The Player, page 8
“Uh, yes, I’m ready,” she said, lifting her chin. Her fingers fiddled with the dress’s neckline as if she weren’t quite comfortable with what she was wearing.
Well, that made two of them.
She picked up a little black bag off the hall table and walked past him. She was wearing some perfume that drove him nuts it was so sexy. And those heels. They were a mile high and made her ankles look so delicate he wanted to carry her down to the car.
Ah, hell, she could have had combat boots on and he’d still want to pick her up.
He shut the door and followed her to the elevator. When the doors opened, he reached out to touch the small of her back to guide her. He stopped himself.
No. No touching.
Not unless she was taking a fall because of those skyscraper pumps. And then only to save her from hurting herself.
Because if he got his hands on her—
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Her voice, low, quiet, was like getting stroked. He punched the button for the lobby and refused to look at her, focusing instead on the little blinking numbers overhead.
“The Congress.”
“What?”
“It’s an old private club here in town.”
“Oh. Do I look all right?”
Yeah, how to answer that one without using the words “sexy,” “as” or “hell.”
“You’ll pass.”
The elevator came to a stop and he held the gate open for her. When she stepped by him, it was all he could do not to yank her back inside, hit the emergency stop button and get up under that dress of hers.
As they walked through the lobby, he thought it was clearly pep-talk time.
So listen up, Bennett, he lectured himself. She’s someone else’s woman. And whereas that wouldn’t matter to most of the ladies who could fill out a dress like that, it was still Joy Moorehouse inside the stunning, sexy creation.
So back the hell off.
* * *
MAYBE THE DRESS wasn’t such a good idea, Joy thought as she got into the limousine.
You’ll pass.
Now there was a ringing endorsement.
In fact, ever since Gray had given her a once-over at the door, he’d fallen into a tense silence. She had to wonder if he knew she was just posing as a sophisticate. Maybe the lie annoyed him.
She really wished she could go back up and change into the black pants and sweater that were hers. However modest, at least she’d felt like herself in those clothes.
As the limousine took off down Park Avenue, Joy glanced across the leather seat. Gray was staring out the window, elbow on the door, chin on his fist. His eyebrows were down low, as if he were in the middle of an argument.
“You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she blurted.
His head turned. “Are you tired?”
Ah, not likely. Starbucks had nothing on the nervous buzz she was riding.
“You just seem preoccupied,” she said. “And I really don’t have to go to dinner with you. I can go out on my own. In fact, why don’t we just head our separate ways when we get—”
“Joy, no offense, but shut up.”
Her eyes flared as he turned away.
Okay. Clearly she’d misread him. He wasn’t silent because she’d irritated him, he was rip-roaring mad.
She studied his profile. Underneath that expensive black suit, behind the civilized guise of the flashy silk tie and gold cuff links, he was rigid with some kind of dark emotion. As if she’d offended him. Or said something that had pissed him off.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered a minute later. “I’m a bastard when I get in this kind of mood.”
“What’s the matter? Did your meetings go badly?”
He laughed in a harsh burst. “Right now, I can’t even remember what I did all day.”
“Do you want to be alone?”
Gray’s eyes slid over to her face. His expression was so intense, she had to blink. It was either that or have her retinas toasted.
“No. I don’t want to be alone,” he said in a low, husky voice. His eyes flickered downward for a split second before he looked away. “And that’s my problem.”
Joy let her breath out slowly and glanced down at herself. In the dim glow of the interior lights, the curves of her chest were obvious. Lush. Even to her, her breasts looked swollen, inviting.
The limousine came to a stop and the door was opened by a man in a green-and-gold uniform. Gray got out first and then offered her a hand.
Joy thought back to what Cassandra had said, about the two of them not being lovers. The woman didn’t strike Joy as a liar. So if there was nothing going on between Gray and the beautiful widow, then what happened that night in his library just might have had nothing to do with the other woman. And everything to do with Joy.
And he’d wanted her when they’d danced together, hadn’t he?
An utterly reckless thought occurred to her. After a decade of dreaming, she was actually out in the big city with Gray. On what might be considered some form of date. And he’d noticed her.
It seemed as if she had a shot at making her pipe dream come true.
Gray leaned down and looked into the limousine. “You coming?”
One shot. And she was going to take it.
Joy reached out and slid her palm into his so their skin rubbed together. Gray’s fingers twitched, as if he felt the same heat she did, and then he gripped her hand and pulled her up.
As she got out, she led with her upper body and turned so she was half facing him. She didn’t have the nerve to meet him in the eyes, but she made sure she brushed her hip against his body as she stepped forward.
His sharp intake of breath gave her some confidence.
As they walked through a set of ornate doors, she sifted through every romantic movie she’d ever seen. She’d never tried to come on to a man before and she wished she was better prepared.
Seduction for Dummies. Now why hadn’t someone written that bestseller?
“Bennett! How are you?” A man in his forties came up to them, eyeing Joy with admiration. “And who’s this?”
“Joy Moorehouse, this is William Pierson IV,” Gray said tersely before steering her away from the man.
In the time it took to get from the front door to their table at a window in the formal dining room, Gray must have talked to thirty people. He seemed to know everyone in the club and the delay gave her a little time to shore up her nerve.
She could do this. She really could. If Eve had pulled off the seducer routine with only an apple and some coaching from a snake, surely Joy could make a go of it in a Stella McCartney dress and a pair of Jimmy Choos.
But as Gray helped her with her chair and then sat down across from her, she hesitated. He didn’t exactly look like a candidate for corruption. While he ordered a bourbon for himself and a glass of Chardonnay for her, his mood was grim. Maybe even worse than it had been in the limousine.
Had she read him wrong? She decided to do a little test. She pushed back her hair and then let her hand drift down the front of the dress. She paused, tugging at the neckline.
His eyes instantly snagged on what she was doing. And that dark moodiness lifted a little, revealing a pounding lust that just about blew her out of her chair.
Okaaay. Guess we’re clear on that.
Wine. Wine would be good right now, she thought, taking a sip.
“So what did you do today?” she asked.
He looked up from the front of her dress. Leaned in toward her.
“Let me give you a piece of advice, Joy,” he said. “You might want to think twice before trying to get my attention. I’m not a nice guy, someone who’s going to take well to being teased.”
She nearly dropped her glass as he picked up his bourbon and tossed the thing back.
Joy took a deep breath.
“What if I’m not teasing?” she said.
* * *
GRAY ALMOST CHOKED. He’d counted on her backing down.
But before he could say anything, a tuxedoed waiter appeared at their table. “Have you made your selections?”
Um, yeah, Gray thought. I’ll have the total body meltdown with a side of what-the-hell-was-I-thinking. She, evidently, will be having the sex-goddess potpie.
“We need a minute,” he said. “But I’d like another bourbon.”
The waiter nodded with deference and dematerialized.
Gray looked across the table, thinking now was his chance to be a gentleman. To prove that he still had a shred of decency left.
“Joy, you don’t mean that. You’re away from home, away from your real life. It’s easy to be reckless.”
“Are you saying that you’re not…” She didn’t finish.
“Attracted to you?”
She nodded.
“At this moment, I want you so badly my hands are shaking.” Her eyes widened so he pressed harder, thinking maybe he could shock her into a retreat. “I want to take that dress off of you with my teeth, run my hands up and down your body, and then do the same thing with my mouth. How’s that for attracted? And it gets worse. Every one of those men we just ran into? Each time they looked at you, I wanted to assault them.”
The waiter came with the bourbon. Although Gray was tempted to hammer the damn thing, he made himself slow down. He needed to stay tight.
God, did he need to stay tight.
“But it’s not right, Joy.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to get hurt and because, quite frankly, I don’t deserve you.”
“Gray, that’s not true—”
“Yeah, the hell it’s not. I’m willing to bet sex means more to you than it does to me.” He sipped his drink. “I’ve left a lot of women the morning after and never looked back. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I can’t ignore what I’ve done, and I don’t want to do that to you. I like you, Joy. I really do. And you’re worthy of a lot more than a cold pillow.”
That seemed to quiet her down.
And this time, when her hand went to the dress’s neckline, she pulled the edges closer together.
“I wish I were a different kind of man,” he said softly. “Because I would love to be with you. God, I’d really love to.”
For the rest of the dinner, Joy put on a game face. They talked about her sister’s wedding and Cassandra’s dress and New York history, all the while picking at their food and fidgeting in their chairs. By the time they left, Gray could tell the strain was wearing on her.
Hell, it was wearing on him, too.
When the limousine pulled up in front of Cassandra’s, he got out first.
“I’ll take you up,” he said.
“That’s not necessary.” As she stepped from the car, she smiled over her shoulder, the expression aimed somewhere to the left of him. “Thanks for dinner.”
He walked into the lobby with her.
“Really, Gray, I can find my way.”
“Humor me. It’s a gentleman thing,” he said, punching the elevator button. “My father and I live together. So he’s still capable of grounding me.”
They rode up in silence and he waited while she took out a key and opened the door. The penthouse was dark inside.
“Thanks again,” she said, going in and feeling around for a light.
“Here, let me help you find the switch.” He stepped forward into the apartment.
The door shut on its own behind him.
As he patted the wall, he leaned to the right just when she stepped to the left. Their bodies touched in the dark.
Gray froze. So did she.
The city’s ambient glow was coming in through the windows across the room, and now that his eyes had adjusted, he could make out the lines of her face. The curves of her body.
Damn it, she was so close, he could smell her.
Get out of this apartment, he thought. Right now.
“Gray?” she whispered.
“What?” He was surprised he could get the word out. His jaw was so tight, he figured he’d need a crowbar to eat again.
“You’re right about being away from home and feeling impulsive.”
He let out his breath. Thank God, she saw things reasonably.
“And if we were anywhere near the lake, I would never ask you this.” She looked up at him. “But will you kiss me? Just once? I’ve wanted to know what it would be like for…a while. No strings. Nothing weird. Just a kiss.”
Gray’s body slammed into overdrive.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said roughly.
She looked down. “I know. Forget I asked—”
“Because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”
Her face lifted.
“Oh, God, Joy.” His voice didn’t even sound like his own. It was as thick as his blood had become. “You are so damned beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like the dress.”
“Screw the dress. It’s got nothing to do with what you’re wearing.”
She reached out and put her hand on his lapel. “Kiss me. Once. Please.”
That did it. He couldn’t turn away. He just didn’t have the willpower.
Gray moved in close, smoothing back her hair and then taking her face in his hands. Her lips parted and her eyes closed as he tilted back her head. He felt her body go completely still. She didn’t seem to breathe at all. It was as if she had focused all her energy on what was about to come.
Frankly, he felt humbled.
Stroking her cheek with his thumb, he bent down, keeping his eyes on her face. He put his mouth softly on hers.
That was all he intended. Really.
Except the slight shudder that went through her was so erotic, he kissed her lightly again. Just a stroke of mouth on mouth with hardly any pressure at all behind the contact. Her hands crept up his chest and linked around his neck.
He brought his lips back down and this time he wasn’t quite so gentle. In response, she leaned into him, her body coming against his. The fit of her fulfilled every idiotic cliché he’d ever heard. Lock and key. Hand and glove.
He wondered what taking her would feel like and imagined himself inside of her. Buried deep. Moving.
Dear God. The moving.
Gray heard a groan and realized it had come out of him. Before he could stop himself, he dug his hands into her hair and slipped his tongue into her mouth. She was so sweet, he almost hit the floor. A combination of the spearmint tea she’d had for dessert and something that was altogether her.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and he put his arms around her, bringing her hard against his body. Thigh to thigh, chest to breast, he absorbed the soft feel of her while backing her against the wall.
“I’ve got to go,” he said over her mouth before kissing her again.
His hands skimmed her waist and hips and the dress was a flimsy barrier between him and her body. He could feel every bit of her as he slid his hands around her rib cage and paused under her breasts.
“Damn it…” he moaned against her lips. “We have to stop.”
But he only kissed her harder, urgency getting the better of him. And instead of pulling away, she wrapped one leg behind his calf and rubbed him.
His control snapped.
* * *
JOY HAD ALWAYS IMAGINED it would be like this with Gray.
She was up against the wall, his hard body all over hers, his lips and tongue doing spectacular things to her mouth, his touch hot and a little rough. When his hand found her breast, she called out his name.
“Tell me to stop,” he said hoarsely. “Please.”
“Never.”
With a groan of frustration, he gripped the leg she’d wrapped around his, bending it up to his hips and sinking his lower body into hers. She felt his arousal, thick and hot, and grabbed onto his backside, pulling him even closer. His hand shot underneath the dress’s skirt, running up her thigh until he got to the garter belt she’d borrowed.
When his fingers reached the bare skin of her upper leg, he said something incoherent against her lips. And then his mouth was moving over hers again.
She was too inexperienced and overwhelmed to do anything more than hold on to him as he unleashed himself on her body. But he didn’t seem to need anything more from her. No, he knew exactly what to do.
“Which bedroom are you in?” he asked.
“Down the hall. Second door. Left.”
He scooped her up and started walking.
As he strode along, his face was familiar and strange at the same time. It was still the same bones, still the same dark hair framing the features, but arousal had transformed him. His eyes were dilated, almost unseeing. His brows were down tight. His skin was flushed and his breath was punching out of his mouth.
Looking at him, she thought about telling him she was a virgin, but the last thing she wanted was to give him an excuse to put a lid on their passion. It was her body. Her choice to have him. Besides, she was familiar enough with sex to know she was so turned on it wasn’t going to hurt that badly. Maybe he wouldn’t even know.
Gray kicked open the door to her room and carried her over to the queen-size bed. After he laid her down, he shut them in, throwing the lock.
There was no going back, she thought as she watched him come at her. He was going to stay and make love to her. And yes, he was probably going to leave and never look back. And yes, she would be devastated.
But she had him right now.
Looming over her, he tore off his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. Then he wrenched his tie from his neck.
Her body arched up for him as he joined her on the bed.
“Are you sure, Joy?” he asked. “Are you sure you want this?”
She nodded and buried her hands into his thick hair. “Oh, yes. I am very sure.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
And then he kissed her.
The dress melted away under his hands. He seemed to know precisely how to work the zipper and buttons and she tried not to think about how many women he must have undressed to be that fast.
Any such preoccupation flew from her mind as he looked at her body. He was positively reverent and he slowed down, touching her softly, stroking her neck and her collarbone and then moving downward.
