If You Dare (3 page)

She knew good and well what was building up in him right then. And quite frankly, he found himself excited like he hadn’t been in years. But if she wanted anticipation, he could definitely do that.

He moved to the door. “Until tonight then.”

She followed him. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Joe nodded, regretting the party he’d planned. The last thing he wanted tonight was a room full of people, a room full of men. What he wanted was this woman alone, naked and in his bed.

”We’re starting at eight. You can come over earlier if you want.” Her smile hit a hundred watts as he talked, and Joe felt his breath catch. And in the second, he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not yet.
 

She might be a master at this game of seduction, but he wanted to make damn sure she realized he knew how to play too.

“In the mean time, think about this. Between now and then know I’ll be thinking about you every second. When you’re in the shower, I’ll hear the water and wish I were here. I’ll wonder what your wet skin would taste like and what your bare breasts would feel like in my hands. For the next few hours, I’ll be across the hall thinking about you and me and where this might be heading.”

Color filled her cheeks as he spoke and he knew he’d scored a point or two. He’d certainly turned up his own heat level.
 

Then she smiled and pushed him out the door. But before she closed it, she worked in her own parting shot.

“Hey Joe, while you’re listening, keep one thing in mind. I know exactly where this is headed. And trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”

Why had she said that last little bit? She was definitely taking the temptress thing too far. She’d practically promised Joe an entire night of hot sex. Like she knew anything about hot sex.

Ugh! Her only experience with sex so far had been lukewarm at best. Shoot, her best sex had been solo.
 

And now she was trying to pull off a fantasy of Irene proportions. What was she thinking?

Cordelia chewed on her bottom lip as she looked at the clock. In thirty minutes she’d walk next door and see him again.

Oh Lord.

She grabbed the forest green sarong style skirt from the bed and wrapped it around her waist. The white bikini top showed more of her curves than the red dress had, but no way could she wear the tiny suit bottoms without some sort of cover.

She ran a brush through her hair and closed her eyes as she relived the kiss, the feel of his lips first on her mouth and then on her shoulder.
 

The minty taste of him, the way he felt pressed against her body. The way he said he’d be imagining himself with her all day.

She’d purposefully taken a long shower for just that reason. And she hoped he’d heard every luxurious second of it.

She reached up and pressed her fingers to her lips in memory. That kiss was the closest she’d come to hot sex. No wonder Irene worked so hard at being bad. It was liberating—so much more fun than being the good girl.

The second hand on the clock moved at excruciatingly slow speed, and Cordelia thought about walking on over, giving them a few minutes alone.

But the daring new her chickened out at the last minute. She didn’t think she could handle the kind of heat Joe dispensed and then sit through a welcome party like it was nothing.

And somehow she wasn’t sure she could continue the sexy fantasy persona in front of a group. She’d spent a lifetime going out of her way to blend in a crowd, to make people happy, to stand out as little as possible. She certainly didn’t flirt outrageously.
 

But then, she didn’t wear white bikinis with forest green sarongs and glittery pool shoes either. And she never wore her hair down around her shoulders like it was right now.

Her action adventure thriller lay unopened on the bedside table next to her sister’s lipstick marked sign: Bad Girls Have All The Fun, and I’m Not About To Miss Out Now. An Irene style positive affirmation that had left Cordelia even more distracted, so the book still sat unread.

All she could think about was Joe, alone next door, listening to her, wanting her.

No, not her. He wanted this pretend Cordelia. The woman who lived by the same mantra as her sister.

 
Jeeze, she was a mess.

Fifteen minutes.

Fine. She was done waiting.

Joe heard the knock on his door and smiled. He’d heard everything she’d done all day. And his promise meant to frustrate her had done more to leave him all hot and bothered.

Too bad she’d waited so long to come over.

He ran a hand through his wet hair and shrugged on his shirt leaving it unbuttoned before opening the door to let her in.

When he saw her standing there in the white bikini top and green skirt, one long porcelain leg exposed by the slit up the side, he could only look on in speechless appreciation until she sent him a taunting smile. “You like, hm?” And then she turned around to give him a great view of the rest of the outfit.

What more could he do? He nodded. “Oh yeah. I like.”

She sashayed in, her hips swaying to their own internal beat. A beat he wanted to get to know up close and personal like he’d never wanted anything in his life.
 

“Good. I picked it out hoping to impress you.”

“It worked.” He swallowed hard and closed the door. “You’re early.”

“Are you complaining?” Her whiskey slow words teased him even more than the white bikini top that cupped her perfect curves. For a moment he let his imagination run rampant with the possibilities. Oh yeah.

“Oh I don’t think so. I’m just stating a fact.” He tried to clear his head. “Did you get settled in okay?”

She nodded and smiled up at him with that look of innocence so at odds with everything else about her. “I did. Irene left a message. She said she’d call tomorrow, and she told me the party would move to the pool. I hope she was right.”

Good old Irene. “Yeah, she’s right. We meet at least once a month, so planning your welcome fit right in.”

The flirty woman was back in force as she stepped close to him and ran a finger down his shoulder. He might as well have left the shirt off for all the good it did.
 

“That’s good. I’d hate to be any trouble.” Her slow southern drawl teased him.

From comfortable awareness to hot and hard in seconds. She should write a book. Joe just shook his head. “Oh, I think you’re definitely trouble. But the party was no problem.”

As she stepped away, Joe felt the cool air separate them before she spoke. “I guess everyone will be here soon?”

“In just a few minutes.” Against his better judgment and the ever present screaming internal He-Man gene he’d never been good at ignoring, Joe finished buttoning his shirt. “Would you like a drink? Beer, margarita, soda. You choose.”

She decided on a margarita and Joe took the opportunity to show her around the kitchen as he made her drink.

“Your sister might have mentioned some of the people who will be here tonight. She’s a regular when she’s not working.”

“She’s mentioned a few. I think she thought I might have something in common with your friend Keith since he teaches too.”

For now the flirt was gone, but Joe wasn’t about to let the comment simply pass. “You know, when I was in school they didn’t make teachers like you.”

She laughed. “Where I come from lawyers like you are nothing but myth.”

He handed her the margarita and watched as she took a sip, remembering their earlier kiss and the way it damn near overwhelmed him. “I’m no myth, Cordelia. I’m about as real as they come and right now it’s taking every bit of my will power to stay over here.”

He watched as she stopped mid-drink to send him a scorching glance from hooded eyes. “Who’s asking you to be super man, Joe?”

That did it. No more Mr. Nice Guy. She could take all that anticipation BS and toss it out the window.
 

He reached her in five steps. Deliberately, he took her glass and set it on the counter. “I don’t know what’s going on here, Cordelia. But I just can’t seem to help myself.” And then he quit talking and let his lips finish the rest of what needed saying.

As their lips met, he lifted her and set her on the sink counter. Stepping between her legs, he pushed her hair back and settled in for one hell of an all-bets-are-off-you-and-me-here-and-now kiss. The kind of kiss he knew she could never mistake for anything other than one hundred percent pure we’re getting naked later.
 

In that moment all thoughts of the party disappeared. All that mattered was them and now and everything else could just be damned.
 

And she responded just the same. Her tongue matched his thrust for thrust, and when he lowered his mouth to sample the skin below her chin he heard her moan, felt her press against him.

Enough waiting. He’d imagined this all day, and he was taking this moment for all he could. Reaching up he ever so slowly pushed the bikini strap off her right shoulder and down her arm.

He followed the path of material with his mouth, working his way little by little closer and closer to the cleavage that he’d fantasized over all day.

He could tell by her short intakes of breath, her almost soundless whispers of yes, yes, yes, that she’d developed a clear appreciation for his kind of anticipation.

With almost reverent movement, he lowered his fingers one at a time to the top edge of her swimsuit and stopped, drawing out the moment, taking in everything. Her closed eyes and parted lips, her inky hair brushing against his skin, the way the green sarong parted and showed long, muscular legs that practically glowed under the fluorescent kitchen lights. The way she looked ready for him, right this second, sitting on his stainless steel sink counter.
 

Against his fingers, her skin felt silky soft and he wanted to feel its every inch.

And he might’ve had the chance if the doorbell hadn’t rung at just that second.

Exhaling sharply, he leaned his head against her neck and closed his eyes as she sat up instantly with a breathlessly muttered “Oh good grief.”
 

At least she sounded as exasperated as he felt.
 

After stepping back, Joe settled both hands around her bare waist and lifted her back to the floor. “Don’t despair. The party will end eventually. And when it does, we will definitely take care of unfinished business.”

For all his talk, Joe knew he couldn’t just stand there looking at her or the door would go unanswered. Thinking about what waited for them later left him wanting to know the feel of that soft skin of hers on freshly washed sheets. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to lose himself inside her.

Her thoughts must’ve been running along the same lines because she took a deep cleansing breath and pushed him away.

For a second she stood there looking at him with a simple sort of wonder completely at odds with the love-blushed woman who stood there, practically naked, her swimsuit strap around her elbow.

But then she turned her lips in that sexy, challenging smile of hers and winked before speaking. “You keep making all these promises. If you don’t deliver, I’m going to be one very sorry lady.”

He could only shake his head in appreciation. She was absolutely incredible.

“Don’t you worry about the delivery. I can guaran-damn-tee you, tonight is going to leave us both more than a little shaken. But it’ll be worth every second.”

Cordelia watched him walk away and silently congratulated herself for not hyperventilating. For not erupting in flames right this instant.

That explosive, incinerating kiss was completely beyond her fantasies. She was in trouble here. The kind of trouble you saw in movies and read about in books.

The kiss your ass goodbye, Sugar, you made the wrong move kind of trouble only Tom Clancy, John Grisham or Suzanne Brockmann could write her out of.
 

But they weren’t here. Joe Sterling was. And he as so far out of her league he wasn’t even in the same galaxy. She was so going down for the count.

She could not do this. Could not. Could not. No way. Huh-uh.

That wasn’t a kiss. That was an out of body sexual experience like none other. And he’d barely even touched her.

Dear lord, what had she been thinking taunting him? Taunting him! Oh God. She was not an Irene kind of girl.
 

This crazy, impulsive, sassy mouthed person who winked for God’s sake, wasn’t her. And he’d see right through her after the party. She was so sunk.

With shaking hands she pulled up the strap on her swimsuit and tried to straighten her sarong before moving to fluff her hair.
 

Oh God. She was fluffing her hair. She, Cordelia Renee Lewis, the girl voted most likely to live in Taylor, Texas, population six thousand, forever, was fluffing her hair, trying to hide the fact that her nipples were pebbled rock hard under an entirely too small white bikini top.

Oh Lord.

Cordelia heard the door open, heard a loud call of, “Hey what’s up, man? What took so long?” and tried to remember all of Irene’s advice.

One week of fantasy. That’s all this was. Mind numbing, sensory blowing, all out free for all instant gratification in the city that sin built.

She could do this.

But first she had to remind her still rubbery legs how to work.

Joe stood behind the grill and tried to keep his mind on the fact that burgers and blackened didn’t belong in the same sentence. But every time he started to focus on the grill, Cordelia would walk by and, hot damn, he was filled with thoughts of a whole different kind of fire. The kind that had nothing to do with cooking and everything to do with three alarm, down and dirty, let’s spend all night at this sex.

And those thoughts were a hell of a lot more interesting than the burgers.
 

Unfortunately, right this minute, the crew attending the party wanted their food and they wanted it now.

He flipped one barely charcoaled patty over and watched as Cordelia punched an inflated beach ball over a head and into someone else’s hands. Nearby, a model perfect woman with sun-bronzed skin wore a suit that left little to the imagination. She looked like every other blond bombshell the guys brought around, and next to Cordelia, she was barely noticeable.