The Guy Next Door (24 page)

E
RIC WAS FILLED WITH
a strange and arousing mixture of lust and guilt. Her arm slid along his, and a very interesting amount of cleavage was exposed when she leaned so close to him. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever met, and every time she said “Jamie” it was rubbing his conscience raw. Now she was offering complete honesty?

He would have stopped her if he hadn’t been so intent on hearing her thoughts.

“You know where I work.”

He nodded and watched her pink lips touch the edge of her glass. She drank, and when she lowered the wine, her lips were even pinker. Ruby-red and touched with dampness. Eric’s mouth went dry.

He felt hypnotized, and when her knee brushed his, he reached automatically to touch it. Beth inhaled sharply, and those ruby lips parted just the tiniest bit.

“Because of my job,” she continued, the words slightly breathless. “You might think…”

Fascinated by her response and drawn in by her soft skin, Eric rubbed his little finger along the inside of her knee. She edged her leg closer to his, parting her knees, giving him space. His mind tumbled over in a primal surge of victory.

“What I’m trying to say,” she whispered, “is that I don’t usually do this.”

“This?” he repeated. Her skin was so hot. He spread his fingers wider, edging them past her knee to her thigh.

“Yes,” she breathed. “This.” And her hand pressed atop his.

This was wrong. Because she didn’t know who he was. Because they were virtually strangers. Because they were in public. But wrong felt better than he’d imagined it could.

Wrong felt like the silky heat of her thigh as she dragged his hand higher. It felt like her skirt easing up as he slid beneath it. And it felt like her muscles trembling as she edged her legs farther apart.

Eric suddenly regretted that he’d spent his life doing the right thing. Instead, he wanted to do…
this
.

His fingers brushed the satiny fabric between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat, and Eric ceased breathing altogether. Her muscles tightened as she tried to spread her knees farther, but the material of the skirt was too narrow around her thighs.

Eric didn’t mind. He didn’t plan to go further than this. This place, where he could slip his fingers between her thighs and rub just there.

Beth bit back a little whimper, cutting it off before it became a moan. She let go of his wrist and put her hand on his thigh instead. He held still, settling in to the idea that he was really doing this, giving himself just a few seconds to decide that he was.

He pressed circles against her clit, feeling the satin grow wet under his touch, feeling her thighs tremble.
He didn’t pause even when a group of people passed by, their voices filling the booth for a moment.

She choked on a gasp, but no one could see past the front of the table. Eric had made sure of that, in the interest of privacy, but he hadn’t anticipated they’d need it quite this much.

As her breathing grew more ragged, her fingers dug into his thigh. She stared straight ahead, her expression caught somewhere between pleasure and worry.

Was she an exhibitionist? Was that her thing? Eric didn’t give a damn as long as she kept making those soft, whimpering sounds. As long as she clutched his thigh as if he was anchoring her to the earth.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered.

He didn’t move in to kiss her. He didn’t dare get any closer. As it was, if the waitress reappeared, she would see nothing more than a man turned slightly toward a woman as they talked. So instead of kissing her, Eric watched her face closely. Redness touched her cheeks like rouge. Her pulse beat hard in her throat. He increased the pressure against her clit, and the skin around her eyes tightened as her pupils went wider.

Someone spoke loudly in the booth next to theirs. Laughter echoed through the booth.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I…”

Her hips twitched, pushing up against his hand. Her thighs shook around him as her muscles spasmed. She was coming. Right here. Right now. His other hand tightened into a fist that he pressed mercilessly against the table. His cock grew so hard that it hurt.

She bowed her head and he could barely hear her strangled cry as she jerked against him.

Eric stared at the fall of her hair, utterly shocked at
what he’d just done. He’d made this woman come. He’d stroked her to climax in a public place and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

He was going to have to be bad more often.

T
HIS WAS SEXUAL LIBERATION
. This was embracing a fantasy. This was also a little bit awkward as he eased his hand out from between her thighs.

Beth raised her head. She didn’t look at him, but she could see that his wineglass wasn’t quite steady as he raised it for a drink. She pressed her thighs together and savored the last little spasms of pleasure that took her.

Were they supposed to talk now? Discuss the latest movies? Beth couldn’t begin to think at this point.

“Will you excuse me for a moment?” she whispered before smoothing down her skirt and sliding out of the booth.

“Of course,” he said, his words following her toward the dark hallway.

She found the women’s room and pushed through the door, immediately meeting her own eyes in the mirror. She looked dazed. And flushed. She looked like a woman who’d just done something wicked.

Covering her mouth, she whispered, “Wow.” She pressed her hand harder, trying to stop the grin that was starting. But she couldn’t stop it. She’d just done something totally insane. In public. “Oh, wow,” she said again, the words dissolving into laughter.

Her panties were soaking wet. Her thighs weak and shaky. And he was still at the table, waiting for her.

The door whooshed open behind her, and Beth pressed her lips together to stifle her grin as she
reached for the faucet so she’d look less conspicuous. She couldn’t just stand there grinning at herself, even if she was the most awesome woman in the building.

As soon as she heard the stall door close behind her, Beth smiled at herself again. She dried her hands and smoothed her hair. She didn’t need to touch up her makeup. Her lips were flushed deep red and her eyes sparkled. Hell, yeah.

Beth undid one more button on her shirt and opened the door. She was going to take this man home tonight. Preferably within the next quarter hour.

Three steps outside of the bathroom she ran straight into disaster.

“Beth!” Cairo squealed as she reached out to grab Beth’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” Beth yelped. “Cairo! I…” She looked past Cairo’s head and saw Jamie watching their little reunion. Crap. “I’m meeting with a, um, an accountant. From the accounting seminar. About tax…strategy.”

“Well, come here. I want you to meet Harrison.”

“Who?” Beth asked, dumbfounded by shock.

“Harrison, my boyfriend. He’s a bartender here.”

Oh, Jesus. Why hadn’t she paid closer attention to Cairo’s stories? Harrison was the newer of her two boyfriends, and Beth belatedly remembered that he worked nearby. Unfortunately, she hadn’t registered the useful details. “I can’t, I need to finish this meeting.”

Cairo tugged on her arm. “Come on. It’ll only take a second.”

Beth had to follow her, but she threw a wide-eyed look at Jamie over her shoulder. She held up one finger in the hopes he’d take the message and stay put. Though he frowned, he leaned back in his seat. Thank God.

“That’s him,” Cairo whispered, waving toward a young man at the other side of the room. He was slim and of average height, but that was the only average thing about him. His hair was a close buzz cut, bleached so blond it was nearly white. It offered a stark contrast against his bronze skin and black tattoos. He was pierced and studded in multiple places on his face, and Beth knew for a fact that the ornamentation continued down his body.

He stopped before them with a wide, welcoming smile.

“This is Beth,” Cairo said. “My boss.”

“I’m Harrison. Nice to meet you.” He reached across the bar to shake her hand and slid a wine list toward her with the other. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Oh. I’d better…” She darted a look toward the booth.

“No, stay!” Cairo said. “It’ll be fun. You said you were almost done with the meeting, right? We never hang out anymore.”

Beth couldn’t believe this was happening. She thought of Jamie waiting in the booth like some clean-cut sex god. She looked at Cairo’s bleach-blond alternative toy with a sense of hopelessness.

“Wait a minute,” Cairo said. “Are you sure you’re only here for a business meeting?”

“What? Of course, it’s just a meeting. Ha! I’ll go finish up and I’ll be right back. You order for me, Harrison.”

She was being ridiculous. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Yes, Jamie looked a lot like an off-duty stockbroker, but Beth didn’t have anything to prove. She should just stand up and take it like a woman.

Still, she’d taken a big step today. Best to put off any more growth until tomorrow. Anything more might break her.

She slid into the booth next to Jamie and grabbed her purse. “I’m really, really sorry, but you have to go,” she said in rush.

“Excuse me?” Jamie asked, still relaxed against the seat back.

“I know it’s awful. Unforgivable really, leaving you like this. After you… But there’s somebody here, and—”

He sat straight up. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No! It’s not that, it’s just…”

His confused frown darkened to suspicion. “What?”

“This is hard to explain. And after what we…um… There’s someone here from my shop. One of my employees, and…”

“And?”

“And I have an image to maintain.”

“I’ll sit on the other side of the table. We’ll be perfectly respectable.”

Heat burned in her face. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Beth.” He raised his hands in helpless question. “I’m trying hard to understand, but I’m missing something here.”

She snuck a look around the banquette to be sure Cairo was still at the bar before offering a longer explanation. “Okay, listen. The White Orchid is Annabelle Mendez’s dream. It’s an extension of
her
. Sophisticated, edgy, daring. Cool and hip and modern. The shop
is
Annabelle, and I’m committed to maintaining everything she is. Every single person I hire is open-minded and
forward-thinking. Invested in women’s sexual freedom. And I am too. It’s just that…”

He leaned forward.

“On occasion, I find myself attracted to a man like you.”

“Like me?” He sounded caught halfway between insult and pride.

“Traditional. Sort of…old-fashioned.”

“Old-fashioned?”

She waved a hand, her mind searching desperately for a better descriptor. “You’ve got a country-club vibe, you know?”

His mouth opened as if he meant to repeat her words again, but then he only shook his head. He looked…traumatized? “I run a brewery,” he rasped.

Beth pressed her hands to her eyes to give herself a chance to gather up the courage she’d sat down with. “I’m sorry.” When she opened her eyes, he looked a little less confused, but maybe she’d only pressed her eyeballs too hard. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’d heard of you and I kind of thought… Well, considering your reputation, I thought maybe you were a no-strings-attached kind of guy. And, obviously, I’d want a no-strings-attached kind of, um, encounter. Not a date. Not in public.”

“You mean you…? You’d want to…”

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. This is so wrong, especially after what just happened. Jamie, I really like you, but I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t get involved with a guy like you.”

He took a deep breath. “You… Jesus. ‘A guy like me?’ All this talk about being open-minded, but you seem pretty damn narrow-minded about
me
.”

“Oh, there you go,” she said, relieved that her ridiculousness had removed any chance he’d like her. “Yet another problem! I’ve exposed myself as a hypocrite, another good reason not to get involved.” She was nodding, but Jamie was shaking his head in what appeared to be utter shock.

Beth’s courage was gone. She’d taken control and been honest. She’d embraced her sexual desires. But now that she’d managed that big step, it was time to run away and regroup.

“Okay!” she said brightly. He jumped as if he’d been lost in thought. “I’m sorry about…” She gestured toward his lap. “And thank you. Just… I’m sorry.”

She started to slide out of the booth, but he put a hand on her wrist to stop her. “Wait.”

She froze.

“You’re not exactly the kind of woman I usually date, either.”

Beth stiffened. “From what I’ve heard, you date all kinds of women.”

He blinked as if she’d surprised him, then he shook his head. “Regardless, I meant to say that I’ll leave, and we can still see each other. Later. Tomorrow. No one needs to know.”

Her heart stopped beating for a painful moment. She thought of his hands, his scent, the gorgeous mouth she wanted so badly to taste. And then she thought of the childish panic she’d felt at the sight of Cairo. She clearly wasn’t ready for this.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she sighed.

“Think about it.”

She shouldn’t. But she knew she’d spend all night
thinking about it regardless, so Beth nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But no promises.”

This time when she slid away, he let her go.

Beth walked away from him as if it were easy. As if everything was back to normal. But inside, she was changed. She could feel it.

T
WELVE HOURS LATER,
Eric’s brain hadn’t stopped spinning. He kept staring at the horizon, trying to steady himself, but the horizon was a convention hall filled with milling people, so that didn’t help. Still, it kept him from gawking at The White Orchid’s booth. Mostly.

Today she wore a black skirt. Just as conservative and businesslike. Just as fantastically cupped over her ass as the brown skirt had been. But this one had a little pleat at the back of her knees that flipped out when she walked.

And the heels. The heels were deep red. How was he supposed to keep his eyes off her for more than a minute?

He let his gaze slip up from her shoes to her calves then over that magnificent ass. The rest of the way up her body, he was telling himself to look away, look away… He should’ve taken his own advice, because when he reached her face, he realized she was staring back. He held her gaze until she closed her eyes, then he cursed as he turned back to the stacks of promo coasters he was unpacking.

How the hell did she consider
Eric
the inappropriate half of this puzzle? As if he could be seen with
Beth Cantrell,
for God’s sake. He was a business owner trying to promote his place as a respectable brewery, not
a party bar. And he was, for all intents and purposes, the head of his family. He had an innocent little sister to think of. My God, what would Tessa think if she found out Eric had dated a woman like Beth? What would she
imagine?

Not that Beth could know any of that. She thought he was a man primed for meaningless sex.

Christ, he’d been crazy even to flirt with her.

But when he turned around to grab another box, his peripheral vision hinted that Beth was looking again. Tension swept through his body, painful at first, but as the tension faded, it left behind a warmth that haunted him like a ghost.

When was the last time he’d felt true physical anticipation? The kind of suspense inspired by the mystery of a stranger’s body? But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a detective. He wasn’t an adventurer. The mystery of Beth Cantrell had nothing to do with him.

But the ghostly warmth stayed with him. He couldn’t shake it.

And how was he supposed to when he’d touched her that way? When he’d watched her face as she came apart in his hands?

“Henry,” he barked. “I’m going to make the rounds. Hold down the fort.”

They wouldn’t start serving samples until eleven, so he didn’t anticipate that Henry would have any trouble handing out coasters and hats and brochures. But Eric didn’t use the chance to pass Beth’s booth again. He headed resolutely in the other direction.

The booth he wanted was about halfway across the room. A local roasting company had offered to make a bid on supplying him with barroom snacks like cashews
and peanuts. Eric had promised to hear the owner out. He liked the idea of organic ingredients and imported salt, but it would likely prove too pricey.

He was only a few booths from his target when he spotted Kendall and veered toward the right so he’d be sure to intersect the man’s path.

“Mr. Kendall,” he said simply, holding out his hand as a trap.

“Donovan.” The man’s hand was just like his face, big, meaty and unhappy, if the overly strong grip was any indication.

“It’s great to see you again. I was hoping I’d find you today. You enjoying the expo?”

“A lot of new faces,” Kendall muttered with an arrogant look around.

Yes,
Eric wanted to say,
that’s the point.
But Kendall probably wouldn’t appreciate that. “About lunch today. I hoped we could—”

“Can’t do it, Donovan.”

Eric felt a surge of anger, but he forced a smile. “All right. But I hope you’ve set aside time this evening.”

Kendall sighed, his eyes shifting past Eric as if he couldn’t wait to get away. His attitude made Eric want to growl. He could make this guy a decent amount of money given a chance.

Eric held his tongue and waited patiently. Finally, Kendall cleared his throat. “The chamber of commerce is holding a reception tonight. Are you going to be there?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine. We can talk then.”

Okay. This was good. It had taken Eric nearly a year of wrangling to get Kendall to meet him the first
time. This second meeting had taken only a few weeks. Though maybe “meeting” was a bit of an exaggeration. “I’ll see you there,” he called as Kendall walked off with an impatient wave.

Eric allowed himself one small smile before he headed toward his original destination. This was what he’d come to the expo for, not a secret encounter with a fantasy woman.

Maybe if he told himself that a few dozen more times, he’d stop thinking about Beth Cantrell. But he didn’t hold out much hope.

L
EATHER, FEATHERS, METAL
and lace. Beth scowled at the display that had popped up next to the register at The White Orchid. She had five minutes to fix this before she had to run back to the conference hall for the reception.

“Well,” she said carefully to her newest employee. “You’ve got a really good idea here, Penelope.”

“Thanks!”

“But I think it might be a bit too…crowded.” More like tacky as all hell and likely to scare off any new customers who might come in. “The handcuffs are good. They’re playful. But when you pair them with the flogger and the, um, oversized toy, it startles people. That’s why we keep the toys behind the curtain.”

“Oh, okay!” Penelope said brightly.

“And I like the way you’ve paired the lace and the leather. That’s classic, right? But maybe we should take the feathered-crotch panties out of the mix.”

“Sure. That makes sense.”

“Great. I’m really happy with your taking the initiative. Why don’t you try one more shot at this, and I’ll
have Cairo check it out in the morning. Is there anything else going on?”

“Nah, it’s slow today. Though we did have a bachelorette group in this afternoon. Guess what their total was?”

“How many women were there?”

“Seven.”

Beth tapped her chin, thinking. “How old was the bride?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Oh, that’s a young group. They’re not serious about their vibrators yet. I’ll guess $250.”

“$525!” Penelope squealed.

“Wow. Early learners.”

“I know!”

Beth was laughing as she hurried to her office to fix her makeup and hair. She slipped off her heels and stretched her toes in relief. Heels were standard wear for her, but these expo days were a little long, and there was never any chance to sit down.

But she hadn’t noticed the ache in her feet during the day. She’d been consumed with alternating between staring at Jamie Donovan and trying not to stare at him. He had the most gorgeous ass. And then there were those magic fingers. And she
had
promised to think about it.

Sighing, Beth let her eyes wander to the box of samples that had arrived that morning. She usually set out the box in the supply room for any employees who wanted to try them out, but this week maybe she’d take them all home herself. She needed them more than the other girls anyway. She put the top back on the box and slipped it under her desk just in case.

When her cell phone rang, she jumped in guilty shock, knocking a knee into her desk. “Oh!”

The line screamed static as soon as she answered it. “Hello?”

The static roughened before breaking apart for a moment. “Beth! It’s…”

It was Annabelle. Somewhere in Asia, if Beth recalled correctly. Thailand, maybe? “I’m here!” she yelled.

The static swelled again. “I’ve got…can’t wait…”

“What?”

“So thrilled! …soon…be a big…” Her voice edged up at the end of every word.

“Annabelle. I can’t hear anything you’re saying! What are you so excited about?”

“…idea to…” The static finally went quiet. The line dropped dead.

“Well, crap,” Beth said, collapsing into her chair. Annabelle called only once a month, and she’d never sounded quite so excited. Beth tried to call her back, but the phone just beeped unhelpfully in her ear. There was nothing she could do except get ready for the reception.

After touching up her makeup, Beth took down her conservative updo and brushed out her hair. She stared wearily at the heels for a long time, wondering if she should put on some flats instead. But she slipped the heels back on, knowing exactly why she did it. There was an excellent chance that Jamie Donovan would be at the reception tonight, and she wanted him to notice her.

Stupid. She told herself she wasn’t going to sleep with
him, but damn it, she wanted him to think she was sexy anyway.

Actually… Beth touched the red beaded necklace at her throat and looked down at her shiny red heels. Then she looked at the little closet in the corner of her office, considering the outfits she’d hung there after various store events. Perhaps a little black dress would be better suited for an evening affair.

Or maybe that would just be asking for trouble. Trouble she so desperately needed a taste of in her life.

Oh, what the heck. Maybe she could superimpose a new image over the crazy-eyed Beth she’d left him with yesterday. But the tense arousal that tightened her belly had nothing to do with repairing her image and everything to do with wanting him.

She’d made an awful mistake last night, giving in to her familiar fears. A stupid mistake that she’d spent the past hours regretting. But maybe the perfect opportunity to rectify that mistake would arise. Or maybe the perfect opportunity could be conjured with the right dress.