When it came to women that would be a capital Y*E*S. To both.
“How would you go about it?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Give me your best line.”
He stood. She looked up at him warily. “It’s not so much what I say as how I say it,” he explained as he walked toward her. “It’d be loud and crowded in the bar, so I’d have to lean in close like this.” He turned her to face him, stepped forward, and leaned in, putting his mouth inches from her ear. She smelled so good. “I’d start off quiet, knowing you can’t hear me.” He whispered some gibberish.
“What?”
“Exactly.” He uncrossed her arms. “So I’d move in closer.” He did, brushing the front of his thigh against the front of hers, setting his lips close enough to touch the inner rim of her ear and, making sure to expel a hot rush of breath, as he said, “I forgot my phone number, could I borrow yours?”
She didn’t laugh or criticize his corny line. Instead she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, ever so slightly, giving him better access.
Success.
He slid his hand up the nape of her neck and, keeping his voice soft and deep, said, “Or maybe I’d say something like, ‘I love that blouse.’” He ran a gentle finger down the inside of an arm hole, caressing her delicate skin as he did. “‘It’d look perfect draped over the back of the chair in my bedroom.’” Just to introduce the idea of her getting naked in his condo. He made sure his lower lip grazed along her earlobe as he moved away.
“Wow,” she said on an exhaled breath. “You’re good.” She opened her eyes and blinked as if trying to get them back into focus. “On that admission I think I’d better be going.” Without further hesitation she turned and moved away.
“No,” he said, taking her hand, desperate to keep her close. “Please. Don’t go.” Because he didn’t want to be alone, because he liked spending time with her, because, Lord help him, he craved her with a ferocity capable of significant damage to his manly assets if he didn’t do something about it.
“I don’t know,” she said in that teasing tone of hers. “You promised to be a perfect gentleman around me.” She looked down at his hand squeezing hers. “Yet the vibe I’m getting is anything but gentlemanly.”
Perceptive.
“I promised not to kiss you again,” he clarified, pulling her back to him. “And I won’t.” He nuzzled in close to her ear and whispered, “Unless you ask me real nice.” He’d get her to make the first move, to beg him to touch her for real. Then she’d have no basis to be angry with him afterwards.
“Suppose I stay,” she asked. “What did you have in mind for us to do that doesn’t involve kissing?”
Caressing. Licking. Exploring. “Anything you want.”
ANYTHING YOU WANT.
Yikes! An open invitation like that could get a girl into trouble. Or it could satisfy the increasingly distracting yearning responsible for loss of sleep, poorly-timed bouts of daydreaming, and an on-edge/wound-too-tight feeling that Scarlet felt certain a night of stellar sex would remedy.
“Anything I want?”
His lips formed a sexy half-smile. “In the closet or outside of it.”
So he’d heard that comment. “We do girls night out once a month,” she explained, trying to ignore the effects his close proximity had on her body. “My friends like to share their sexual exploits over pricey cocktails. And let me tell you, I have some adventurous friends.”
“Dare I hope birds of a feather flock together?” he asked.
In her case, they did. But she wouldn’t tell him that. “Anyway,” she emphasized, moving along. “Out of all the places they’ve had sex, and there have been some interesting places, no one in the group has ever done it in a closet.”
“I think you should be the first,” he said in earnest.
Oh did he?
“I have three that can accommodate us,” he added.
She looked up at him. “Us? As in you and me?” She gestured back and forth between them. “As in you and the absolute last woman you should lust after because of my friendship with your daughter?”
“So you have something to talk about the next time you go out with your girlfriends.” He stared into her eyes. “It sounded like it’s been a while since you had anything...adventurous to contribute.”
Eighteen months to be exact. In her defense, they’d been very busy months involving long hours spent at the hospital, with her all female staff. And the majority of men she came in contact with were either married, in the midst of family crisis, or doctors. None of them viable boyfriend material, especially doctors, her professional colleagues, who were as preoccupied by their patients and worked the same insane amount of hours she did. A relationship would never work.
And yet she’d been entertaining some relationship-worthy thoughts about Dr. Lewis Jackson—in a closet.
“You’re a standup guy, Dr. Jackson.” She used his professional credential to remind her who she was dealing with. “Ready to stuff yourself in a closet for me and all.”
“The perfect gentleman in me is willing, able, and ready to assist you in one-upping your friends. And when we’re alone, please call me Lewis.”
“Will you respond to Lou?”
“Only if it’s preceded by ‘kiss me.’”
Not gonna happen. After experiencing the good sense eradicating power of his kiss firsthand, and dreaming of it night after night since then, if Scarlet had any hope of keeping things between them platonic, she could not invite, encourage, or in any way appear to welcome another kiss, because if his lips made contact with hers, she would not be able to resist him. And resist him she must.
Scarlet liked Lewis, as a friend. A friend she happened to be crazy attracted to. Would a night of sex squelch that attraction or make it even more difficult to ignore? Would it lead to awkward interactions or ongoing secret hookups behind Jessie’s back? Would it remain private or would someone find out?
Would it hurt Jessie or negatively impact Scarlet’s chances of adopting Joey?
She refused to risk either.
Time to take back control.
She sidled up to Lewis, pressing her breasts to his chest, reaching up to cup the back of his neck and pull his head down so she could whisper in his ear. “I hope you were serious when you said anything,” she whispered. “What I have in mind will involve strength.” She caressed his biceps. “And patience. I don’t like to be rushed.”
“You set the pace,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. Two large hands gripped her butt and pulled her bottom half flush with
