Stripping It Down (7 page)

She spotted them where they occupied a leather sofa in the back of the bar. He watched her wide gray-blue eyes register recognition, surprise at his presence, and finally pleasure that she couldn't quite disguise at seeing him there. He didn't even realize he'd been anxious until he saw that little smile. Even in his anticipation, he'd been worried that she'd still be too freaked out to let him get close again.

He took pure, animal pleasure in watching her as she walked toward them with an easy, unhurried stride. Elizabeth, seated in the middle of the two men, pointedly shoved over closer to Michael so Kit would have no choice but to sit pressed up against Jake. Jake slid toward the end of the couch, giving Kit just enough room to slide her hips in. As she sat her scent filled his nostrils, a fresh mix of perfume and shampoo that made him want to release her thick brown hair from its clip and bury his face in the curve of her neck.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said as she sat. The feel of her warm weight settling against him was enough to bring his cock to instant, aching attention. The way her tits bounced as she shimmied out of her jacket didn't help. Kit sat back, caught him watching, and raised a knowing eyebrow.

"Hope you don't mind that I invited Jake along," Michael said as he motioned the waitress over.

Kit ran her tongue deliberately over the plump, glossy curve of her lips. "I don't mind at all."

Jake grinned back and stretched his arm along the back of the couch, lust pounding through his veins when he felt her casually rest her palm on his thigh.

Patience. Pretty soon he would have Kit right where he wanted her.

***

I've got him right where I want him. Kit couldn't believe her good luck. Saved from having to chase Jake down in the interest of good column fodder! If it wouldn't have earned her a slap from Elizabeth, she'd lean over and kiss Michael in gratitude.

She'd been a little worried when she'd seen him, unable to completely suppress the insecure teenager who still lurked inside. What if he really had no interest in seeing her again? Men were easy enough, and she was confident that she'd be able to get him to sleep with her again at the very least. But the idea of having to work at it didn't sit right with her.

But given the way Jake was eyeing her the way a lion eyes a steak, she had nothing to worry about.

And, Kit admitted, she was equally eager to have him drag her off and pin her against the closest flat surface.

The next hour seemed interminable as they sipped their drinks and talked about Elizabeth and Michael's upcoming nuptials. A month and a half away, the wedding had Elizabeth wired so tight it was a wonder she didn't spontaneously combust. No wonder she was pounding the wine like it was water.

"Kit, you're one of my besht – best friends," Elizabeth slurred. "I really love you, you know?"

Oh no. Elizabeth had crossed the line from happily tipsy to "I love you, man" drunk.

"I love you too," Kit said gently, returning her friend's sloppy hug and pulling a face at Michael over her shoulder.

"But I worry about you," Elizabeth continued, grabbing her wineglass and not seeming to notice when she missed her mouth completely and spilled down her chin. She looked at the napkins Kit handed her as

though she was not sure what to do with them.

Jake chuckled behind her, and Kit shot him a glare over her shoulder.

"I don't know why you would worry about me," Kit said to Elizabeth.

"Becaushe you need to find love, Kit. Everyone needs love."

Oh God, here we go. "There is nothing wrong with my love life," she said, though she recognized the futility of arguing with a woman who'd eaten nothing but lettuce all day in an effort to fit into her designer wedding dress and then consumed an entire bottle of chardonnay.

"You have all these men, Kit, like that Max, Mort""

"Matt?" Kit supplied.

"Yeah, that one with all the tattoos?" Elizabeth scowled at the memory. "Dint like 'im." She belched a little, and Kit could feel Jake shaking with suppressed laughter. "Stupid tortured writer type."

Kit sighed but couldn't deny Elizabeth's assessment of poor maligned Matt.

"Shee, you have these men, Kit, but you don't have love. Don't you want to find someone to love, someone you can get sherious about""

"Okay little matchmaker," Michael broke in, "let's get you home."

He pulled Elizabeth to her feet and mouthed, "Sorry," silently to Kit over her head. Kit waved his apology away. The poor woman was planning a ridiculously lavish wedding for nearly four hundred people while running her own interior design business. It was enough to drive any woman to drink.

"Like my Mikey," Elizabeth said dreamily as Michael got her to her feet, supporting her with one arm wrapped around her waist. "Don't you want a man just like my Mikey?"

Frankly, no, Kit thought as she took in Mike's dirty blond, slightly thinning hair; his medium frame with shoulders that were showing the first signs of corporate slump, and a midsection that hadn't revealed an ab muscle in a decade. But Elizabeth adored him and he treated her like a queen, so maybe there was something to that.

"So tell me more about these men Elizabeth mentioned," Jake said as they sat back down and watched Michael guide his inebriated fiancée to the door. "I didn't know I was among legions."

Though he tried to keep his tone light, the derisive edge was unmistakable. "Typical sexist response," she said, pinning him with a look of disgust. "Not that it's any of your business, but you're not ‘one among legions,' as you so charmingly put it." The way he said it conjured up an image of her lying naked and spread-eagled on her bed, pushing a guy off her even as she yelled, "Next."

Is that what he thought of her? So what if he did. She didn't give a crap.

"How many?" he said tightly, taking a big gulp of his vodka tonic as though bracing himself.

"Total? Or just this week?" A frisson of unease trickled through her veins as she met his icy green glare. His question didn't deserve an answer, yet she heard herself say, "More than can be counted on one hand, but fewer than can be counted on both." She took a hearty sip of cabernet and waited for his reaction.

"Total, or just this week?" he mocked.

"What about you?" she shot back. "Big stud like you, I'm sure you've had your share of tail. If I recall correctly, all four of you

The Donovan boys were notorious along the north shore." Their little town was right outside Lake Tahoe, near some of the best skiing and mountain sports in the country. As such, there was always a steady inflow of tourists, and Kit could feel her smile harden as she remembered all the stories she'd heard about Jake and some ski bunny or other.

A dark flush stained his cheekbones, evident even in the dim light of the bar.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, telling herself she couldn't care less about Jake's lovers that came before or after her. So why did the thought of him with another woman cause the wine to curdle in her gut?

Chalking it up to drinking on an empty stomach, Kit firmly reminded herself of her purpose. Taunting Jake about his sexual past and luring him into a combative conversation about sexual double standards was not going to help her write her columns.

Luckily he seemed equally eager to change the conversation's course. But not in the direction she would have liked. "So do you want to find love, Kit?"

Maybe I already have. The thought barely had time to register before she thrust it away. They had to get off this track, fast, before she said something she really regretted. Turning to face him, she set her wineglass on the table and slid her palm slowly up his thigh. Steely muscles jumped through the fabric, the heat of his skin coursing through her fingers. "Not tonight," she whispered. "Tonight I'll settle for good, old-fashioned lust."

The distraction was effective – for both of them. A hot pulse of said lust surged between her legs as Jake pulled her face close for a greedy, tongue-thrusting kiss. One hand traced the bare skin of her calf, up over her thigh, traveling upward to squeeze the curve of her ass in his big, broad palm. For several minutes they made out on the couch like two crazed teenagers in the back of a bus. It was only as Kit's hand trailed down his abs toward his waistband that Jake seemed to come to his senses.

Lucky for her, since she'd been about to get them both arrested for lewd conduct.

Grabbing her briefcase in one hand and her in the other, Jake steered her out onto the street. The cold air brought her partially back to her senses. Even at this relatively late hour, this part of the city was crowded with the shoppers and diners that frequented San Francisco's Union Square neighborhood.

Kit cursed. They needed a cab, now. She barely recognized the sexcrazed woman who seemed to take over her body whenever Jake so much as laid a finger on her, but if she didn't get him inside her, and soon, her entire body was going to burst into flame.

Jake tugged at her arm, hurrying her along. She prayed his hotel was close.

Apparently Jake had another destination in mind. After a block or so, he yanked her into an alley between two buildings, dropped her briefcase, and unceremoniously pinned her up against a cold brick wall. His mouth met hers with bruising force. "I can't wait," he muttered between his tongue's luscious forays. "I have to get inside of you."

Wet heat surged between her thighs, her pussy clenching in anticipation. Still..."What if someone sees us?"

"Don't tell me," he whispered as he bit and sucked at her neck, "an experienced, sophisticated,” she moaned as his hand clamped firmly over her mound, “woman like you would let a little thing like getting caught stop her." His fingers yanked the crotch of her thong aside and sank into her hot, willing folds. "I didn't think so," he said, pumping his fingers in and out, finding her more than ready.

Big hands shoved her skirt up around her hips. Kit yanked open his belt and tugged on his fly, groaning when his rock-hard cock surged against her hands.

"You make me so hard," he whispered, thrusting against her fist as he fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. "It's only been two days, but I feel like I've been missing you for years."

She pulled him closer until the tip of his shaft brushed against her slick, wet core. His hand shoved hers aside to roll on a condom. "Are you always this prepared?"

He lifted her with a husky chuckle, pinning her firmly against the wall and hooking one leg up over his elbow. "If I was lucky enough to see you again," his voice hitched on a groan as he sank all the way in, "I wanted to be ready." He ground hard against her, pulled almost all the way out as her greedy inner muscles quivered and grasped to keep him buried deep.

Kit started to come as he shoved back inside. The back of her head ground against the rough brick wall; her leg gripped his hip as she struggled to press herself against him more firmly. A high, keening wail erupted from her throat, and Jake's hand came up to cover her mouth. She writhed and squirmed against him as he thrust in hard, heavy strokes, grinding the base of his shaft against her clit, making her orgasm go on and on.

He came with a softly hissed curse, replacing his hand with his lips to take her mouth in a surprisingly tender kiss.

Kit barely felt him pull out and straighten her skirt, slowly becoming aware of her surroundings. Holy crap, she'd just had sex in public – in an alley, for God's sake! Never in her life had she so completely lost control, especially when it came to sex. She watched Jake ditch the condom in a nearby dumpster and zip up his fly.

This was insane. The whole encounter had taken less than five minutes, and other than a couple of rumpled shirtfronts, their clothing had barely been disturbed.

With shaky hands she twisted her hair back up into a knot and secured it with her clip. Jake picked up her briefcase, and she wrapped her shaky fingers around the handle of her purse. She'd dropped it at some point during their ten-second foreplay.

He slid his hand around her waist and nuzzled his face against her neck. "I want to get you home and get you naked," he murmured.

Unbelievably, her nipples immediately went rock hard and her pussy clenched in primitive response. Kit chose not to dwell on her disturbing, overwhelming response to Jake and instead focused on the fact that if she could keep him around for the next month, "Stripping It Down" would have ample source material.

Chapter 7

Jake went home with Kit that night and never left. Three weeks later he sat at her kitchen table drinking coffee in his boxers and eating his Cheerios as though he owned the place.

She eyed him over the Entertainment section of the paper, still not entirely sure how this had all happened.

First his toothbrush had appeared next to hers. Next, his razor took up permanent residence on her sink. Soon after, he'd started bringing a spare change of clothing, until finally, Sunday afternoon he'd arrived with his suitcase and asked her for a spare key.

Like an idiot she'd given him one.

Other items had followed. Instead of being used as a receptacle for nail polish and leftover takeout, her refrigerator now contained a wide variety of fruits and vegetables, milk, and beer. Even as it gave her pause, Kit had to admit it was nice to wake up and always have milk for her coffee.

Still, just because Jake was acting like a live-in boyfriend didn't actually make him one. After all, he was leaving in a little over a week to return to Boston, at which point she fully expected him to end their affair. Because despite his proprietary move into her apartment and into her life, he'd said nothing about wanting a commitment beyond what they currently had.

Which is more than fine with me, she reminded herself firmly.

Though she would miss the sight of him half-naked in her kitchen.

Unable to resist, she moved behind him, sliding her fingers through the dusting of black curls covering his world-class chest. He tilted his head back and she kissed him, the taste of hot coffee and hotter man nearly bringing her to her knees. Though she'd never admit it, there was something to this full-time boyfriend thing.