Body of Work (12 page)

“Make me a deal?” she asked, tilting her head to catch his lowered eyes.

“Name it.”

“No more walking away while things are all jumbled.”

“That’s it? You don’t want to ask for something bigger, or more important?” He had to smile. Almost laughed. He’d expected her to ask for no more rough play or telling her what to do, sexually. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

“You’re smiling, but I’m being serious.”

The little shove she attempted made it worse, in terms of the grin stretching across his face and the blood flow to his cock. “Sorry.”

“This
is
important. We were friends before we got all, um,” she glanced down to where the hard bulge in his shorts met the apex of her cut-offs, “friendly. I’d hate to lose that because of, you know…”

“Stuff that happens.”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll take that deal.”

She lifted one hand from his shoulder and waggled it in front of him. “Should we shake on it?”

God, she was cute. And he was going to go to hell for tarnishing her halo, among other things. “I’d rather
you
shake on it—with
it
being my tongue.” He went to his knees. Pushed the skimpy piece of gray jersey between her legs to one side and feasted his eyes on bare skin. “Commando. Nice. Convenient too.”

“You can’t do—
that
—now.” She attempted to scootch away from his advancing mouth. “I’m sweaty from the workout.”

“I’ve licked your pussy after it had a much harder workout than this morning’s boot camp, remember?” The fingers in his hair said yes, she did. “You tasted like heaven then, just like you will now.”

“What about other people?”

“They’ll have to find their own piece of heaven, I’m not sharing mine.”

“You big jerk, you know what I meant.”

He loved her giggle. That, and a growing list of other things about her, including her capacity for forgiveness and second or third chances. He shifted position so that one of his Nike cross-trainers sat squarely on the ground, his knee bent at ninety degrees.

“Put your foot up here, on my leg.” No hesitation, no questions asked, she simply obeyed. He loved that too. “If anybody goes by, they’ll think I’m tying your shoe.”

She snorted. “Because a thirty-two-year-old woman can’t do that for herself.”

“If you’d rather tie your own shoe…” He swept his tongue upward, circled her clit a few times before sucking it between his teeth and making her moan. He pulled back, smiled up at her. “I can always sit back and watch you do it.”

She shook her head. Bit into her juicy bottom lip. “I like the way you tie it.”

“Single or double knotted?”

“Better stick with single.”

That sounded suspiciously like skepticism. “You don’t think I can do a double for you here?” Her little shrug said it all. Challenge accepted.

He kept one hand securely around the ankle positioned on his quadriceps. With the other, he spanned her opposite thigh. A bit of pressure and she opened wider. He leaned in, got his tongue under her clit and jiggled it back and forth, hard and fast. No teasing around the edges this time, straight to the prize.

Her hips moved with his rhythm, briefly, then slowed. Retreated. He switched to long laps with the flat of his tongue. Looked up to gauge what she needed—faster, gentler, harder? Her smile didn’t hide her nervousness. Ah. What she needed wasn’t physical.

One side of the pavilion faced the pond. Two sides had gardens blocking access. He darted his eyes to the fourth side. All clear. “Nobody’s around to see.”

“I know.”

So it wasn’t that. He drew back, kissed the inside of her knee, then along the inside of her leg. The closer he got to her center, the more the muscles in her legs tightened. He knew how to get her off and she wasn’t worried about getting caught. That left one thing—he hadn’t put her other concern to rest.

He pressed his nose to her thigh. “You smell so good. Like oranges and spice and everything nice.”

“That’s not how the rhyme goes.”

“No, but it’s how you go, and I love it.” He kept his eyes on her face as he moved higher, right back to where he wanted to be. “Breathing you in is never enough. Now that I’ve had more, I can’t go without. I need to lick you and suck you, because you taste as good as you smell.”

“Sometimes, maybe.”

“Every time.” He dipped his tongue inside her, withdrew it and licked his lips. “Including right now.” Another swipe along her pussy, this time suckling her clit at the end. “It’s killing me not to lay you out on this table, press your legs wide open and bury my entire face between your legs for my own personal picnic. I’m hard as a rock and it’s because of you.”

Her eyes were glassy now. This time, when he focused his attention on her clit, she tilted to meet him. As hungry for his mouth as his mouth was for her.

Above him, she moaned. Threaded her fingers through his hair. Her touch trailed lower, to his beard. “I love the way this feels, soft to my fingers but all rough when it’s against the rest of my skin.”

Fuck, she knew how to push his buttons. He shook his head, making sure his beard rubbed good and hard all over her thighs and pussy. She rewarded him by raking her nails over his scalp while pulling him closer. Yeah, that’s how it should be. His hips thrust of their own accord. He feasted on Cassie like the starved beast he was, his fingers digging in where he held her, goddamn growling as he licked and sucked and nipped. No finesse, just fucking devouring her. If he didn’t lose it when she came, it’d be a fucking miracle.

She gave a whispered, “Oh god, now—
now
”, her thighs shuddering as she closed her legs around his ears while curling her body over his head. Her racing heart thumped its beat into his head. Ragged breathing heated his cheek as she whispered again, “Somebody’s in the pavilion.”

A slight turn to one side brought a lone man into sight. Late-sixties probably, quietly spreading a newspaper on one of the dozen or so empty tables.

“Shit.” Subtly, Brian rearranged Cassie’s shorts. Lifted his head level with her stomach. “Keep hugging me, he’ll think we’re having a couples’ moment.”

“
I
just had a moment, that’s for sure.”

He chuckled, wrapped his arms around her tighter. “Sorry I didn’t get to tie that double knot for you.”

“Single, double, I don’t care. You can tie my shoes anytime.”

“I plan to.” Between Cassie grinding her hips against him and the sweet scent of arousal from her orgasm surrounding him, his hard-on didn’t stand a chance of deflating. Another glance told him the man who’d joined them in the pavilion planned to stay awhile. Ready or not, it was time to go.

“Oh my,” she said as he stood, eyes locked on his loaded gun. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you it’s rude to point?”

“The same rule applies to staring, cutie.” And, much as he liked her eyeballing his cock, especially with that sexy glaze in her eyes, the attention wasn’t helping divert his blood back to the rest of his body. He pulled her up, off the edge of the table and into his arms.

“Are we faking another couples’ moment to get you out of here with a modicum of decency?”

“Nothing fake about it when I’m with you.” The way she looked up at him right before throwing her arms around his neck was the best incentive not to fuck things up he could get—because if it wasn’t love, exactly, it was close enough. He hugged her tight as possible without breaking her and nuzzled the top of her head. “Now how about getting me out of here with that decency you mentioned.”

She nodded and giggled, turning inside the circle of his arms. “One human shield, at your service.”

“You really ought to be careful what you offer.” Especially to a guy like him. He nudged her ass with the hard reminder, making her giggle again as she started walking.

The man with the newspaper snagged Brian’s peripheral vision. He’d abandoned the Sunday edition to watch them, and made no bones about nodding an acknowledgment at Brian now that he’d been caught.

“She looks happy, I guess that means your girl said yes?” the man asked from across the pavilion. “Nice to see some traditionalism still hanging in there, what with you down on bended knee and all.”

Well, goddamn. The man thought he’d witnessed a marriage proposal.

Brian slid his arms tighter around Cassie’s waist. Gave a squeeze. “Tell the man what he wants to know—did my girl say yes or no?” He smiled while asking, kept his tone light, but held his breath just the same while waiting for her answer.

“Yes. Without a doubt, she said yes.”

* * * * *

Hard to believe the direction the day had taken. Cassie twirled her way out the back door, down the handful of concrete steps and onto the lawn. The grass tickled her bare feet as she practically fairy-danced to her garden. The backyard was due for mowing, but it’d keep. Brian might not mind her being a hot, sweaty mess—he’d certainly proven
that
in the pavilion—but she planned to be fresh as the daisies she was pinching from the flowerbed when he showed up for dinner.

An actual date. Hanging out, eating a meal together and talking, things people do—with their clothes
on
—when they like each other. Not that she had any problem with their spontaneous hook-ups. No woman in her right mind would turn those down, but as she’d gotten to know Brian the past couple months, she’d fantasized about having more than sex with him. And after the way he’d looked at her in the park earlier, the sweet things he’d said…gah.

She couldn’t help being hopeful. He knew about her work, and though it’d obviously thrown him initially, he seemed willing to accept it. She didn’t blame him for the gruff remarks he’d made and since apologized for. It’s not every day you discover that the woman you’ve just gotten involved with gets paid to take pictures of couples having sex. Thank god he hadn’t reacted the way Lance had—with greedy, over-interested enthusiasm—or she’d be shopping for a new gym instead of preparing for a romantic night with her very personal trainer.

She arranged the daisies in a glass vase, setting it on one side of the white-linen-covered patio table. Add a grouping of pillar candles in assorted shades of green around the base and, voilà. She stood back for a look. Pretty. Nicer than any of the restaurants she’d frequented in the past year—though on her rigid, self-imposed budget, that wasn’t saying much. Brian had offered to take her anywhere tonight. His treat. When she’d suggested staying in, he’d pressed her against the side of his Jeep and showed her how much he approved of the idea by kissing her senseless. Best reward ever for being thrifty.

Cassie turned at the sound of said Jeep as it rumbled to a stop in her driveway. For months now, she’d seen Brian five-or-so times a week. Talked, joked and flirted. More recently, she’d seen him gloriously naked and enjoyed every solid inch. The familiarity didn’t diminish a thing. A twister of butterflies whipped around in her stomach, raced higher to kick-start frenzied pounding in her heart, then zoomed to the top floor, making her lightheaded. Because, good god, look at him. In slow motion with the option to freeze frame, if possible.

As usual, the Jeep had no doors. The profile of Brian’s body in the driver’s seat, his biceps bulging as he grabbed the overhead roll bar, his long, muscular legs swinging out of the opening, gave her the jelly knees. She grabbed the back of a patio chair with both hands. Mentally instructed her bottom lip to come back up and join the top one.

“You look,” his eyes did a deliberate, heat-inducing inspection, “amazing.”

She had to glance down. The way he’d perused her made her question whether she’d remembered to put clothes on after her shower. Yup, fully dressed. Tight jeans with a wide belt, topped by a form-fitting red t-shirt with pretty scalloped edging around its low-cut neckline. Patterned sneakers that’d cost five bucks at Walmart. Nothing fancy, but he didn’t seem to mind. Go figure. “Thanks. So do you.”

He smiled. “I brought wine.”

“Great.” Very date-like so far. She tilted her head as he leaned into the backseat. “So is your butt.” Always, but the khaki cargo shorts made it mouthwatering. “And your back,” she added as he straightened. Then turned. Was that even a real t-shirt, or black body paint? “Put chest, shoulders and arms on that list too.”

He laughed, one low, easy chuckle. Closed the distance between them in a handful of strides. “If we’re cataloging assets, I have a lot more to say about you than ‘amazing’.”

The canvas shopping bag in his hand thudded to the grass by her feet. He reached around her to place a bottle of red wine on the table, an act that trapped her between his massive body and the chair. The golden-ginger hair on his forearms tickled her skin. Forget the slow, normal, first-date stuff—she plastered herself to the front of him.

“You’re like catnip. I want to rub my body against you and purr.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” His fingertips slid under the hemline of her top. “I like it when you purr.”

“What about when I scratch?” She raked her fingernails upward, through his hair. “Or bite?”

His groan barely registered before he cupped the back of her head and tipped it. Not for a kiss. For access to the side of her neck, which he claimed with his teeth. Heat radiated from the spot and spread under her skin as she wiggled against him, desperate for more.