her delicate skin as he did. “‘It’d look perfect draped over the back of the chair in my bedroom.’” Just to introduce the idea of her getting naked in his condo. He made sure his lower lip grazed along her earlobe as he moved away.
“Wow,” she said on an exhaled breath. “You’re good.” She opened her eyes and blinked as if trying to get them back into focus. “On that admission I think I’d better be going.” Without further hesitation she turned and moved away.
“No,” he said, taking her hand, desperate to keep her close. “Please. Don’t go.” Because he didn’t want to be alone, because he liked spending time with her, because, Lord help him, he craved her with a ferocity capable of significant damage to his manly assets if he didn’t do something about it.
“I don’t know,” she said in that teasing tone of hers. “You promised to be a perfect gentleman around me.” She looked down at his hand squeezing hers. “Yet the vibe I’m getting is anything but gentlemanly.”
Perceptive.
“I promised not to kiss you again,” he clarified, pulling her back to him. “And I won’t.” He nuzzled in close to her ear and whispered, “Unless you ask me real nice.” He’d get her to make the first move, to beg him to touch her for real. Then she’d have no basis to be angry with him afterwards.
“Suppose I stay,” she asked. “What did you have in mind for us to do that doesn’t involve kissing?”
Caressing. Licking. Exploring. “Anything you want.”
ANYTHING YOU WANT.
Yikes! An open invitation like that could get a girl into trouble. Or it could satisfy the increasingly distracting yearning responsible for loss of sleep, poorly-timed bouts of daydreaming, and an on-edge/wound-too-tight feeling that Scarlet felt certain a night of stellar sex would remedy.
“Anything I want?”
His lips formed a sexy half-smile. “In the closet or outside of it.”
So he’d heard that comment. “We do girls night out once a month,” she explained, trying to ignore the effects his close proximity had on her body. “My friends like to share their sexual exploits over pricey cocktails. And let me tell you, I have some adventurous friends.”
“Dare I hope birds of a feather flock together?” he asked.
In her case, they did. But she wouldn’t tell him that. “Anyway,” she emphasized, moving along. “Out of all the places they’ve had sex, and there have been some interesting places, no one in the group has ever done it in a closet.”
“I think you should be the first,” he said in earnest.
Oh did he?
“I have three that can accommodate us,” he added.
She looked up at him. “Us? As in you and me?” She gestured back and forth between them. “As in you and the absolute last woman you should lust after because of my friendship with your daughter?”
“So you have something to talk about the next time you go out with your girlfriends.” He stared into her eyes. “It sounded like it’s been a while since you had anything...adventurous to contribute.”
Eighteen months to be exact. In her defense, they’d been very busy months involving long hours spent at the hospital, with her all female staff. And the majority of men she came in contact with were either married, in the midst of family crisis, or doctors. None of them viable boyfriend material, especially doctors, her professional colleagues, who were as preoccupied by their patients and worked the same insane amount of hours she did. A relationship would never work.
And yet she’d been entertaining some relationship-worthy thoughts about Dr. Lewis Jackson—in a closet.
“You’re a standup guy, Dr. Jackson.” She used his professional credential to remind her who she was dealing with. “Ready to stuff yourself in a closet for me and all.”
“The perfect gentleman in me is willing, able, and ready to assist you in one-upping your friends. And when we’re alone, please call me Lewis.”
“Will you respond to Lou?”
“Only if it’s preceded by ‘kiss me.’”
Not gonna happen. After experiencing the good sense eradicating power of his kiss firsthand, and dreaming of it night after night since then, if Scarlet had any hope of keeping things between them platonic, she could not invite, encourage, or in any way appear to welcome another kiss, because if his lips made contact with hers, she would not be able to resist him. And resist him she must.
Scarlet liked Lewis, as a friend. A friend she happened to be crazy attracted to. Would a night of sex squelch that attraction or make it even more difficult to ignore? Would it lead to awkward interactions or ongoing secret hookups behind Jessie’s back? Would it remain private or would someone find out?
Would it hurt Jessie or negatively impact Scarlet’s chances of adopting Joey?
She refused to risk either.
Time to take back control.
She sidled up to Lewis, pressing her breasts to his chest, reaching up to cup the back of his neck and pull his head down so she could whisper in his ear. “I hope you were serious when you said anything,” she whispered. “What I have in mind will involve strength.” She caressed his biceps. “And patience. I don’t like to be rushed.”
“You set the pace,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. Two large hands gripped her butt and pulled her bottom half flush with his. “You’re in charge.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said quietly, keeping her mouth close to his ear. Then she puckered up and made the loudest kissing noise she could.
When Lewis jumped back she said, “Now put on a shirt. We’re going shopping.”
“Shopping?” he asked, holding his ear.
“You did say anything I wanted.” Scarlet walked to the bags she’d dropped at the front door when she’d arrived and bent to retrieve her backpack.
“But shopping wasn’t at all what I’d had in mind,” he mumbled.
Scarlet looked down so he wouldn’t see her smile as she unzipped the front pouch and took out the advertisements she’d printed. “I found the perfect comforter set and accessories for Jessie’s room.” She carried the pictures back to the kitchen and spread the top few out on the island counter. “I ordered them and they’re waiting for us to pick them up at Macy’s.” She looked over to him. “Of course if you hate them or they’re too expensive I can cancel the order. Or I’ll pay half. Or all if I have to. I want her room to be amazing.” The kind of room a girl would love to spend time in. A room she’d want to invite her friends over to see.
“I can afford to pay for my daughter’s bedding, thank you,” he groused, reviewing the results of the hours she’d spent on the Internet.
“I thought we could paint one wall this color.” She held up the color swatch she’d gotten from the paint store and pointed to the shade with red X. A dark, grape jelly purple. “Jessie told me you have hardwood floors throughout but this throw rug will offset the deep coloring of the wall perfectly.” She pointed to a picture of a colorfully designed rug. “I couldn’t find it in stock anywhere local, so we’ll have to order it.”
“Stop,” he said. “The rug is fine, but there will be no purple wall. Not in my condo.”
His bland, shades of cream condo. “That’s your problem, Lewis,” she said, prepared for this battle. “You can’t think of it as a wall in your home. You need to think of it as a wall in Jessie’s bedroom. A wall with personality.