Basic Attraction (7 page)

She pushed Greedy’s head away from her broccoli, thinking he was anything but cool. “Didn’t you ever have a pet as a kid?”

“Nah. My mom’s attention wanders too much to take care of an animal.” He slurped up a noodle, and she wondered how depraved she was to think that it was sensual.

Obviously, eighteen months was too long for a woman in her prime to go without sexual activity. Of any kind. Besides, in her two-year relationship with Mark, the sex had never been exactly awe inspiring. For a man who could run around a soccer field for hours and hours, he was awfully short-winded in the bedroom.

Unaware of the carnal shift her thoughts had taken, Luke was still talking about pets. “And my dad doesn’t like animals. Just women.”

Sheri always felt embarrassed when Angel talked about her father, and she didn’t know what to say now to Luke either. He hardly looked sensitive about the subject, but it had to be a little strange to have five siblings who all had different mothers.

If she were a practiced flirt, she could whisper in a seductive voice something like “Do
you
like women?” But if she tried to say something like that, he would probably choke on his chow mein from laughter.

Instead, she shifted on the floor and mumbled, “We always had pets. Dogs, cats, turtles, birds.”

“Do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“One brother.” Who she saw twice a year. “We’re not exactly close.” She had gotten over Steve’s disinterest years ago, but she still longed for a better relationship with him. Or a new brother.

“Why not?” Luke let Greedy swipe a piece of scrambled egg from his fried rice.

No mystery there. “Because I’m three inches taller than him.”

Luke paused mid-bite then laughed. “Are you serious?”

How she wished she weren’t. “Yes. He’s two years older than me, and by the time I was in fourth grade, I was taller than him. He always swore that boys grow later and he would catch up, but he never did. It’s not like he’s short or anything. He just found it awkward to have a sister bigger than him.”

“That’s unreal.” He shook his head.

“The thing is, if I could have chosen, I would have given him the three inches.” She shrugged and bit a noodle.

He tossed his chopsticks down. “I’m glad you couldn’t. I can’t picture you any other way but with mile-high legs and green eyes that meet mine straight on.”

“Stop it.” Her face went hot, first from his comment, then from her hasty words. That was by far the worst response to a compliment she had given since middle school. She stared at her food in confusion. If only she could trust herself to believe him, then she could enjoy spending time with him a whole lot more. Even when he was tossing sexual innuendos at her with a lascivious grin, she had trouble believing that it was more than a game.

Trouble believing that he could want her the way she wanted him. Because she did. And if she could swallow her fear and accept what he was saying at face value, she was going to forget about the consequences and sleep with him.

Because sleeping with him, enjoying sex, wasn’t the issue. It was her self-esteem, and no one could fix that but her. So what if she slept with Luke and he didn’t text her the next day? It just meant that they were in different places in their lives—hell, different cities when he went home to Chicago. Just because he didn’t want to marry her after five minutes didn’t mean he wasn’t attracted to her or that she was of any less value.

It was hard to acknowledge that she was still fighting the same battles at twenty-eight that she had at eighteen and thirteen. She wanted to be over her insecurities, once and for all.

His eyes narrowed. “Drop the chopstick.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, dropping the utensil reflexively.

“I’m going to ask you a question.” He closed the food boxes one by one slowly and methodically, stacking her plate on top of his and shoving them against the wall.

“Yes?” Her heart picked up its pace in nervousness. She hoped this wasn’t like truth or dare. She had always hated that game and usually lied her way through it.

“Do you think you’re sexy?” He was stalking her now, inching forward on his knees towards her.

What kind of a question is that?
she wondered hysterically. A trick question—that’s what it was.

“It’s not a trick question.”

Damn! Was he reading her mind?

“Do you think you’re sexy to men?”

When he put it that way, the answer was a little more obvious. She shook her head and her ponytail hit her in the cheek. “No.”

He swore. Colorfully. She wasn’t going to change her answer though. Men saw her as a pal. Someone to jog with, not get naked with. She tilted her head up.

“You’re sexy to me.” One of Luke’s hands snaked out and took hers. As he slowly kissed each finger, he stared at her. “And to any man who’s not blind. Some men are intimidated by a woman who’s got her act together. I already told you I’m not one of them.”

No, he definitely wasn’t intimidated by her. As his mouth did moist and warm things to her fingers, she shivered in unexpected pleasure. She closed her eyes and sank into the sensation of her body waking up, tingling all over in heightened awareness.

“So?” She was full of snappy comebacks tonight.

He chuckled softly. “So if it’s all right with you, I’m going to get rid of this food then show you how much I appreciate how beautiful you are.”

Her fingers still wet from his tongue, she pulled her hand back and gaped at him. Somehow the word appreciate had never sounded so good.

“Don’t move,” he commanded. “I want you just like that when I get back. Flushed and excited. Surprised.”

She couldn’t have moved if the house were burning to the ground. Staring dumbly, she watched him scoop up all the food and garbage in his arms and carry it to the kitchen, moving quickly but not rushing.

When he came back, he was tugging his fingers through his hair and moving closer and closer to her. He scooted the cat carrier up against the front door and tossed a toy mouse into it. Greedy dove for the bait, jumping into the carrier.

She wondered if Luke remembered that there was a gift from Greedy’s stomach still residing in that carrier. The thought fled when he squatted down in front of the speaker on the floor next to the TV. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and docked it there.

“Music?”

“Sure.” Bracing herself for some of the garage band music she knew he favored, she tried not to wince when he hit play. A violin and a flute danced softly into the room. A sigh escaped her. Trying to understand the complicated man in front of her, she whispered, “Handel. You like classical music?”

“At the right moment.” He turned to her. “Can I kiss you, Sheri?”

He looked so serious, so tender, that she started to tremble. She wanted him to so much. There was no good reason to say no. “Yes.”

“Thank God,” he murmured as he reached for her, his knees on the carpet.

Helping him shorten the distance, she rocked forward, her leg pressing into the rubber sole of her hiking boot. He searched her face, raking over every inch until, at the last second, she closed her eyes.

Then his lips touched hers, and she moaned. He was firm, warm, in control—just the way she envisioned everything about him. It only took light contact, and she was desperate for more. She claimed his hair with her fingers, diving into it, fascinated by its softness.

His head tilted as he urged her mouth open with his tongue. When his warm, slick tongue slipped inside, she felt a jolt in her whole body that left her gasping. Never had she wanted so much, so fast, and she leaned farther, trying to press herself against him.

The boot was in her way. She stumbled over her own foot and lost her handhold on his head. Luke was breathing hard, his lips wet from their kisses, his hair standing on end from her ruthless ransacking. She wanted him so badly she felt itchy. With maniacal, jerky movements, she grabbed her boot and pulled, tossing it behind her before yanking off the other one.

Her wool hiking socks looked ridiculous on her size-ten feet, so she peeled those off too and wiggled her toes.

Watching her, Luke brushed his finger back and forth on the bottom of her foot. “Are you ticklish?”

Already struggling not to laugh, she nodded. “Yes.” Painfully so. She jerked as he tickled with all of his fingers. “Stop it.”

Tucking her feet behind her, she grabbed his hand to stop him from pursuing her, still giggling.

“Where else are you ticklish?” He grinned devilishly at her.

“Nowhere,” she lied nonchalantly.

“How about here?” He tickled her arm.

To her credit, she was only mildly affected.

“Or here?” He swept her into his arms, pushing her back on the carpet with one hand while the other attacked her abdomen.

It was agonizing. She doubled over in a fit of laughter, air wheezing in and out of her lungs. “Stop!” she gasped. “I can’t take it!” She tried to wiggle out of his reach, rolling back and forth until he stopped and quickly pinned her down with his body.

As she struggled for breath, he smiled. “You fell over.”

“You pushed me!”

“This is better anyway.” His tickling had caused her shirt to pull out of her shorts and ride up to her ribcage. His thumb lazily traced back and forth.

“For what?” she said breathlessly, staring up at him as he possessively hovered over her. His arm muscles were rippling in his shirt, and he rested on them, supporting his weight. His hair was in his eyes, and she reached up and flipped it out of the way.

“For this.” He leaned over and kissed her.

He tasted like soy sauce, salty and sharp, and she sucked on the tip of his tongue when he pressed it to her lips. He moaned deep in his throat, and Sheri reveled in it. He wanted her. Maybe almost as much as she wanted him.

His body was sinking down on top of her, and she let her head roll back as he buried his head in her neck. It only took a second to pull his shirt out of his waistband and glide her fingers across his strong back.

Nice. It was the only word that could enter her foggy brain. Very, very nice.

His teeth nipping at her breast startled her. With hazy, half-focused eyes, she looked down at Luke’s head bent over her chest, his fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on her shirt while his mouth moved over her, kissing through the fabric.

The air shivered across her as he flung her shirt open recklessly and stared at her. For too long. She flushed and murmured, “What’s the matter?”

His face reflected bewilderment. “What is this thing?”

“Huh?”

She caught a glimpse of her heavy-duty support bra as she glanced down. It was more like a spandex top, complete with a zipper and mesh side panels. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job, which was holding back her chest at work. Hiking across the park with bouncing breasts was not high on her list of fun things to do.

Pushing him back, she sat up with a flush. “It’s my work bra.” Embarrassed but willing to get over it to quiet the gurgling need brewing inside her, she quickly shirked off her top and gripped the sides of the bra. “Close your eyes.” It was too much of a tug-and-pull struggle to do with him watching.

He gave the bra another suspicious glance then did as she asked. Quickly and with as little grunting and wiggling as possible, she ditched the bra over her shoulder. She wet her lips nervously and leaned back on her arms.

“Okay.”

Eyes bugging out of his head was a good thing. His mouth opened and closed again. He stared. He gasped. He moaned. Finally, he leaned forward, murmuring, “Sheri.”

A warm hand cupped her breast, and she arched farther. “Yes.”

When his tongue flicked across her nipple, she started to squirm, the ache inside building quickly. Her hands dropped into his hair again, and when she felt herself pulled into his mouth, she yanked ruthlessly on the strands. He didn’t stop. Instead, he lavished appreciation on her breast, sucking in deeply and hard, until she was rocking back and forth, crying out.

She was burning. A sense of urgency overwhelmed her, and she pushed him back, breaking the contact, wanting more. Wanting everything. He glanced up with eyes the blue of a storm-filled sky. The sight of his wet mouth had her reaching out for his shirt. With a swift yank, she had it over his head and before her was that rock-solid chest that had tormented her dreams and thoughts for the past two days.

Her greedy hands rushed over it, tracing the tattoo with a finger. The fantasy came back to her, the one involving her tongue and the various lines of his tattoo. She leaned forward and flicked tentatively right at the center. He moaned.

Good response. Lapping longer, she traced with the tip of her tongue, tasting the salty heat of his bronze skin.

His breathing came rushing past her ear, ragged and disjointed. “What are you doing?”

“Getting a little sun.” Amazed at her boldness, she continued her taste, gripping his arms for balance, becoming reckless with her lips when he put his hands on her behind and cupped her. Then one hand slipped underneath until he was lightly stroking across her, teasing and torturing. Pulling back with a groan, she panted, “Get your pants off.”

“Gladly.”

As he shoved down his pants, she wiggled out of her shorts, her back scratching against the new carpet. She left her panties on, assuming that Luke was the kind who would enjoy peeling them off of her. He pulled a condom out of his pocket, ripping the foil with his teeth.

Interesting. He was either a Boy Scout, which she seriously doubted, or he had been expecting that she would cave before he went back to Chicago.

The anxious desire on his face made her feel more beautiful than any words ever could, and she was eager to share herself with him, if only for a little while. Now was what mattered, and she was going to embrace the experience. Embrace him.

Screw tomorrow. Here was a man who wanted to ravish her and she was going to let him. It was a unique and new experience, and she figured she’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity. So she teased at his erection with her fingertips while he tore open the foil packet.

After he quickly sheathed himself, his thumbs hooked the band of her panties and slowly pulled them down, his breath dancing across her stomach teasingly. Then his tongue followed the panties in a hot trail down her leg and she jerked convulsively. She had never felt this ache, this desperateness to join with a man. She couldn’t wait another minute.