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  "Are you telling me that guys have been that intimidated by your brains?"

  Yes. But she didn't want to appear pathetically under-dated. "It's possible I'm just choosy." She laid the roses in the bowl, resting the stems on the edge. Maybe she'd start a new flower-arranging trend with this look.

  "You should be choosy." He closed the small distance between them and reached for her. "An incredible woman like you should have her pick."

  She abandoned the roses to snuggle happily into his arms. With Sam, she felt like that kind of woman. This morning he'd begged her to let him see her again. A hundred times today she'd replayed that scene in the Coco's parking lot, impressed that she'd brought him to that state.

  He pulled her in close, close enough to make his arousal obvious. "I don't mean to be pushy, but the flowers are in water and the champagne's in the fridge."

  As her blood heated even more, she wound her arms around his neck. His implication that they should move on to other activities made her shiver with longing. "Would you like a tour of my apartment?"

  "Yes."

  "Then come with me." She slipped out of his arms and took his hand.

  "Don't you think we should blow out the candles before we start the tour?"

  "Oh." She glanced at the ten-inch tapers, which hadn't even burned down an inch yet.

  "We'd better blow them out." Sam walked over to the counter and doused both flames. "And the ones in the living room, too." He turned to her. "I assume the tour of your apartment begins in your bedroom?"

  She wanted him so much her mouth was watering. "Uh-huh."

  "In that case, by the time we remembered the candles, we might have burned the house down."

  * * *

  Sam was developing a fondness for Kasey's endearing lack of sophistication when it came to housewares. She had one cheap vase and no candleholders, judging from the juice-glass-and-masking-tape combo she'd used to support the candles. Even the swaybacked candles had seen better days. Yet he could see her clever mind at work in creating the holders, and she'd attempted to give her place atmosphere. He found that touching.

  Obviously she didn't know that he'd built up such a case of lust for her that atmosphere was wasted on him. As far as he was concerned, they could be anywhere as long as there was a surface that would hold their weight. He ached for her, and nothing mattered except stripping off their clothes and getting horizontal. Actually, vertical would work, too.

  In fact, this hallway she was leading him down would be fine, up against the wall or braced against a doorjamb or on the carpeted floor, for that matter. He was a desperate man with a rocket in his pocket. But maybe he needed to pull back and not appear so needy. He'd scared her off before. He didn't want to do that again.

  She had the masking-tape-and-juice-glass candle arrangement going on in her bedroom, too. In the light from three flickering tapers he saw a double bed with the covers turned down. He liked imagining her in this room a little while ago, folding back the covers and thinking about what they'd do together on the bed.

  A double meant less room to roll around, but it was cozier, in a way. He didn't mind a double bed. He wouldn't mind a sleeping bag thrown on the ground. Beside the bed were a lamp and nightstands of the same vintage as her living-room furniture.

  He might ask her to turn the lamp on before the night was over. She was so beautiful, and he wanted another chance to enjoy the view. He wanted many chances. There were blinds over each of her windows, even in the living room and kitchen. Maybe he could talk her into drinking champagne naked.

  "This is it." She led him into the room. "Nothing fancy."

  "Are you kidding?" He nudged off his shoes as he edged her toward the soft expanse of her bed. "You make any bed fancy."

  "I don't have a king-size mattress."

  "The better to find you, my dear." He pulled her down to the bed and rolled on top of her. "See? Gotcha." Oh, man, this was heaven. With his package nestled between her thighs, he started working her out of her tank top.

  "And I have neighbors on the other side of this wall."

  "Have they ever complained?" He pushed her top up over the lacy cups of her bra. Yes, he wanted some of that.

  "No."

  He was so captivated by the way her breasts swelled beneath the white lace of her bra that her answer took a while to register. He looked into her eyes. "No? You've been that careful not to make noise?"

  "I don't make noise."

  "Oh, yes, you do. You may think you don't, but I've been there, and you definitely make noise. If you've had an orgasm in this bed, I venture to say the neighbors are aware of it."

  She simply looked up at him and said nothing.

  At last a possibility dawned on him. "No orgasms in this bed?"

  Even in the dim light from the candles, her blush showed. "Not that kind."

  "I'm not sure what you mean." Then he figured it out. "Oh. I guess when you make yourself come, you can control the noise level better."

  "Uh-huh."

  "You're blushing." He thought that was the cutest thing, a new-millennium woman who was a little bit embarrassed about the subject of masturbation.

  "I can't help it. I've never talked about this subject with a guy."

  "Good. I want you to talk about it with me." He was enormously pleased to discover something he could share with her that no other man had. "But first raise your arms so I can get rid of this tank top."

  "We don't have to talk about it." She lifted her arms so he could pull the top over her head.

  "But I would love to." He threw the piece of clothing on the floor and slid both hands under her back, groping for the fastening of her bra. That was another thing about her that intrigued him. Most women into seduction wore front-clasp bras, but Kasey hadn't picked up on that trick. He sort of liked that she hadn't.

  "Why would you want to talk about it?"

  "Because." He unhooked her bra and got that off. With a sigh of delight he gazed at her. His memory had served him well, but he'd forgotten the sweet little freckle right there, on the underside of her left breast. He leaned down to kiss it and she quivered.

  So did he. Her skin was so soft. Although he intended to continue the promising discussion they'd recently left, first he needed to spend some time honoring her spectacular breasts. His penis throbbed, reminding him of what he ultimately had to have, but he thought he could hold off a little while longer. And her breasts invited him to play. He really hadn't had his fill the night before.

  Propping himself on one arm, he caressed her, lifting and massaging her breasts while he listened to her breathing change. "When you masturbate, do you touch yourself here?" he asked.

  "Um…"

  "I'll bet you do." He stared into her eyes, which grew darker the longer he caressed her. But she still wore her blue contacts. Before the night was over, he'd coax her to take them out, so he could see the true color of her eyes. "Come on, 'fess up. You play with your breasts."

  Her eyelashes fluttered. "Maybe."

  "You do. I know it, because you like it when I touch you there."

  "Uh … huh."

  "But here's something you can't do for yourself." He cradled the weight of her breast in his hand and leaned down to feather a kiss over her nipple. The firm tip reminded him of a plump raspberry. He liked raspberries, but he'd take this treat over an entire bowlful. He drew her nipple in, then rolled it gently against the roof of his mouth and was rewarded with her soft moan.

  Then he began to suck, loving the sensation, loving the taste of her and the flowery scent swirling around him. She moaned again and arched her hips. Much as he wanted to unzip both his pants and her shorts and take her right then, he had another agenda that would teach him more about Kasey. He wanted to know her better than anyone.

  Releasing her breast with great reluctance, he rolled to his side. Now he had full access to her. He reached for the button on her shorts, unfastened it and pulled down the zipper. When he took them off, he deliberately
left her panties in place.

  "I have… I have condoms," she said in a husky voice.

  "Me, too." He'd stashed several in his pocket, not willing to take a chance they'd be without. "You can never have too many."

  Her answering laughter sounded breathless. "Guess not."

  He slid his hand inside her panties. He had an idea, something that would excite him tremendously, but he didn't think she'd do it unless he left her panties on.

  She was slick and hot, and his pulse hammered as he stroked downward, curving his middle finger so he could probe inside. "Is this how you do it?" He moved his finger slowly, knowing from the way her breath caught that she wasn't too far from a climax.

  "I … sort of."

  He pulled his hand back. "Show me."

  She shook her head, but her eyes glowed with excitement.

  "I want to see. Please."

  "I … can't."

  "Sure you can. Like this." He eased his hand under the waistband of her panties again and found her hot spot. "I would love to see how you make yourself come."

  She groaned. "Please … just…"

  "Dolt for me." Once again he pulled his hand away.

  "I want…"

  "I know. You want to come. Make it happen. Show me."

  She caught her lower lip between her teeth. Then she closed her eyes. Slowly, tentatively she slid her hand down over her stomach. After a slight hesitation, she worked her hand under the elastic band.

  He would give anything to watch this when she was naked, but that might take some time and patience. He'd be grateful for this small concession, something she'd never done for another man. His heart pumped wildly as her hand, outlined by the smooth satin of her panties, began to move in a rhythmic way. With her other hand she stroked her breast and pinched her nipple.

  Damn, he'd better be careful or he'd come right along with her.

  Her lips parted and she gasped. Her movements grew quicker, and then she arched upward with a muted cry.

  Sam watched through a haze of desire. He'd never wanted another woman this much, which told him Kasey could be the one he needed to share his life with. And she'd asked for a no-strings affair. Somehow, someday, he had to convince her otherwise.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  «^»

  By the time Kasey opened her eyes, she'd changed. The shy girl who'd been embarrassed to masturbate in front of a lover had left the building. In her place lay a sexual woman who enjoyed giving herself the extra thrill of having Sam watch. And now she was ready to make her own desires known.

  Slowly she peeled off her panties. "Well? Did you like that?"

  His voice rasped in the stillness. "Yes."

  "Now it's my turn for a fantasy." She sat up. "I want you to lie on your back."

  "Why—" He paused to clear his throat. "Why do you want me to do that?"

  "I want to play. And all the interesting toys are in the front." Ideas came to her like lightning. She knew how she affected Sam. So she'd put him through his paces and revel in her power.

  "All right." He kept his attention on her as he stretched out. "Clothes on or off?"

  "I'll worry about that." She climbed off the bed. "I'll be right back."

  "Where are you going?"

  "You'll see." Discarding her first thought, which was to grab her bathrobe out of the closet, she walked down the hall and through the living room with nothing on. She'd never done that in her life. Tonight it felt perfect.

  She went into the kitchen and flicked on a light. Once she'd opened the refrigerator, she snagged a can of whipped cream and padded back across the kitchen. To think that when she'd bought the whipped cream she'd intended to put it on the chocolate pie she'd brought home from the bakery. Wait a minute—the chocolate pie might come in handy, too.

  Doing an about-face, she returned to the refrigerator and took out the pie. Sam might have a hammock in a private little patio, but she had whipped cream and a chocolate pie. The neighbors were liable to get an earful, but that couldn't be helped. That was apartment living for you. She turned out the kitchen light and headed back to the bedroom … and Sam.

  On the way back down the hall, she called out to him, "Here I come."

  His voice sounded a little bit strained. "How do you mean that, exactly?"

  She laughed. "In the nonsexual sense, this time. This next episode will be about you, not me." She walked through the doorway and noticed from the jut of his fly that the flag was definitely up on his mailbox. "Just don't start without me, okay?"

  His eyes widened. "Whipped cream?"

  "Oh, yeah. And chocolate pie. I missed dessert tonight." She'd missed dinner, too, but who cared?

  "Uh … I see."

  "Maybe you're beginning to. First rule, I'm in charge." She sat beside him on the bed and put the whipped cream and pie on the nightstand.

  "You walked naked through your apartment." With a smile, he reached out to cup her swaying breast.

  She batted his hand away. "No touching me. I get to touch you, now. And yes, I walked naked through my apartment. What of it?"

  "I'll bet you've never done that before."

  "Maybe not."

  "How did it feel?"

  "Good." She began unbuttoning his shirt. "Now hold still."

  "I can't promise a thing."

  "Then hold as still as you can." She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his slacks and spread it open. "There." He had such a great chest, lightly furred with dark hair and muscled enough to be manly without the overdeveloped physique of a professional bodybuilder. It was no wonder the women at Beckworth had spent most of the day watching him trim the mesquite tree.

  Now she had the privilege of enjoying his body all by herself. Gretchen had tried to get her to spill the details of her relationship with Sam, but Kasey had claimed they were only friends. She'd told Gretchen that Sam was now a client and she shouldn't get involved with a client anyway. Gretchen had protested that this particular client would be worth breaking a few rules for.

  Gazing down at Sam, Kasey had to agree with Gretchen. Smoothing her hands down his chest, she gazed into his eyes and watched them darken in reaction to her touch. Then she stroked his arms and lingered on his tattoo. "Why did you get this?" She traced the pattern lightly with one finger.

  "In high school I had a reputation for being too nice."

  "I can believe that." She brushed her palms over his nipples.

  "I thought … I thought a big bad tattoo would help my rep."

  She smiled. He was definitely getting more aroused with every caress. "And did it help your rep?"

  "Oh, yeah. Instant tough guy."

  "I'll bet." She leaned over him and nibbled on his lower lip. "By the way, I have neighbors, but don't worry about making noise."

  "I can control it."

  She trailed kisses along his jaw until her lips were right next to his ear. "We'll see." Then she gently nipped his earlobe. "We'll see about that, tough guy." Then she sat up and reached for the can of whipped cream.

  * * *

  Sam was fascinated by the transformation in Kasey. From the evidence, she'd passed some milestone by making herself come while he looked on. He'd meant to nudge her a little further down the road of sensuality. Apparently he'd launched her onto the superhighway of sexual adventure.

  He wasn't complaining, but he would have to keep his wits about him if he intended to stay in the game. With her brains, she could outpace him in the innovation department in no time. And he was very much afraid that if she ever got bored, she'd be gone.

  She wasn't bored yet, however, because she'd just discovered whipped cream. He gasped when she squirted a mound of the cold white stuff on his nipple. He hadn't thought that his nipples were overly sensitive, but when she started lapping at the whipped cream with her warm tongue, he changed his mind. She licked him clean before zapping the other side. Wild.

  Incredible how her attention to that one little spot had him going. And he
knew exactly what other target she had in mind for that squirt can. But he wasn't quite sure what she planned to do with the pie, or whether he'd survive it without coming in a very loud and spectacular fashion.

  He knew that was her goal, to prove that she could make him lose all control and yell like a banshee. Because he wanted to continue to challenge her, he would fight like hell not to do what she expected. He sensed that the unexpected would keep her interested, and he very much wanted to keep her interested.

  When she finished playing with his nipples, she took off his pants and briefs. He was supposed to lie there and let her undress him, and that was a whole new experience, too, because she wasn't very practiced at it. She fumbled around a lot and kept laughing and brushing her naked body against him. When she bumped his aching penis with her breast, he nearly erupted from that single contact.

  "Are we having fun, yet?" she asked once she'd pulled off his slacks and briefs and dropped them on the floor. "How're you doing down here?" She wrapped her fingers around his shaft.

  "Terrific." He clenched his jaw against the release that pounded at the gates of his self-control, begging him to surrender. He knew she'd pick up that whipped-cream can again, and he wondered how he'd make it through another tongue bath, especially if it involved that rebellious part of his anatomy she held in her hand.

  But instead of the whipped cream, she picked up the pie. His brain stalled just thinking of the possibilities.

  Here he'd been hoping that before the night was over, she'd drink champagne naked. In the past half hour, she'd shot right past that mark and was on to more creative turn-ons.

  "Do you like chocolate pie?" she asked.

  "Sure."

  "Me, too." She stuck two fingers into the center of the pie and lifted out a glob of chocolate filling.

  He fully expected it to end up on some part of him, but instead she started licking it off her fingers.

  "This is very good." She put both fingers in her mouth and sucked on them. Then she scooped up another glob and repeated the process.

  He began to understand her devious plan. She was playing mind games with him, letting him watch her lick and suck her fingers while he imagined what she could do to his penis.