Unzipped? (6 page)

“But I don’t like pushy women.”

“Then you sure must not like me much!” She flashed another grin at him.

“Not true,” he said seriously. “I like you a lot. Even though you’re a fashion bully.”

“Well, thanks, Hal. I like you, too.” She touched his arm. The muscle jumped under her fingers. “You’ve been a pretty good sport about this.”

He moved away. “I didn’t expect to like you,” he said suddenly.

She sucked in a quick breath. “Why?”

“You’re too…gorgeous…to be nice.”

H
E MAY AS WELL
have slapped her. Shannon stared at him for a long moment before she grabbed one of the overstuffed black bags and started pulling it toward his bedroom door. The same old issues followed her wherever she went, it seemed.

I swear to God I’m going to get a prescription for Rogaine and use it to grow a mustache. I’m going to eat fried food and chocolate until nobody sees me under the fat.

She sighed. Who was she kidding? She was just as much caught in the trap as anybody else, trained from birth to cultivate her looks for attention.

“Hey,” Hal called after her. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. And let me take that, it’s too heavy for you.”

She ignored him and continued to drag the bag, pulling it along his hardwood floors with a
whoosh.
She was upset enough about his comment that she dropped all pretense of professional demeanor.

“A lot of people assume that I can’t be a nice person, and I hate it. Do you know how few close friends
I have? Two. I have two—my business partners, Jane and Lilia, whom I’ve known since we were all eight, with snaggleteeth and braids. Other than that I have hundreds of acquaintances.”

“Shannon—”

“I feel eyes boring into me everywhere I go, measuring, assessing, comparing.”

“I never thought about that.”

“Why is it that because I look a certain way—” she turned and asked the question quietly, without heat “—everyone assumes that I’m deficient in every other department? That I’m stuck-up, or stupid, or shallow or useless?”

“They’re jealous,” he told her. “That’s all.”

She dropped the bag and put her hands on her hips, breathing fast. “You’re not jealous! Unless you’re telling me that you’re a closet drag queen. But you just judged me the same way.”

“I didn’t,” he insisted. “I’m wary, that’s all. Your looks are…intimidating. You seem like a being from some Planet of Perfection, where there are no flaws.”

“Planet of…?” Speechless, she let her hands drop to her sides. “That’s nuts. Look, I have huge feet, and a big ugly mottled birthmark on my thigh, and flabby upper arms. I go to the bathroom, same as everybody else. I’m not manufactured by Mattel!”

“Hey,” said Hal. “Calm down.” He put a soothing hand between her shoulder blades and rubbed. Normally she hated being touched, but he did it to comfort, to relax, and not to grab or own. She didn’t move away.

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to take out my issues on you, of all people. You’re my client.”

“It’s been a long afternoon. Would you like a beer? I wish I had wine to offer, but…”

“I’d love a beer, thanks.”

Hal went to the stainless steel refrigerator in the kitchen and she followed. It was the cleanest kitchen she’d ever seen: obviously unused.

“You don’t cook much, do you?”

“Nope.” He handed her a cold green bottle after twisting the cap off.

“Thank you. Did you just move into this place?” She took a sip and felt the pleasantly bitter bubbles spread over her tongue before heading down her throat.

He nodded. “About a month ago. My accountant kept nagging me about how I was pouring money down the drain by renting, and how I needed the tax write-off from a house.” He put his own bottle to his lips and she noticed again how beautifully shaped they were. They formed an ironic quirk in his face, saved his blue eyes from being angelic. Hal might not be a sophisticated man-about-town, but she knew that he was no angel. Angels didn’t make love the way he did. Have sex. Whatever.

She took a swig of beer to distract herself from that train of thought, because she was starting to want to jump him again.

“So I obviously struck a nerve,” Hal ventured.

She began to peel the label off her beer bottle. “Yeah.”

“Sorry. I guess we all carry around our pasts and the ideas we form from them. Most of the really pretty girls in my past were stuck-up. They knew they were beautiful and they used it. Unfortunately you remind me of one of them.”

“And she wasn’t nice?”

He raised his own beer bottle to his lips and drank from it. “Definitely not.”

“To you in particular?”

“Yeah.”

“What did she do?”

“You really want to know?”

Shannon nodded.

“Samantha Stanton. That was her name. Gorgeous. She used to wheedle my trig homework out of me and copy it before class. Stupid me, I let her. Then she wanted me to pass her test answers and I wouldn’t play ball. So Sam got even.

“Around prom time she lied and said she’d broken up with her boyfriend—would I take her? Part of me was suspicious. I mean, why would a varsity cheerleader want the chess club nerd to take her to prom? But another part of me, probably my dick, believed her.

“So I rented a cheesy tux and shiny plastic shoes, slicked my hair back and bought a corsage. Showed up on her doorstep.”

He stopped and shook his head. Took another swig of beer.

Shannon waited.

“The front door of her palatial home opens, and it’s a whole preparty. Half the football team, her boyfriend, all of her snotty girlfriends and cheerleader buddies. And they all fall down laughing at me, the dork on the doorstep who thought he had a chance in hell of taking Samantha to the prom.”

Shannon sucked in her breath in horror.

“I was so humiliated I could barely breathe.”

“What did you do?”

Hal shrugged. “I left. I thought about putting sugar in her gas tank. I thought about a lot of things. Used to dream about revenge…especially when the crank calls came late at night. She and her friends used to think it was funny to talk dirty to me. Get the nerd all hot and bothered and hang up on him. I guess the idea was to leave me with a big boner for their entertainment. Nice, huh? Those were the days before caller ID.”

“I’m so glad I remind you of this girl. Sheesh.”

“Actually, Sam’s not such a looker anymore.” Hal grinned. “I didn’t actually attend my high school reunion, but I hear she’s now the size of a whale, has three horrific kids by her high school boyfriend and he’s a deadbeat drunk.”

“What goes around comes around,” said Shannon.

“Seems like it,” he agreed.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then she said, “Hal…I don’t want you to think I normally have sex with people after knowing them six hours.”

“What, you like to know them at least eight?” His tone was teasing, but his glance was sharp and evaluative.

“At least.” She played along and was flip. “No, really. I’m pretty picky. But I had some upsetting news the other day—no, I still don’t want to talk about it—and then I just felt this spark with you, and all of a sudden it seemed right and natural and…and…urgent.”

“Urgent?”

“Yeah. The connection part. I wasn’t just horny—though of course that was part of it—I needed to reach something in you. Something rare and elusive that you have. Though I can’t say I know what it is.” She peeled off the rest of the label.

Then she stared him straight in the eyes. “I might have started off using you for comfort sex. But it didn’t end that way. I want you to know that.”

H
AL HAD HEARD
pretty speeches before. He gave them about as much credence as he did pretty women. Maybe this one was nice, but she was obviously letting him down easy. She was saying, “Don’t think you’re going to get lucky again,” while at the same time trying to make him believe that the encounter was more than it was.

She was throwing him a bone.

Some things never changed. There were goddesses and there were dorks. He might be a dork with money and prospects now, but he was still a dork.

“Did you hear me?” Shannon asked.

He realized that he’d been off in mental space and hadn’t responded. “Uh. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Thanks?” She seemed taken aback.

He nodded.

“What are you…can I ask what you’re thinking?”

You can ask.
“Oh, I’m just preoccupied.”
True.
“About an information leak in my company. I’m worried about it, and whether it will affect the IPO. And it pisses me off that I can’t find the source. I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Is someone hacking in?”

“They’d have to be really, really good to get by my security. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but it’s unlikely. And I can’t find a trace of the hacker.”

“Could it be a corporate spy? Someone on the inside?”

Hal thought about it. Was Declan the culprit? No. The taciturn Irishman was honest to a fault. He filled out time sheets to the minute. Was it Trent, his marketing guy? Doubtful. Trent wanted to protect his job and his stock holdings in the company. He’d have no reason to betray Hal, since he’d be sitting pretty after the IPO.

Again, Hal’s thoughts turned to Ryan. He hated to think that someone he knew and liked and trusted would sell him out. Ryan didn’t really have a motive…except for envy, perhaps. A couple of years ago, he’d been part of a business venture that had gone belly-up. He’d lost a lot of capital.

Ryan knew more than the average attorney about
computers. He had a key to Hal’s offices. He’d had the access.

Hal pushed the thought away. Ryan was his best friend. He wouldn’t sabotage Underwood Technologies. Would he?

“Well,” Shannon said. “I can’t say that I know much about corporate theft. I can tell you what a spy should
wear,
but not how he would go about his business.” She shrugged.

Hal blinked at her. “What a spy should
wear?
You’re kidding, right?”

“Yes, I’m kidding. Is anybody lurking around your office in the stereotypical trench coat, black turtleneck and dark glasses?”

He laughed. “Now that you mention it, my receptionist, Tina, does own a shiny pink raincoat. She favors low-cut tops instead of turtlenecks, though.”

“There you go. It’s obviously Tina.” Shannon smiled. “Now that I’ve solved your mystery, I’d better be off to Goodwill with my lawn-and-leaf bags.”

“
My
lawn-and-leaf bags,” Hal grumbled.

“Nope. Mine. I brought them, remember?”

“Yeah, but my entire closet’s in those! And you’re about to give them away.”

“Not your whole closet,” said Shannon, eyeing the jeans he wore in a highly suspect way. “Just most of it.”

Was it his imagination, or were her fingers twitching? She reminded him of a tiger, circling her prey.

“You cannot have my pants,” he said.

“Mwah ha ha ha.”

“No! This is my favorite pair of jeans and you’re not getting them off my body.”

Shannon rubbed her hands together evilly. She raised an eyebrow. “What if I made it worth your while?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What would you like me to mean?”

Was she offering him sex if he took his pants off for her? His cock twitched at the thought. “Well, a guy can always fantasize,” he said, before he could stop himself.

“So can a girl,” she purred. “But the reality is so much more satisfying, don’t you think?” And she whipped off her top.

She is not doing this. I have died and gone to heaven. I have met a crazy blond nympho with a taste for nerds!

Hal sprung a woody in two seconds flat. He wet his lips as his torturess unsnapped her bra and her truly magnificent breasts fell free.

“I figure we’ve known each other for twenty-eight hours now,” Shannon said, “so we’ve gotten acquainted.”

“Whatever you say,” Hal agreed. Her pink, sultry nipples had wide aureoles that just begged for his mouth. They hardened under his gaze and he wanted to suck them until she cried out for mercy.

He wanted to rip off her remaining clothes and set her hot little ass on the ceramic cooktop, where he’d
bring her to a fast boil and then stir her up all over again. Then he wanted her thighs pressing against his ears as she called his name and he tasted her, rolled her on his tongue like vintage wine, and swallowed her essence.

Hal was so hard now that he figured he was in danger of drilling a hole right through his pants. He set his beer down and moved purposefully toward her, removing his own shirt.

She’d unfastened the button to her jeans and slid them down her lean hips. She stepped out of one leg of the pants but he reached her and bent his head to her lips before she got the other foot out.

Shannon swayed into him, her breasts brushing against his chest hair, and it drove him wild. He licked into her mouth and devoured her, cupping her breasts and running his thumbs over her nipples at the same time. She moaned.

Through the fog of utter lust, he still couldn’t quite believe that this goddess was giving herself to him again. He bent her back in his arms and took her left breast into his mouth, sucking hard and insistently, communicating his desire with every pull. He pinched the right nipple, then caressed the smooth globe surrounding it before switching his attentions to that breast.

He worked his knee between hers and brought it up to the juncture of her thighs, where she was hot and wet through her panties. She pressed against it and writhed, turning him on even more.

She reached out and cupped his cock through the jeans while he groaned. “Off,” she said. “Take them off so I can feel you in my hands.”

He ditched them in record time, along with his boxers, and felt her hands caress the length of him, squeeze him at the root, rub her fingers along the sensitive, engorged underside. He was afraid he’d lose control and come right then.

Hal took her hands away, over her murmur of protest, lifted her bodily so that her knees went around his waist and drove into her, helpless with lust. She was tight and hot and deliciously, sinfully wet. He contracted with sheer pleasure, shaking with the force of it.

She was making unintelligible noises, her fingernails digging into his shoulders, her mouth open and plump and willing. He pulled out a few inches and drove back in, panting with physical exertion and restraint. He wanted to draw it out, make it good for her, even though every nerve in his body screamed for a primal, uncivilized pounding.

Hal wanted to screw her into next week, next month, next year. The suction and muscular stroking of her inner walls on his erection was finally too much. He was going to either come or pull out. Gritting his teeth, cursing under his breath, wanting to stay in so badly that his decision was actively painful, he withdrew.