Flavor of the Month

She cleared her throat, wishing she could disappear as easily as the world had behind the blindfold. “Sorry.”

“You’re determined to ruin this seduction scene, aren’t you?” he whispered, making her shiver all over again.

“Is this, um, what this is? And here I thought it was just dinner.”

His abrupt chuckle told her he could still be surprised. “It will be if you don’t shut up.”

He put another forkful of food into her mouth when she might have said something. She ignored his earlier rebuke about talking with her mouth full and said, “You and my mother will have to have a talk. Because she wasn’t very good at getting me to be quiet, either.”

She felt fingers against her knee and nearly hit her head on the kitchen ceiling.

Had she thought, oh boy? Yes, she had. But this definitely deserved a more panicked one.

Reilly had never been very good with seduction. Neither as the seduced nor the seductress. She’d quickly found out she was too high-strung for that. While she was patient with nearly every other aspect of her life, when it came to sex she liked it fast and hard and spontaneous. Something that didn’t require her to think. Or didn’t call for her to sit still without squirming for an extended period of time.

“Tell me what you’re tasting, Reilly,” Ben said.

She realized that she hadn’t registered that bite. “I don’t know. All I can think about is your hand on my knee.”

He moved to her other ear. “Then tell me how you’re feeling.”

Like I want you to remove your hand. “Like I want to jump out of my skin.”

Another quiet chuckle. “Not quite the imagery I was after.”

Of course it wouldn’t be. He was probably thinking more along the lines of hot ovens and temperature probes. But all she could think about was how…awkward she felt having one of L.A.’s hottest men trying to seduce her.

She whispered, “Sorry. That’s all I’ve got to give.”

His fingers budged up the inside of her leg.

Oh, God.

“How do you feel now?”

Like ripping off this blindfold and having my way with you on my kitchen island…

The thought caught Reilly so far off guard that she gripped the sides of the stool to keep from falling off. Was she, inexperienced Reilly Chudowski, really considering taking Ben Kane up on his offer for hot sex?

Yes, she realized, she was.

And as he inched his hand farther up her inner thigh, the desire inched up along with it. Oh, yes. She liked that. She liked that very much. She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt then pulled his mouth down to hers, deciding that his idea of skipping straight to dessert was a pretty good one after all.

4

BEN WOULDN’T BE a man if he hadn’t wanted to ratchet things up a notch, but he was wholly unprepared for Reilly’s move.

He’d guessed she hid some pretty impressive muscles under all those clothes. As she yanked him against her, his guess proved right on target. And he was helpless to do anything but give her what she wanted as he claimed her mouth, the blindfold still tied tightly over her eyes.

Good God, but she had an incredible mouth. She also knew how to kiss. Not in a practiced way, but in a hungry, uninhibited way that left Ben speechless and motionless, accepting her attentions as she nipped and bit, sucked and licked.

His hand still rested between her thighs. He slid it the little bit needed to meet home plate, taking pleasure in her soft moan as she entwined her fingers in his hair.

As a rule, he didn’t like when women messed with his hair. Hey, it took a long time to get it to look like this. But Reilly made the move natural. Made him feel that if she hadn’t thrust her hands into his hair, things wouldn’t have been right.

She scooted on the stool until her knees were on either side of his hips then gave another yank, nearly knocking him off balance and herself off the stool. When the world stopped spinning briefly, he found himself tightly cradled between her thighs, her corduroy-covered sex pressed insistently against the hardness under his slacks.

It hadn’t been all that long ago since he’d been with a woman, although this moment with Reilly made it seem like years. Decades, even. The need that suffused his body and heated his blood made him feel ridiculously like a teen getting his first taste of sex. And, damn it if he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. Of Reilly. Of the burning in his groin, the tautness of his muscles, the anticipation of the moment he could bury himself deep inside her.

He realized he hadn’t moved his hands from where he’d placed them on her back and immediately remedied the situation, diving for her plump backside and the waist of her pants. He hurriedly undid the knot on her apron then slid his fingers inside the back of her waistband, finally reaching sweet, silken flesh. Meanwhile she fussed and pulled and yanked until his shirt hung out of the front of his slacks and her palms flattened against his abdomen.

Sweet Jesus, but she felt good. Tasted good. Damn good. And he was so hot for her it was impossible to believe that she hadn’t been in his life before today. Before now.

He plucked the apron from her and let it drop to the floor then popped the button on her cords and pulled on the material so the zipper skimmed down by itself. He leaned back slightly to take in the skin he’d revealed, only to see what seemed like a yard of pink cotton topped by a frayed elastic band.

“Wow,” he said, not readily recalling having seen underwear that huge since he and his middle school friends had raided a slumber party and gotten into Big Bertha’s drawers.

He’d worn the mammoth underwear on his head.

He was thirteen and hadn’t known better.

But now…

“Oh…my…God.” Reilly seemed to catch on to what he was looking at as she grabbed for her blindfold and peeled it away from one eye to stare at him. “I can’t believe…”

She tore the blindfold off then jumped from the stool and began doing up her cords. When she faced him again, she had her apron bunched up in front of her pants and her T-shirt had been pulled down so far he suspected it was permanently damaged.

He grinned at her. “I assume we’ve finished dessert?”

Reilly ran her hand through her hair several times, her gaze flying everywhere but to his face. “You assume correctly.” She briefly squeezed her eyes shut. “I should have listened to my mother.”

“Pardon me?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Ben knew an acute moment of regret that they hadn’t been able to finish what they’d started. Then again, there was always tomorrow….

A HALF AN HOUR LATER Reilly paced the entire length of her apartment above the shop, alternately smacking the heel of her hand against her forehead and cursing herself in imaginative ways.

“You silly, stupid, unthinking…moron,” she muttered, wearing down the matting of her inherited area rugs even further.

What had she been thinking, giving in to her desire to kiss the oh-so-kissable Ben Kane? She knew she wasn’t the type of girl that type of guy went in for. She didn’t even know what a pore minimizer was, much less own a bottle of the stuff. And her underwear…

She pulled to a halt and stared at the front of her cords. She could almost hear her mother’s voice. “And always remember to wear a decent pair of underwear in case you get in an accident.”

Reilly made a beeline for her bedroom at the back of the upstairs apartment, undoing her cords as she went so that by the time she reached the room they nearly tripped her where they were bunched down around her ankles.

Knowing Ben had seen this underwear was worse than thirty doctors staring down at her lifeless body and taking in the butt-ugly underpants.