Frisky Business (15 page)

Will pulled the catalog back, flipping to the next page. “I love the names for these. Platinum Pete, All-Night Bender, Tongue Tied, Big Bang—”

Marley finally managed to snatch the catalog from his hand, and Will didn’t fight to hold on to it. Instead, he enjoyed the warm brush of her bare arm against his.

He wouldn’t have blamed her one bit if she’d marched away to stuff the catalog in a drawer, but something must have caught her eye.

“They make a vibrator called the Wild Hare?”

“I saw that one,” Will said. “It’s the bunny ears.”

“Now I know what to get Bed for Christmas.” Marley turned the page, seemingly fascinated by the selection. “There’s also a Major Hare. She could line them up and march them around her nightstand.”

“There’s a pleasant thought.”

Marley laughed and flipped another page. “You’re the one who started this. I don’t think I need to tell you this is a wildly inappropriate channel of discussion between two virtual strangers attempting to establish a professional business relationship.”

“Who’s holding the magazine here?”

“Me, thank you very much. How else would I know about the Diamond Collection?”

“Diamond Collection?”

Marley smacked the page with the back of her hand. “A girl’s best friend, apparently. A girl with money to burn, anyway. Look at this.”

She held the page out to him, and Will’s eyes fixed on the shiny, phallic shape before shifting to the price. He whistled. “For $279, I hope it buys you dinner first.”

Marley flipped another page. “We really should stop. This is highly unprofessional.”

“Depends on your profession.” He peered at the page she’d turned to and raised an eyebrow. “Is the Double Trouble Dual-Bullet C-ring a sex toy or something you’d use to remove paint?”

“Can I close this now?”

“Wait, I’m trying to decide between the Jelly Tool Belt and the Jelly C-ring. Which would be better for bike repairs?”

Marley shook her head and closed the catalog, setting it beside her wineglass. She folded her hands on her placemat and lifted her chin. “We really should stop. Don’t you think?”

It was a real question, not a rhetorical one, and Will met her eyes. Her smile was faint, but still in place, and there was something else in her eyes. Curiosity? Intrigue? Desire? He didn’t know her well enough to tell, which also meant he didn’t know her well enough to do any of the dozens of things he urgently wanted to do with her right now. He held her eyes anyway, since it seemed wiser than holding
her
.

His brain veered dangerously there, imagining Marley in his arms, her bare flesh warm against his fingertips, her hair skimming his naked chest. He imagined burying his face against her neck, smelling blueberries on her skin, tasting the salty sweetness of that soft spot behind her ear.

Stop
it!
he ordered himself.
You
know
you
can’t trust her. She’s a neurotic people pleaser with a hidden agenda and a suspicious text message on her phone.

Will blinked, and his eyes focused on her face again. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hazel eyes held his with an intensity that made all the air leave his lungs.

Just
a
fling. As long as I don’t get attached…

Marley’s lips parted, and he felt a surge of lust as her tongue flicked the corner of her mouth. “You’re trying to come up with a joke right now, aren’t you?” she asked.

“What?”

“To break the awkwardness.” Her voice was oddly husky. “Here we are, sitting at my dining room table with a sex toy catalog and a lot of sexual vibes between us, and you’re racking your brain to come up with a bad joke to diffuse the tension.”

“A good joke would suffice.”

“I’m waiting.”

Will hesitated, not sure whether she waited for a joke or something else. Maybe she didn’t know either.

“Knock knock,” he said.

Marley grinned. “Who’s there?”

“The guy who wants to strip your clothes off and have his way with you on the table.”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “Is that your idea of a punch line or foreplay?”

“Sometimes they’re the same thing.”

Marley hesitated, then moved her hand a little closer to Will’s. “I know we agreed it would be a dumb idea for us to get involved…”

“We did?”

“I think so.”

“Right. Remind me again why?”

“Corporate policy strictly forbids it,” Marley said, licking her lips. “And I’ve given up on dating rich guys.”

“Right. That.”

“And also you have all kinds of crazy trust issues,” she added. “Which means I’d be crazy to get involved with you.”

“Define
involved
.”

Marley moved her hand closer, but still didn’t touch him. Will was pretty sure the temperature in the dining room had risen twenty degrees in the last ten minutes. He shifted his eyes to the flutter of pulse in her throat and realized she was breathing harder, her skin more flushed now than it was when she’d emerged from the kitchen with the pasta.

“So anyway,” Marley continued as though Will hadn’t mentally undressed her a dozen times in the last minute, “we really shouldn’t fool around.”

“Fool around,” Will repeated, choosing to ignore the first part of what she’d said. He was too busy studying her hand now, watching the delicate bones of her fingers drumming the table in a nervous rhythm. He thought about capturing one in his mouth, sucking the tip of it to make her moan and press her body against him. He was starting to feel dizzy now and wondered if there was any blood left in his brain.

“I mean, I know plenty of people get away with some sort of friends-with-benefits arrangement,” Marley continued, her voice high and tight now. “But really, I don’t think that ever works when—”

“Marley?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Shut up.”

Then he made sure it happened. His mouth was on hers before she could protest, and he pulled her out of her chair with more force than necessary. He dragged her onto his lap, and she came willingly, twining her fingers behind his neck.

She made a tiny squeak in the back of her throat as he shifted her weight across his knee, but she didn’t move to get away. Will’s mouth was on hers, devouring, tasting, probing. Her lips were unbelievably soft and tasted like blueberries and crisp white wine and desire. Marley twisted her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, hard.

They kissed like that for a while—minutes? Hours? Decades?—Will wasn’t sure. The one thing he was sure of is that he needed to touch a whole lot more of her soon.

He scooped his hands under her backside, lifting her as he stood. She stiffened in his arms for an instant, but latched her fingers behind his neck, holding on tight.

“Will, you can’t pick me up like you’re some sort of caveman,” she protested.

“A caveman would toss you onto the floor right now and have his way with you. This is my attempt at being a gentleman. Where’s your bedroom?”

Marley blinked, then shifted her weight in his arms. “That way.” She nodded down the hall, which wasn’t much direction, but it was a start.

Will turned and headed down the hall.

William
Barclay
the
Fifth
is
carrying
me
into
my
bedroom
to
do
naughty
things
to
me.

Marley didn’t say the words out loud, but she forced herself to articulate them clearly enough in her brain, gauging how her mind and body would react.

At the moment, her body was screaming, “
Hell
yeah!
” while her mind fretted over whether Will might blow out a knee halfway down the hall.

But Will’s knees seemed fine, and since neither Marley’s brain nor body seemed to be protesting, she tightened her hold around his neck. She pressed her lips against the stubble on his throat, testing his pulse with her tongue. He groaned and dug his fingers into her bare thighs.

“Left or right?” he asked.

“Left. Right. Wait, what?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Oh. Turn here. The one with the creepy-looking painting of the eggplant on the wall.”

“A handy landmark,” he said, but obeyed her direction as Marley licked her way across his throat, her breath hot on his flesh.

“Keep that up and I’m going to drop you,” he groaned.

“Take five steps to the bed,
then
drop me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and tossed her back onto the feather duvet. He landed on top of her, his lips seeking hers as his palm slid up the side of her body. His fingers were hot, possessive, and Marley whimpered with the pleasure of his touch.

“God, you feel good,” he murmured against her mouth.

“Mmm,” Marley said, the closest thing she could manage to “
you
too,
” as she toed off her shoes and wrapped her legs around his back. She gripped him with her thighs, enjoying the hard, hot length of his body pressed against hers.

He kissed his way along the column of her throat, and Marley almost forgot to worry whether her skin was salty from her bike ride. She pressed her sock-footed heels into the back of his legs, pulling him tighter against her, craving more of him still.

She slid her hands down his back and found the hem of his T-shirt. Tunneling her fingers beneath it, she savored the heat of his bare flesh, the strong ridges of his spine. Will kissed her behind one ear and Marley gasped, digging her nails into his shoulder blades.

“You appear to have some rather sensitive nerve endings there, Ms. Cartman,” he murmured, his breath warm on her earlobe. “How’s the other side?”

“Oh,” Marley gasped as Will moved to her left ear. As his lips found that perfect spot, Marley raised her hips and pressed her body tighter against him. She gasped, savoring the delicious weight of his body on hers, delirious from the heat and tingle of his touch.

Marley slid her hands further up his shirt, tracing his bare shoulder blades with her fingertips. His flesh was smooth and hot beneath the heels of her hands, and she pressed into him, feeling the hard coil of muscle. Will shifted slightly, angling his kisses down her shoulder, his lips soft and urgent and so damn good at what they were doing.

Marley wanted more.

“Take your shirt off,” she gasped.

Will laughed, his breath warm against her collarbone. “You first.”

He sat back on his heels, and Marley wriggled to a seated position, eager to rid herself of the T-shirt so she could touch him again. Will smiled, his mismatched eyes glinting in the faint glow of the hall light.

“I asked first,” she pointed out. “Shouldn’t I get the first striptease as a courtesy?”

“How do I know you’ll follow through on your end of the bargain?”

“Trust issues, much?”

“How about we do it on three?”

She must have looked startled, because Will laughed and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “I don’t mean
do
it
on three. I promise I have better foreplay skills than that. I just meant—”

Marley whipped her shirt over her head, cutting off whatever his next words would have been. She tossed it across the room and grinned.

“I’m an overachiever,” she said.

“Thank God,” Will replied, and tugged off his own shirt. “It really isn’t fair you’re still partly clothed above the waist. Let me help you with this.”

He reached for her bra clasp before Marley could decide whether she was ready to remove it. But once Will flicked the clasp with one hand, it felt so damn good to have her breasts bare that she forgot all about any hesitation. Will nudged the straps off her shoulders and Marley gasped as the cool air brushed her breasts.

They didn’t stay chilly for long.

“You taste so good,” Will murmured as his mouth found her left nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak.

“Don’t stop,” Marley hissed and buried her fingers in his hair.

“Wasn’t planning to,” Will murmured in reply, the vibration of his words exquisite on her flesh. Will devoured her with his tongue a while longer, then moved across her rib cage to the other breast.

“So soft,” he murmured.

“Will,” she hissed through clenched teeth. His hair was baby-fine between her fingers. She caught a faint whiff of sage and wondered what shampoo he used. Will trailed his tongue from one breast to the other, taking his time in the shallow valley between her breasts. When his tongue found her other nipple, Marley arched tightly against him and cried out.

“It seems easy to make you moan,” he murmured. “This bodes well for me.”

“Should I make it harder?”

“You already are.”

She pressed her palms against his bare back, letting her fingertips bump over his ribs, then back up the trail of his spine. She leaned up and kissed his bare shoulder, tasting his flesh with the tip of her tongue. Grazing him with her teeth, Marley pressed softly to feel the hardness of bone beneath his skin. Will moved from her breast back up to her throat as Marley drew back to study him in the dim light of the room.

“You have freckles,” she murmured, planting a trail of kisses across his breastbone. “Tons of them.”

“If you get bored with this, feel free to play connect-the-dots.”

“Don’t let me get bored,” she said. “I have a Sharpie in my pocket, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“We’d better get rid of your pockets then,” Will said, tucking his fingers into the waistband of her shorts.

He slid down her body, moving his mouth down to her naval. He dipped his tongue into it, then circled back up with a hot trail of kisses leading to her ribs. He started to move down again, gripping her waistband with both hands now. Marley raised her hips, inviting him to go ahead and disrobe her.

Will smiled and met her eyes. “This may be the wrong time to ask, but do you have any—”

“Condoms?”

“I was going to say Grey Poupon, but condoms would be handy, too.”

Marley nodded. “Medicine cabinet in the guest bath. Should I go grab one?”

“Allow me,” Will said, sliding off her. Marley’s flesh screamed in frustration, craving his touch again. “I’ll be fast.”

“Not the best thing to say before sex,” she called after him.

He laughed as she watched his bare back retreat, admiring the spray of freckles across his shoulders and the small tattoo of an hourglass between his shoulder blades. She’d have to ask him about that later. Much later. Right now, all she wanted was to kick off her shorts, dig her nails into Will’s back, and—

Ding-dong!

Marley frowned and looked at her watch. It was after nine on a Sunday night. What the hell?

Ding-dong!

“Marley?” Will called from the hallway. “You want me to get the door?”

Marley frowned and reached for her T-shirt, not bothering with the bra. At this hour, it wasn’t likely a salesman. Her dad wouldn’t knock. Maybe she’d left the hose on and a neighbor was stopping by to let her know?

“I’ll be right out,” Marley called, tugging the shirt over her head. “Would you mind glancing out the window to see who it is?”

She heard the shuffling of feet in the hallway and pictured Will peering through the etched glass panel to the right of the door. He was quiet for a moment, and Marley stopped rustling clothing and listened.

“Will?” she called. “Is it a salesman?”

“That depends. Do salesmen usually kneel on the welcome mat when they’re peddling rings?”

Marley leapt off the bed, her ankles tangling in her own discarded bra as she scrambled for the door with her gut clenched in a knot of dread.