Her Man Friday (30 page)

No, actually, it would be more difficult than that, she had to concede. Because Leo was like Schuyler in that, although he would certainly see the need to hasten an ailing pet to the doctor, he
wouldn't
be able to understand why Lily wanted—needed…
had
—to do the things she did.

When she heard the soft snick of the door latch behind her, the small burst of confidence she'd felt downstairs only moments ago fled. The good news was that in doing so, it took her distressing thoughts with it. The bad news was that, in doing so, it left Lily with only her instincts to guide her. And her instincts, although they always strove to do the right thing, had often led her into trouble.

She spun around to face Leo, crossing her arms over her torso in what she feared he might misinterpret as a defensive act. Then she wondered if such a thing would be a misinterpretation at all. But all he did was stand as he had stood at the front door only moments ago, leaning back against the door with his hands behind him, gazing at her with a look of unmistakable, but uncertain, desire.

"This suddenly feels very contrived," she said, blurting out the first thought that jumped into her head.

He seemed surprised by her statement. "Why? To me, it feels like something that's been a long time in coming. Something that's way overdue."

She scrunched up her shoulders and then let them drop. "I don't know, I just…"

"What?"

But she honestly didn't know what to say, so Lily said nothing at all.

He strode forward, slowly covering the few steps that separated them, almost as if he were giving her an opportunity to bolt, should that be what she wanted to do. In spite of her misgivings, though, Lily found that bolting was the very last thing she wanted to do. So she stood firm as he approached her and draped his arms casually on her shoulders, in a way that was anything but suggestive. And somehow, that made her feel better.

"But there is something I need to know before we go any further," he said softly.

What little reassurance she had begun to feel evaporated. "What's that?"

For a moment, he said nothing, only gazed down at her face as if reluctant to put voice to whatever it was he wanted to know. Finally, however, he asked straight out, "You and Kimball—are you involved? Sexually, I mean?"

She expelled a breath she had been unaware of holding and smiled. "No," she said readily. "We're not."

"But you were once upon a time."

She wasn't sure how he knew that, and maybe she didn't want to know, but she replied honestly and without hesitation. "Schuyler was my first, Leo," she said. "When I was nineteen. It didn't take us long, though, to realize that we made much better friends than we did lovers. But I'm glad for that brief intimacy with him, because I think it made our friendship stronger. We've both seen each other at our most vulnerable, yet we've never preyed on each other's vulnerabilities. That short time as lovers cemented our trust in each other as friends. Does that make sense?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. In a way, I guess it does. I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the knowledge of the two of you… you know."

"Hey, you asked," she reminded him.

He nodded slowly. "And you answered." His tone of voice suggested he appreciated her doing so.

"Whatever Schuyler and I have, whatever we had back then," she said, "it's not like this thing with you. It was never like this thing with you."

"And just what, exactly, is this thing with me?"

She swallowed hard, reluctant to answer that question.

So Leo asked another one instead. "What is it you want, Lily?" he said softly. "Forget about what you think is right or wrong. Forget about what you think you should do. Forget about what you think is proper. What you should think about instead is what you
want
."

She did as he asked, and she wasn't much surprised by what she discovered. "I want… you," she said softly.

He smiled, urging his arms lower down her back, circling her waist, pulling her close. "Then take me," he said simply.

Well, if you insist…

But she said nothing, mainly because, at that point, no words seemed necessary. They were both adults, they were both unattached, and each was completely turned on by the other. There was no reason for Lily to deny him or herself what seemed to be the logical conclusion.

None.

Well, except maybe for the fact that she hadn't been entirely honest with him about something. A rather big something, too. But really, that and this had nothing in common, did they? What she was about to do with Leo had nothing to do with what she'd done where Schuyler was concerned. The two men were entirely separate, and her experiences—and duties—to each were completely unrelated. She could have this night, this time, this relationship, with Leo, and she could keep it apart from her activities where Schuyler and Kimball Technologies were concerned.

At least, she could for a little while. Until she was certain that things with Leo would work out. For now, she could be with him, and he'd never have to know what went on with Schuyler and the business. For now, she could lead both lives, and they'd never have to converge. For now, she could do this, she told herself. She could.

She could.

And then, when she was sure everything would work out between the two of them, she could tell Leo the truth. He would understand why she hadn't been completely truthful, she told herself. And he would forgive her. Because he would understand that she had done it out of a sense of duty and obligation. Surely a man like him would know all about something like that.

He dipped his head to hers then, and thankfully, every thought that was plaguing her scattered. Lifting her hands to his face, she cupped his jaws, relishing the warmth and roughness she encountered. She inhaled a deep breath and savored the scent of him, a mix of heat and musk and man. And then, as he covered her mouth with his, she tasted him. And he tasted… oh… So good.

"Leo," she murmured against his lips. The word came out sounding like a benediction, and he lowered his head again to receive his blessing.

Over and over, he brushed his lips against hers, each time exerting a little more pressure, each time claiming a little bit more of Lily for himself. She moved her hands to the back of his head, twining the short strands of his hair between her fingers, loving the way he felt in her hands, the way he responded to her touch. It had been so long since she had enjoyed any kind of intimacy with a man. So long since anyone had made her feel so feminine, so desirable, so cherished.

And then, as Leo opened his mouth wider, urging hers open, too, and tasted her more deeply, Lily realized that no one had ever made her feel like this before.

He released her waist and moved his hands lower, slowly urging them down over her hips and thighs, until he'd bunched two big fistfuls of her skirt in each. Then he moved his hands up again, back to her waist, pulling the fabric with him. Lily felt the cool air of his bedroom on the backs of her legs, and instinctively, to warm herself, she pushed her body into his. He moved one hand down again, fisting another handful of skirt, and brought it higher, too. Scooping the wealth of fabric under one arm, he dropped his hand yet again, this time palming her firm thigh over the cotton knit of her tights.

Damn. She knew she should have worn knee socks instead.

Leo didn't seem to share her concern however, because he expelled a soft sigh of satisfaction when he encountered the fabric. "God, I love a woman in tights," he said.

Somehow, she found the presence of mind to murmur, "Do you?"

"Mmm," he murmured back. "The only thing sexier than tights are those little cotton ankle socks. God, I love those, too."

"Come summer, I'll remember that," she said softly.

Immediately, she regretted the words, because they suggested that come summer, the two of them would still be engaged in this…
thing
… they were doing, and she worried that he would consider such an assumption presumptuous. She pulled back a bit, to see if she could gauge his reaction, but the expression on his face was one of complete, and delighted, anticipation.

"Come summer," he said, "I'll hold you to it."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the hand on her thigh began to creep upward, and anything she might have said dried up in her throat. And when the fingers of that hand crept in between her legs, strumming along her sensitive inner thigh, all she could manage was a very soft "Oh…" as she tilted her head to the side.

Leo took advantage of her position to nuzzle the curve where her neck joined her shoulder, rubbing his lips over the tender flesh before dragging a few open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. When he did, he also inched his hand further up her thigh, moving his fingers into the heated juncture for a brief caress before continuing on to palm the firm globe of her bottom.

Lily nearly lost her footing at that single, swift touch, but Leo tightened his hold on her, pulling her up more intimately against himself. When he did, she felt the press of his erection along her belly, and she almost fainted again. My, but he was a healthy man, she thought. Not that she'd had a lot of lovers to compare him to, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that he was quite… progressive… in his… thinking.

Impatient to do a little touching of her own, Lily dropped her own hands to his waist and thrust them without ceremony up under his sweater. Beneath her fingertips, she felt heat and ridges and soft springy hair, and she couldn't stop herself from skimming her open hands up and down and around his entire torso. The hungry touches seemed to spur Leo into action—not that he hadn't been acting already—because suddenly, his own caresses grew far more demanding.

The hand cupping her bottom moved upward, to the waistband of her tights, then dipped easily inside to immediately reclaim its place against her bare skin. In doing so, he pushed his fingers into the sensitive cleft, nudging one in particular more intimately against her. Again, Lily felt her legs go weak beneath her, so she pushed her hands higher, to his bare shoulders, in an effort to keep herself standing. When she did, the fabric of his sweater rose, too, exposing for her eyes what her hands had already discovered.

He was, in a word, glorious. All bump and sinew and satin. Helplessly, she nuzzled him, running her lips over one round, flat nipple, before laving it with the flat of her tongue and tugging it into her mouth for a taste. When she did, the hands holding her body clenched tighter, pushing her forward, so she tasted him again. And again. And again.

Gradually, she registered the fact that he'd released her skirt and was moving his other hand upward, but it wasn't until he was palming her breast with much possession that Lily moved her body so that she could more easily accommodate him. When she did, she moved her own hand lower, to the hard ridge beneath his trousers that attested to the depth of his desire. Flattening her hand, she rubbed her palm against him, hard, because she sensed somehow that that was the way he would like it. Again and again she moved her hand over him, feeling him ripen with every stroke. She was about to unfasten his trousers so that she could take him completely in her hand, when he suddenly—and completely—released her.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she stumbled away.

He caught her easily before she could fall, but didn't pull her back up against himself, as she had hoped he would.

"I need for you to be naked," he said succinctly, his eyes blazing, his breathing ragged. "Right now. I need for you to take your clothes off for me, Lily, because there's a lot more I want to do to you before we actually…" His voice trailed off, and he licked his lips. "Take your clothes off."

She told herself she should be offended by the command in his tone, but instead she only became more aroused. He wasn't demanding because he wanted to be in control, she realized. He was demanding because he really, really,
really
needed for her to be naked. Right now.

So, without hesitation, she crossed her arms over herself and gripped the hem of her sweater, tugging it up and over her head and releasing it in one swift, fluid move. She tugged first one boot, and then the other, from her feet, disposing of them near her discarded sweater. Then she hooked each thumb simultaneously in the waistband of her skirt and tights and pushed both to the floor.

And all the while, Leo stood there watching every move she made, without comment, without movement, but with quite a bit of interest. Then she stood before him clad in only a wisp of pale peach bra and panties. Meeting his gaze levelly with hers, tossing the long strands of her hair over one shoulder, she reached behind herself to unhook the bra, then let it tumble unheeded to the floor. His eyes widened at the sight of her bare breasts, but still he neither moved, nor spoke. So Lily tugged her panties off, as well, tossing them, like everything else, away without a care.

There was something unbelievably erotic about being completely naked with a fully dressed man, she thought. She would have sworn she would feel vulnerable and defensive and uncomfortable in such a situation, but something about standing so flagrantly in front of Leo made her feel powerful instead. For a moment, he only gazed at her, as if he'd never seen a naked woman before. And although Lily knew a man like him would have seen more than a few women naked, she could almost believe that she was the most important one of the bunch.

He began to stride slowly toward her then, and she suddenly felt less confident. He stopped when only a few scant inches separated them, and without a word, lifted his hand to fully cover her breast. Just like that, he claimed her, and just like that, Lily knew there would never be anyone else. His other hand easily covered her other breast, and he squeezed both gently before moving his hands behind her, through and beneath her hair, then down her back and over her bottom again.

Then he pulled her close, into the cradle of his thighs and said, "Now take my clothes off."

She wasn't sure she could manage such a thing, but she gripped the hem of his sweater and pushed it higher, until the placement of his arms hindered her progress. "I'm going to need a little help," she said, smiling.