Pure Lust (Lust for Life) (4 page)

Lin took the card from in front of the salt and pepper shakers
and laid it on the table in front of Claire, note side up. “He’s offering you
the night of your life.”

“What’s that phrase you like to use about men who are all
talk?” she asked wryly. “Or is it dogs and barking? I’m not sure which cliché
applies here.”

“I will bet every penny I have to my name that man
can
and
will
make good on every single word of that promise.” She pushed the
card an inch closer.

“But he was such a punk as a kid.”

Lin gave her that slow blink that was her version of rolling
her eyes.

“Fine.” Claire snatched the card off the table and tucked it
under her leg just to get it out of sight and hopefully out of mind for a
minute. “I’ll call him. After a little more liquid courage,” she added and
sipped her delicious drink.

“That’s my girl.” Lin said with a satisfied smile and sipped
her drink as well.

Lin had cut their margarita night short by calling her
husband for a ride home a full hour before the usual time. Of course it had
left Claire plenty of time to call Diego before it got too late, and while she
was still feeling brave from the pep talk Lin had laid on her about having a
little fun while the fun was being offered.

Diego had answered right away, and then they’d stayed on the
phone for an hour, talking as though they’d been old friends instead of just
classmates who’d barely spoken. She was surprised that he remembered much more
than she did from those days, and even more surprised when he reminded her of a
couple of rare times when they’d been paired up on a project, or shared a laugh
or had just played together.

While she hadn’t thought of him much over the years, her
memory of him had been strictly associated with the words fat cow when they
flashed in her mind as she was running or biking or letting a personal trainer
push her way past her physical limits in an effort to try to lose some weight.

But she hadn’t held onto those words as part of a grudge.
They’d been kids, and she’d mostly let go of it almost immediately, thanks to
her mom and the long talk they’d had when she went home crying after school
that long-ago afternoon. When the thought did pop into her head during workouts
it had been easy to dismiss.

The anger that had flared when she initially saw Diego
outside of his sister’s birthing room had burned out almost as quickly as it
had caught fire, fueled by an old, weak trace of the humiliation she’d felt
that day. Damn him for being so charming, or damn her for being so easy to
forgive, but the incident that had caused her to lash out at him had been put
back where it belonged—into the far back corner of her mind.

All that aside, it didn’t change the fact that she was
nervous about their date. The entire time they’d been on the phone she’d heard
the telltale cutting out of his voice as he’d been talking, indicating he was
getting incoming phone calls or text messages. It had happened six times in
all. She was ashamed of herself for counting, because it was really none of her
business, but she took it as a sign that she’d been right about the fact that he
might be the kind of guy who got around. A lot.

She liked the whole theory of having a good time with him
for as long as it lasted, but she knew herself well enough to know she didn’t
do
just
a good time.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach as the sound of a car
pulling into her driveway came through her bedroom window, open an inch to let
in the cool spring evening air. She stepped away from the full-length mirror,
where she’d been fretting over her choice of dress, flipped off the light and
snuck over to the window. Her belly dipped again at the sight of him getting
out of that slick black car, looking so different than he had the other day and
so damn sexy in a dark jacket and matching dress pants.

God help her, he was carrying a bag from one of her favorite
chocolate stores.

He seemed to be taking a moment to look over the front of
her house as he closed the car door, then his gaze wandered around the yard and
down the street. She had no idea what he was looking for, but a tingle of
something uncomfortable snaked its way up her spine when he gaze caught and
stuck on something.

She followed his line of sight, but hers was limited by the
rose of Sharon just outside her bedroom window and she couldn’t see whatever it
was that had caught his attention. For her there was nothing but the other
houses in her neighborhood, all of their yards empty of people, and a car or
two parked at the curb.

Claire was still trying to get a good look when her doorbell
sounded a moment later. She put a hand to her forehead and took a deep
steadying breath to calm her suddenly raging nerves. After a moment, she closed
and locked the window very quietly, and then made her way to the front door.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he said when she opened it,
scanning her so slowly from head to toe that her knees were weak before those
dark-green eyes reached them.

Violet. His button-down shirt was violet. Claire had the
sneaking suspicion the color had come into being just so Diego could wear it
one day, it suited him so perfectly.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she said and was pleased
to hear she sounded much more relaxed than she felt.

He never took his eyes off her as he stepped inside, handed
her the Lindt truffles and put his free hand on her waist. Heat exploded within
her from her core out at both his touch and the way his scent washed through
her senses.

A small smile appeared and then vanished a second before his
mouth descended on hers, his lips immediately parting so he could touch his
tongue to her bottom lip, causing her to open for him. She moaned as his tongue
slid deeply into her mouth, tangled with hers in a sensual dance, retreated and
returned in a slow undulating movement that erased all doubt about what Diego
Rodriguez might be like in bed.

The bag of truffles crinkled when she swayed toward him,
trapping it between their bodies. His arm slid around her waist and then moved
lower, wrapped around the upper part of her hips to pull her against his hard
body. And when he dragged her lip through his teeth very gently as he pulled
back, she had the sneaking suspicion they were never going to leave her house.
And that would be fine with her.

“I’ve been wanting to do that again for days, Claire,” he
confessed, his already sexy voice rough with lust.

Barely able to peel her eyelids open, let alone speak, she
nodded and met his gaze.

“How do you feel about flying?” he asked, his eyes scanning
her face before lowering to her breasts, which were pushed just a little higher
out of the neckline of her dress because she’d plastered herself to his chest.

Claire blinked as she tried to decipher what he’d asked.
“Excuse me?”

She already felt kind of buzzy and lightheaded. Exactly what
did he plan to do to her that was going to make her feel as if she was flying?

“Airplanes. Jets,” he clarified with an amused twitch of his
incredible lips, his eyes climbing back up to hers in no particular hurry. “Are
you afraid of them?”

“No.” Her head was starting to clear a little.

“It’s going to be kind of hard to give you the night of your
life on a Tuesday in Toledo. The place seriously just shuts right down after
eight o’clock. How do you feel about Chicago?”

She blinked at him. “I love Chicago.” She went there several
times a year to catch concert tours, attend bachelorette parties, spend whole
days in the museums, shop.

The arm around her hips tightened, his fingers digging into
her flesh just a little, sending a tingle through her. “So let’s go to
Chicago.”

She simply looked at him a moment, incredulous. “How am I
supposed to say no?”

His eyebrows went up slightly. “In a perfect world you would
say yes.”

She laughed and felt some of her nervousness escape.

“How about some motivation?” He took the chocolates out of
her hand and put them on the small table where she kept her purse and keys,
then wrapped both arms around her and hauled her incredibly close.

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear
life as he drew deep on her mouth in long, head-spinning pulls, his amazing
tongue hinting at a talent she’d never experienced before in another man. Not
in her husband, and not in any of the men she’d kissed the handful of times
she’d tried dating. Diego’s kiss sent vibrant pulses of electricity through her
body to her clit, making her feel wet and needy.

God, it had been too long, and she was not ready for a man
like him, she thought as doubt wormed its way into her confidence. At the same
time she knew that if she let fear of the unknown overpower that small sense of
adventure Lin had talked her into, she would be missing out on the chance of a
lifetime.

She was positively drunk with desire for the unknown—for
Diego, for his lean, strong body and his unbelievable mouth—when he finally
released her.

“Okay,” she told him breathlessly. “Let’s go.”

* * * * *

He didn’t ask her to pack a bag, just had her grab her
purse, keys and wrap and opened the door for her, leaving her scratching her
head in confusion. Yes, part of her was impressed he wasn’t taking it for
granted that they would spend the night together, but why go through all the trouble
of taking her two hundred and fifty miles away if they weren’t going to stay
long enough to need at least a change of clothes?

When they arrived he asked the cab driver at the airport to
take them directly to the restaurant, where he’d apparently made a reservation
under the assumption she would agree to fly away with him. The huge amount
confidence that showed made her smile to herself, and she had to wonder if
anyone ever told the man no.

Claire was surprised to find she was starving in spite of the
way Diego had turned her stomach into a riot of nervous flutters, kissing her
silly then whisking her away like he had. As soon as their server put the
appetizer in front of them she remembered it had been many long hours since
she’d eaten. Her whole day had been wrapped up first in working on her bathroom
to take her mind off their date and then getting ready, which she’d put much
more time into than she usually did.

After dinner he took her to a piano bar, which was a lot
more fun than she would have imagined. Two baby grands sat facing each other in
the middle of the large room, the tables all placed around them.

She and Diego had just gotten lucky and found an open table
for two when the pianist invited someone to join him on stage. The moment the
other player sat down and turned on his microphone, the show became a
competition of sorts. They alternated between telling jokes through fast-paced
banter that got the crowd roaring with laughter and playing familiar songs that
in turn had almost everyone singing along.

Afterward he took her to a dive of a blues club that was
only about halfway full of patrons. The band was an eclectic mix of both very
old and young that was shocking at first glance but quickly forgotten as soon
as they started to play.

She was embarrassed at first when Diego got out of his seat
and asked her to dance during a particularly soulful slow song, but the moment
he pulled her into his arms and started to move, she forgot all about the fact
they were the only people on the floor.

She got caught up in the loose, easy sway of his body as he
moved them around the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The way his hands
held her so carefully when she could so clearly feel the power in his hard,
muscular body caused her heart to race and mouth to go dry with anticipation.

He pulled her closer and her world narrowed to just his
body, to the heat coming off him, the way he smelled and his cheek pressed to
hers. She loosened the grip she had on him and let her hands wander a little,
over the smooth back of his neck, the taut muscles of his shoulders, down his
arms to his hard biceps.

Her nails dug into his arms just a little when he brushed
his lips over her earlobe, and then her head tilted to one side as he explored
the sensitive space behind her ear with the end of his nose, his mouth and,
have
mercy
, the tip of his tongue. Her arms drifted back up to wrap around his
neck for support as he began a slow journey down the side of her neck in an
exploration that made her eyes drift shut as if on their own.

He pulled her fully against him as he grazed his teeth over
the ultra-sensitive spot where her neck curved into her shoulder, really
showing her the power in his arms as they banded around her and held her close,
tight. She shivered as she felt him getting hard against her belly, never
missing a step as they continued to sway in time to the music, and realized
with no small amount of wonder that he wanted her.

Diego Rodriguez, the annoying kid who’d grown up to be one
of the most physically beautiful men walking the earth really, truly wanted
her
,
Claire Reagan, the tall and plain size ten, twelve when she was feeling
bloated.

“We started something,” he said next to her ear, just loud
enough she could hear him over the music.

She peeled her eyes open and looked up at him when he raised
his head, not knowing what he meant until she realized other couples had
started dancing as well. Three of them, the one she could see over his shoulder
holding each other tightly, swaying together erotically, the woman looking
directly at Claire over her man’s shoulder. The moment Claire made eye contact,
the woman smiled suggestively.

It was so intimate, so scandalous, moving in Diego’s arms,
her body on fire for him while someone else watched with a look in her eye that
said she
knew
. They were perfect strangers, but Claire imagined the
woman could tell how much she wished they were anywhere else but out in public
where she could really get her hands on him.

Naked as the day he was born, preferably.

Or maybe the woman wanted in on the action. It was hard to
say.

All Claire knew was that she’d never been so turned-on in
her life, and the fact that someone else was watching only seemed to be adding
fuel to the fire. Sharp, zinging shocks of arousal through her sex and her
nipples—which was an entirely new sensation for her—caused her to shiver.

She was aware Diego was watching her. His hands wandered
slowly, lightly over her back, her waist and hips, never losing contact with
her body. His eyes were so intensely riveted to hers she found she couldn’t
look away. All she wanted in the entire world was for him to kiss her, right
there in the middle of the dance floor.

No. More than that, she wanted to drag his gorgeous ass to
the bathroom and let him have his way with her up against the wall. Any wall.
Cripes, a toilet stall would do.