Playing With Fire (4 page)

"Just checking.” Mahina gave Lindsay a silly, sideways glance. “Is he any good?"

"Not bad.” Lindsay tipped her head from side to side.

"No sparks, though."

"Uh, uh."

"Not like with Matt."

"What!” Her stepsister's remark halted Lindsay dead in her tracks. “I have never kissed Matthew Callahan."

"Maybe not in real life.” Mahina grinned impishly. “But what about in your dreams?"

"You're so far off base, it's not funny."

"I don't think so,” she said airily. “I've watched you two together."

"When?"

"At the station. When I've stopped by to see you."

"You haven't seen squat,” Lindsay scoffed.

"Face it. You're hung up on him.” Mahina wagged a finger at Lindsay. “And he's hung up on you."

Memories of that morning and her America's Funniest Home Videos moment returned and with them, renewed feelings of hurt and frustration. She wasn't sure what bothered her more, Dennis walking in on her or Matt walking out. Four hours of fitful sleep that morning hadn't dulled the negative emotions, but rather honed them to sharp little pinpricks. Pinpricks that had her itching to do something—anything—to counteract them.

"You're wrong. Very wrong."

Mahina stepped closer to Lindsay, her expression and tone softening. “Am I?"

"Yes."

"Then why haven't you slept with Joey?"

"One doesn't have anything to do with the other,” Lindsay objected, but recognized a hollow argument when she heard one.

"Come on.” Mahina motioned with her hand. “I promise I won't talk about Matt anymore.” The two no sooner resumed their stroll, when she said, “Let's talk about Joey."

Lindsay groaned.

"Why do you go out with him?"

"I like him."

"Of course you do. He's a nice guy. But he's not the love of your life. If he were, you'd be sleeping with him by now."

"Sex isn't required for a satisfying relationship."

Mahina did a theatrical double take. “Says who?"

Grudgingly, Lindsay had to agree there was some truth to the point her stepsister was making in her typical blunt fashion. Dating came hard for Lindsay and not because of her shyness. Male firefighters attracted admirers by the dozens. The same couldn't be said for their female counterparts. Lindsay didn't exactly understand why, but she intimidated a lot of men. All that leaping through walls of flames and jumping from third story windows, she supposed. Pretty tough on the old male ego.

Some of Lindsay's friends met eligible men at their workplace. Not so with her. While dating a coworker wasn't against regulations, it was probably unwise. Blurring the line between personal and professional had damaged more than one firefighter's career.

And even if she found someone special, maintaining the relationship over the course of time presented a whole new set of problems. There was the stress factor associated with the job, the lousy hours, the risk to life and limb. Not many partners were willing or capable of tolerating the demands put upon them.

Joey, however, understood, having once wanted to be a firefighter himself. He remained on the outskirts by working as a superintendent for a fire sprinkler company and having a firefighter for a roommate. He was safe, comfortable. They shared common interests, if not an undying passion for each other.

"Sex may not be necessary, but it sure as heck is natural.” Mahina pointed to a miniature grandfather clock in a storefront window, and they paused to consider its gift potential.

"Can we please drop the subject?"

"We could, but what fun would that be?” Mahina's impish grin returned. “Look, do you want to sleep with Joey or not?"

I want to sleep with Matt
, Lindsay thought, but didn't say. If nothing else, that morning's disaster demonstrated she should forget about him once and for all. “Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I want Joey to want to sleep with
me
.” Lindsay tripped over the words. It was difficult admitting her insecurities, even to her stepsister. She constantly felt the need to prove herself. Prove to her feminist mother that she was the equal of any man. Prove to a long-absent father that his rejection didn't matter. And prove to her male coworkers that she was just as competent as them. What she hadn't done was prove to herself that she could attract a man. “Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, it does. Women like feeling sexy and desirable. It's a major turn-on seeing that out of control lust in his eyes, feeling it in his touch. Knowing he's so hot for you he's ready to explode. That's pretty serious stuff."

Lindsay had thought Matt was hot for her, but she'd been terribly wrong. Well, what's done was done. Now all she had to do was purge him from her system. Be proactive instead of reactive. Take charge. Become ... a siren.

"Mahina. Say a girl were interested in taking her relationship with her boyfriend to the next level. How might she go about it?"

Her stepsister's face lit up. “Are you thinking of seducing Joey?"

"Let's just say I'm considering the possibility.” Three months was long enough, Lindsay mused. Either she and Joey were going somewhere in their relationship, or they weren't. Sink or swim. Make it or break it.

"That's an excellent idea!"

"Matt left for Tucson this afternoon.” Lindsay's mental wheels started turning. “He won't be home until late tomorrow."

"So you and Joey will have the house all to yourselves. Right on!” Mahina threw an arm around Lindsay. “Let's go. I know just the place."

Two minutes later, they stood in front of a small display window in a side wing of the mall. The marquee over the adjacent doorway read
'Naughty But Nice'
.

"This is a sex shop,” Lindsay blurted out. She'd heard of
Naughty But Nice
but had never considered shopping there.

"No it isn't. They don't allow sex shops at the mall."

"What would you call it, then?"

"A place for people who, like you, want to enhance their physical relationships."

"Same thing."

"
Naughty But Nice
is classy and tasteful. Not some dump down on Van Buren Avenue."

Stylized mannequins posed in the window, hairless and faceless. They were garbed in sleepwear, lingerie, and casual clothing that, while undeniably sexy, couldn't be described as tacky. The center mannequin wore a yellow string bikini just this side of indecent. It made Lindsay's utilitarian one-piece look like a flour sack. On the back wall hung posters of various couples kissing and embracing. Rainbow confetti dotted the floor and covered the mannequins’ clothing. All in all, the display projected an air of romance and playfulness, not one of depravity.

"I've heard they sell,” Lindsay groped for the right word, “marital aids."

"You mean vibrators?” Mahina laughed. “Don't I wish. But they do have lotions, candles, books, movies.” She fluttered her eyes. “Novelties."

"How do you know?"

"I've been here before,” she answered smugly. “Last year a bunch of us got together and hosted a theme bridal shower for one of the girls at the office."

Lindsay hated to ask, but couldn't help herself. “What kind of theme?"

"Games."

"Not the Scrabble variety, I take it."

"Actually, yes. The board game I gave her was called Dirty Talking. Same idea as Scrabble. You spell out words with lettered cubes, but the trick is to—"

"No need for a detailed description. I get the picture."

Mahina marched into the store. Lindsay followed at a crawl. They wound a path through circular racks of clothing which appeared harmless enough.

"Hey,” Mahina said over her shoulder. “Let's buy Mom and Dad's anniversary gift here."

"Uh, uh.” Lindsay shook her head violently.

"Why? You think that just because they're in their fifties, they don't have sex anymore?"

Lindsay placed a finger to her lips and shot her stepsister a murderous look. “Shh. Someone will hear you."

They rounded a freestanding fabric wall to which were tacked a variety of outfits, including a micro miniskirt and matching spider web halter top, a unitard refugee from Cat Woman's closet, and peek-a-boo lounging pajamas.

On the other side of the wall, they came face to face with a condom display.

"Whoops.” Lindsay's knees locked.

Mahina propelled pushed her forward. “You'll need some of these."

"Are you sure?"

"You're the one seducing him, remember? You want to be prepared."

"Good afternoon.” A conservatively dressed saleswoman of indeterminable age greeted them warmly. “May I help you?"

Lindsay didn't answer because the speech center in her brain had short-circuited. The saleswoman looked exactly like Mrs. Albertson, her home economics teacher from seventh grade. But that was impossible. Or was it? Lindsay turned her head and nonchalantly chewed on a thumbnail.

When a jab in the ribs failed to rouse her, Mahina spoke on Lindsay's behalf. “My stepsister here would like to buy some condoms."

Lindsay's insides shriveled, and she tried to slink off. Mahina snagged her by the shirt collar before she got two feet away.

"Certainly. We have several different products on sale this week.” She lifted various boxes, explaining the types, styles, and features without so much as batting an eyelash.

"Do you still carry flavored condoms?” Mahina asked.

"One of our best sellers.” The sales woman pointed to the top rack.

Lindsay found her voice, though it came out a full octave higher. “Still? You've bought them before?"

"And if I have?” Mahina selected a box with a large strawberry on the front.

"Those are on special. A second box is half off."

Mahina took another one.

"Mahina!” Lindsay's mouth dangled open in disbelief.

"What?"

"For beginners, we usually recommend these.” The sales woman presented Lindsay with a blue and orange box. “Ultra-thin with extra ribbing. They come with a money back guarantee."

A trio of college-aged boys swaggered toward the condom display.

"Fine. I'll take them.” Lindsay would buy a case of condoms if needed. Whatever was necessary to avoid having an audience.

"Will there be anything else for you today?"

"No. But thanks."

"Yes,” Mahina cut in, glaring at Lindsay. “She'd also like to see some lingerie."

Lindsay went along only because the trio of boys were almost upon them.

"Do you have something particular in mind?” the saleswoman asked, leading the way to another part of the store.

"Something appropriate for a seduction,” Mahina replied.

Lindsay coughed, gagging on her own spit.

The saleswoman paused and gave Lindsay the once over. “With your height and build, I'd suggest a bustier. It will give you,” she made cups out of her hands and held them in front of her bosom, “more up here. And something to show off your legs.” She pinched her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps a v-string panty. Very flattering on tall, thin girls like you."

It took five minutes to select the outfit, then another five minutes of coaxing and cajoling on Mahina's part before Lindsay consented to try it on. Inside the changing room, she dallied, undressing slowly while avoiding the mirror. The v-string bottom took some getting used to. The back panel nestled uncomfortably between her buttocks. Slipping the short cropped bustier over her head, Lindsay tugged, pulled, and adjusted until it settled into place.

"Well, girl, let's get this over with.” Drawing a deep breath, she pivoted slowly and confronted her reflection in the full length mirror. “Oh, my God!"

Shock rippled through her. She pressed her palms to her belly, stared down, then up again at the mirror. “Mahina. Come quick. Hurry!"

Her stepsister yanked open the dressing room door, her expression knotted with worry. “What's the matter?"

Lindsay's dim smile blossomed into a radiant one. “Look at me.” She then did something almost unheard of for her. She giggled girlishly. “I have breasts. I really, truly, have breasts.” With a sense of awe, she touched the soft, billowy mounds spilling from the top of the bustier.

Mahina gave a low whistle. “That saleslady sure knows her stuff. Feel better?"

"Are you kidding? I feel great.” Lindsay struck a sexy pose. “I am woman, hear me roar."

"I take this to mean you're buying the outfit."

"Two, if they have them.” On impulse, she added, “And the yellow bathing suit in the window."

"I'll check if there's one in your size.” Mahina buzzed away like a wood sprite.

Lindsay studied her reflection again in the mirror, reaching her hand out until her fingers came in contact with the cool glass. A twinge of sorrow, unbidden and unwanted, crept in, dampening her soaring spirit.

"This could have been yours, Matthew Callahan,” she whispered. “If only you hadn't left."

Chapter 3

Paybacks were hell
.

Matt watched the steady
plop, plop
of water falling from a crack in the ceiling onto the middle of his bed. He'd been wanting to crawl into bed all day but for the wrong reasons. This, he concluded, was his punishment.

The visit with his father had gone badly. He'd expected nothing less. While the Callahans weren't exactly a case study in dysfunctional family dynamics, they had their moments. In between shouting matches and long periods of stubborn silence, Matt had envisioned burrowing beneath cool sheets, his head resting on a cushiony pillow.

Understandable, considering he'd had less than three hours sleep in the last day and a half. Except these particular bed yearnings included Lindsay and her mile-long legs. She was naked, of course, and without the awkward inconvenience of dating his roommate.

A puddle on his bed the size of Bartlett Lake was a small price to pay for what happened at the fire station that morning. Frankly, he deserved worse.

"Sorry.” Joey stood behind Matt, craning his neck to see around. “Guess I missed this one."

"Don't sweat it. You did fine."

Joey had placed buckets, pots, mixing bowls, and whatever else he could lay his hands on under the multitude of dripping leaks throughout the house.