Sultry in Stilettos (15 page)

She slipped her feet in the
ridiculously expensive Christian Louboutins of Jaya’s. Instantly,
she felt better. Ready to take on the world.
And the shoes were the perfect complement.
She prayed she didn’t trip or spill anything on
her dress.

Though, while she might have looked
like sex, she was in no mood to have any. After the debacle with
Beckett yesterday, she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to
go out with Carter tonight. That was until he showed up in her
office today and told her how much he was looking forward to the
evening.

Exhausted or not, she was going out
with Carter tonight. She needed the distraction and maybe Charles
was right after all. She’d always been a serial monogamist. Maybe
she gave a hard-core marriage vibe. Well she didn’t mean to. But
tonight was all about fun. She wouldn’t ruin it by thinking about
that lying asshole.

When the doorbell chimed,
she sucked in a deep breath. She liked Carter. He was nice,
attentive, and sexy. She just didn’t feel any chemistry. At least
not chemistry like with Beckett. "Stop it, Ree," she mumbled under
her breath.
You can’t have him. He's not
right for you anyway.
Carter, on the other
hand, was perfect on paper. "Time to see if you’re perfect in
person.”

When she swung the door open, Carter
stood there leaning against the doorjamb, holding a giant
sunflower. “Hello, beautiful.”

Of all the things she’d pegged Carter
as, she’d never pictured him as the traditional
bring-a-girl-flowers type. “Oh, wow, thank you. It’s beautiful.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And completely unexpected. Carter, don’t
tell me you’re a romantic.”

He grinned, and Ricca had the urge to
giggle. The smile gave him such a boyish quality—like he was meant
to be youthful and mischievous.

“Of course I’m a romantic. Do you want
me to come in while you get a vase or something?” The question was
innocuous, but his altar boy smile and hungry eyes warned her that
inviting him inside probably wasn’t a good idea.

“No need. I’ve got a vase of flowers
right here.” She tucked the sturdy stem into the vase occupied by
cheery flowers she’d picked up. She’d give the flower its own vase
when she got home.

“So what you’re saying is, I’ll have
to work a lot harder to get an invite inside?”

Ricca rolled her eyes. “A lot
harder.”

His chuckle was low and deep. “I have
to warn you, I’m up for a challenge.”

“Carter, you’re
incorrigible.”

“I know. It’s a gift.”

She eyed him.
"Who told you I like sunflowers?"

He smiled a warm smile.
"Who said anyone had to tell me. Maybe I just paid
attention."

She scrutinized him
through narrowed eyes. "Myra told you?" The Fantasies
administrative assistant was the only one who ever seemed to
remember Ricca's birthday, and she always made sure Ricca received
sunflowers.

He grinned. "Busted, but
it’s the thought that counts, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it is." An
errant thought slipped into her consciousness. Beckett remembered
her birthday too. And her favorite flowers. Even though he never
did a big office splash, he always got her a great present. Last
year it had been the most delicate bangles he'd found in Jamaica
when he was there for a Fantasies client.

Ricca shook her head and
forced herself to listen to the prattle coming out of Carter’s
mouth. Something about the restaurant.

"Are you ready?" As she
grabbed her purse and shawl, he led her out, telling some funny
anecdote about his last fantasy.

And the laughs didn’t stop there, as
he led her out of her apartment, he helped her down the stairs,
into his car, and opened her door. He was a gentleman mixed with a
little bit of a rake. But she completely saw the appeal.

As they pulled out of her complex and
turned onto Vermont St., her breath caught. On the corner of
Vermont and Robinson stood Beckett. All 6’5” of him. His sling was
gone, and he looked furious.

Ricca quickly whipped her head around
and focused on her date as he regaled her with stories of his
childhood. She would not think about Beckett. Would not think about
the way he’d humiliated her yesterday. And she certainly would not
think about the way he tasted or how his mouth felt on hers.
Instantly, her body melted, and she muttered a curse.

“Whoa, did Ricca Munroe just swear? I
thought you were Miss Prim and Proper.”

“I ah, just realized I
forgot to do something at the office. I’ll deal with it
tomorrow.”

“You want me to swing us
by there? It’s got to be pretty serious if it made you swear.
Besides, I’ve been having this fantasy lately of you and me in the
office and—”

“Carter!”

He grinned. “I was going
to say we were going over reports. What? Too forward?”

“Yeah, a little.” Despite
his teasing and sexual innuendo, Ricca realized she was already
enjoying herself. Carter was easy to talk to, educated,
interesting, and lively. Brooding wasn’t in his nature.

Then why were snippets of
her brain lingering on Beckett?
Because
you’re in love with him.

“Just in case I haven’t
mentioned, you’ve been looking amazing lately."

Ricca sputtered and barked
out a laugh. "You mean you like the new wardrobe over my usual
super-conservative look?"

“I—uh." He
stuttered.

She laughed again. "Relax.
I know the clothes left something to be desired. I needed an
upgrade.”

“I have to tell you it's
sexy."

She flushed at the
compliment.

The rest of the night was
fun. They talked sports, and he kept telling her how impressed he
was with her basketball knowledge. They’d argued over the merits of
Kobe vs. Lebron and if either of them could be as great as Jordan.
He made her laugh. It was easy. Nothing complicated. When he walked
her upstairs, she wasn’t even nervous like she normally would have
been.

When they reached her
door, he quickly drew her in for a kiss. Carter's kiss was
pleasant. Certainly skilled. There was enough heat behind it to
pique her interest—which confused her. But at the end of the day,
this kiss didn’t compare to Beckett’s yesterday.

Carter stepped back. “I
wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t done that at
least once.”

Wow.
He was good. If they gave grades on dating, then Carter Sykes
would certainly have an A plus. “Carter. I had fun tonight. I’m
just not sure—”

He put a hand up cutting
her off. “No, you don’t have to explain. I get that you and Beckett
have your thing or whatever. I respect that. Besides, I know better
than to pine after a woman who’s got the hots for someone
else.”

“Beckett and I don’t have
a thing.”

Carter chuckled. “You want
to tell him that? He about took my head off when I told him I was
going out with you.”

Ricca shook her head. “He
wouldn’t do that.”

Carter shrugged. “Okay. If
you say so. Do me a favor though.
If
it doesn’t work out, give me a
shout. I’ll be the first one in line behind him.”

“You know what, Carter? I
think you’re growing on me. I actually had fun tonight.”

He raised his brows.
“Growing on you? That’s progress. At least you don’t think I’m a
sleaze bag.”

“Oh, I didn’t say
that.”

He laughed. “Still, it’s
progress.” He kissed her hand. “I’ll see you in the office on
Monday.”

Ricca let herself in to
her apartment and tried to make sense of the date and Carter—and
his attempts to woo her. He was a very good kisser. But still, it
didn’t move her like the scorcher Beckett had planted on her last
night. All she'd been able to get out of Carter's kiss was
flickering embers. There was just no comparison. But she'd had more
fun than she thought possible. Maybe she'd never given Carter a
chance before. Since he started at Fantasies, she'd always written
him off as one of the jock gear heads who only cared about the cool
assignments, not the ones that involved any kind of emotional
satisfaction. Maybe, like Beckett, she'd been wrong about some
things.

Carter was intelligent and
funny, and when he wanted to be, really insightful. Maybe she’d
misjudged him. That knowledge smarted. But she could make changes.
If Jaya could embrace her adventurous side, then Ricca could
certainly give guys more than half a chance.

Beckett was already off
the table. For the love of God, he’d had a thing with Angel. And
he’d hidden it—deliberately. There was no getting over that. He’d
sat and listened to Ricca bitch about Angel for months. She wasn’t
a glutton for punishment.

But other guys? Maybe she
didn’t have the right chemistry with Carter. But there were plenty
of guys out there. She’d start doing the casual dating thing. Maybe
even have herself a fling. Maybe her whole life she’d been doing
the dating thing wrong. Maybe it was time to have some fun
instead.

Slipping the stilettos off
her feet, she rubbed each of her arches before heading to the
bedroom. A persistent knock stopped her mid-trip. Carter again? Had
he left something behind? "Just a sec, I'm coming."

Swinging the door open she
gasped in surprise. "Beckett, what are you doing here?"

He scowled at her. But
even anger didn't detract from his all American good looks. "You
went out with Carter?"

Ricca frowned. "I don’t
see how that’s any of your business."

"Of course it's my
business. He's on my team. If he's distracted, I have to deal with
it."

Ricca coughed out a laugh.
"Did you spend time rehearsing that one? You’re being ridiculous.
You mean to tell me you drove over to Hillcrest on a Saturday
night, when you know parking is a nightmare, to tell me I can’t
date Carter because he's going to be distracted?”

"Yes," he barked. Then
quickly amended, "No. I came to talk to you, then I saw you with
him. I thought we’d agreed you weren’t going to go out with
him."

Ricca balked. "Do you
realize what you sound like right now? Maybe instead of standing on
my doorstep yelling at me about who I am or am not dating, maybe
you should be standing on your girlfriend's doorstep. You can yell
at her all you like.
Beckett, I meant what
I said last night.” Ricca’s heart thudded. She tried for more
breath, but it only came in airy shallow draws. This wasn’t
happening. Beckett wasn’t standing here.

“And I meant what I said. Angel was a
mistake. I should have told you. Hell, I never should have gone
there.” He ran both hands through his hair. “I know—I didn’t expect
that—you know, we’d—shit.” Beckett used the heels of his hands to
rub at his eyes. “I don’t know. Just tell me you didn’t sleep with
him.”

Furious, Rica glared at him. “And what
if I did? You still haven’t told me why the hell it matters to
you.”

He took a step toward her, but she
held her ground. “No, you can’t just storm in here and fuck with me
like last night and like the other day in my office. I know you’re
just dicking with me, and I want it to stop. I can’t take
anymore.”

“Me?” The question came out
as a snarl. “You’re the one fucking with me. Why are
you
deliberately trying
to drive
me
crazy? The clothes, the hair, and the way you kissed me back
the other day. Shit, and last night. You were all over me, burning
so hot. Every time I touched you it was like you would combust like
no one ever made you feel like that before.” His voice rose an
octave. “What the fuck is
your
game?”

Ricca tipped her chin up, refusing to
move back. If he wanted to come into her house and start a fight,
then she was more than happy to have it out with him. Maybe they
could finally get it all out, once and for all. “Let’s start with
you lowering your voice. And then we’ll move on to maybe how you
should stop doing that half flirtation thing with me, where you
string me along and let me believe you’re interested. It’s
borderline cruel, and I’m sick of it. If you’re into me, why don’t
you just—”

Beckett cut her off by placing both
hands on her face and slanting a kiss over her lips that was not at
all slow and sensual like the night before. It was more like a
brand.

As if it were a practiced move, her
arms wound around his neck, and her fingers laced in the hair at
his nape. He shifted his hands from her face and wrapped them
around her, eventually placing them on her ass, and anchored her
body to his. His erection nudged her insistently, and her body
softened, readying for him.

With a growl, Beckett dragged off his
jacket and tossed it to the floor. Leaning over her, he scooped his
hands down the backs of her legs and picked her up, leaving her no
option than to wrap her legs around him.

Holding her firmly against him, he dug
a hand into her hair, his lips scorching, and his tongue insisting
on a response—demanding one. Electricity sizzled under every patch
of skin he touched. She clawed at his back and met his demand with
her own.