Smirking, I got out a couple of plates and silverware for the two of us. “Guess who I ran into today?”
“Who?”
“Johnny.”
She dropped half a dozen zucchini pieces onto the floor. “Johnny?”
“Yep. He misses you.”
“He does?” The disbelief in her voice made me grin harder.
I nodded. “Bad.”
“Philomena Donovan.” She glared. “It’s not nice to tease people.”
“God, you sound like Mom.” I crossed my eyes at her as I reached around her to get napkins. “And I’m not teasing. Johnny’s in a bad way for you.”
She gaped at me.
“Yeah, I know.” I shook my head in wonder. “I don’t understand it either.”
I waited for her to say something more, but she just stood woodenly at the stove and stirred the food. I sat down at the table and kept an eye on her, afraid she’d set something on fire in her trance-like state.
She brought the pan to the table and dished food onto both our plates. I was surprised it smelled so fantastic. Not that I’d admit that to her. Besides, it was probably because I was starving.
I dug in. It tasted as great as it smelled. I don’t know why I was surprised—what
didn’t
Daphne excel at?
As I shoveled more food into my mouth, I realized she wasn’t eating. She sat there staring at her plate.
My first thought was she poisoned the food to get rid of me (I don’t think she was ever thrilled to have a younger sister), but I decided against it. If she wanted to off me, she’d come up with something more scientifically interesting, like blowing my atoms apart or something. “Something wrong?”
She looked up with a puzzled frown wrinkling her forehead. “I don’t know what to do.”
I waited for her to expound, but she didn’t so I had to ask. “About?”
“Johnny.”
“Call him.” Can we say duh? “Invite him to your party.”
“But—” She frowned at her plate.
“But what? Just tell him you want to be his love slave and let nature take its course.” It wasn’t rocket science.
Actually, what Rio did to me last night had to have required advanced education. I grinned. I’d have to ask to see his credentials.
“I don’t have his phone number,” she said plaintively, pushing her food around.
I speared a mushroom with my fork. “No biggie. I told him I’d give it to you.”
The way she stared at me made me uncomfortable. It was as if she didn’t know what to say, like she was stunned I’d do something like that for her.
I fidgeted in my seat. I didn’t know why it was so unexpected. I wasn’t completely a sucky sister. I cared.
I did. Really.
“Do you know where my cell phone is?” I asked after we finished dinner.
“On the coffee table. Next to that magazine with the red cover.”
Of course Daphne would know exactly where it was. Good thing for me—it saved me the half-hour it would have taken me to find it.
I flipped it open and searched my call logs. Aha. Phone still open, I went back into the kitchen and handed it to my sister.
“What’s this for?” she asked with a frown.
“Johnny’s number. Call him while I take a bath.”
She gripped my arm as I turned to go. “Thank you.”
“I told you, it’s no biggie.” Wrinkling my nose, I shrugged off her hold. You’d think I saved her kitten or something. I escaped into the bathroom right as I heard her tentatively greet Johnny.
“Made his day,” I murmured as I ran the water and tossed a handful of lavender salts in. By the time I stripped, it was half-full so I got in.
Yeah, I was eager for a bath. I’d wanted one all day—I was sore all over, not only from my Kung Fu workout but from the one Rio gave me too (grin). And I needed some time to think things through now that I didn’t have that cloud of lust hanging over me.
Okay, I admit, maybe I still had a miasma of lust clouding my mind. I couldn’t be blamed. Rio would have that effect on even the most shriveled-up virgin.
“You know,” I told myself, “forget thinking. There’s nothing to figure out.” I was in love with Rio and he loved me. If my parents didn’t like him—almost guaranteed to be the case—well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d let them down.
It would have been so great to have them dote on me just for the one day though.
I sighed.
But I needed to keep my eye on the ball. I knew in the end being with Rio was the best thing for me.
“Don’t you think, Mac?” I leaned back and rested my head on the rim of the tub to look up at the MacGyver poster overhead.
Only he was gone.
I gasped. Someone kidnapped MacGyver out of my bathroom.
Daphne
.
“Daphne!” I debated staying in the bath—I’d just gotten in, after all—but I didn’t think I could enjoy it knowing she took down
another
MacGyver poster. After I made it clear what I thought about that.
Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as I surged out. I yanked the door open and, at the last minute, decided to grab a towel, though at this point I don’t know why I cared about my treacherous sister’s sensibilities. “Daphne!”
I strode into the living room. She was curled on the couch, phone to her ear, casual as could be. Like she wasn’t a MacGyver assassin.
She blinked at me. “You’re dripping on the rug.”
“To hell with the rug. Where is it?”
“Don’t swear.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Johnny, could I call you back? Mena’s having an episode.” She smiled at something he said. “She
is
a little high-strung.”
I stamped my foot. “I am not high-strung. I was fine until you started messing with my most prized possessions.”
“Thank you. Goodbye.” She closed the phone and faced me, one eyebrow cocked. “What was so important it couldn’t wait until my conversation was finished?”
“MacGyver,” I shrieked, waving my arms.
She crossed her arms. “You know, this obsession you have with a fictional character really isn’t healthy.”
Teeth clenched, I said, “The poster in the bathroom. Where. Is. It.”
“I took it down.” At my growl, her chin jutted. “The mold growing on it was unsanitary.”
I’d show her unsanitary. Hands outstretched, I advanced on her.
Her eyes widened and she gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She huddled closer to the arm of the couch. “You’d have to explain it to Mom and Dad.”
I froze midstep. She was right. Damn.
With another growl, I turned on my heel, marched to my room, and slammed the door. Real adult, I know.
“Just a few days,” I muttered to myself. Just a few more days and Daphne would be out of my hair. And the next time she asked to stay with me, I’d say it was already occupied, even if I had to find a homeless person to move into the spare room.
I pulled on my robe and was pacing my room when Daphne knocked softly on the door. “Mena, there’s a call for you.”
I was about to tell her what she could do with the call when she said, “It’s someone named Rio.” I threw open the door and snatched the phone out of her hand. “Hello?”
“Phil.”
The one syllable turned my insides to mush. A warm glow replaced the tension I’d been feeling.
“You’re welcome,” Daphne said, firmly closing the door behind her.
I stuck my tongue out at her and then turned my attention completely to Rio. “Hey.”
“I missed you all day.”
God, his voice was sexy. Caused tingles all over. “Me too. Missed you, that is.”
“What are you doing now?”
I grinned. “What do you have in mind?”
“I could come over.”
“My sister’s here.” Somehow I felt funny about bringing a guy to my room with her staying here. Which was wrong since it was my home and I should have been able to do anything I wanted in it. “You’re so lucky you’re an only child.”
He chuckled. “I always thought it’d be nice to have a sibling.”
“Not one like Daphne.”
“She seems nice. Though I don’t know much about her except that she likes Sexual Trances and does a mean striptease.”
I pursed my lips. “You think she does a mean striptease?”
“I’m not an expert on stripteases—”
“I’m sure you’re not,” I said dryly.
“—but hers seemed adequate.” There was a tinge of humor coloring his words. “Of course, I’d be much more interested in seeing you perform.”
My lips quirked. “Would you?”
“Definitely.” Pause. “I have a boombox and some music if you’re interested ...”
I grinned. “Are you a good tipper?”
“Baby, I can guarantee you won’t complain.”
Shiver. “Well then, get the music ready. I’ll be right over.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lessons Learned from MacGyver
#56
Imagination is the most important thing the human mind
has.
If Rio wanted a striptease, a striptease he was going to get. À la Philomena Donovan, which meant I had to gather a few things before I headed over to his warehouse.
He was waiting for me downstairs by the elevator, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, when I arrived. He wore a soft-looking T-shirt, jeans that sat low (real low) on his hips, and no shoes. Who knew bare feet could be sexy?
He watched me with his hawk-like gaze, not moving a muscle as I approached. “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”
“No.” Like I was idiot enough to change my mind. I stopped right in front of him. “I had to decide which outfit to wear.”
He did a slow perusal of my body and then fingered the lapel of my robe. “You didn’t find anything?”
I grinned as provocatively as I could. The robe was tactical; what was underneath was going to make his eyes explode. “Oh, I found something. I think you’ll like it.”
“I like this robe.” His finger slipped inside the collar. I got goosebumps as the back of his finger brushed my skin. “It’s soft.”
I pushed his hand aside and sauntered into the elevator, extra swing in my hips. I turned around, leaned against the back wall, and crooked a finger at him. “You’re wasting time.”
He stepped in, closed the doors, and came at me, his weight low like a predator’s. My heart drummed rapidly but I didn’t back down. He put his hands on either side of my head and leaned his body into mine. “What’s in the little bag?”
I glanced down at the bag I carried. “You’ll see.”
“I’d like to see now.”
Catching the double entendre, I grinned and slid my hand down between our bodies to cup him. “Impressive.”
He dropped his head and nibbled his way up the column of my neck. “Maybe we should skip the striptease.”
“Oh, this isn’t something you want to skip.” I ducked under his arms to operate the elevator controls. Surprisingly, he stayed where he was, gazing at me with a combination of amused tolerance and desire.
I grinned. I loved power.
When we got to his loft, I rolled the doors open and walked into his living room. I didn’t have to look to know he followed; I could practically feel the heat of him moving toward me.
Setting down the bag, I looked around for a chair suitable for the striptease. I decided to use one from his dining room set because it had a slat in the back. I picked it up and set it in the middle of the living room. “Sit there,” I instructed Rio, refastening my robe.
He lifted an eyebrow. “The couch would be more comfortable.”
“You’ll be comfortable.” Deliciously evil grin. “I promise.”
“Why does that worry me?”
“Where’s the music?”
“I’ll turn it on.” He went to a low end table that had a monster remote on it and pressed a button. Suddenly there was soft music surrounding us.
“You have the place wired with hidden speakers?” I asked, unable to repress the techie in me.
“In the walls.”
“What kind?”
“Homemade. A friend of mine tinkers with sound systems. He set me up.”
“They sound great. Maybe I can talk to your friend sometime.”
“You need speakers?” he asked, sitting in the appointed chair.
I set my bag down on the table and rummaged through it. “Matt’s been looking for speakers. He’s picky about sound quality though.”
“I’d like to meet Matt.”
I glanced up, frowning. “Why?”
He smiled. “He’s your best friend. I thought women always wanted to introduce their new boyfriend to their best friend. Isn’t it some kind of ritual we men have to go through to prove our worthiness?”
I pictured Matt and Rio meeting.
Yikes. I grimaced internally.
“Well?” he persisted.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I answered evasively. I pulled out the handcuffs I’d been looking for and hid them in the pocket of my robe.
“You don’t think he’ll like me?”
I tried to remember the last guy I dated that Matt liked. Nope. There’d never been one. But I ducked my head and said, “How could he not like you?”
Silence. I snuck a glance at Rio. He didn’t look like he bought that last statement. I really needed to work on my acting skills. I wondered if that was something I would have learned if I stayed in college.
I was going to change the subject but he beat me to it. “Is the music okay?”
Oh yeah—the music. I tuned in to it. “Alicia Keys?”
He nodded.
“It’s great.” It had the perfect rhythm to grind my hips to. I just needed to get back into the groove of the striptease. Mentioning Matt threw me off.
But I knew what would get me back in the mood really quickly. “Take your shirt off.”
He cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t question my command. He pulled it over his head and casually tossed it onto the nearby couch. “Anything else?”
I glanced down at his jeans and wondered if I should have him undo the fly. No, I wanted to do that myself. I shook my head as I advanced on him. “You’re exactly how I want you.”
Almost true, but he didn’t need to know what I had in store for him.
I checked out his chest completely. Every other time I’d seen it I was too close to him to really get a good look. From a couple of feet away I had the perfect vantage point. But in reality, it looked just as good as I remembered it.
I pointed at his pecs. “How do you get such definition?”
“Working out and clean living.”
I smirked. He wouldn’t be living too clean tonight.
“You have that look in your eye.”
I pursed my lips. “What look?”
“The one that says you’re up to no good.”
I took a couple of steps so I stood between his legs. He spread them so I could move in closer. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, my fingers trailing down his arm to his hand. “You don’t really want me to be good, do you?”
He grinned. “Either way I think I’ll be just fine.”
“Damn right.” I quickly pulled the handcuffs out of my pocket, pushed his hand behind the chair, and snapped it on his wrist.
Rio jerked but before it occurred to him what was going on, I passed the other end of the cuffs through the chair and clasped his left wrist too.
I straightened and grinned at the perplexed expression on his face. “What’s the matter?”
He tugged on the handcuffs as it they’d give. As if I’d have cheap handcuffs. These babies were regulation. I’d bought them online from a superspy store a while back when I had an intense curiosity about, well, let’s just say about uncharted seas. And tonight that’s exactly where I was setting sail.
“Phil, I don’t know about this.” He tried to scoot free.
I pushed him back in the chair with a hand on his chest. “Do you trust me?”
He stopped moving and stared into my eyes. “Yeah,” he said without hesitation.
Oh, that was nice. I smiled, open and bright. “Good.”
He yanked on the hardware. “But I don’t like this.”
“You will,” I promised. I grabbed the remote from where he’d tossed it on the couch and turned the volume up a notch. Then, my gaze on his, I slowly undid the sash on my robe. Holding it closed, I waited for the right beat and then let it pool on the floor at my feet.
He inhaled sharply.
That’s right. I ran a hand down my torso and grinned knowingly. “You like?”
“It’s not bad.” But the huskiness in his voice was admission enough.
I tried not to gloat. I knew I looked good; I’d picked my outfit especially. But hearing it in his voice was like a shot of Stoli to the bloodstream. Maybe two shots.
“Do you have more underwear like that?” His eyes caressed their way down my body.
I shrugged casually. “Maybe.”
Actually, it was the only real lingerie set I’d ever bought. I didn’t wear cotton briefs like Daphne, but I didn’t go all out like I did tonight with garters and stockings and everything.
It was damn expensive too. I’d read about the launch of Agent Provocateur’s online store and I went to check it out. I’d never heard of them before, but I immediately found this set and I couldn’t resist. The black merrywidow made it look like I had boobs and the stockings made my legs look long and sleek. I wore the high heels because I figured guys really liked them. Didn’t they all have fantasies about having sex with a woman who wore nothing but high-heeled black fuck-me shoes?
He cleared his throat. “When does the striptease start?”
“Eager, are we?” I gave him a coy smile and started shimmying to the music. I caught the beat and began to really strut my stuff.
I swiveled my hips around in a belly-dancing type of move (thank God for Shakira videos) turning a circle until my back faced him and he had a clear view of my butt undulating. I ground my hips a little more, my arms in the air. Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I asked, “How’re you doing there?”
He swallowed and nodded, but didn’t say anything.
I ducked my head to hide my grin. Perfect.
Lowering my arms to circle around my head, I swiveled around and did a Beyoncé move right up to his legs. With a surreptitious glance, I checked out his package.
Yep. I had to stifle my gleeful giggle. Totally engorged, um, I mean, engaged.
His legs opened again, slowly as if he had no control over them. I ignored the invitation and danced where I was, dangerously close yet so far away.
Rio cleared his throat again. “When does the stripping start?”
“Anxious?” I looked pointedly at his fly. “Or worried?”
“You know, payback’s a bitch.”
I knew my smile had to be über-cocky. “As Pat Benatar said, hit me with your best shot.”
I think he growled, but I couldn’t be sure because the music spiked for a moment.
Because I wanted him completely frenzied, I shrugged my shoulder in such a way that the strap of my merrywidow fell. Then I did the same with the other side.
This time he did growl. He jerked his arms forward, like he wanted to grab me, but the handcuffs brought him up short.
With an outstretched arm, I pushed him back into his seat and straddled his hips. His head strained forward, and because I still had clothes on (if you could call the scanty underwear clothes), I let him nuzzle his way down my chest. I should have known better though, because he unerringly latched onto my nipple through the lace.
I pushed him back again. “This is a lap dance. I can touch. You can’t.”
The way he looked at me, like I was toying with a jungle cat who was a second away from mauling me, almost made me reconsider. Almost. Worst-case scenario, his revenge would drive me insane. How could I mind that?
Rio respected my rules though. He sat back, his eyes feral, and let me continue.
“Good boy,” I said because I like to live on the wild side. Then I ground my hips over him like there was no tomorrow. Every now and then, I’d bump his hard-on. I could feel its twitching through the jeans.
The problem with the striptease (or just tease, because I hadn’t begun to strip yet) was that as much as I was torturing Rio, I was torturing myself as well. I felt creamy and hot and swollen to the point where I just wanted to settle on him and drive us both to oblivion.
He read it in my face too. His lids were half-lowered, making his grin look that much more lazy and sinister. “Backfiring, isn’t it?”
In response I reached behind me, undid the tight little row of hooks on my merrywidow, and deliberately let it fall to the floor. The song ended, and the sudden silence before the next song started punctuated the unveiling.
“That was well timed,” he said, straining forward to touch my breasts.
“I meant it to be.” Complete lie, but he didn’t need to know that. I leaned back a little and began to gyrate again. “You don’t really think I’d let you have them that easily, do you?”
He shot me a sheepish grin. “Had to try.”
Men. But there was part of me that liked that he wouldn’t give up trying to get at me. It made me want to show him what he was trying to get.
So I stood up, shimmied till my back was to him, and eased the lacy thong down my thighs. With another wiggle, it slid the rest of the way to the floor. I kicked it off my feet and looked over my shoulder to make sure Rio was still paying attention.
Attention—ha! He was practically drooling, his eyes glued on my butt. So I shook my ass some more before I turned around and gave him something to really goggle at.