Authors: Jasmine Haynes

Tags: #Romance, #Erotica, #Fiction

Show and Tell (22 page)

BOOK: Show and Tell

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Demetrius beamed, a dimple flashing at one side of his mouth. “I’ll tell Mama.” And he rushed away to do just that.

The familiar hardening of Scott’s cock took over. She made everything a sensual experience. He wanted to partake of so much more, though even he had to admit the lamb smelled damn good.

She sliced a small bite, relished it a long moment, then bit her bottom lip and moaned. Just as she did when she touched herself. “You were right about this place.”

His mouth watered and not for the food. “Try this.” He held out a forkful of moussaka.

Wrapping her fingers around his wrist, she guided his fork to her lips. First, she drew in the scent. “Ooh.” Then she tested with the tip of her tongue. As if she were licking at a drop of his come. “Mmm.”

She made him hard and his briefs wet. He couldn’t take much more.

His wrist still captured in her grip, she slid the fork into her mouth, lids half closed, as if she were taking his cock between her lips. Then she moaned as if the meat were caviar.

“I’m not sure which.” Helping herself to another bite right off his plate, she murmured, “I still think the lamb.” She carved a piece, glanced at him, then instead of spearing it with her fork, she picked the bit up in her fingers, and motioned him.

He ate from her fingers, her skin smooth, supple, scented with lotion. Taking the lamb in his mouth, he sucked her finger as she pulled away. The lamb was fine, but she was so much more tasty.

Watching him, her eyes deepened to ocean blue.

“That was so fucking good,” he murmured, and they both knew he didn’t mean the lamb. He’d kill to have her for dessert.

Her pulse fluttered at her throat. Then she put her hand to his shoulder and pushed him back in his seat. “You,” she whispered, “need to stay over there.” She licked clean the finger he’d sucked. “Or Mr. Demetrius will have us arrested.”

“Let’s go now.” He meant every word.

She arched one brow. “I can’t miss my lamb.”

Fuck her lamb, he wanted to say. She was a tease. He loved it. He’d let her tease him all night. In the end, she’d be his.

“Okay, here’s what’s on my mind. I’ve got this friend.”

The abrupt change threw him. He’d been in orgasmic heaven. Yet if he wasn’t careful, he’d overload right at the table. “So, you have a friend.” He drew in a deep breath, tamping down his excitement for the moment. Everyone had a friend by the same name as their own. “And your friend’s in trouble?”

“Not
trouble
, per se.” She groaned over a bite of potato. She’d make him nuts before the meal was over. “It’s just that she, my friend”—she glanced at him through her lashes—“has family issues going that she doesn’t quite know how to handle.”

Hence the tense comment about not needing another daddy. “And you want my advice?” Somehow, the fact that she asked his opinion was almost as pleasurable as eating from her fingers.

She speared a grilled cherry tomato, raising it to her lips to lick away the juice before she popped it in her mouth. Did she know how she affected him?

“I want to see if your advice is the same as my advice.” She tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

“Why don’t you tell me the story?” His heartbeat pulsing in his ears, he added a chaser of wine to his bite of moussaka.

“Well, it’s complicated, but her brother did something wrong that reflected badly on her father.” She shot another gaze through her lashes. “Professionally speaking, that is.”

“Was it something illegal?”

Her sudden nervousness came out in the way she toyed with her food instead of attacking it with her former gusto. “It was more unethical than illegal.”

“I’m assuming her father found out and . . .” He raised an eyebrow in query.

“Well.” She paused, then rushed on as if afraid he wouldn’t understand. “She loves them both and hates seeing them at odds, but her father was so disappointed he won’t talk to his son now.” Cutting a bit of lamb, she chewed longer than necessary.

“Let me guess the next item on the agenda. The son wants his sister to intercede with their father.”

She looked straight at him and gaped slightly. “How’d you know?”

“I figure out the mystery before the end of the movie.”

She laughed. “And annoyingly, you reveal it, just so everyone knows you’re right.”

He liked the smile back on her face, but a slight ache beat against his heart. He hadn’t watched a movie since Lexa and Brooke were home for Christmas. On his own, he didn’t bother, working instead. “My girls hate that.” He quirked his mouth in a half smile. “But I’m always right.”

“Remind me
never
to watch a movie with you.”

He imagined how good it would feel to have her folded in his arms watching movies on his rarely used big-screen TV. The simple things were as hot as sex. “How about a sexy thriller?”

She eyed him.

“So, your friend’s brother,” he said to clear away the strange urge, “what did you tell her?”

“I haven’t told her anything yet.” Instead of playing with her meal, she set her fork down and her hands disappeared beneath the table. “What would you suggest if you were her friend?”

“He did something unethical, if not illegal, and somehow compromised her dad’s position.” His elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers. “He’s obviously made a big mistake, and if he’s asking his sister to talk to his father, then I’d say he hasn’t learned his lesson yet.”

“You don’t think so? What if he wrote to their father, who tore the letter up without reading it?”

“Then I’d have to ask if her father told her that or her brother did. Because whatever he says is suspect.”

She gazed over his shoulder, studying either the painting of an old Greek sailor or something deep inside her mind. “You’re right,” she whispered. “You have to learn your own lessons, and you’ll make lots of mistakes along the way, but you’ll come out better in the end.” She tipped her head. “Won’t you?”

He wondered what mistakes she’d made. Her marriage? He sure as hell knew about making
that
mistake. Had he learned his lesson out of the dissolution of his own marriage? He was still a workaholic. Sure, right now his little Jezebel came first, but if he actually had a relationship, would it go the way of his marriage? Late nights, broken dates, business before pleasure. He recalled a time or two he’d shortchanged the girls, chosen a business need over a school play or a soccer game.

Yet the girls were still the most important thing in the world. “Yeah. You learn from your mistakes if you recognize they were your mistakes and fix them yourself.” He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Which is a damn sight harder than asking your sister to do it for you.”

She blinked, gazing at him with troubled blue eyes, and he couldn’t tell a thing about what she saw.

Until her mouth curved in the slightest of smiles. “I think I should tell my friend to let her brother handle it himself.”

“I think you should, too.”

“Thanks.” Then she graced him with a high-wattage smile, and his heart turned over in his chest.

“Problem solved,” she whispered.

He had a feeling he was stepping into a whole new problem. In addition to lusting after her, he now admired her family loyalty and caring nature. What the hell was his next emotion about her going to be? And how much would it cost him?

SCOTT was a like a Xanax fix. Not that she’d taken Xanax, but she imagined the semi-euphoric rush in her blood was exactly how Xanax would feel.

His hand clasped around hers as he walked her back to her car was big, solid, protective. He held onto her despite the fact that the street was empty, or maybe because of it. They were much more alone than earlier, at the mercy of a mugger, but San Jose’s financial district was clean, well lit, and she’d seen a couple of cop cars cruising. She’d buttoned her sweater against the chilly night, but she could have stayed warm all the way through with the touch of Scott’s hand.

It was his advice that gave her the Xanax fix, though. She’d used the “friend” excuse so it wouldn’t seem like she was getting
too
personal, and granted, Scott hadn’t solved her problems, but it felt good to talk about it. She’d been on edge all day, wondering what to do about Lance, how to approach Daddy, not to mention that horrible lunch with the girls. Except for Christina, they’d chattered amongst themselves as if she weren’t there. When she’d tried to engage them, they’d ignored her or talked over her. There were two camps on the AP/AR battlefield, and they’d clearly chosen Inga’s.

But that was another matter. For now, she felt satisfied with letting Lance take care of his own issues. She’d advise him on how to make things better, but doing it was up to him.

Steering her to the elevators, Scott punched the button. They’d parked in the underground garage beneath his office building. When the doors closed, he drew in her, sliding an arm across her back. “Come home with me.”

Her heart pitter-pattered. “No.”

His mouth quirked in his familiar devilish smile. “Yes.”

“
No
means no.”

Tightening his arm, he rubbed his erection against her. “I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to.”

She wanted him to do a lot. She imagined she wouldn’t even want to get out of bed until morning. Scott was a dangerous man. She could start wanting
more
. She could start feeling the need to don her Trinity debutante mask, acting the perfect little lover so he wouldn’t run away.

When he tried to hold her in the elevator, she dragged him out into the car park. “I am not going to your house.” It was too . . . intimate. She would see how he lived. She would know more about him. She’d
want
to know more about him.

“You’re a hard woman.”

She couldn’t resist running her hand across the front of his slacks. “You’re a hard man.”

He groaned. “Tease.” He stopped her as they approached his car. “Come home and watch a movie.”

“Hah.” She clucked her tongue at him. “You’ll probably put on something X-rated and get all randy.”

“I don’t have any X-rated movies.” He crossed his heart. It was endearing. “Wouldn’t want my daughters to accidentally come across them and think their dad’s a perv.”

She giggled. “Their dad
is
a perv.”

Leaning back against the rear hatch of his car, he reeled her in until she was once again plastered to his body. “Only with you,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair.

Despite her heels, she still felt small in his arms. God, she adored his height. He was so, so dangerous to her equilibrium.

“Come home.” His voice seduced her, his body melted her.

She wanted to do exactly as he asked. “Why don’t you show me your office instead?” That was relatively safe.

BOOK: Show and Tell

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