Long Slow Second Look (2 page)

She made me sound vain, arrogant, and personally interested in her plain friend. "I have no sexual interest in her."

She gave me another long stare before she smiled. "Don't worry. I'll go pry her away from him and send her back to your waiting arms, lover."

I frowned. "Sometimes I wonder what Paul sees in you," I said of her husband who had been my college roommate and was currently away on military maneuvers.

"Probably the same thing you’re seeing in the deceptively plain Amber."

Deceptively plain? That about summed her up. Plain and not worth a second look until she smiled and lured some unsuspecting man into a web he’d probably have a hell of a time extricating himself from if he weren’t very careful. Therefore, I’d need to exercise unusual caution with her. Honestly, I was impressed that the good doctor had somehow managed to remain untangled. Unless, of course, she annoyed on longer acquaintance.

"Don’t imagine things, Grace."

"I'll go get her," she said as if I’d proclaimed an interest I was still assuring myself I didn't feel.

Grace crossed the room. She spoke to them briefly before extending her hand to him. He smiled at Amber, took Grace into his arms, and they moved onto the dance floor.

Amber turned to look at me with what looked like a resigned smile on her face.

If she thought the grass was greener with him, she could stay there and water it. I shook my head to let her know I was no longer interested in spending any time with her. It would be the proverbial cold day in hell before I had to beg for a woman’s attention.

I left through the French doors, intent on walking around the house to the side street where I’d parked my car.

"John!"

I glanced over my shoulder without stopping. Amber hurried towards the French doors. She’d had her chance and blown it. I kept walking.

She called out to me again. "John! Wait. Please. If you force me to run in these heels I’m going to trip and then you’re going to have a devil of a time picking me up."

Even though I was pissed, I stopped and turned to watch her running to catch up with me.

She stopped in front of me just beyond the patio. "You’re angry."

I was but didn’t feel like admitting it. "I don’t have the time or the inclination to play games with you."

She tilted her head and smiled at me. "With the right person, games can be fun, Johnny."

Why the hell did I like the way she called me Johnny? "For boys," I countered.

"I sometimes like them too. They can add spice to a relationship."

"You and I don't have a relationship."

"I kind of thought we could."

"Why the hell would you think that?"

She shrugged. "I can see you're annoyed, but it was your idea that I go talk to him," she reminded me.

How the hell was I supposed to know she’d dump me for him without a moment’s hesitation? "How did that work out for you?"

"I’m not sure yet. Grace interrupted just as things were getting interesting." She frowned. "Did you send her?"

"No, I did not!"

She held up her hands, palms outward. "Fine. Just asking. No need to blow a gasket."

"Haven’t you ever heard of loving the one you’re with?" I paused and suppressed a frown. Where the hell had that sorry ass whine come from?

She nodded. "I've heard of it, but falling for you wouldn’t be any more beneficial than falling for him. Would it?"

I inhaled slowly and stared at her. She was so damned average looking she was just a breath away from being plain. Why the hell was I wasting my time trying to convince her that she should spend her time with me instead of him?

When I remained silent, she slipped her arm through mine and turned that sweet, sexy smile of hers on me. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"My mother always says it's easier to get a man if you already have one or if he thinks you already have one."

So she didn’t have a man in her life. Surprising but good to know.

"I don't suppose you'd like to pretend to be my boyfriend."

My exasperation at the question surprised me. Did I look like a damned boy? "Boyfriend?" I shook my head. "No."

"Darn. Oh well there was no harm in asking." She removed her arm from mine. "I hope we’ll see each other again."

I should have known I was in trouble when I realized that even as she pissed me off, I wanted to spend time with her and get to know her. Annoyed at my unexpected reaction to her, I didn’t respond even though I shared that hope.

She sighed. "I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to know each other, John."

When I remained silent, she walked back towards the house.

She’d nearly reached the French doors before I admitted to myself that there was no way in hell I was going to let her walk away from me again without a fight. "Amber?"

She quickly retraced her steps. "Yes, John?"

"I won’t pretend to be your boyfriend."

She blinked. "You didn’t call me back to restate that fact."

Intelligent and intriguing. "No."

"Good. Let’s deal with the but so we can get this party started."

I shrugged. "But I have no objection to pretending to be your man."

"My man. Amber's man John. It has a nice ring to it. Don’t you think, Johnny?"

I couldn’t ever remember meeting a woman with such ordinary looks who was so confident. I liked her self-assurance and damn if I didn't like everything about her. I smiled but remained silent.

She slipped her arm through mine again. "I’d love having you as my man, Johnny but what will you get out of it?"

"I’m looking for a female friend without any physical or sexual benefits attached."

"Really?"

I nodded. "Really."

She gave me a long look. "You did say you were straight."

"I’m very straight."

"Then why are you only interested in a platonic relationship? Have you been hurt?"

I was fortunate in that I had never been turned down by a woman I really wanted so had never had my heart broken. "No."

"Then why are you looking for friendship from a woman instead of an intimate relationship?" She paused. "You…Can you…Are you able to…"

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she wanted to ask. "I have a normal sexual appetite which I'm fully capable of acting on without any artificial help," I assured her. "And I'm skillful enough to ensure it's equally as enjoyable for my partner."

"Oh. Good."

I arched a brow.

She looked at me and then laughed. "It would be a shame for you to be either gay, asexual, or unable to…perform."

"As I said, I'm straight and have a normal sex drive. I can and do get sex from almost any woman I want it from," I said.

She gave me a long look before she smiled. "I'll just bet you can. You almost make me wish I was the lucky woman on the receiving end of all that skill."

Damn she came on strong.

"You have no problems having your sexual needs met, but you want more?"

I nodded. "Yes. There are more than enough women willing to share my bed. But I’m looking for a woman I can develop a purely platonic friendship with. Grace is my only female friend and she's married, as you know."

"Won't she do since you're looking for a purely platonic relationship?"

"I'm fond of her, but she has a tendency to get on my last damn nerve. I was hoping you're available for the position."

"Should I be insulted that you’re only interested in friendship with me?"

She’d managed to grab and maintain my interest from the moment we met. I shook my head. "No. Actually, I’m paying you a compliment. I’d value your friendship more than I would a physical relationship with you."
In your dreams, Reddorn.
"If you’re prepared to be my friend, I’m prepared to pretend to be your man."

We agreed to feign dating. I was happy with the deal thinking it was a win-win situation with both of us getting what we wanted and needed from each other.

Of course life just wasn’t that easy. I should have known my carefully thought out plan for a non-sexual relationship with her was doomed to failure the moment I admitted I wanted her complete attention.

Chapter Two

Amber Hunt-Darkwater

I don’t know what confused me more: meeting the tall, sexy John Reddorn or his unexpected reaction to my interest in Deandre Marton. Deandre joined the staff of the large private clinic I managed just outside the Philadelphia city limits a year earlier. I’d fallen into instant lust with him and had spent most of the previous year cultivating an office only friendship that I hoped would eventually lead to a serious non-office relationship.

Despite my best efforts, Deandre and I had never gotten beyond the occasional light flirting he engaged in with nearly every woman who wasn’t a patient. My mom had taught me that extra-average looking women (code word for plain but neither of my parents had ever used that word with me or my sisters) often had to go the extended extra mile to land the men of their choice.

Add an extra curvy body into the mix and women with lesser fortitude than the Hunt-Darkwater sisters would have resigned themselves to scraping the bottom of the barrel for a lover. Or thinking they had to spend their lives seeking pleasure from a collection of battery-operated boyfriends.

Since I preferred the real McCoy, I’d learned to adapt a confident, sexy air and carried myself as if I expected the average male to find me just as attractive as he would a slender, pretty woman.

Did it always work? No or I wouldn’t have spent the last year pursuing Deandre with little to show for it. But surprisingly it worked more often than not. I’d never had to resort to a vibrator for sexual gratification.

Granted, thirteen months after I’d broken up with my last lover, I felt more than a little horny. And in walks John Reddorn. The unmistakable hint of jealousy I thought I detected in him intrigued me. Then he threw me for a loop by insisting he had no more than a platonic interest in me. Of course that statement flew in the face of his obvious annoyance at my failure to give him my undivided attention.

When he agreed to pretend to be my man but not my boyfriend my confusion intensified. Should I take his advice and love the one I was with-namely him? Or should I continue my pursuit of Deandre that lately had shown signs of paying dividends in the form of his clear preference for my company at lunch and in the increase of compliments he paid me at work.

Since I was in heavy lust but not in love with Deandre I decided to test the level of John's so–called platonic interest. I smiled up at him. "Can I interest you in a slow dance in the moonlight, pretend man of mine?"

He nodded and slipped his arms around me.

Oh. Nice. I took encouragement from the fact that his embrace felt warm and deliciously intimate for a man who had no sexual interest in me. Testing the waters further, I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder.

"This is nice," I said.

"Yes."

Smiling, I slipped my arms under his jacket and around his waist. "Nice cologne, Johnny mine." And nice body to go with it.

He didn’t respond.

Oh well. At least he hadn’t pulled away. That encouraged me to see how far I could go before he did. As we danced in silence through several songs, I stroked my hands up and down his back.

Although he made no effort to caress me in return, he didn’t object to my touch–not even when I released my embrace on his waist in favor of placing my hands on his shoulders. I brushed my lips against his neck several times before I nibbled his ear.

He inhaled and quickly stepped away from me.

"Tired?" I asked, keeping my voice level as I met his gaze.

His lids immediately swept down to conceal his expression.

Darn. My oldest step-brother Darkwater was fond of saying the eyes held all a woman needed to know about how a man felt. So I hated when one shielded his gaze from me.

"You do know the meaning of the word platonic; don’t you, Amber?"

I slipped my arm through his again. "Of course I do. That’s the type of relationship Deandre and I have shared for the last year. More's the pity."

"It's the type of relationship I'm offering you as well."

I was not in the market for another single sexy male offering me friendship with no prospects of a serious relationship or even sexual benefits on the side. "What’s your point?"

"Kissing my neck and nibbling my ear isn’t very conducive to a platonic relationship, Amber."

I shrugged. "Maybe not but it was very nice or don’t you agree?"

"Whether or not I agree is beside the point."

As far as I was concerned that meant he agreed but wasn’t willing to admit it. "Do I need to remind you that you agreed to pretend to be my man? I don’t know about you, Johnny mine, but when I’m slow dancing with my man, I like to be intimate. I like being held close and I like kissing and touching him."

He looked at me before glancing toward the French doors.

By some stroke of fate, Deandre stood there looking out at us.

"Game time," I whispered improvising. I waved at Deandre and then deliberately linked my arms around John’s neck and brushed my mouth against his firm, warm lips. Oh. Damn. Nice. "He's looking. Kiss me."

When he made no move to pull away or comply, I took matters into my own hands. I dragged my tongue along his mouth before leaning closer for a taste of his lips and a real kiss with tongue action.

After a brief hesitation, he returned my kiss with enough force to coerce my lips apart. Seconds later, he pressed his tongue against mine. A jolt of desire sizzled through me. Surrendering to it, I leaned closer to him and sucked on his tongue with such a greedy delight that we both trembled with need.

I wanted more intimacy. Removing my right hand from his neck, I reached for one of his hands resting at my waist. Still enjoying playing tongue tag with him, I guided his big hand down to my ass.

In response, he deepened his kiss.

When I was sure he wouldn’t remove his hand from my ass, I slipped my arm around his neck again to touch the hair at the nape of his neck.