Her Sexiest Surprise

“This is Idle,” he told her.

“Nice to meet you.” She patted the dog, who was remarkably ugly but had the warmest eyes. “He’s sweet.”

“He’s usually shy with strangers, but he’s taken with you. So am I.” He leaned over the dog to kiss her.

Her lust surged again, telling her she wanted more from this man, this night, though she wasn’t sure how much.

He helped her to her feet, holding both her hands, then led her to the sofa. “Would you like coffee to clear your head?”

“My head is clear. Or reasonably clear.” She laughed, still a little uncertain how she’d gotten here. “I only had a little champagne really.”

“A beer then?”

She stayed away from alcohol as a rule. She’d tested herself in high school to be certain she didn’t have her father’s disease, deliberately getting drunk to see if a craving commenced. She’d thrown up lemon Schnapps until she could hardly crawl. Even now, the smell of lemonade gave her a twinge.

“How about juice?”

“I’ve got orange.” He headed to the kitchen to get their drinks. His dog followed him with his eyes, then stayed put. She patted him, trying to slow her thrumming pulse. What would happen? Would they just make out? Or do more? Have sex? Could she see herself going that far?

She shivered and looked around. This was a guy’s place. No real decorating, generic furniture, though the brown leather sofa was remarkably comfortable. The cream walls held art posters—a race car, a beach scene, a sepia print of a black jazz band. Shelves had books, DVDs, CDs and video games for the consoles that shared space with a fancy stereo and a plasma TV in the entertainment center. The cocktail table had car magazines and Popular Mechanics. But it was neat, as he’d said.

Riley brought the drinks in plastic tumblers and sat close beside her, handing her hers.

She sipped, then smiled, nervous again. “Your dog is so friendly. Nothing like my cat. She’s feral. I named her Pepper Spray because if you get near she hisses and spits. Mostly she hides. I only know she’s around by the shredded curtains and the empty food bowl.”

“How did you end up with her?”

“She’s a rescued cat. My friend has a shelter and couldn’t find a home for her.”

“So you took her?”

“Yeah. Every few nights, she tears around the house like she wants to escape. I don’t know what it takes to convince her she’s safe.”

“Maybe find a farm that needs a mouser and get yourself a friendlier one.”

“She’s family.” She shrugged. “I love her.”

He studied her, as if puzzled by that admission. “So, I didn’t count. How many candles were there?”

“Twenty-five. I can’t believe I’m that old.”

“That’s not old. Try thirty-two.”

“Wow, old.” She laughed. “Just kidding. I guess I feel like I’ve been waiting for my life to start.”

“Why is that?” He leaned back, ready to listen. He was easy to talk to. Maybe it was the kissing or her long-held crush, but she felt as if they’d sped through the usual getting-to-know-you steps and landed in more intimate territory.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Family obligations. I have a younger sister who’s struggled, and my father has had problems.”

“So you helped them out?”

“Yes. I was happy to do it, but the years slipped by and I’m twenty-five and it’s time for something new. Something less cautious, careful…”

“And boring?” He grinned.

“Exactly. That’s why I kissed you. The old Chloe wouldn’t have had the nerve. The new Chloe goes for what she wants.”

“Nice to meet you, New Chloe.” He tapped his glass against hers. “You can call me Lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Lucky I left my cell phone at Enzo’s.”

“Okay. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lucky.”

He looked her over, slow and easy. Every place his gaze touched came alive to him. He set down his glass and kissed her—softly, not pushy, asking her if she wanted more. Her heart raced and everything in her rose to meet him. She felt freer than she’d ever felt in her life. The Sylvestris had made her dream of cooking school possible, so why couldn’t she have more?

She wanted more. She wanted this. She wanted it all. The new Chloe was going to kiss this man until she was done with him. Kiss him and then some.

Her mouth on his, she leaned against him until he was lying on the sofa and she was on top of him, the hard length of him beneath her. When she slid against him, he groaned and his eyes lit with fire. He grabbed her backside to stop her movements. “This could get hot fast, Chloe.”

“Exactly what I had in mind,” she said, thrilled by her boldness.

“You sure this is what you want?” he asked.

“This is my birthday. And this is my wish,” she said. It was the real wish, the one beneath her desire to talk to the man. She wanted to feel her own power in her own life, she wanted passion, she wanted fire. “Please take me to bed.” The words surprised her, but rang with truth. The new Chloe was ready to fly.

SWEEPING A TREMBLING Chloe into his arms, Riley bent for another taste of her sweet mouth before starting to his room. Talk about lucky. As usual, he’d gone to Enzo’s to track the action. Two hours and a birthday wish later, he was carrying the hot hostess he’d fantasized about to his bed.

Even luckier, because of the clump of Idle fur on the pillowcase, Riley had changed his sheets yesterday. Did he still have condoms in his nightstand? Was he that lucky?

Idle whined from behind them. The warning made Riley stop. “You’re sure you’re sure?” he asked her.

“Absolutely,” she said, her eyes clear and smart. She wasn’t drunk, just high on her decision. She’d cast him as the star in her birthday play, so he couldn’t disappoint her.

Bullshit. He’d watched her for months, imagining her naked, her soft mouth on his, her husky voice saying his name.

Now that he’d kissed her, seen the need in those hot green eyes of hers, well, how could he pass that up?

It was lust and something more. She was so sweet and eager and new. She tugged at him, reminding him of a softer time in his life.

“Did you forget where your bed is?” she asked, wagging her legs to get him moving. “Or did you change your mind?”

“No way.” It had been a long time since he’d wanted anything this much. He’d forgotten this whirlpool of wet heat and need. Or maybe he was different with her, too.

Was it immoral? Unethical? Against regs? At the moment, with her clinging to him, kissing him while he stumbled down the hall, he didn’t give a damn. Blind with lust, he ripped down his spread, aimed them at the mattress and landed them on their sides.

Chloe’s lips never left his, even as she kicked off her shoes and he ditched his own. Her tongue moved restlessly inside his mouth and she caught quick breaths, as though if she stopped, she’d lose her nerve. She smelled like sugar and oranges and something else—a season…spring—and warm rain.