She liked that he faced things head-on.
She laid her hands on his chest and looked him in the eyes. Words didn’t come, however. After the longest thirty seconds of her life, he lifted his hands and pulled out her hair clip, letting her hair fall around her face, then combed it with his fingers. He cupped her head, moved toward her. She suddenly wished she’d kicked off her shoes so that she could rise up on tiptoe to meet him. The idea made her smile.
“What?” he asked.
“You make me feel so … female.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “Is that a good thing?”
“No one has made me feel like that before.”
“Again, is that a good thing?”
“Yes.”
“How have you felt before?”
“I don’t know. Equal. Or sometimes even dominant.” She didn’t want to tell him more, didn’t want to give him ammunition for teasing her. She just knew she felt different with him.
“You’ve been plenty dominant with me.” He was still holding her head, keeping her close. His breath dusted her face. His beautiful dark brown eyes were filled with tenderness and need.
She smiled wider. “Not in comparison.”
“Ah.” He brushed his lips over hers once, twice, once more. “You make me feel different, too.”
His mouth finally settled on hers, his tongue seeking hers. She wound her arms around him.
So much for resisting each other.
With a sigh she gave in to her needs, not attempting to stop the urgent sounds that rose from within her, which seemed to arouse him more. He pulled her close, slid a hand over her rear, tugging her against him, letting her feel his need. She moved her hips against him, and his kisses turned almost violent. He fisted her hair and tipped her head back, ran his tongue down her neck, his fingers frantically opening the belts and buckles on her jacket then shoving the jacket off her, hearing it land with a quiet thud. She was starved for him, had never wanted like this before, as if she could die if she didn’t have him inside her immediately.
He fumbled with her zipper, then her skirt joined her jacket, leaving her in a sheer black bra, thong and boots. Her nipples were so hard, they hurt.
He took a step back to unbutton his shirt, dragged the tails free.
“When I’m ninety I will remember this,” he said, low and harsh.
She hooked her hand in his waistband and brought him closer, wanting him, needing him. She knelt before him, pressed her mouth to his fly, his hard need flattering and exciting. She reached for his belt buckle—
The phone rang.
“The answering machine will get it,” she murmured, placing both hands on him, watching his head fall back as she traced the length and breadth of him through the fabric.
Second ring.
He dragged her up, flicked open her bra and sent it flying.
Third ring.
He cupped her breasts, thumbed her nipples, sucked one into his mouth.
Fourth ring.
“We’re not home. Leave a message,” came Scarlet’s own voice from the nearby machine.
“Hi, it’s me!”
Summer.
John became like a statue.
“You must be out having fun. Maybe I’ll call your cell after this. Haven’t talked to you for a couple of days, and I’m missing you. Although not too much,” she added with a laugh. “Scar, I can’t tell you how happy I am. How incredible Zeke is. You’ve got to fall madly, passionately in love. You do. It’s … it’s indescribable.”
John straightened, stepped away. He shoved his shirt into his pants. His eyes met Scarlet’s. She felt naked, clear to her soul. She couldn’t read his thoughts. He guarded his expression.
“Zeke, stop. I’m talking to my sister.”
In the background came the rumble of a deep voice, but the words weren’t clear.
John scooped up Scarlet’s jacket. She turned around, letting him help her put it on. She tugged the edges together before she faced him again.
“I guess I won’t call you on your cell, after all. I have something else—” Summer laughed “—to do at the moment. I’ll catch you later. Bye. I miss you.”
Scarlet didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t joke about it—it wasn’t the least bit funny. And making light of it wouldn’t sit well with either of them.
As a reminder of the predetermined parameters of their risky relationship, it had a powerful effect. Resistance was the key. This time they needed to try harder.
Maybe her disappointment and fears were in her eyes, though, because John laid a hand tenderly along her face. She covered it with her own.
“Tomorrow night?” he asked.
She nodded. She wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to see him, be with him.
He left with no kiss, no hug. Just a long, thorough, final look at her in her jacket, thong and boots.
For the first time in her life, she wished she didn’t have a sister.
Eight
Saturday refused to pass by with any kind of speed. Scarlet picked out what she would wear on her Woo U date, pressed it, chose jewelry, then looked at the clock. Noon. She had hours and hours to fill. Normally she would spend her free time sewing, but not now. She was too keyed up, plus today was glorious, clear and crisp. She decided to walk the three miles to the EPH building and work out in the company gym.
At the gym Scarlet pushed herself until every muscle burned, then she showered, wrapped up in a towel and settled in the sauna. She wished she could say that she’d been able to block John from her thoughts, but she kept seeing the look on his face—or the nonlook—as Summer talked to the answering machine, and how quickly he’d left.
Not that she would’ve wanted to make love after that, either, but—
No but. There was nothing either of them could’ve done differently. Fate had intervened. For a moment—just a moment—she’d even thought they might have a chance for a future together.
The sauna door opened, and Fin came in. She was entitled to use the private executive section but hadn’t chosen to. The four siblings being put through the wringer for the CEO job were straining to keep their familial ties, but it was more of a competition now than a family unit.
“Good workout?” Fin asked as she sat a few feet from Scarlet.
“I pushed myself hard.
