Wicked. Tori Carrington
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just moved into more serious, more sensual terrain. And, she was surprised to find, she wanted to explore it. If just for a little while.
And Will appeared equally willing. “Then what is it you would call what you do every time our paths cross?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said ambiguously. “Issuing you an invitation?”
“An invitation?” he echoed.
“Mmm-hmm.” She stepped closer, smoothing down the collar of his crisp white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to reveal his strong, hair-covered forearms. She’d meant to put him on alert, but found her own palms sensitized as she stroked the Egyptian broadcloth, feeling the heat of his body just below the material.
“An invitation to what, might I ask?”
She stepped closer, increasingly aware that she wasn’t only arousing Will, she was arousing herself. Her nipples tingled in sweet anticipation, her stomach tightened, and her thighs squeezed slightly together. “What do you think?”
Her hips skimmed against his, and she instantly detected his very obvious physical reaction to her come-on. Oh boy. Suddenly she was having just as much difficulty swallowing as he was.
Who would have thought? While she’d always gotten a little thrill at flirting with Will, she’d never seriously considered pursuing anything with him. But as she stood there, well aware of the signals he was giving off, the signals her own body was sending her, she realized they’d reached a fork in the road. She had one of two choices: either laugh off the current sexual tension radiating from them both and walk away, or kiss him and let nature take its course.
Funny, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to make either decision. Instead she allowed her gaze to drop leisurely to his mouth. His lips were so well defined. So sexy. So naughty. And she had little doubt he’d know what to do with them.
Liquid awareness swirled in her stomach then gathered at the center of her sex. She shivered slightly in response. How long had it been since she’d had sex? Gone out on a date, even? Too long, her body instantly responded. At least eight or so months. And even then the experience hadn’t been anything to remember.
“You, um, should probably get going,” Will said quietly.
Even as he said the words, Renae got the distinct impression that he didn’t want her to go anywhere but up to his condo with him.
“Otherwise, you might be late,” he continued.
Renae recognized the sexual tension that seemed to emanate from him and wind around her. She decided she liked the feeling. Liked knowing that Will wanted her but appeared to have his own reasons for not laying claim to her. Reasons that went beyond his misperception of her relationship with her roommate.
“Mmm,” she finally agreed. “Yes, I probably should be going.”
She said the words even as she knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
DAMN IT ALL TO HELL, he was going to kiss her.
Will looked down into Renae’s provocative face, suffering a need so consuming, so overwhelming it loomed outside anything he’d experienced before. Oh, he was a normal male with normal male urges. But considering what he knew about the woman looking up at him like the answer to his sexual prayers, the only thing he should be doing was heading for the door.
Instead he said, “What would you do right now if I kissed you?”
Her full, luscious lips curved slightly upward in a sexy smile. “Oh, I don’t know. Kiss you back?”
That was all the answer Will needed. He curved his hands around her gloriously bare back and hauled her to him, noisy costume and all, not stopping until he’d molded her mouth to his.
Damn. He’d been hoping that her lips would be dry, her skill lacking. But kissing Renae Truesdale was nothing short of sweet heaven. Squared.
Or, rather, burning, seductive hell. Because surely that’s where he was heading by kissing a woman who was definitely not Janet. A woman who led her life differently from the majority of society.
A woman who was making him not care a lick about any of it with every delectable flick of her tongue.
Will moved his hands against her back, growing all too aware of the softness of her skin, the suppleness of her warm flesh. Heavy breathing filled his ears and with a start he realized it was his own.
He groaned and caught her pert bottom in his palms, crowding her even tighter against his almost painful arousal. How easy it would be to carry her up the flight of steps to his condo. Lay her across his unmade king-size bed. Act out every last wicked fantasy he’d had about her ever since she’d moved in.
But to do so would be to tempt fate in a way he wasn’t sure he should just then.
Unfortunately he wasn’t having much luck convincing his hormone-ravaged body that it should care.
Renae’s fingers had pulled his shirt from his trousers and were even now flattening against the taut skin of his stomach, her moves bold and mesmerizing. She slid her touch lower and cupped the length of him in her hand.
Will’s answering shudder was so all encompassing that he feared if she suggested they do the deed right then, right there, he would be helpless to stop himself from pressing her against the wall of mailboxes and curving her legs around his waist.
The hand disappeared from the front of his trousers at the same time her mouth moved from his.
Will blinked at the sexy vixen, his brain little more than scattered gray matter turned to lustful mush.
“Well, I’d better get going,” Renae said, her color high, the pitch of her raspy voice even higher.
He found himself nodding stupidly, his mind knowing she was right but his body screaming otherwise. “Yes, you’d better.”
She smiled, skimming her luscious body against his in order to gain access to the outer door. It was all Will could do to stop himself from collapsing against the wall of mailboxes. Thankfully he was still standing upright when she turned toward him.
“That was definitely interesting,” she said, as if surprised and pleased at the events of the past few moments.
“Interesting…yes. That it was,” he agreed.
And Will had the feeling that things were only going to get a lot more interesting from there.
2
RENAE LOVED WORKING at Women Only. The shop that sat on the Ohio-Michigan border was more than a job to her that provided a check at the end of the week. Ever since owner Ginger Wasserman had opened the place and hired her on the spot five years ago, she’d felt invested in the shop’s success. Responsible for making the clientele happy. Dedicated not only to coming up with new ideas for services and supplies women might be interested in, but to seeing them through.
That was why it seemed strange that the shop was the last thing on her mind when she arrived there fifteen minutes after her intimate encounter with Will Sexton next to the mailboxes.
“Boy, you must really be looking forward to this class.”
Renae blinked Lucky Clayborn’s pretty face into focus. More than her co-worker, she and Lucky shared similar pasts that had aided in their growing close over the past two months. And now that Lucky was opening up a satellite Women Only shop downtown, Renae saw more of her than ever. Which made coming to work doubly enjoyable.
“The costume,” Lucky said by way of an explanation.
Renae stared down at the belly-dancer outfit she wore, almost surprised to discover she still had it on.
It had been a long time since a guy had driven her to the point of distraction.
Longer still since one had made her forget what she was wearing.
Very