Sweet and Sinful. Jodi Lynn Copeland

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Sweet and Sinful - Jodi Lynn Copeland


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easy?”

      “No. But he has always had a thing for you.”

      Always? As in, even back when she’d been wearing her conservative clothing and living in fear of speaking her mind beyond from a professional standpoint? “Yeah, right.”

      Candy placed a hand over her heart, covering almost more of her left breast than her turquoise silk halter top did. “Swear to God. He checks out your ass every opportunity he gets.”

      “He’s been doing this since I started working here?”

      “Yep.”

      Not possible. Not having seen the women on Blaine’s arm at various company events. Not one of them had looked average. They were all stunning. All confident. All every bit the sex diva Courtney had become. “Are you trying to boost my confidence?”

      “Hell, no. You’re doing a rocking job working the assertive, hot-bodied hoochie angle all on your own. Next time you’re around Blaine, give him an opening to look at your ass and I guarantee he’ll take it without a single bit of encouragement.”

      The kitchen door swished inward behind him, and Blaine cursed under his breath. Throwing a spur-of-the-moment party, a day after returning home from an extended leave, had been a stupid-ass move. Not only did he have to spend two hours after work shopping for food and drinks, but he was still suffering from jet lag. It was barely after eight and he was exhausted.

      With his back to the door, he leaned his elbows against the edge of the sink and stared out the window at the guests milling about his treed-in, half-acre backyard. The short end of an L-shaped, black and gray marble-topped counter separated him from whoever was behind him. Between the partial blockage and his stance, hopefully the person would take a hint and leave him to his alone time.

      “Blaine.” Courtney’s voice came out a mix of surprise and delight.

      Just like that he wasn’t tired anymore. Just like that he was anxious as hell to entertain.

      “Courtney. It’s good to see you.” He spoke as he turned around, and then realized how big of an understatement the words were.

      Standing a foot inside the doorway, she wore the sheer thigh-high stockings with the sexy black pinstripe she’d had on at the office. The green, off-the-shoulder top and black skirt were gone. Chain-link silver earrings dangled from her ears to nearly brush her bare shoulders, and a hot pink, spaghetti strap sheath dress clung to the swell of her breasts, the material coasting down her trim sides and shapely hips to end an inch before her stockings began. His fingers tingled with the prospect of touching the tanned skin revealed there.

      “I’ve been here a while.” The surprise was gone from her voice, the delight now paired with the raw sensuality he felt calling to him this morning.

      Blaine traveled his attention back up her body to find her gaze as assessing as his own. He hadn’t had time to change out of the blue jeans and casual off-white shirt he’d worn to work, before guests started arriving at his house. The heat sizzling in Courtney’s eyes and tipping her hot pink lips up at the corners suggested she approved of his appearance all the same.

      She lifted the red plastic glass in her hand. “I didn’t realize the kitchen was off limits. My drink got warm while I was visiting, so I was trying to track down some ice.”

      He smiled over the irony. Ice had been his excuse for retreating to the sanctity of his kitchen. More specifically, refilling the ice bucket from the snack table in the living room for the exact purpose that had brought her here.

      Crossing to the counter, he grabbed the steel ice bucket and went to the refrigerator. “It’s not off limits,” he assured her as he pulled open the freezer-side door. Frosty air rushed out to greet him. With the way his internal temperature shot up at the sight of Courtney in that barely legal dress, the chilly blast was welcome.

      “So you weren’t trying to escape by hiding out in here?”

      He glanced over at her as he filled the ice bucket. He didn’t know a lot about her, outside of the fact that she was damned good at her job, but that question had sounded incredibly astute. “Know a thing or two about escape?”

      Hesitation passed through her eyes for an instant. Then she gave him a smile that was pure feline. “You know as well as I do some people don’t get the concept of no strings.”

      Blaine’s body forgot all about the freezer’s calming effect with the sexual intimation. His cock stirred against his zipper. He definitely knew all about strings and he knew right now he wanted to tug down the two thin ones keeping her dress in place.

      Shutting the freezer door, he crossed to where she stood. His first thought at seeing her this morning was that she looked just like Candy, minus the hairstyle. Within touching distance, he could see the differences went well beyond their hair. Courtney’s legs were longer and her breasts, while still plentiful, smaller. Her face was smaller, as well. Her mouth wider and her eyes more round. The combination of her facial features managed to make her look both sweet and sinful at once.

      And had him damned anxious to take advantage of proximity.

      Traveling his gaze suggestively along her body, he gave her the opening to do so instead. “Take what you want.”

      Courtney’s throat made a catching sound as she eyed first the ice bucket in the crook of one of his arms and then the growing bulge at the front of his jeans. Her eyes lifted to meet his. With a knowing grin, he silently dared her to reach out and fill up her hands.

      She did. With ice.

      Disappointment sailed through him as she plunked three small chunks of ice into her glass. With a murmured, “Thanks,” she started to turn toward the door.

      No way was he letting her walk away that easily. Not when the air between them radiated with sexual heat and energy. Not when her nipples were pushing hard at the front of her dress, making his mouth hungry and it clear she wore no bra.

      “Stay.” Blaine spoke the word with an edge of demand. Just as he’d been accurate about her naughty thoughts, he had a gut feeling she would be the type who liked to be told what to do when it came to sex. Just as she would want to have her own turn at being the dominant one.

      His mind roaming with kinky demands, he backed the few feet to the table, and set the ice bucket on top. He patted the table’s black lacquered surface. “Have a seat. You wanted to hear how things went in Iraq.”

      Indecision warred in her eyes as she glanced from him to the door and back again. For a moment he entertained the idea her new look was all for show, then he recalled she was on a date. The guy was undoubtedly out in the living room, his presence giving her reason to hesitate.

      Before he could offer up further encouragement, Courtney’s back and forth glances came to a halt. Eagerness took over her expression as she sashayed over on spiked silver heels and set her glass on the table. With a provocative wiggle of her hips, she slid onto the table and balanced her heels on the front edge of a chair. “It had to be scorching hot.”

      “Sweltering,” Blaine agreed with a nod. As was his blood as he appreciated the way her short hem rode up with her position, nearly exposing her panties. If she wore any. “Dry heat, but that doesn’t make it any less potent.”

      Her hand shot out, reaching toward him. The thought she was ready to touch was enough to have his breath jerking in and his dick pearling with pre-cum.

      Her fingers spread but failed to make contact as her eyes trained on his right arm. “Did you do some of the building work yourself?”

      Muscles contracted in his arm reflexively. “I helped out, yeah.”

      “It shows.”

      She’d all but purred the words, sounding as strung out with desire as he felt. That being the case, he flexed the biceps in his right arm a second time. Appreciation shimmered in her eyes and her fingers formed into a fist as if she had to contain them.

      He


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