Veiled Seduction (10 page)

“I thought we were going to go out tonight?”

Sasha cast her a surprised glance as she followed him into her kitchen. “Did you want to?”

Maira shrugged. In all honesty, she was coming off a rough week at the hospital, so not really. “When you said a movie, I just assumed.”

“I picked up a DVD.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, if you want to go out to a movie, we can.”

“No,” she said, feeling foolish. “I’m just a little restless, that’s all. Don’t mind me.” Restless and antsy. What was up with her? She pulled a new bottle of chardonnay from the fridge, thankful that she’d had the foresight to chill it earlier.

“Need a hand?”

“Nope.”

She should have wanted to stay in with him. In the two weeks since their trip to the planetarium, thanks to her crazy schedule, they’d only had a handful of dates together. She loved them, they were fun. Magical, even, if she wanted to get Disney Princess about it.

But, but, but…

He never went beyond a kiss at the end of the night.

You should be grateful. Your mother probably got down on her knees when you were a child and prayed her daughters would end up with a man like this.

The problem was, she wasn’t her mother. She was young and ripe for the plucking. Pluck me, damn you.

Stop. Better to take things slow and…

Oh shut up, you stupid prissy bitch.

Her conscience silenced on a huff.

It would be easier, she thought, if they were out in public somewhere. Then maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with all of this seething sexual tension and romantic gestures with little-to-no buffers. “On second thought, why don’t we go out?”

He pulled two wineglasses from her cupboard and placed them on the counter next to her. “But I got the movie.”

“We can watch it tomorrow.”

He seemed to hesitate again, watching as she poured. “Dessert. I got your favorite dessert from Luigi’s.”

“Heck, that’s an even better reason to go out. You don’t need to see my thighs inflate from that.”

“I don’t know why you think cheesecake wrapped in a fried tortilla would make you gain weight. Besides it’s for us to share. That makes the calories fall in the negative.”

“I think that’s some shoddy science there, Karimi.”

“We’ll eat it and step on the scale tomorrow, how’s that?”

She cocked her head and took a sip of the wine. “Why don’t you want to go out?”

A dull flush crept up his cheeks. “It gets a little tiring to be recognized, and I can only wear a hat so much.”

“You’re still being hassled?” It had been almost a month since the shooting. With Reid’s death and the children and teacher’s survival, she’d figured most of the media spotlight would fade.

“It’s mostly local people now. My ten-minute grocery-store trip last weekend took a solid hour. And I’m still racking up at least a phone call a day from some producer or author or reporter.”

“Newsflash,” she said dryly. “They’re always going to recognize you. This town isn’t humongous. You’re their hometown hero.”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable as he always did when the subject came up. “Whatever.”

Something clicked. “That’s why.”

“Why what?”

“Why you’re so hesitant to go out around town. It embarrasses you.”

“Wouldn’t it embarrass you too?”

“Well, of course it would. But I’m me. And you’re you.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged. “You should just do an interview and get it over with. Give the people what they want, so to speak. It might actually help.”

“That’s what Mason said.”

“And?”

He shuddered. “I can’t think of anything I’d hate more.”

“Why?”

“Why? Do I have to have a reason?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I mean, I just don’t want the attention.”

“I always thought you were very at ease with attention.”

He stared at her, a bit perturbed. “You think I’m an attention seeker?”

She gave a wry smile. “Of course not. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to deal with someone staring at me since I was five-eleven at thirteen so I’m sensitive to those who are more extroverted.”

He was an extrovert. Sometimes. Or at least he pretended to be. “Ah, thanks.”

“In any case, you don’t have to tell me. It’s cool.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Okay.”

He watched as she got the plates from the cupboard and withdrew forks from the drawer. She pulled out the Styrofoam box from inside the brown takeout bag.

He folded his arms over his chest. Leaned against the counter. Jiggled his foot.

Damn it. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

She stopped what she was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her look up at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid.”

“What is?”

“My issue.”

“I won’t laugh.”

“Hmmm.”

“I promise. Unless it’s a deep-seated phobia of camera shutters. ’Cause you have to admit, that’s kind of funny.”

He laughed despite himself. “It’s not that.”

“You don’t think they’ll catch your good side.”

“I have a good side?”

She snorted and moved in closer. “Don’t be vain. All your sides are good. Spill.”

He rolled his shoulders, an uncomfortable heat rising in his face. “I don’t like big crowds. I’m not good at handling them.”

Her hand coasted over his arm. “Really? Neither am I, actually. People in general make me feel shy, but when there’s lots of them, I feel like everyone’s pressing in on me.”

He nodded, relieved. “Yeah. Like that.”

“Like I said before, I’m surprised. You seem so at ease around people.”

Sasha rubbed his jaw. “I’m okay around small groups.”

“Why would you think I would laugh at you?”

“Because of why I hate them.” His lips twisted. “When I was a kid, I had a lot of speech problems. Delays in development, stuttering. It took a lot of therapy before I could control it. Avoiding triggers like stressful social situations was the best thing I ever learned to do.”

The light dawned in her eyes. “So you’re worried that if you do an interview or get around a big group of people, you’ll get too nervous…”

“And regress and stutter all over the place.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Some hero, huh?”

A long minute passed. He finally looked up to find her steady brown gaze right on him. “A hero isn’t defined by how he talks, Sasha, but by the actions he does. You saved a school full of children. You could go on TV with tinfoil on your head, and nobody would think any different of you.”

“Real men don’t have deficiencies. They certainly don’t get tongue-tied to the point of being unable to get a word out without tripping over it. I can’t tell you how many times I heard my dad tell me that.”

She scoffed. “That’s hogwash. The majority of children with speech delays and stutters are males, not females.”

“My father was enlightened in a lot of ways. In others, he was about as old school as they came.”

“Awww.” She hugged him. “Trust me, I know all about old-school parents. You know why you’ve never met mine, even when they come into town?”

Maira had let some stories of her traditional parents slip over the years, so he’d had an inkling they wouldn’t be thrilled to meet some guy hanging around their daughter, but he hadn’t wanted to pry. “Why?”

“Because they assume if I’m introducing them to a man, we’re shortly going to be engaged.”

He grinned. “That old school, huh?”

“You have no idea.” She kissed him, right on the corner of his mouth. “You aren’t being silly. You’re the finest man I’ve ever met, Sasha. And I know wherever your father is, he would be just bursting with pride over what you did.”

He should have known she’d understand. They had been raised in similar cultures, and parent pleasing had been drummed into her as well. “Thanks.”

“If the phone calls bother you, you should consider doing an interview, maybe a small one. It would get the others off your back if you made it clear it was an exclusive. If they don’t…” She shrugged. “Fuck ’em.”

He grinned. Listening to Maira swear was always interesting. “Indeed.”

“It’s not like they don’t have a dearth of your so-called close friends to interview about you. When you were in the hospital, I saw your third-grade teacher talking about how she always knew you were a hero.”

He grimaced. “Ms. Rossi? That woman used to make me sit out more recesses than I got to actually play.”

Her look was teasing. “And I’m sure you didn’t do anything to deserve that.”

“Of course not. Mason was the troublemaker. I was just the one who got caught.” He eased back, mostly because the scent of her was going straight to his groin. “Sorry. I really don’t know how we keep turning our dates into therapy hour. Where do you want to go?”

“My couch.”

Pure affection shot through him. “Sure?”

“Yep. What movie did you get?”

“It’s in the bag.” Dessert and a movie had seemed like a genius plan earlier in the day. Now he wondered if he’d be able to sit next to her on the couch for two hours without ripping her clothes off.

Well, they could do a little bit of necking, go to the next level just a bit. A movie, a few kisses, that was acceptable.

“Oh, this movie. The movie I wanted to see six months ago, when you argued me out of it in favor of the movie you wanted to see.”

He grinned at her dry-as-dust tone. “But we can see it now. It just came out on DVD yesterday.” When he’d seen the romantic comedy at the video store, he’d been struck by guilt and regret, by the morbid thought that had he not been wearing his vest, he may have died without ever seeing this movie with Maira.

He could care less about love triangles and ensuing hijinks. But Maira would have enjoyed it, and he should have gotten some pleasure out of watching it with her for no other reason than that. Hence, the ultimate sacrifice tonight, otherwise known as a chick flick. He only hoped she appreciated what he was doing.

“No man alive would say something like that.”

Maira knew that Sasha had no idea why she so loved to watch chick flicks with him. She didn’t particularly care for the actual movie. It was his running commentary of incredulous scoffing and joking throughout.

“Pansy.”

Most people probably didn’t like talking during their movies, but since she had trouble sitting still for two hours at a time to begin with, it made the whole thing much more interactive and fun.

“Why do women always have to remove their glasses when they get a makeover?”

“I don’t know,” she said mildly.

“It’s stupid.” He lifted a bite of the cheesecake dessert to her mouth, adding just the amount of ice cream that she liked. “Glasses aren’t an automatic turnoff to men.”

“Hmmm.” Why had she wanted to go out again? This sitting close together and sharing-the-dessert bit was pure freakin’ genius. She accepted the bite he offered and savored the taste. Since the deep-fried cheesecake—God bless America—was enormous, they’d shared it before. But never on the same plate. With the same spoon. She didn’t just taste the luscious dessert, she tasted him on the silverware as well, and it was wonderful.

Intimate. Yes, the whole night had been intimate. She cast him a sideways glance as he removed the spoon from her mouth. Maybe tonight…maybe tonight she could take advantage of this intimate setting, show him she was ready for more.

Sasha must have felt her gaze, for he glanced at her and smiled. He dropped the spoon onto the now-empty plate and set it on the table. With a swift click, he paused the movie.

Now. Do something, say something now. She sat frozen though, unable to think of anything sufficiently sexy. His arm came around her in a smooth move and he shifted closer so they were sitting hip to hip. “You have some cream on the corner of your mouth.”

She started to raise her hand to wipe it off, but he stayed her. “No, let me.”

He leaned in close, and Maira closed her eyes, her heart stuttering. Oooh, he was going to do the little licking-off-the-food thing in prelude to a kiss. She’d always found that wildly erotic and romantic. She waited for the touch of the tip of his tongue.

Instead she got the full flat of it. Right on her cheek, as if he were a puppy bathing her face. She reared back in surprise. “What the…?”

His eyes dancing with mischief, he sat back. “It’s off.”

She shot him a dirty look and wiped off her cheek. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Do what?”

“The food-on-the-corner-of-the-mouth thing. You’re supposed to turn it into a kiss.”

He looked both innocent and perplexed. “I know not of what you speak.” He leaned forward, dipped his finger into the remaining cream on their plate and swiped it over the corner of his own mouth before sitting back. “Show me.”

He was daring her, and little-known fact, but Maira loved dares. Did he think just because she was a virgin, she knew nothing of sex? School had been a snap for her because she was an insane speed reader. Dirty books were her friend, and she was a fast learner.

She’d just pretend. Pretend she wasn’t boring, staid Maira. It was doable.

Before she could lose her courage, and before he could lower his hand to wipe it on the napkin in his lap, she caught it and brought it to her mouth.

He inhaled sharply as she licked the cream off, boldly keeping eye contact with him. His eyes only briefly dipped down, and she knew the top button of her shirt had probably come conveniently undone.

Once his finger was suitably clean, she drew it in to her mouth oh so slowly, her tongue darting around and rubbing against the underside of it. His shifted when she sucked it once, then again, strong pulls that brought the tip of his forefinger to the back of her throat.

When she released him, it only took a glance down to see how aroused he was. The hard length of his penis distended the material of his slacks. Her nipples ached, her breathing had accelerated, and between her thighs, her panties rubbed up against the swollen tissues of her labia.

She took a deep breath for courage, and then quickly turned and adjusted herself so she straddled his lap. His eyes widened, his hands coming up instinctually to grasp her hips.