Savour the Moment: Now the Big Day Has Finally Arrived, It's Time To... (27 page)

“Now that I have the outfit, do you think I can do that?”

“I’ll spot you if you want to try.”

“No, better not. I’ll hurt myself and I’m supposed to call Carter for a swim when I finish my self-imposed torture. Have you seen him swim?”

“Mmm.” Parker did an upside down split, then righted herself. “I might have caught a glimpse while stepping out on the terrace. Not that I was ogling, of course.”

“He’s worth an ogle. He’s pretty cute in his trunks. But the thing is, he gets in the water and suddenly he’s Mister Grace instead of Professor Klutz.” After setting the machine, she started with biceps curls. “Why is that?”

“Maybe because there’s nothing solid to run into or trip over in the water.”

“Hmm, that could be it. Anyway, when I finish abusing myself here, Carter and I are taking a morning swim. Swimming’s a civilized exercise. It’s probably the only one. Speaking of pretty cute,” she added, lowering her voice as she jerked her chin at the elliptical machines. “They are.”

Parker nodded as she hooked the towel around her neck, then gulped down water. “I was thinking the same thing earlier.” She checked her watch. “You know, I’ve got just enough time to sneak in a quick swim myself before I start the day. Ten o’clock consult, full staff.”

“I’ve got it.”

“See you then. Oh, Mac?Your shoulders look awesome.”

“Seriously?” Mac’s face brightened with pleasure and hope. “You’re not just saying that because you love me and I’m suffering?”

“Awesome,” Parker repeated, then walked out to get her swimsuit.

“Awesome,” Mac muttered and switched to her triceps.

“Mile four.” Del grabbed his water and drank deep. “Oh, look, you’re behind.”

“I’m saving myself for the kick.” Laurel swiped sweat from her face. No way she’d catch him, she thought, but she could make him work for it.

She glanced over. He’d sweated through the T-shirt in a dark vee that had lust curling in her belly. She used it to push herself a little harder.

His hair had darkened at the temples, and the damp brought out those sexy curls. His arms gleamed; muscles bunched.

He’d taste salty, she thought. He’d be slippery under her hands. That energy, that strength and endurance would be over her, under her, all around her. In her.

Her breath began to quicken from more than the exertion, and she hit mile four.

He looked at her, and she saw in his eyes what was quivering inside her. That drumming, primal need. Her pulse pounded along with the music, her skin hummed along with the machines. Beat slapped into quick beat.

She smiled slowly, spoke breathlessly. “I’m coming up on you.”

“You don’t have enough left to take me.”

“I’ve got plenty left.”

“You’re winded.”

“You, too. I can finish strong. Can you?”

“Watch me.”

Across the room, Mac rolled her eyes, and deciding there were some things even the closest of friends shouldn’t be part of, slipped out of the room.

Neither Laurel nor Del noticed, or gave her a single thought.

He slowed, just a little, and she understood the competition was over, and the sexual dance—hot and primitive—had begun.

They’d finish together.

“Let’s see your kick,” he demanded.

“You want it?”

“Yeah, I want it.”

“Then come get it.” She bore down, hard, driving herself until she was both thrilled and astonished to feel that dark pleasure build inside her. When he once more matched his pace to hers, she heard herself moan.

Closing her eyes she let it come, let it ride through her, all the hot and grinding need, all the aching anticipation.

They hit the finish together.

Breath fast and ragged, she opened her eyes to look at him. Her throat burned with a thirst water wouldn’t quench. She stepped off on unsteady legs.

“I’m going to skip the yoga,” she said.

“You’re damn right.” He hooked his fingers in her sports bra, yanked her against him.

His mouth was a fever on hers, burning reason, spiking delirium. Need and hunger—his ran as deep and desperate as hers, and that alone was a thrill. Heat, another wild surge of it, crashed through her so she wondered how either of them could stand against it.

“We have to hurry. We have to hurry.” She broke away from him, fighting for air. For one humming moment, they just stared at each other. “Catch me!” She sprinted to the door, heard her next gasping breath come out in a half-crazed laugh as she raced toward her room.

He caught her, swung her through the door.

Still laughing, she pivoted, slammed him back against the door to shut it, then devoured his mouth with hers.

“God. Oh God,” she managed, and yanked his shirt up, tossed it aside. Then ran her hands over his chest. “You’re all sweaty and slippery, and ...” She ran her tongue over him. “Salty. It makes me crazy. Quick,” she demanded and started to drag down his shorts.

“Not that quick.” He reversed, pushed her back against the door. He pulled off her sports bra, tossed it over his shoulder, then filled his hands with her breasts.

Her head fell back as his thumbs stroked her nipples. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. The race isn’t over. You don’t know what you do to me. I don’t know what you do to me. But I want more. I want you. I want more of you.”

She took his face in her hands to bring his mouth back to hers. “You can have all you want. All you want. Just don’t stop touching me. Don’t stop.”

He couldn’t. How could he keep his hands, his mouth, off that tight, taut body, that soft, hot skin? She pressed against him, murmuring against his lips, urging him to do what he wanted, take what he needed.

He’d never had another woman excite him like this, not like this until he could all but feel the blood pulsing, pounding, under his skin. Desire was too simple, too quiet a name for what she stirred in him. Passion too easy.

He dragged her arms over her head, pinned them against the door while he ravaged her mouth, her neck. Then he moved down her body, feasting. But the hunger only grew.

The bike pants fit her like a second skin, molding her hips, her thighs. He peeled them from her as he journeyed down. Until it was his hands molding her. Until there was no barrier between that wet heat and his lips, his tongue.

The orgasm tore through her, shocking her senses, blurring her vision. Her legs buckled, but he tightened his grip.

He did what he wanted. Took what he needed.

She couldn’t find air through the torrent of pleasure, couldn’t find balance in the thick, sultry dark. She could only feel the mad barrage of sensations that left her body quaking for the next assault.

Once again, he pulled her hands over her head, cuffed them. And with his eyes on hers, drove into her.

She came again, one long, shocking tear of control. When she shuddered, he thrust. When she shuddered, he plunged until it began to build again, impossibly.

Her wrists slipped from his hands so she gripped his shoulders, held fast as she felt his control begin to fray. She watched him watch her as they started the sprint, found the speed, matched their pace.

And hit the finish together.

They sprawled on the floor, both too weak, too sated to move. When the power of speech returned, Laurel sighed. “We’re going to be rich.”

“Huh?”

“Forgot.You’re already rich.
I’m
going to be rich, and you’ll be richer.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious. We’ve just discovered a no-fail motivation for exercise. Hot jungle sex. We’ll be Bill Gates rich. We’ll write a book. There’ll be DVDs and infomercials. America, then the world, will become buff and sexually satisfied. And they’ll have us to thank.”

“Will the DVDs and infomercial have demonstrations of the hot jungle sex?”

“On the Adult Only versions—and we can use a lot of mist and clever lighting and camera angles to keep it classy.”

“Honey, one of the perks of hot jungle sex is it’s not classy.”

“For production purposes it will be. We’re not making porn here. Think of the millions, Delaney.” She rolled onto her stomach so she could see his face. “The millions of unfit bodies who will read our book, see our DVD or infomercial, and think: holy shit, I can get me some of that if I work out? We’ll need to build the McBane-Brown Motivational Health Club so we can offer a safe, clean place for membership. We’ll franchise. They will pay, Del. Oh yes, they will pay big for this.”

“How come your name goes first on the Motivational Health Club?”

“My idea.”

“That’s true, but you wouldn’t have had the idea if I hadn’t just rocked your world.”

“Rocked yours right back.”

“Damn right, you did. Come here.” He pulled her over until she splayed across his chest. “Your name can go first.”

“Good. That’s settled. Of course we’ll have to have various DVDs for levels. Like Yoga for Beginners, and that sort of thing. Beginners, Intermediate, and Advanced. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“I’ll start the paperwork.”

“Do that. God, five miles and hot jungle sex. I should be exhausted, but I feel like I could do it all again and then ... Oh shit.”

“What?”

“The time! Five miles and HJS take longer than three miles and yoga. I’ve got to get in the shower.”

“Me, too.”

She gave his shoulder a light pinch. “It has to be just a shower. I’m off schedule.”

“Laurel, every man has his limits. I think I’ve reached mine for this morning.”

She got up, pushed back her hair. “Wimp,” she said, then dashed for the shower.

BY THE TIME SHE’D FINISHED HER MORNING BAKING, LAUREL WAS back on schedule. She’d opted for a DVD of
The Thin Man,
and arranged pastries for the ten o’clock on a pretty dish while Nick and Nora’s dialogue zinged from the kitchen set.

The air smelled indulgently of sugar and rich coffee, and held the cheer of some of Emma’s Shasta daisies.

She reached back to untie her apron as Parker walked in.

“Oh, you’re finished. I was coming in to help you with the setup.”

“With five minutes to spare? That’s not Parker time.”

“The clients called to reschedule for ten thirty.”

Laurel shut her eyes. “I killed myself to stay on schedule. You could’ve told me.”

“They just called ... okay, twenty minutes ago. But this way, nobody’s late.”

“You didn’t tell anyone.”

“I love that top,” Parker said brightly. “It’s almost a shame to cover most of it with a suit jacket.”

“That kind of thing only works on distracted clients.” But with a shrug, Laurel reached for the jacket she’d hung up before baking. “But it is a great top.”

“We’re not late!” Mac and Emma rushed in together.

“No, but the client’s going to be,” Laurel told them. “Sneaky Brown kept that to herself.”

“Only for twenty minutes.”

“Jeez. I don’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved. I need a hit.” Mac opened the refrigerator for a Diet Pepsi. “So ...” Mac uncapped the top, took a long sip as she studied Laurel. “I bet you’re feeling all loose and relaxed.”

“I’m fine. Why?”

“Oh, I bet a whole buncha lots better than fine. I bet hanging off a lamppost belting out a show tune in the rain kind of fine after that workout. Wait, let me put air quotes around ‘workout.’” She set down her drink and did just that.

“What, did you set up a hidden camera in my room?”

“I would never be so crude—unless I’d thought of it first. Besides, who needs a hidden camera? The two of you were sending off such wild sex vibes in there I had to leave before they caught me and I jumped both of you and had a threesome.”

“Really?” Parker asked, drawing out both syllables.

“Well, not about the threesome probably. Laurel’s not my type. I’d go for you, hot stuff.” She gave Parker a lewd wink.

“I thought I was your type,” Emma said.

“I’m such a slut.Anyway, the two of them are on those elliptical bastards, and the steam’s rising. Then they’re using workout code for sex talk.”

“We were not.”

“Oh, I broke your code.” Mac pointed a finger. “‘I’m coming up on you. I can finish strong.’ I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”

“You are a slut,” Laurel decided.

“I’m an engaged slut, and don’t you forget it. But I should thank you, as I took my unexpected sexual frustration out on Carter after our swim. And he thanks you, too.”

“Anytime.”

“This is all very interesting, and I mean that sincerely. But—” Parker tapped her watch. “We need to set up in the parlor.”

“Wait.” Emma tossed up a traffic cop hand. “Just one question, because I have to get the flowers out of the van. Do you really have energy for sex after your workout?”

“Read the book. Watch the infomercial.”

“What book?” Emma demanded as Laurel carried the pastries out of the kitchen. “What infomercial?”

“Flowers,” Parker said, then carted off the coffee setup.

“Damn it. Don’t talk about anything good until I get back. In fact, you have to help me haul in the flowers.”

“But I want to—”

Emma just made a cut-off sound, held up a finger at Mac.

“Okay, okay.”

In the parlor, Laurel and Parker set up the refreshments. “So, is it later?”

“Later than what?” Laurel responded.

“Later than it was earlier when you said later.”

“Yeah, it’s later.” Laurel fussed with the fan of napkins. “How many clients?”

“Bride, MOB, FOB, Groom, SMOG. Five.”

“Right. FOG was a widower. He’s not coming?”

“Out of town. You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. Of course, it’s not okay. I’m saying that because you’re my friend, and I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“You’re such a bitch.” Laurel had to laugh. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that I feel stupid about it. Especially now, after the hot jungle sex.”