“Right, and we should.”

Why couldn’t she just tell Kyle she was falling for him? Why couldn’t she get past her fears? But she of all people should have known that taking things too far could lead to disaster. This weekend fling was a lot like her short-lived reentry into the world of hacking when she’d helped take down terrorist Web sites. It had given her a thrill, and then she’d kept her control. She’d walked away.

Her gut told her walking away from Kyle was the right thing to do, too. The safe thing to do.

Her inner wild child longed to invite him to stay the night again, but instead she put away her snow globe collection and suggested she had laundry to do to get ready for work.

Kyle glanced at his watch. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Guess I should be heading home and doing the same.”

Yasmine stood up from the bed and he followed her. She tried to think of something to say but couldn’t.

Kyle took her hand and pulled her close. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work, okay?”

“Okay, but—”

“We won’t mention this weekend.” His expression turned serious.

Yasmine sighed. “Right. I’ll give you a ride home.”

She placed a kiss on his cheek, which seemed ridiculous given their recent intimacy, but suddenly she felt stiff and standoffish. He quickly gathered his things, and they headed out the door, which should have been a relief for Yasmine.

But they rode back to his place in an uncomfortable silence, all the things they should have said but didn’t hanging between them. In front of Kyle’s apartment, they said an awkward goodbye, and Yasmine drove
home feeling utterly confused, torn by the conflicting ideas that this weekend had either been the most exciting thing she’d done in a long time or a huge mistake.

Or both.

The moment she was alone in her apartment, her feelings of paranoia and loneliness returned with a vengeance. She’d made a mistake sending Kyle away so brusquely. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop thinking about the whole idea of fantasy fulfillment, and how much she wanted to do for him what he’d done for her. So after she’d started the laundry and cleaned up her apartment, she picked up the phone and called Cass.

“How’s Mr. Wonderful?” Cass asked when she heard Yasmine’s voice.

“He’s gone home now, but we had a rather steamy Christmas together.”

“I could tell. There were major sex vibes in the air the other night between you two.”

“There were not!”

“Please. You looked at each other like you were starving.”

“That could have been because of your cooking, you know.”

“Oh, you did not just go there.”

“Sorry. Really, thank you so much for having us over, and in the future, please don’t feel like it would be rude to order pizza delivery.” Yasmine laughed, only because she knew Cass could make fun of herself.

“Please come get this damn
bûche de Noël
. Even the homeless guy on my block won’t eat it.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to foist that thing off on the less fortunate.”

“I know. I bought him a new pair of shoes to make up for the offense.”

“I hope you can extend that sense of generosity to a less-needy person in your life. Namely me. I need a favor,” Yasmine said.

“Oh? After you insulted my cooking?”

“I’m truly sorry. Now do you think you could hook me up with a private peep show room at the Pink Pussycat?”

“Whoa, mama. Back up there for a sec.”

She could almost see Cass’s perplexed look over the phone.

“I owe Kyle a little fantasy experience, okay? I need a peep show room to do it, and I was hoping you could talk to the manager at the club, pull a few strings…I’m willing to pay, of course.”

“So you need a room, but not a girl.”

“Of course no girl—
I’m
the girl in the fantasy!”

“Hey. You never know how many girls might appear in a guy’s fantasy.”

“True, but I’m not down with that.”

“I’ll see what I can do. When do you need the room?”

“Um…I was kind of hoping for today.”

“I’ll call you back,” Cass said.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until I get you what you want to grovel at my feet.”

Yasmine hung up the phone and sat at the computer, then opened her e-mail program. She downloaded her e-mail and smiled when she saw a message from Kyle among the junk mail, right below a spam e-mail with the subject header:

Impress Your Girl with a Huge Cum Shot.

Okay.

She’d only dropped him off at his place an hour ago, so the fact that he’d already written her was totally intriguing.

The subject line read, “Forgot to say…” and when she opened the message, her smile grew.

I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Does midnight count as tomorrow? If you’re reading this before bed, do you mind if I stop back by? I don’t think I can wait until daybreak to see you.

By the time stamp on the message, she could tell he’d sent it about ten minutes ago, so she hit reply and typed:

Are you still online?

She got a little thrill when her program chimed notification of new mail in her inbox a few seconds later. Closing her Web browser, she saw a reply from Kyle waiting for her.

Yes, I’m here. Meet me in IRC?

He listed the URL of a private Internet relay chat room, and Yasmine followed the link he’d sent to the room.

There she found Dark Horse waiting for her. She typed:

What’s with the name?

I’m in a dark mood.

What’s wrong?

All this distance.

I don’t get it.

You. Me. Too much distance between us.

Yasmine smiled, a little chill skittering over her at the thought of Kyle already missing her. She typed:

So come back over.

Wouldn’t that seem a little odd?

To who? Me? You?

Yeah.

I don’t think you need to worry.

Maybe we should be practicing restraint.

She laughed and typed:

Re-
what?
I’m not familiar with that word.

I noticed. Not that I’m complaining or anything.

You like my lack of restraint?

I’m a heterosexual male. I love your lack of restraint.

So what’s the problem?

I need to get some actual sleep tonight, or my ass is going to be dragging tomorrow.

Me, too. We’re a bad influence on each other.

How about we take care of our little problem right here. Online?

Yasmine was definitely liking the sound of a little online sex relief, but the phone rang. She typed:

Hold on a sec. Got a phone call.

She picked it up.

“I arranged a room for you,” Cass said without introduction. “And you can have it right now if you want.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, Cass! I owe you for this.”

“You’d better believe you do. Meet me for Pilates on Thursday?”

“Do I really owe you that much?” Yasmine said, wincing at the idea of rolling and crunching herself into muscle cramps.

“Yes, you do. When you arrive at the club, just go in the front door, head for the back, take a left in the hallway and go into room number nine. From there, you can ask around if you need help with anything else.”

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Yasmine said before she hung up the phone again.

Turning her attention back to the computer, she typed:

I’ve got a better idea. Can I swing by and pick you up in fifteen minutes?

“I
HAVE A SURPRISE
for you,” Yasmine said as she killed the car engine.

Alex peered out the passenger window and a saw that they’d stopped in front of the Pink Pussycat, an upscale strip club that catered to men with money to burn. Surely not their final destination. This just happened to be where she could find parking.

“What did I do to deserve a surprise?”

“You fulfilled my fantasy, remember? Now I want to fulfill yours.”

“But…how—”

She leaned over the emergency brake and kissed him, ending his question. “Don’t ask how. I’ve got connections.”

He cast a glance at the Pink Pussycat again. “You mean, we’re going in there?”

“They’ve got peep show rooms.”

For once, Alex found himself stunned speechless. He’d told her about his peep show fantasy on a lark. It was something he’d never told anyone and something he’d never imagined actually doing.

“We really don’t need to do this, you know. Some fantasies aren’t meant to be acted out.”

“Hush,” she said. “Just get out of the car.”

She got out, and Alex followed suit, trying to imagine just what she had planned. He walked with her to the entrance of the club and followed her inside, where dark corridors were lit with blue lights. After following a velvet-roped walkway, they emerged in the main club.

A large, U-shaped bar dominated one side of the club, and a stage dominated the other side. Dance music blared from speakers overhead, and on stage, a lone blonde did a pole dance for an audience of eight or ten guys.

He watched Yasmine’s gaze slide over the whole scene without reacting. While he, on the other hand, found his natural guy instincts having a hard time looking away from the near-naked female in the room. He forced himself to keep his eyes on Yasmine.

She flashed a mysterious smile and took his hand. “I think the peep show is this way,” she said as she led him toward the back of the club.

God help him. This woman, this setting, this crazy weekend—he was pretty sure the rest of his life was going to be damn dull in comparison. But he followed Yasmine anyway. If this was going to be the most exciting weekend of his life, he might as well take full advantage, peep show and all.

Yasmine stopped at a door bearing a sign that read Private and opened it. “Have a seat in here,” she said.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be in soon. No more questions.” Her eyes full of mischief, Alex felt himself growing hard in his pants. So damn predictable.

“Okay, but hurry,” he said as she urged him inside the small room and closed the door.

Alone, he found himself with a comfortable recliner chair, a side table bearing a drink, and nothing else. He sat and saw the sliding panel on the wall, right at his viewing level. For a peep show. His erection grew. He leaned back in his chair and picked up the perspiring glass of amber liquid.

A sip confirmed that it was whiskey and Coke, and he tried to focus on the burning sweet taste of it, tried not think too much about what may or may not be about to happen on the other side of the peep show panel. Yasmine had been full of surprises, and today was no exception. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up, or imagine the wrong thing, or…

He heard footsteps on the other side of the panel, and he set the drink aside, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The position put him inches from the peep show panel. A sultry dance song began to play over the speakers, and the panel slid open.

He peered through and saw a woman dancing, rocking her hips to the beat. It only took a second for his brain to register that the woman was Yasmine.

Her arms lifted overhead, she moved her hips back and forth, around and around, in a dance that was blatantly erotic without being raunchy. She wore a black latex bra and panties, with thigh-high black boots, and she didn’t look at him. Rather, she danced as if no one was there, as if no one was watching.

She twirled slowly around, giving him a view of her firm, perfect ass clad in thong panties, and the air left his lungs. He reminded himself to breathe—in, out, in, out.

Sweet heaven, she was hot.

Yasmine trailed her hands down her torso as she
danced, then up again, cupping her breasts, lingering over her nipples, and then slowly unclasping her bra in front. When it fell down over her shoulders, she let it drop to the floor, then continued to fondle her breasts without the hindrance of fabric.

Alex’s cock strained against his pants, and he wondered if it was acceptable to jack off in a situation like this. Or was he supposed to wait until she’d finished her dance and came to him?

When she pushed her breasts up and together, then dipped her head and licked herself, first one nipple, then the other, he didn’t have any will left to hold out. He unfastened his pants in a hurry and started stroking his cock.

Abandoning her breasts, she slid her hands back down her torso, and as her hips gyrated, she hooked her thumbs in the sides of her panties and slid them slowly down her hips, turning as she did so. She bent over, giving him a full view of her pussy, and stepped out of the panties, then kicked them aside.

Another gyrating turn put her face forward again, and still, she made no eye contact with him. She seemed totally into herself, into the dance, completely focused on her own body, and the effect was seriously hot. He slowed the stroking of his cock to keep from coming too soon, and watched enthralled as she dipped her fingers between her legs and started stroking herself.

Oh, hell. He wanted her like crazy.

He’d broken out in a sweat. Could feel it dripping down the insides of his arms, felt it on his brow and upper lip. His entire body was heating up, tensing, overcome with that same trembling desire he’d come to associate with Yasmine.

Still stroking herself, she spread her legs and started working her way downward into a squat, ending with her legs spread wide in front of the peep show panel. She reclined on one arm and continued to stroke. Alex’s mouth went dry as he watched her fingers glide between her lips, inside her opening, out again, in again.

She was moaning now, her eyes closed, her show completely convincing, outrageously erotic. The music changed from the midtempo dance beat to something slower, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Get your hot little ass in here,” he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him for the first time. Stopped stroking herself and leaned forward. “No talking allowed,” she said in a breathy little voice.

“This was fun and all, but I’m going to come in my pants if you don’t get over here, and I’d much rather come in you.”

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re not allowed to interact with the customers.” She gave him a look that was pure steam. “Now please, sit back and enjoy the show.”

From somewhere he couldn’t see, she produced a shiny black dildo. Crawling back away from the window again, she held the dildo to her mouth and licked it the same way she’d licked him, and, on her knees now, her legs spread wide, she gyrated her body slowly to the beat as she brought the dildo down between her legs and stroked it against her clit.

Alex’s breath grew quick and shallow, and he all but abandoned his own pleasure as he found his attention completely focused on watching hers. Her eyes were closed again, her face softened with pleasure, her mouth
open as she moaned and gasped. When she pushed the dildo inside herself, he nearly came.

A few more strokes, and he’d be there. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t miss a second of this show. She moved the rubber cock inside herself, clearly lost in her own pleasure, seemingly oblivious to the sweet, delicious pain she was causing him.

And then she brought it back out, caressing her breast with one hand and stroking the dildo against her clit with the other, rocking her hips against it, gasping hard…. He could see the tension building in her body, could see the moment before her release, so when she gave that final cry of pleasure, he knew it as if it were his own body.

Wanted to be there as if it were his own body. Felt weak and spent as if it was him and not her.

She recovered, and for the second time, made eye contact with him. She crawled to the small window. “I hope you enjoyed the show,” she said in that same sex-kitten voice, right before shutting the panel in his face.

Alex looked down at his forlorn cock resting outside his pants. Surely she didn’t mean to leave him hanging. That definitely wasn’t part of the fantasy.

But just in case, he eased his boxers and pants back over his erection and did his best to zip up. Suddenly the small black room with the dim lights appeared to him as the airless box it was, and he wondered if he was supposed to leave now or stay put.

Unsure, hot and frustrated, he downed his drink in a few swallows and then rubbed the damp glass over his forehead to cool himself off.

A second later the door opened, and Yasmine stepped
in and closed it behind her. She was wearing a white robe and the black boots, and when she let the robe fall open, he saw that she was still naked beneath it.

He opened his mouth to commend her performance, but she shushed him before he could get a word out.

“I’m not supposed to consort with the customers.” Still with the sex kitten voice. “But this once, I can make an exception.”

She shrugged off the robe and crossed the small space between them, then swiveled the recliner so that it faced away from the wall. Then she bent down and tugged the lever on the side of the chair so that it reclined all the way. That done, she climbed on and straddled him.

“There’s an extra charge for…personal services,” she said as she unzipped his pants and took out his cock.

“Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”

He saw now that she held a condom packet in her hand. She opened it and slid the rubber on him. “What sort of services would you like?”

This was so much hotter than his fantasy, so much better than what he could have imagined, he couldn’t think of anything but burying himself inside her at that moment.

“I want to be inside you.”

She mounted his cock. Since she was already wet from her own orgasm, he slid inside her with no resistance, and he expelled a pent-up sigh. Silently she began riding him, her movements slow and deliberate, her gaze locked on him.

With her breasts so close to his mouth, he couldn’t resist tasting them, couldn’t resist squeezing them to
gether and relishing their soft fullness against his hands, against his tongue. “Is that allowed?” he asked belatedly, enjoying their game more than he ever would have suspected.

“There will be an extra charge,” she said. “You kiss, you pay.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” she said, and he slid his hands over her torso, around her hips, to her ass.

He pressed her harder against him, coaxed her into a faster pace as the sweet tension mounted inside him. A few more strokes was all it would take, but he wanted her there with him, wanted to give her a little bonus for the hottest sex show he’d ever seen.

Slipping his fingers down, he caressed the cleft of her ass, dipped his fingers in, found her most sensitive spot and massaged her there. She gasped and ground against him, contracted around his cock, almost with him…A little more, and she’d be there…He pushed farther, flexed inside her, tried hard to hold himself back until just the right moment….

She came hard, bucked against him, cried out, and he let himself go, too. Just the way he’d wanted it. He spilled himself, felt the pure, white-hot release shooting out of him again and again, his cries mingling with hers until she collapsed against him.

He could feel her heartbeat, listened to their breathing, which slowed to normal again as minutes passed, and finally she stirred. She sat up and looked at him curiously.

“Merry Christmas,” she said. “It’s a little late, but I hope you liked it.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, unable to summon the
energy for full-on speech. “That’s the sexiest present I’ve ever had.”

The sexiest, the hottest, the most addictive. How he would ever convince himself to stop wanting Yasmine, he didn’t have a clue.

C
ASS HAD NEVER DONE IT
with a nerd. And now, on her way home from a perfectly wonderful dinner with Drew, she was torn between her physical desires and her more practical ones.

Decked out in her new baby-blue Christmas sweater, black leather skirt and matching knee-high boots, she’d dressed to get laid tonight, and, judging by the way Drew had stared at her throughout dinner, she was well on her way to achieving her goal.

But…

But what? She’d be a fool to let her unexpected fascination with Drew spoil her otherwise happy life. She’d finally figured out that she didn’t really want or need a man in her life, hadn’t she? She’d come to terms with her own unconventional desires, and now this? It was stupid. If she was as smart as she claimed to be, she’d take care of her physical urges and send Drew on his way before he caused any disruptions—before the inevitable crappiness that went along with every romantic relationship worked its way back into her life.

When Drew’s car stopped in front of her apartment, she knew without a doubt she wanted to invite him up and find out what nerd sex was all about. All night long, she’d been surprised by the way her expectations of him and reality failed to match up. She’d found him endear
ingly sweet and genuine and interesting to talk to—none of which helped with her plan to remain single and happy.

Here she was bucking the normal female response again. Wasn’t she supposed to be thrilled when she found a guy she really enjoyed being around? Wasn’t this cause for celebration rather than angst?

She’d been with all sorts of men, but different as they’d been—some lone wolfs, some party guys, some charismatic leaders—they had all shared the one indefinable quality that equaled coolness. Drew, cute and nice as he was, did not possess that quality.

And something about his unapologetic geekiness fascinated her in a way she never could have anticipated.

She’d lost her mind.

Drew cleared his throat and turned to her. “So…”