Naturally Naughty - Leslie Kelly [44]
His expression told her he could, too. So do it.
“But not tonight, Kate. Not now.” He straightened and stepped back. “Definitely not here.”
Once she was able to think again—once her heart started beating again—she told herself it didn’t matter, that she had never planned to have sex with him tonight anyway. And he was right, she couldn’t imagine a worse place to have sex with Jack Winfield than in the same house where their parents had probably spent intimate time together.
She flipped off the vibrator. “Sure.” After tightening the towel around her chest, she slid off the counter. “Look, maybe I wasn’t playing nicely. Maybe I was being unfair, trying to pay you back a little for not calling.”
“I figured as much. And I’m sorry.”
He didn’t try to explain. Made no effort to tell her what had happened, what had changed between that night in the theater and two days later when he hadn’t called her.
She couldn’t ask him, of course. She instead relied on false bravado. “It really doesn’t matter. I got what I wanted. A little payback.” She glanced down at his body, making them both fully aware of his need for her. Then she smiled seductively.
“You go back to bed. Alone.” Stepping closer to walk around him and out the door, she continued. “While I go back to bed, too. With the mental image of a shirtless Hugh Jackman.” Holding up her hand, she glanced at the vibrator.
“And this.”
7
JACK SLEPT LATE the next morning. That wasn’t a big surprise since he’d lain awake in her bed until at least 5:00 a.m., wondering what she was doing. If she was touching herself. If she ached, the way he did. He’d listened for hours, torturing himself, waiting to see if she’d cry out when she came, as she had the night in the theater.
He wasn’t sure if he ever heard her cry out, or if he just imagined the cries of ecstasy throughout the long night hours.
Enough of that.
Rising, he pulled on some jeans, then walked down the short hallway to the master bedroom. Though the door was partially open, he knocked quietly in case she was still asleep. When there was no answer, he glanced in and saw the stripped bed.
Kate hadn’t slept in her mother’s old room.
Curious, he went downstairs and saw the pile of folded linens and a pillow on the living room sofa. Hearing a voice through the thin wall, he stepped out onto the patio and walked over to the open door of the adjoining duplex.
Kate was inside, talking on a cell phone, sounding more than a little irritated. “Look, the power was supposed to be turned on yesterday. I have my confirmation numbers, you already charged my credit card, so why am I sitting in the dark, sweaty, and unable to take a shower this morning?”
He couldn’t imagine how she could be dirty after the endless shower she’d taken the night before. She looked fresh and chipper, dressed in tight jean shorts and another of those flimsy, sleeveless tank tops. Red and wicked, it hugged her curves and made his heart skip a beat. There’d obviously been no sleepless night for her. She’d probably slept like a baby with her play toy clipped to her finger, her hand curled in her lap.
“Yes, I know it’s a Saturday,” she continued. “But please try to get someone out here this morning.”
Jack would be willing to pay any after-hour fees the company might charge if it meant getting her into her own place by that night. No way could he take another night like the previous one.
“Problems?”
She almost dropped the phone when she heard his voice. “Hi. Yes, problems. The power company’s as efficient as ever around here. They lost the work order to get the electricity back on for me before yesterday.”
Without waiting for an invitation, he entered the living room of the small house. It was a mirror image of the one next door, though held not a stick of furniture. “You never did tell me why you’re here, anyway. I had the impression visiting Pleasantville