New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess (5 page)

Suddenly he reached out and cupped her face. The touch startled her, warmed her. Aroused her. His thumb slid over her lower lip, arousing her all the more. “Powdered sugar,” he whispered. “You still have a speck…right here.”

Long after it must have been gone, his thumb played over the most sensitive part of her mouth. Back and forth until she parted her lips and his eyes darkened even more. “You're touching me. Thought that was a no-no.”

“It was. Is.” But he still did it.

Before she could stop herself, her tongue darted
out and touched his finger, drawing it into her mouth.

A half growl, half moan came from deep within his throat. Her knees threatened to give at the erotically shattering sound.

“Tonight, then.” His voice was deep and sexy.

“Yes.” And as he walked away, she had the feeling her next adventure had already begun.

W
ORK WAS
B
ECCA'S SALVATION
that day, it kept her mind busy. She sat talking with Dennis, going over some of their latest samples, correlating some of their findings.

Or at least
she
was correlating, Dennis was teasing.

He slid a finger up her arm, bared by another one of her new shirt dresses. “Come on, one more night,” he coaxed. “Give me just one more night and I swear, I'll ruin you for all other men.”

Because she knew he was just kidding, she shot him a sultry smile. “But then I'll ruin you for all other women, too, and then what would you do?”

He laughed and they bent over their work once again. “I had a great time with you the other night,” he said after a moment. “I just wanted you to know that.”

His pretty blue eyes were genuine, and for once he wasn't crowding into her space, flirting. “I had fun, too,” she said.

“Before or after you danced with Kent?”

She opened her mouth, but had to close it again.

“It was hard to miss those sparks flying between the two of you. Real hard.”

She busied her hands. Dennis stilled them by setting his bigger one over hers. “You're looking pretty amazing, Bec. If good old Kent keeps getting hives over the thought of a relationship, let me know. I betcha I could get it right.”

He probably could. And maybe a few days ago she might have let him try. But suddenly her heart wasn't in any sort of casual relationship adventure. No, she wanted more.

She wanted it all.

 

T
HIS IS STUPID
.
Kent told himself over and over again as he showered, dressed and drove to pick up Becca. A date. With a woman he not only worked with, but one who was his friend. It was trouble with a capital
T,
no matter how he looked at it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But then her door opened and Becca was standing there, smiling at him, such an absolute vision she took his breath. She wore a long floral dress, with a row of tiny, delicate buttons down the front that begged a man to go after them one at a time. The lace bodice scooped low enough to show off
rich, warm looking curves and the skirt flared gently over her slim hips.

He thought he might never get used to seeing her,
really
seeing her. But it wasn't the outfit that stunned him, or even her glorious body.

It was her eyes, and the way they sparkled with excitement, fear, nerves…everything he was feeling. Warning signals went off in his head, blaring, honking, tooting.
Beware. Attachment alert!

You're falling, your parachute has failed and there's no back-up equipment.

Vacate the premises immediately.

No. No, he was fine. All he had to do was remind them both, right this second, that this was just fun. No future. No commitment. Just fun.

Yeah, that's all he had to do. He took the last step, until he stood in the doorway with her, gripping the jamb with either hand, a mere inch separating their bodies.

Say it.

Oh, man. Her eyes were huge and full of mysteries, and he had this strange, burning desire to know each of them.

And just when he needed it the most, the panicking little voice inside his head went silent.

When her breath caught at their closeness, his
blood surged with heat, but it was the tenderness and affection that floored him.

It felt right to run his hands up her arms, over her shoulders, to her throat, until he cupped that now serious face in his palms.

And it felt even more right to smile down at her and gently, lightly, glide his mouth over hers. Again.

Then again.

When he pulled back, her eyelids fluttered open and she drew a deep, unsteady breath. “What was that for?” she whispered.

He hadn't an earthly clue. He couldn't even remember the thought process he'd used to go from reminding her they were just friends to kissing her. His mind was mush, complete mush.

There should be some sort of back-up process for when this happened. After all, he couldn't be the only man on earth to lose all the blood in his brain over one little embrace. “It was our goodnight kiss,” he improvised.

“We haven't gone out yet.”

“Oh yeah.” He cleared his throat. “We'd better hurry then.”

“Well,” was all she said. She gripped her hands together and smiled shyly, but there was a good amount of mischief in that smile as well. “So you
were only planning on giving me
one
goodnight kiss?”

His pulse leaped. “I didn't want to seem too forward.”

“Not at all,' she whispered, her lips parting as he slid his fingers in her hair to better angle her head for another kiss. “And if you wanted to give me another one, too…you know, while you're at it, I wouldn't mind.”

They were laughing when their mouths connected again, and Kent had time to think that he'd never felt like laughing and kissing at the same time before, that it was the most lovely, joyful feeling in the world, but then he couldn't think at all because the touch of her, the taste of her, closed off his brain to everything but sensation.

Immediately their sizzling connection spiraled out of control. There were other sensations; the sounds of the street behind him, the wind rippling the pines, the soft music playing from inside her condo, but it all faded away. Everything was gone except for this woman in his arms.

She felt it too, he could hear it in her sigh of shock, surprise, need. It was the last that made him groan and pull her closer, deepening the kiss because he had to have more, just a little more.

She gave it. Wrapping her arms around his neck,
she pressed tight and opened to him. More sensations burst in his head, white-hot passion and an unquenchable desire.

He turned and pressed her against the door, holding her body captive, only it wasn't necessary, she was willing and able and making small, needy little murmurs in her throat as she tried to get even closer to him.

This had never happened,
came his vague thought.
Never.
In another two seconds, they were going to be clawing at their clothes, dropping each other to the floor to ravish, and…

“Holy smoke.”

At the sound of Summer's voice, Becca jerked and moved back, but it took Kent longer to blink himself into awareness and remove his arms from around her.

She stood behind them, in Becca's condo, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “Wow. Just wow.” She was tall, willowy and stunning. Her long blond hair was perfectly groomed, not a one out of place. She wore a snug, short black dress, thigh-high boots and looked so glossy and finished, Kent could easily imagine her walking down any model runway in the world.

By contrast, he was standing there with his shirt untucked and half-unbuttoned—when had that
happened? He supposed he should consider himself lucky his pants were fastened over an uncomfortably hard erection.

Her very red lips smiled as if she could read his mind.

“I thought you were gone already,” Becca said shakily, running a hand through her hair. Her lips were wet and swollen. Her lipstick was long gone, he'd chewed it off and could still taste the strawberry flavor.

“Nope,” Summer said, grinning.

Becca let out a long breath and looked down at herself as if checking to make sure she was all together. “We were just…”

“Yes, I can see that.” Summer laughed when Becca blushed. “I was getting hot just watching the two of you go at it.” She eyed them both. “You ought to think about taking it inside next time. Like to a bedroom.”

“My sister thinks she's amusing,” Becca said, throwing Summer a warning look.

Summer ignored it and turned to Kent. “What do you think of Becca's new look?”

Becca shifted uncomfortably. “Summer—”

“I think she looks nice.”

“Nice.”
Summer nodded. “Well, there's a word, huh? Quite the description. Every little thing
about her is completely different. Her hair, her makeup, her clothes, everything.”

“Not
everything
is different,” he said, turning to look into Becca's carefully made up face, sans lipstick. She seemed a bit wan suddenly. Stressed. “You still have the same insides, don't you?” he asked.

She only stared at him.

“You know, guts and blood and stuff,” he clarified.

Unexpectedly, she laughed. “Yes, I do.”

“And your heart,” he added, though he didn't know why, he just wanted her to keep smiling at him like that, like he was the best thing since sliced bread. “Your heart is the same.”

Summer moved next to Becca. Her eyes were bright, filled with something odd.
Approval?
He had no idea why, and other than not wanting Becca to be uncomfortable, he didn't care what her sister thought of him.

But she hugged Becca. With a soft sigh, she hugged him too. “You're a very sweet man.” She drew back and smiled at him. “Take good care of her,” she whispered.

Then she was gone.

Uh-oh,
Kent thought, the warning signals finally coming back. There was that sweet thing again.

He wasn't sweet. He didn't have a damn sweet bone in his body and he liked it that way.

And
take good care of her?
What did that mean?

How had this happened to him? One minute he'd been vaguely concerned about Becca getting hurt in her adventures and the next he was kissing her as if his life depended on it.

In the silence, Becca clasped her hands, still looking embarrassed. “I'm sorry about all that. She likes to put people on the spot and see how honest they are. It's a thing with her. She didn't mean anything by it.”

Okay, that was good. This was still light and easy. Temporary.

And he was the tooth fairy.

Damn. “Let's go rock climbing,” he said gruffly.

She sent him a curious glance. “I can go by myself if you've changed your mind.”

He had visions of her hanging from the rope thirty feet in the air. A hundred things could go wrong. No, actually, with Becca a
thousand
things could go wrong. “I'm going.”

“Because there's probably people there who could show me what to do—”

“Becca, I'm going.”

Her smile widened. “Okay, if you insist.” She picked up the gym bag that sat next to the door and led him out.

 

H
E'D REMEMBER LATER
that he'd insisted. The good news was that Becca loved rock climbing.

The bad news was that he loved watching Becca.

She climbed the thirty-foot wall with ease, laughing and smiling and so thoroughly enjoying herself that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

She climbed the forty-foot wall, too, and then looked up at the fifty-foot wall. “Race you,” she called out breathlessly.

He'd been climbing for years. Years. So the only excuse he could possibly offer for losing was that the view from beneath her, and the snug pink shorts she'd changed into, were so incredible, it kept him one pace behind her.

At the top she smiled at him, flushed with success and thrill and excitement, and never in his life had he wanted to kiss someone so much.

Luckily they were hanging from ropes, so kissing would have been not only impossible, but incredibly stupid.

Coming down, Becca bounced away from the wall, still laughing and smiling, and still looking
so damn wonderful and appealing it should be illegal.

“Watch what you're doing,” he told her. “You're going to hurt yourself.”

“I'm watching.” She grinned with pleasure from ear to ear as she slowly and correctly lowered herself to the ground. “See? Perfect.”

Yep, just about, he decided, still watching her. Which explained how he slipped and fell the last eight feet to the ground with agonizing pain twisting up from his ankle.

 

“H
OW'S YOUR ANKLE
?”

Kent shrugged, and the movement shifted the cold pack. They were in the emergency room, waiting for his X-rays to come back from the lab.

Becca leaned across the hospital bed to adjust the cold pack, but Kent's hand caught hers. “It's fine,” he said through his teeth.

“Uh-huh.” Becca looked at him with exasperation. “Why do guys do that, hide everything? You're pale and shaking and looking like you might throw up. Why can't you say it hurts like crazy? What would it kill you to admit a true feeling?”

His brow lifted. “I can admit my feelings.”

“Oh, really.” She crossed her arms. “Then tell
me what this is all about, could you? Because I don't have a clue.”

Wariness filled his pained expression. “A clue about what?”

“About us.”

“Us?”

“I admit, at first I didn't think about there even being an ‘us',” she said. “I just wanted something new and exciting, which I planned on doing by myself. But then you kept interfering. And then there's that attraction problem,” she added lightly.

“Attraction?”

She narrowed her gaze. “Are you sounding like a parrot on purpose?”

He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“So…are you going to come clean?”

“Uh, yeah…”

The doctor came in, interrupting the moment. “No break,” he said cheerfully. “You'll need to stay off it, though, while it recovers.”

Becca listened politely to his instructions, but the minute he was gone, she gave Kent a pointed stare. “Where were we? Oh yeah, you were going to tell me what's really going on. And don't even think about using the worry excuse. I'm not the one who got hurt here.”

Kent sighed. “Fine. I'll tell you the truth.”

“Good.”

But then a nurse came in with forms. While Becca waited, nervousness filled her.
The truth.
Suddenly it hit her—she couldn't handle the truth! She didn't want him to say something he didn't mean, or was it just that she didn't want to confront the fact it was entirely likely he was attracted to an illusion?