Let Me Count The Ways (12 page)

Derek’s reaction was just what I hoped it would be. A carnal grin lit up his face just as the phone on my desk began to ring. “That so? And here I always thought your favorite part was when I...”

“Hold that thought,” I said, waving him to silence as I picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Good morning, beautiful lady.” Mike’s voice poured through the phone like a river of dark, melted chocolate, coating each and every nerve I had with sweet, sweet longing. “What are you doing?”

I smiled. Oh, if only I’d been alone. I knew just what my response to his question would have been then. My hand would already be reaching between my legs. I’d be closing my eyes and murmuring dark words back to him. Between us we’d spin out a lush, forbidden fantasy...

But I wasn’t alone. Was I?

I cleared my throat. “Actually, I’m kind of in a meeting right now.” Angling my chair so that I was no longer face to face with Derek, I asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I was just wondering--I mean, if you’re not doing anything, I thought--Would you like to go out tonight?”

He couldn’t be serious? I felt like someone had just thrown a glass of ice water in my face. Tonight? As in
last minute, no advance notice, aren’t you glad I called because you couldn’t possibly have had anything else planned for this evening
? That tonight?
I don’t think so.

“Mmm, no, sorry, I’m afraid that timing doesn’t work for me. I have a prior engagement.”

“Okay, how about tomorrow then?”

I gritted my teeth. “Still not so good.” Even with my back to him, I’d swear I could feel Derek’s I-told-you-so grin mocking me. Damn him for putting ideas in my head. I mean, what was the big deal? So Mike called at the last minute, isn’t that exactly the kind of thing friends did? But, smug, Derek had called him and that’s just how it felt to me now too. Mike was acting way too sure of having me. My own fault, of course, but still not acceptable. “My weekend is all booked up.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in Mike’s voice was palpable. “That’s too bad.”

I found myself nodding agreement. It really was too bad, because I
did
want to see him. “I could maybe make time on Tuesday,” I said, relenting a little. There was no point in spiting myself altogether.

“After work?”

“Mm-hm. That sounds about right.”

“Great. So, did you want me to come by and pick you up there, or...?”

“Why don’t you call me Tuesday morning? We’ll discuss details then. I can’t really talk right now.”

“You really
are
in a meeting, aren’t you?” The surprise in Mike’s voice made me laugh.

“Of course I am. Didn’t I say so?”

“Yes, but I thought...” Mike’s sigh was audible even over the phone. I could just imagine him shaking his head. “Okay. I’m sorry. Never mind what I thought. Is everything okay?”

“Certainly. Everything’s fine.”

“Okay then, I guess... I guess I’ll talk to you Tuesday.”

“Sounds good,” I murmured, spinning my chair back to face the desk. “Bye now.”

I returned the phone to its holder and looked up to find Derek observing me quietly.

I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m still waiting for you to tell me what’s up with you and the accountant.”

“His name’s Mike,” I snapped, irritated with both of them, and myself as well. “You know that as well as I do. Quit calling him ‘the accountant’. You make him sound like some kind of second-rate mob enforcer.”

Derek smirked, but said nothing.

“Why the sudden interest in my sex life, Derek? No, don’t tell me. Trouble in paradise? Already? Or are you just annoyed that I’ve found someone to replace you?”

A dull red stained Derek’s cheekbones as he stood, signaling our little chat was at an end. At least I’d shut him up, though not for long.

“Cheap shots, Claire,” he muttered, obviously trying to rein in his anger. He shook his head sadly. “I was just looking out for you, all right? I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

Again
. He didn’t say that, but he might as well have. I nodded, accepting the sentiment, even if it
was
a little late in coming. Our affair had ended amicably. That didn’t mean the breakup had been painless, it just meant I’d never admit to the fact. As a face saving strategy, I thought it worked well for both of us. And I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to spoil things by arguing with him about it now.

I smiled, willing to forgive and forget. “I appreciate that, Derek. I do. I just don’t understand the reason for your concern.”

“Why wouldn’t I be concerned, Claire? I’m your friend. And I know you. You’re not as tough as you like to pretend.”

Oh, please. “How tough do I have to be, Derek? He’s an accountant. You know what they’re like.”

Derek sighed. “Okay. Whatever. You’ll do what you want, I guess. Just remember, I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, really meaning it. “For everything.”

After Derek left, I thought about what he’d said. Yes, he knew me, but not nearly as well as he thought he did. Our affair had been fun. I’d loved being seen with him, loved the boost it gave my battered ego to know I could still attract someone that young, that desirable. Someone who didn’t view me as simply a convenient vehicle to advance his career. We’d been ‘friends with benefits’. Maybe that was all he wanted from our relationship or maybe it was all he’d been able to offer. Either way, I told myself it didn’t matter because that was all I wanted too--not just from him, but from anyone.

After six failed marriages, I was through with getting serious. It was a good idea, marred by just one fatal flaw: I hadn’t really meant it. I hadn’t yet learned my lesson. I hadn’t yet learned to stay detached. Now, I had.

Mike

I had just finished dinner Saturday evening and was clearing up in the kitchen when my phone rang. Afraid it might slip through my wet hands, I tucked it against my shoulder while I finished drying them. I nearly dropped it anyway when the sound of Claire’s breathy murmur reached my ears. “Michael. What are you doing?”

“I--uh,
hi
,” I replied, stammering as I tried to catch my breath. “I’m, I’m well, I’m washing dishes, actually.”

“Oh.” Silence. And then, “So, um...are your hands all slippery wet now?”

I felt myself frown. “What?”

“Are your hands
wet
,” she repeated slowly, emphasizing the last word. “You know, slick and dripping with... soap?”

“Uh, no, not--I just dried them, why?”

More silence, this one followed by a heavy sigh. “Okay, let’s try this again. What are you wearing?”

Did she just--What am I
wearing
? “What are
you
wearing?” I asked cautiously.

“I... am wearing... a gown,” she answered slowly, her voice ripe with suggestion. “A loooong, white gown made of very soft, sheer silk.”

“Are you?” I asked, blinking in astonishment. Had she really called just to seduce me over the phone?

“I am. And, mmmm, I wish you could feel how soft it is, how... sheer.”

Smiling now, I took the bait, “How sheer is it?”

“Oh, so very sheer, Mike, you can’t imagine. It’s like the softest, sheerest, tissue-thin fabric in the world, and, I think, if it got even the slightest bit wet...”

“What would happen? Would it turn invisible?”

“Oh, yessss. I’m so afraid it would.”

“Ahh.” Clutching the phone in my hand now, I braced my other fist on the counter and closed my eyes, the better to imagine it. Phantom Claire shimmered into view, a seductive smile on her face. “Claire?”

“Yes, Michael?”

“I’ve just put my hands back into the sink.”

“Have you?”

“Yes,” I said, elaborating on the lie. “I accidentally dropped the towel into the water while we were talking and when I reached in to get it my hands got wet, all over again.”

A soft sigh escaped her. “Uh-oh.”

“Come closer,” I whispered. “Let me feel your gown. I want to see how soft it is.”

“It’s so soft, Mike, but your hands--if you touch me now...”

“Where, Claire? Where should I touch you?”

“My breasts,” she answered promptly. “If you put your hands on my breasts...”

“Are you imagining it? How does it feel when I do that? Tell me.”

“Sooo good. But, ohhh, I can feel the water soaking right into the front of my gown.” She gave a startled gasp. “Oh, no, it’s all wet! You can see...”

“Everything, can’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see your nipples through the wet fabric?”

“They look like they’re about to poke right through the material. They’re so hard.”

“They’re dark against the white fabric, aren’t they? I bet they look like little pebbles. I can’t help but run my fingers across the front of your gown to feel them, standing so stiffly at attention.”

“Mmm, your hands are so warm and...”

“No,” I corrected quickly. “They’re cold.”

“What?” I could hear the surprise in her voice. It made me smile. “Why cold?”

“I was interrupted by your call, remember? The water in the sink grew cold while we were talking.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, so it’s
my
fault you’re cold?”

“Yes. It’s all your fault. Now my hands are like ice. And as I fondle your breasts, you start to shiver.”

“Do I?”

“You beg me to help you. You ask me to please get you out of your wet clothes and warm you up.”

“And will you?”

“Of course. I’ve already started. I’ve stripped you to the waist and now I’m gently blowing on your nipples to warm them.”

“Mmm, that’s nice. I love to feel your mouth on me. But why did you stop?”

“I didn’t. Now I’m circling your nipples with my tongue, first one, then the other. They’re growing even harder now. They look little cherries so ripe and sweet, I can’t resist taking one into my mouth.”

“No, I mean, why didn’t you finish undressing me?”

“Oh.” I had to pause for a moment and decide how far I wanted to go with this. How much of my true feelings should I reveal? “I like seeing you this way,” I admitted. “With your clothes in disarray and your hair tumbling in your face. It’s like you... well, it’s like you’d let me have you any way I wanted. Like you’re so hot for me, you just can’t wait, not even until you’re all the way naked.”

“Ahh. Slutty. I see.”

“No,” I snapped, much more sharply than I’d intended. “That’s not what I’m saying.” She’d touched a nerve with her teasing. What I’d just described was so similar to the first time we’d made love; both of us too hot, too hurried to undress. The fact that she could be that passionate for me still seemed miraculous. To have that mocked...

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled contritely, reminding me that the silence had become uncomfortably long.

“It’s all right.” In an effort to restore the teasing tone we’d lost, I added. “But if you use language like that again, I might have to spank you.”

“You what?” She sounded scandalized, amused... curious. “Michael! Stop it. You would
not
.”

I felt myself smiling. At the shock. At the curiosity. At the hint of interest, the hint of challenge in her tone. At all of it, really. “Don’t tempt me like that, Claire.”

“And why not?”

“Because I just might have to do it.”

“You would? You’d actually...”

“Yes. Under the right circumstances, I most definitely would. With pleasure.”

“I see. Exactly what circumstances would those be?”

“If it was what you wanted me to do to you.”

“What
I
wanted?”

“Of course.”

“Hmph. And, for some reason, you think
I
would... would ever--?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

Claire was silent for way too long. I could almost feel her hesitation and I held my breath as I waited to learn how she would answer.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “You know, Michael, I do believe there might be several other ways in which I might... atone... for my bad behavior.”

“That’s entirely possible. What did you have in mind?”

“Well... I could kiss you, for starters. All over your body.”

“All over? Would I be naked?”

“Entirely,” she purred, sending chills racing over my skin.

“Okay. Where would you start?”

“Wherever you wanted me to.”

“How about my mouth?”

“A classic choice. Is that where you’d like me to start?”

“Kiss me like you did the other night, when I brought you home,” I told her, freeing my cock from my shorts and leaning back against the counter.

“Ahh.” A soft laugh escaped her. “Liked that, did you?”

“Yes,” I admitted, taking myself in hand and beginning to stroke slowly up and down my shaft. “Very much.”

“Well, I’m going to kiss you just like that and then I’m going to nibble on your lips, very lightly, just because I can. Because I know you won’t do a thing to stop me and because I can’t resist. You taste so good, Mike, I just want to eat you all up.”

I think I groaned aloud because she laughed again even more softly.

“Do you want to know what I think you’ll be doing while I take your mouth like that?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “I think you’ll be clenching your hands at your sides, struggling not to grab hold of my head and kiss me back.”

My hand faltered. I was surprised at how well she seemed to know me. “Probably.”

“Have I mentioned how much I like that? The way you frame my face with your hands and kiss me like you can’t ever get enough?”

“I can’t,” I told her, then asked. “What will you do next?”

“Next I’ll kiss your throat. Then your shoulders. You have such broad shoulders that it will take a very long time.”

“Keep going,” I muttered, stroking harder.

“I’ll trace the pulse at the base of your neck with my tongue and then start on your chest. Your hair tickles my nose and scrapes against my cheek as I move lower.”

I swallowed hard. “Sorry about that.”

“No, I like it. It makes my skin feel alive.”

Good to know
, I thought, sending up a silent prayer of gratitude and wonder. How had I gotten so lucky?