Risqué Business

She ran her tongue over her lower lip. His gaze narrowed at the movement, like blue flames sending a spear of desire through her body.

Maybe it was. The rush of sexual energy and the power of having a man physically attracted to her—especially a man like Nick—made here realize she’d be an idiot to ignore the opportunity. The ideal her, the strong, sexy woman she was trying to become, wouldn’t ignore it, she’d grab on with both hands and make it hers.

“The question is,” he said softly as he reached out to trace her lower lip with his thumb, “just how far are you willing to go to prove you’re right?”

The challenge was impossible to ignore. But he wasn’t asking her to take a bet based on intellect. He was trying to move into a completely different arena. One she’d never played in. Who knew fear could give anticipation such a jagged edge.

“I know I’m right. Whether or not you’re willing to admit it doesn’t change my assurance of that fact.”

“I love it when you talk all intellectual like that,” he said, his body so close she could feel the heat from his chest through the smooth silk of her blouse. “You get this snooty, uptight tone going that’s at odds with the sexy glint in your eyes.”

“How do you know I’m not a snooty, uptight intellectual?” she asked with a little laugh.

Rather than the glib, offhand denial she’d expected, Nick’s face turned serious. He stepped back and gave her a slow, intense once-over. From the bottom of her miserably aching feet in three-inch spectator pumps, to her waxed and lotioned legs to the “oh, my god, it’s too short” skirt.

His eyes skimmed her hips, making her aware of curves she’d never realized she even had until she’d put on more fitted clothes. He slid a glance over the wide croc belt at her waist and then let his eyes rest on her breasts, which were outlined by the smooth red silk of her blouse. This gaze didn’t linger long enough to make her uncomfortable, but there was definitely enough heat to warm her body with feminine awareness.

His eyes roamed her face. She wondered if it was a writer’s thing, the way he catalogued her features in that semidetached way.

“You’re smart, I’ll give you that. But there’s nothing snooty or uptight about the looks of you.” His brows drew together and he gave a baffled little laugh. “If anything, under that sophisticated sheen, you give off an air of innocence.”

“Maybe I am innocent. Maybe the sophistication is a sham.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve been around plenty of women. Enough to know when they are putting on an act and when they are genuine.”

Delaney laughed, she must be better at this pretending stuff than she’d realized. Being taken as a natural sophisticate was both novel and bizarre. But it beat the hell out of him realizing she was really a brainy geek who couldn’t have gotten a roomful of her peers to notice her if she’d sung “The Star-Spangled Banner” at the top of her lungs…while tap-dancing naked.

Exhilarated by his assessment, she sighed and let her body relax as much as possible while in such close proximity to the sexiest man alive.

“So what’s the side bet?” she asked, unable to contain her curiosity. Not that she’d take it. That’d be insane. But, she had to admit in the privacy of her own mind, Nick Angel was the kind of guy who made a woman want to see how good “crazy” could feel.

“Either prove good sex needs emotions—” he paused, his voice pure liquid heat “—or admit the greatest sex in the world is purely physical.”

“How?”

His stare said it all.

Delaney gasped. Sure, she was attracted to him. What woman with a pulse wouldn’t be? And he’d given her some hot looks that coming from any other guy—to any other gal—she’d have imagined meant he might be interested. But her? And the sexiest man alive?

“You expect me to sleep with you?” she whispered, more a statement than a question. She’d already had sex with the man in her mind at least a dozen times since he’d walked on the set. But to actually have sex with him? She’d have to get naked. Really naked, as in he’d see the actual her beneath the makeup and gel bra. Hell, no.

“Can you think of any better way to prove your point?” he asked with a wicked laugh. The look on his face made it clear he was turned-on by the concept. Delaney narrowed her eyes. It had to be a trick. Guys didn’t give her those long, sexy looks. Not unless they wanted something. Or, in Nick’s case, wanted to distract her. Or worse, make her look like a fool.

Her shoulders tightened.

“Please,” she said with a sniff. “I’m not having sexual relations with you just to win some stupid bet.”

“Aren’t you interested in learning firsthand what my version of intimacy is?”

“Just as much as you want to experience a committed, loving relationship,” she countered, irritation working through her system.

“And you really believe that to have good sex, that emotional thing needs to be present?”

“I do. Passion is stronger than lust,” she insisted. With a wave of her hand, she gestured between the two of them. “How easy would it be to say ‘sure, let’s do it.’ We could walk through that door and rip each other’s clothes off. We could get hot, sweaty and wild. Screams of satisfaction would echo down the hallway.” She eyed the smug look on his face and arched her brow before adding, “Your screams.”

His grin was fast and appreciative.

Delaney’s breath hitched at the sight, but she didn’t let passion cloud her argument.

“But it wouldn’t matter. It’d only be fleeting. Quick, pointless and once it was over, you’d walk away without another thought. That,” she declared, “is lust. Which would only prove my point.”

His eyes had darkened to a deep midnight-blue, the hunger flaring clear and bright. From the intensity of his stare, he liked the image her words evoked.

Nick took a step forward and her nipples beaded. Delaney lifted her chin, trying to hide the fact that she was not only turned-on, but also intimidated as hell.

“What if I promised you that if you unlock that door, the sex would be so good you’d forget all about the myth of love?”

Delaney gulped but didn’t back down. Not when her entire belief system was on the line.

“I might forget for the moment. Good sex has a way of doing that.” At least, she imagined it did. She’d never personally had sex good enough to make her forget the way she felt when she first read Lady Chatterley’s Lover, let alone something as important as her feelings. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m saying that true intimacy is more than slam, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

“And I’m saying if the slamming is done right, ma’am is the one doing the thanking.”

Delaney rolled her eyes.

“You’re playing with words,” she told him.

“Words are my specialty. They’re not all I’m good at, though,” he said with a cocky grin.

“Obviously,” she murmured, not about to argue his sexual prowess. After all, the guy got her hot and wet just standing there. If he actually put some moves on, she’d probably melt into a whimpering puddle.

“So…” he said, his voice trailing off as he moved even closer. Heat radiated off his chest and an answering flame flickered low in her belly. “What do you say? A no-strings fling. Hot, wild sex.”

He took that final step, bringing his body flush against hers. Delaney bit back a whimper at the sweet pressure of his chest against her aching nipples, his thigh, warm and hard, pressed between her legs.

He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head and lowered his face until his mouth was within inches of hers. Delaney swallowed, unable to tear her gaze from the hypnotic blue depths of his. As though under an irresistible spell, she simply waited, both eager and terrified to see if he’d follow through.

When he did, it wasn’t the deep, wild kiss she’d anticipated. Instead it was more of a tease. A soft brush of his lips over hers, warm, moist and gentle. Any other guy and she’d have termed it sweet.

His eyes still holding hers prisoner, Nick pulled back just a bit, his breath warming her mouth.

That was it? The hottest guy she’d ever had pressed against her and that was the kiss she’d inspired? Delaney wanted to grab his hair and yank him closer, ravage his mouth with hers. To kiss him with an intense, deep passion she hadn’t even known existed.

“Just consider it,” he murmured.

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, his mouth plunged again, this time taking hers with a fierceness that shot straight down to her belly. She gave herself over to the wild power of his kiss.

Heat flamed as he trailed one hand down the side of her neck, then traced the soft silk of her blouse. Over her collarbone, her shoulder and just barely brushing the side of her breast. Delaney shuddered as his fingers skimmed past her waist, his hand gripping her thigh. Need like she’d never felt before surged and she hitched her skirt, just enough for his hand to touch bare skin.

If her own boldness shocked her, his reaction blew her mind. Fingers clenched once, then he slipped his hand over her thigh, around until his fingers grazed the curve of her butt. Her body taking the lead, since for the first time in her life her brain had shut down, she shifted her leg to wrap it around his hard muscular thigh and give him better access. His groan was low and guttural against her mouth. He moved, just a bit, so his leg pressed against the throbbing that wet her panties. His kiss went deeper, his fingers cupping, squeezing her butt in rhythm with the dance of his tongue. Pressure wound in a tight little knot, strong and demanding. It was all she could do not to grind herself against him in search of relief.

The intensity of her reaction, her swift loss of control, scared Delaney. Not enough to stop, though. Not even close.

So she couldn’t think, could barely react, when he pulled back. Not just his mouth, but his entire body. He stepped away, leaving her churned up, panting and cold where her flesh had felt the warmth of his.

“One month,” he said in a husky whisper. “We give each other a month, totally focused on physical pleasure. In the end, you’ll admit I’m right.”

Still caught in a fog of desire, she almost agreed—was actually in the process of nodding—when his last words sank in. Right, her ass. All that kiss had proved was he knew how to use his mouth. She closed her eyes against the image that particular realization brought to mind and shook her head.

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