Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
He’d never been so nervous and excited in his life as he drove toward Tess’s house a little before eight.
The sun was down and the streetlights on, but heat from the day still rose up from the pavement and he had the truck’s air conditioner going full blast. Considering his heated condition, he might have to run the air conditioner in the dead of winter if he had a negligee-clad Tess waiting at the end of the line.
Which wouldn’t happen, because she’d be gone by winter.
The cooler beside him with a bottle of wine inside had been easy to pass by his parents.
He’d taken wine over to Tess’s house before.
But he’d sneaked the daisy chain he’d made into the cooler when no one was around.
His mother did seem to be watching him a little more closely, so he’d have to be careful about similar preparations in the future.
The future. A terrible thought came to him.
Maybe tonight was all there would be. After all, once he’d taken care of Tess’s virginity problem, she wouldn’t need to continue this risky business, even though she’d be in Copperville for the rest of the summer.
For some reason, he hadn’t figured that out.
He’d been “hired” for a specific job, and after tonight the job would be over.
Hell, he couldn’t think about that or he’d be too depressed to enjoy himself.
And he definitely planned to enjoy himself.
If her brothers ever found out about any of this, his goose was not only cooked, it was fried, so he might as well make the reward worth the risk.
Tonight would be one for the record books.
He parked in her driveway and discovered he was shaking like a newborn colt. The lights in the living room were muted, but he doubted that’s where she was. Heart pounding, he got out of the truck with the cooler and walked up the steps to her front porch.
Sure enough, the front door was unlocked. He walked in, his chest tight from the effort to breathe normally, and stepped on a daisy. A trail of them led from the front door down the hall. He turned and locked the door.
Quietly setting the cooler and his hat on the coffee table, he opened the cooler and took out the daisy chain and the wine. First he glanced at the unopened bottle and then at the trail of daisies leading, no doubt, to her bed. If he didn’t open the bottle now, it might never be opened.
Sidestepping the daisies, he walked into the kitchen, found the corkscrew and opened the wine.
His hands weren’t completely steady, but he managed to take two goblets from the cupboard without dropping them.
With the daisy chain looped around one arm, the wine in one hand and the glasses in the other, he took a deep breath and started down the hall, following the daisies.
He’d prepared himself for the tempting sight of Tess lounging on her bed with very little on. After all, they’d gone swimming together hundreds of times, so he knew what she looked like in a bathing suit. This wouldn’t be all that different, probably.
Wrong.
The scene she’d created left him breathless.
His blood hammered through his veins as he gazed at every man’s fantasy — a virgin trapped in a bordello.
Red velvet swags and red bulbs in the lamps gave the room a glow of sinful pleasure.
His furry gloves lay waiting on a bedside table.
On the other, a tray of food that could have been plucked right out of an orgy offered plump red tomatoes, velvet-ripe peaches, chilled asparagus, and clusters of moist grapes.
Whether it was the fruit or some exotic fragrance Tess had added, the room already seemed to smell of sex, and a stereo played soft, but subtly persuasive music with an underlying beat that mimicked the rhythm of lovemaking.
Gilt-framed mirrors propped at various angles all reflected the centerpiece of the room, a bed covered in virginal white satin and mounded with satin pillows of all shapes and sizes.
Reclining on that nest of pillows was a woman Mac barely recognized.
Although the scraps of white satin covering her breasts seemed inconsequential, they managed to emphasize her cleavage, where the pearl necklace lay cradled by her soft body.
His gaze traveled to the white lace garter belt and panties, which defined her femaleness in ways he’d never imagined.
The garters were fastened to white silk stockings with a sheen like pearls and lace tops circling her thighs.
Last of all he absorbed the fact that Tess, the woman who believed in no-nonsense running shoes and well-worn boots, was wearing a pair of white sandals with four-inch heels.
She gave him a slow smile. “What do you think?”
“I don’t…” He swallowed. “I don’t believe this is about thinking.”
“True.” Her gaze traveled to his crotch. “I have the reaction I wanted. Would you like... to get out of those clothes? They seem a bit... tight.”
“Um, yeah.” He looked down and realized he was still holding the wine bottle, glasses and daisy chain, but his brain was so fuzzy he couldn’t decide what to do with them. It was a wonder he hadn’t poured the wine on the carpet.
She held out both hands. “I’ll hold the bottle. And the daisies. I can pour us some wine if you want while you’re taking off your clothes.”
He gazed at her holding out her arms to him in that welcoming fashion and had the urge to toss the wine and glasses over his shoulder and join her immediately on that tempting bed.
He groaned softly and shook his head to clear it.
He’d need every ounce of control at his command in order to make this the slow seduction he’d planned.
“Is anything the matter?” she asked.
“Only that you’ve blown me away, and I’m struggling to get my bearings.”
“I really did that?”
“Yeah, you really did that.” He handed her the bottle and glasses. After she set them next to the tray of food, he gave her the daisy chain. “I’m usually a little more suave when I walk into a lady’s bedroom with wine and flowers. I usually present them instead of waiting for her to ask.”
“Oh.” She grinned, and he caught a calming glimpse of the other Tess, the one who loved climbing trees and eating cotton candy.
“Thank you for the wine and flowers,” she said demurely.
Then she put the daisies around her neck.
They draped her breasts like a lei, drawing attention to the provocative swell above the tiny garment she wore. “How’s that?”
“More exciting than I could have predicted.”
She looked into his eyes, her own filled with an intensity to match his. “It is exciting, isn’t it? Us, and... all of this. Who would have thought?”
“Not me.”
She glanced at the wine. “The books say alcohol dulls sensual pleasure.”
“I thought you’d need to relax.” He chuckled. “Maybe I need it more than you do. You don’t look nervous at all.”
“I have a million butterflies inside.”
“You do?”
“Of course. I’ve never acted this way with a man in my life.”
He was humbled as he thought what a gift she was giving him. “That makes tonight very special. For me, too.”
“I’m glad. You know, maybe a little wine wouldn’t hurt.”
“I’m so keyed up I can guarantee it won’t affect me.”
“And I don’t want to be inhibited.”
He laughed. “This is inhibited?”
“Sort of. The books say that a woman can drive a man crazy it he comes into the bedroom and finds her... touching herself.”
He gulped. “Really.” From the painful bulge in his jeans, the books must be right. “And some wine might encourage you along those lines?”
“Maybe.”
“Then drink up.”
Her cheeks grew pink. “Just a little, then.” She reached over to the nightstand and poured them each half a glass. Then she picked hers up and leaned back against the pillows. “Now undress for me, Mac. And make it slow.”
His jaw slackened. “What do you mean, slow?”
“Tease me a little. Build the suspense.” She swirled her wine in her goblet and took a sip, watching him over the rim of her glass.
His body quivered in anticipation while his mind balked. “What suspense? You’ve seen every part of me. And I can say that with conviction after the other night. What difference does it make how I take off my clothes now?”
“Believe me, it makes a difference. And keep your eyes on me the whole time you’re doing it.”
Suspicion made him frown. “How do you know it makes a difference?”
“A friend of mine in college had a male stripper for her twenty-first birthday party. He was very good.”
“I’m not a male stripper!”
“Your body is even nicer than his.” She rubbed the wineglass slowly back and forth across her lower lip. Then she circled the rim with her tongue and licked an imaginary drop off the side of the glass. She turned to him with a smile. “I’ll make it worth your while, cowboy.”
He wanted to laugh and make light of her blatant attempt to remind him of what she’d accomplished the other night.
But the laughter stuck in his throat as he gazed helplessly at her mouth and remembered.
With that gesture of her pink tongue moving over the wineglass, she probably could have persuaded him to drink arsenic.
He settled for drinking the wine she’d poured. Walking over to the nightstand, he picked up his glass and drained it. He set down the empty glass, took off his watch and laid it next to the glass. Then he emptied the condoms out of his pocket and put those on the table, too.
She glanced at them and back at him. “I have some, you know.”
“How did you know what size?”
“I had a good idea.”
He remembered her hands on him, her mouth taking him in, and agreed silently that yes, she probably did know.
“So, will you strip for me, Mac?”
He gazed at her. “Swear to me you’ll never tell anyone,” he said as a last attempt at self-preservation.
“I swear on the tomb of old King Tut, take a willow switch to my butt.”
That crazy rhyme they’d made up as kids took on erotic meaning when spoken by a sexy wench reclining in her red velvet and white satin room of seduction. “Is that a suggestion?”
“Not exactly. I haven’t done much research into spanking fantasies.” She picked up a remote control and pushed a button. The volume of the music increased a fraction, the beat becoming more insistent. “Now do it, MacDougal. Make me squirm.”