The Dirty Girls Book Club (40 page)

His big body blocked her view of the room, but the increasing noise level told her the guests were beginning to arrive. They should be mingling, but this was more important. A few weeks ago, all she’d cared about was making a success of the VitalSport campaign, but her priorities had changed. “Go on,” she urged.

“I trusted Martin. He was like a father and a business partner wrapped up in one. I trusted him to handle my career, and to handle my finances.”

She nodded.

“Last month”—his voice grated—“he confessed he has a gambling problem. It got so bad that … that he used my money. My investments. He lost everything I’d made in my whole career. I’m even in debt on back taxes.”

“Oh my God!” She gaped up at him. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly. “I was betrayed by the person I trusted the most.”

Now she understood why Woody’d been so quick to leap to the conclusion that another person he’d trusted had betrayed him. “You said this is a secret? But surely you told the police.” Why hadn’t the papers and sports gossip sites jumped on it?

When Woody didn’t reply, she studied his sad face. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t. Despite the bad things he’d done to you, he’d done so many good ones too.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her hand under his, and she felt the warm, reassuring solidity of his arm under his tux jacket and shirt. “And there’s Sam to think of,” he said. “His son. My best friend. It’d shatter him to know what his dad did.”

She nodded thoughtfully, realizing something else. Woody, who hated doing endorsements, had signed with VitalSport so he could pay for his mom’s treatments.

“Besides,” Woody said, “gambling’s an addiction.”

“Yes, but …” Should she say this? “Your father was an alcoholic.” He sighed. “I know. I guess it’s easier to … not forgive, but maybe understand Martin. He was good to me for a long time, before he got into gambling. And even then, it was just money he lost.”

“Addiction isn’t an excuse, though. Being an alcoholic didn’t excuse your dad’s abuse, and being addicted to gambling doesn’t excuse your agent’s fraud.”

He shook his head. “Martin said it was a compulsion and he couldn’t make himself stop. So I said he has to go to Gamblers Anonymous. If he sticks with the program and doesn’t gamble, I won’t turn him in.”

“Oh, Woody.” This time the tears didn’t just threaten; they glazed her eyes. “You’re a good man.”

His brows lifted in apparent surprise. “Yeah?”

She gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah. The way you look after the people you care about.”

His throat rippled as he swallowed. “I didn’t look after you, Georgia. And I do care about you.”

Her heart lifted. “You do?”

A slight smile touched his lips. “If feeling like there’s a hole in my chest when you’re not around is caring, then yeah, I do. A hell of a lot.”

Her own heart filled with warmth. “You feel that way?” she asked tremulously.

“Yeah. For the first time in my life.” He freed the hand he’d trapped, but only to catch both of her hands in his. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Laughter and tears spilled in the same instant. All the defenses she’d erected crumbled and she knew the truth. She loved him too.

Doggedly, he went on. “So I need you to forgive me. To give me a second chance to prove that I—”

“Yes!” Rising on her toes, she cut him off with a quick, hard kiss. “Oh, yes. Because there’s only one explanation for how rotten I’ve been feeling since we broke up. I’m in love with you too.”

All the tiredness and stress left his face, to be replaced by pure joy. Then his arms circled her and his lips met hers in a kiss that, this time, was slow and tender. Loving.

Maybe she should have felt excited, but instead the sensation that flooded through her was peace. Like she’d come home, and all was right with the world.

Finally, she eased back in the circle of his arms.

He smiled at her, and to her astonishment pulled out a white hankie. “You have tear streaks in your makeup.” Tenderly, he wiped her face, the fine cotton soft against her skin. “This’ll get you through until you can make it to the ladies’ room.”

“I wish we could leave and be alone together.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said in a heartfelt tone. “But we’ve got a job to do
here.” Blue eyes gleaming, he added, “Besides, I want to dance with you.”

“You really know how to dance?”

He winked. “Sure. You put your arms around each other tight and you shuffle and sway. Right?”

“Exactly right.”

After lots of schmoozing, a delicious but far too long dinner, and a speech by Woody that made her cry yet again, they finally got that shuffle-and-sway dance. It was pure heaven to be in his arms and know he loved her, but it was agony too. They were in public, no longer hidden in a corner with his back blocking everyone’s view of them, so they couldn’t kiss. She couldn’t press against him, twine around him, untie his bow tie, and press her lips to his warm throat.

She wanted this—the slow, romantic dance—but she wanted it in private.

Easing back in the circle of his arms, she gazed into his gorgeous blue eyes. “You have a game tomorrow.”

His lips twitched. “Yeah, I kind of remember that.”

“Everyone will understand if you leave early. They want you rested and in top form.”

The lip twitch turned into a wicked grin. “And what do you want?”

She met the grin with one of her own. “Oh, I want you in top form too. Come on, you’ve put in your time and done a wonderful job. Let’s make our excuses and go.”

As she’d predicted, the hosts of the event sent Woody on his way with best wishes and a hearty round of fist pumps.

It was a two-minute cab ride to his place, where the elevator
took just as long, but that was okay because Georgia and Woody spent the ride plastered together, kissing.

When they were inside his apartment, he shrugged out of the tux jacket and was reaching up to undo his bow tie when she caught his hand, stopping him. “Oh no, you don’t. Let’s dance some more.”

“You want to
dance
?”

Of course she wanted to make love, but he’d done such a good job of her sexual education that she had an idea or two of her own. “Mm-hmm.” She put on the
Sax for Lovers
music, and held out her hand to him.

Head cocked, he studied her. “You have a plan, don’t you?”

She studied him, elegant yet 100 percent male in the white shirt that set off his tanned skin and the buttoned vest that accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. “Shut up and dance, my love.” Oh my, it felt good to call him that.

Laughing, he pulled her tight, arms hugging her to him. “Can I say one thing first?”

“If it’s nice.” She wrapped her arms around him. Her man. So different from Anthony, and yet so wonderful.

“When I first saw you tonight, you looked beautiful, but the glow on your cheeks was makeup, not happiness.”

She nodded, smiling up at him. “Perceptive guy. And now?” Her smile widened, showing him all the love in her heart. “Do I look happy?”

“Very happy.” Slowly, he began to move. “Same as me.”

If he never learned to dance any step other than the shuffle-and-sway, she wouldn’t complain. Especially when they could do it alone, so she could cling as tightly as she wanted and feel the hard strength of his body underneath those classy clothes.

“Last week,” he said, “when you were reaming me out, you said you had everything to give to a man, but that man wasn’t me.”

She nodded. “I knew what it was like to love and be loved, and I wouldn’t settle for less.”

“It’s what you deserve. It’s what I want to give you.”

“Tell me again,” she wheedled.

“I love you, Georgia Malone.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

“Me too. But you’re going to have to teach me about love. You’ve been there before, but it’s new to me.”

It dawned on her that, while he’d taught her about her own femininity and sexuality, she’d taught him how to love. She’d taught this incredible man, this man so many women lusted after, to love. “We’ll work it out together,” she promised.

“If I start acting like a jerk again, just, oh—”

“Whack you with a hockey stick?” she teased.

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

Both chuckling softly, they swayed together. It was romantic and sweet, but the hard press of his body was arousing, reminding her that she’d had a plan. An excellent plan. She tilted her hips, serving notice.

There was already a bulge behind his fly, and now it grew.

When they’d danced at the Four Seasons, it had been torture not being able to squeeze his taut butt or cup her hand over the erection pressing against the fly of those beautifully styled tux pants. Now, as they shuffled in place in his living room, the lights of sky and city through those huge windows the only illumination, she could do everything she wanted.

She started by reaching up and tugging on his bow tie. “Viv has great taste. She picks clothes that suit the person.”

“I could lose the tie.”

“You could.” She worked the knot free, but rather than pull the strip of silk off, she left it hanging loose at his neck and admired her handiwork. “Rakish.” She smiled a private smile because the word
reminded her of Lady Emma’s rake. Georgia had compared Woody to him, but Woody had so much more depth. The Comte had indeed been stuck, whereas Woody was willing to change, to mature. He would always be interesting, stimulating.

Stimulating, in every way. Right now, the slow stroke of his hand down her semi-bare back, while not blatantly erotic, was so sensual it made her quiver. His touch was like the physical embodiment of that sultry sax music.

She unbuttoned his vest, leaving it to hang loose. From there, she moved to the studs of his tuxedo shirt, starting at the collar and working down, letting her nails scrape gently. The hard, hot flesh of his chest burned her fingertips and sent arousal tingling through her. When she reached his waist, she tugged the shirttails free of his tuxedo pants and unbuttoned his shirt down to the bottom. Then she parted the sides of his shirt and vest, revealing a strip of brown skin.

She peeled the left side back and put her lips to his chest, feeling his heart thud beneath her kiss. He smelled of herbal soap and tasted slightly salty. She sucked his nipple until he groaned and thrust his hips against her.

Oh, that felt good, the hard thrust of his erection against her belly. She wanted him so badly, but tonight she wanted to go slow and savor every moment.

“Do I get to undo your clothes?” he asked.

“Not yet. I’m teaching you patience.” And learning it herself.

He laughed. “Good luck with that. Didn’t you learn that first day, I’m not so good with patience when it comes to you?”

“Yes, but I know you’re trainable. Still, if you’re really in a rush …” Her hands moved to the waist of his pants. She knew he expected her to undo the button and unzip the fly, and she was sorely tempted. Instead, she tracked her finger down the front of his fly, pressing against the insistent bulge beneath the fine fabric.

Her sex pulsed with need, and the ache between her thighs made it hard to keep shuffling in place.

She slid her hand into his pocket, intending to grasp him through the even thinner fabric. Her fingers encountered something else, though. Something she well recognized. A condom package. She drew it out and held it up. “You came prepared. You were so sure you’d win me over?” Should she be flattered or insulted?

He shook his head. “No, it’s habit.” A pause. “Look, I need to confess.”

“Okay,” she said warily.

“I hoped that when I saw you tonight, I’d realize I didn’t have special feelings for you.”

Her mouth opened. That definitely wasn’t flattering.

“But when I saw you, it hit. Like lightning. Illumination and shock all at once.”

Okay, that was better. “Sounds painful,” she teased.

“Yeah, and especially when I thought you didn’t feel the same way. But I decided I just had to win you.”

“You do like to win, don’t you? I’m afraid I made it too easy. What’s the fun in that?”

“This. This is the fun.” He dropped his hands to her butt, cupped it, and squeezed.

“Yes, it is.” A thought struck her, and it halted her feet. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

She gazed into his eyes. “We’re talking about exclusivity?”

His brows pulled together. “Damn right. We love each other.”

Relieved, she said, “Good. But I had to ask. You’re the guy with condoms tucked in every nook and cranny, just in case an opportunity presents itself.”

“Love those opportunities.” He winked. Then he touched her cheek. “But from now on, they’ll all be with you.”

Oh, yes. She slipped her hands around his neck and pulled his
head down for a lingering kiss that curled her toes and dampened her sex. “Then let’s scrap the condoms. I’m on the pill because I have problems with irregular periods.”

Something intense and primitive darkened his eyes. “Hell, yeah. I’ve never done that before.”

He’d given her her first orgasm, and she would give him his first truly naked sex. No, more than that—she’d give him his first true lovemaking.

Now. She’d had enough of dancing, at least standing up. She tossed the condom on the floor and reached up to grab both ends of Woody’s unfastened bow tie. “I want you now. Naked in bed.”

“Not complaining, but what happened to patience?”

“I’ve run out.” She stepped away from him, keeping her hands on the ends of his tie and tugging him toward her as she backed across the room, heading for the bedroom. “Some other night, we’ll be patient. Now I want you inside me.”

“Man, I like it when you talk that way. Tell me what else you want.”

Oh yes, a woman
could
have it all. Sex
and
love with an amazing man. She could be a dirty girl, a sexy woman, a loving partner.

In the bedroom, she said, “Shoes off, socks off.”

As she spoke, he obeyed.

“I like this,” she said. “My own personal sex slave.” She deliberated. “Vest next, and shirt.”

He was laughing as he followed instructions, but when she said, “Now your pants, but leave your underwear on,” she saw how turned on he was.