So Into You Read online

  "Okay. Shoot."

  "What's the most risqué thing you've ever done?"

  She thought for a few moments, and then smiled. He'd given her the perfect chance for a little payback. This would be fun.

  And what better story to tell than one of her favorite fantasies. If she could manage it without laughing or blushing. Unobtrusively she twisted one foot behind the other beneath the table, using the slight stretch of muscles to help her focus and not giggle.

  She moved forward, closing the distance between them, and lowered her voice. He automatically leaned toward her.

  She had him. Repressing a satisfied grin, she began.

  "A neighbor of mine used to watch me with binoculars. He would stand in front of his window, which was across from mine, so I could see him quite clearly. He was always naked and he'd masturbate as I stripped in my bedroom before taking my shower. Now I knew he was watching, so one night I sat in a chair by my bed and got myself off where he could see me. It was one of the hottest things ever." She fanned herself, biting her lip against the hot blush her own words had inspired.

  Phil's Adam's apple jerked as he swallowed. Yeah, she had him all right. Time to tweak just a little more. "It was so intensely erotic to know he was fantasizing about me. I must have had three orgasms seeing him jerk off as I rubbed my clit."

  She leaned even closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Can you picture it, Phil? Me, lying wide open, my breasts bare, my nipples hard, and my hand touching between my legs, rubbing my pussy, all wet and shining, until I scream and come… as you watch."

  "Jesus." There was a tiny drop of sweat at his hairline.

  Casey straightened and spread her hands wide. "You asked."

  He stared at her, and then his eyes narrowed. "That was a crock, wasn't it? You sinner."

  She couldn't help bursting into laughter. "But by God, you bought it, didn't you?"

  He rolled his eyes and then laughed as well. "Yeah. Damn, you're good. You got me going with that one."

  The waitress stopped at their table and began to clear their plates, urging them to consider dessert and coffee.

  To her surprise, Casey found herself ordering both, agreeing to share a hunk of cheesecake with Phil. She hadn't expected this, to be enjoying herself enough to want to prolong the evening. But she had, and it was fun.

  More fun than she'd had in some time, and it had taken until now for her to even realize it, let alone admit it to herself. She knew it wasn't anything she'd done differently; therefore it must have something to do with the man across the table.

  Maybe it was time to take him up on that no-bullshit deal. "So I managed to share without blushing. I think you should return the favor. Tell me what kind of fantasies do you have?"

  Phil looked down at his hands, folded in front of him on the table. It was almost a shy move, but she had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to him than he let on.

  He looked up and his stare made her heart miss a beat as he spoke into the silence that had fallen between them. "All of my fantasies…they have been about you."

  Warmth spread deep in her body. Those eyes, the deep smoldering burn they radiated as he looked at her. He wasn't lying. She swore she could physically feel the desire coming off him in waves and buffeting her like a hot storm.

  "Casey, you know I was just using that mistake as a way to get some time alone with you. I can sit here and pretend all night but you're smarter than that and you know I'm seriously attracted to you. Have been since the first time I laid eyes on you." Phil absently toyed with the rim of his water glass.

  Casey watched his finger rub around the slippery edge and had a sudden erotic vision of that finger rubbing around something else.

  "The first time? Seriously?" She shifted in her seat, held captive now by his words and the passion she could sense behind them. He was definitely getting to her and she was a bit unsettled by the heat building around the two of them.

  "Yes. The very first time I saw you at work. You were wearing a white blouse, black skirt, those high heeled black shoes with ankle straps and a pair of gold hoop earrings." Phil looked a little uncomfortable.

  "You remember that? It's been, what, two years?"

  "I know, it sounds insane. Or dangerous even. But I'm not a stalker and I don't think I'm crazier than anyone else. I'm sorry…" His voice tapered off and he paused. Then he frowned slightly.

  "Wait…I'm not sorry." He moved his hands awkwardly, barely managing to avoid knocking over the water glass.

  Then he continued. "We could sit here for another hour or two and make small talk. Then I could take you home and maybe get a kiss goodnight if I'm lucky. Or I can be as honest as I know how and tell you that I've wanted you since day one." He leaned closer. "Since that first moment you walked in to the building."

  The waitress chose that moment to deliver the coffees and the promised dessert. It was probably a good thing because it gave Casey chance to breathe. But when the woman had gone, Phil picked up where he'd left off.

  "There are things I want to do with you that would make most women blush. I tend to be shy and most often I go slowly with a woman. But you make me want to take chances, to be bold." He took in a deep breath. "I love how your perfume blends with the natural scent of you. I stand behind you in the elevator and can smell the fragrance of your hair. There isn't any part of you that I haven't imagined. It's as if you are my painting and I want to brush over you with my fingers and lips. I have never wanted a woman so badly in my life as I want you."

  He turned his attention to his coffee and took a small piece of cheesecake, letting his words settle into her brain. Absently she stirred her own coffee, but couldn't even think about dessert. The images he'd created were so damned arousing she could have dived beneath the table and eaten him long before she'd get around to food.

  She knew her face was flushed, since her cheeks were burning hot. No man had ever been so bluntly amorous before. Or as attractively honest with her. She'd had her fair share of typical come-on lines but Phil was just so… so…fucking sexy. He'd turned her on, big time, and her panties weren't damp anymore, they were soaked. If someone sneezed right now, she might well explode into an orgasm where she sat. And that would definitely be better than any damn cheesecake on the menu although more embarrassing.

  Jesus Christ. This was completely unexpected, unanticipated and awesomely amazing.

  Amazement surrendered to tension and anticipation on the ride home, mixed with a healthy dash of torture. The mood had been set. Toni Braxton was working her sensual magic and neither spoke.

  Casey's mind whirled, visions of them together interspersed with a stern reminder to herself that she was in control of what happened, not Phil. Or at least she should be.

  But realistically, she knew the evening had changed her perception of him. And opened her up to her own long-repressed needs and desires. Their conversation, so erotically charged, had led her to one simple conclusion.

  She wanted Phil.

  She wanted him under her, on top of her, inside her. Not a meaningful, emotional attachment. Not some kind of earth shattering revelation about love and sunset and cuddles she read about in those clichéd Sahara Kelly novels.

  No, this was pure, unaltered lust. The eager need of woman for man and the kind of thing she found depicted much more realistically in her collection of S.L. Carpenter books.

  Entering the foyer of her apartment building with him politely following, she knew what she ached for and when they stopped at her door, she slid easily into his arms, kissing him deeply without a second thought.

  She pressed into him, loving the hard erection she felt surging in his pants. She wanted that, wanted to explore it, and have it sunk deep inside to assuage the emptiness she'd ignored for so long.

  A soft moan left her lips while they kissed. She nibbled on his lower lip, wanting to say so much, but unsure of the right words. "Definite potential here, Phil." Slowly, she moved her hips against him, rubbing he
rself over the bulge, arousing them both with her subtle gyration.

  Looking into his eyes she saw the success of her efforts. He blinked and sucked in a breath as she pressed even harder against him and notched his arousal between her thighs. Unbidden, her leg rose to rest against his hip. She wanted—oh how badly she wanted…

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, his tongue invading, dueling with hers, sharing heat and need. The fire from the kiss matched the fire building in all her swollen sexual places. She was wet, slick with readiness, longing to touch him and make sure she'd aroused him as much as he'd aroused her.

  But once again Phil proved unpredictable and she gasped as he stepped back, peeling their bodies apart.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." His voice was hoarse. "But I don't want to rush this. I've spent two years waiting for you and I won't be just a one-night stand." He dipped and kissed her softly but quickly. "Next time." He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face and walked out the door.

  The thunk of the automatic lock jarred Casey as she stood alone and dumbfounded, her mouth open and her body shocked rigid. She walked in to her apartment, closed the door and leaned against it. Finally, she got breath back into her lungs.

  "What the fuck?"

  Chapter Five

  The days passed at work pretty much as usual for Phil. He'd gone through the "how long do I wait before asking her out again" phase and picked the following Friday as the only day that wasn't too soon or too far off she'd think he wasn't interested.

  Hah. Like that was gonna happen. He'd sunk that boat right out of the harbor and it wasn't going to appear again anytime in the foreseeable future.

  But the good news was that she'd accepted his offer and there was no mistaking that this time it was a date. A real, honest-to-God date.

  He'd managed to not do the touchdown thing and spike his stapler in glee when she'd accepted, and even kept his shit-eating grin down to a polite but happy smile for most of that week. When Friday rolled around, the smile faltered and he admitted to a few nerves. This wasn't an ordinary second date. He wasn't even sure it qualified in her mind as a second date but hoped it did, because it felt like it to him. So before the end of the day he surrendered, and acknowledged that the dreaded second date curse was in full swing.

  It was all about not knowing what to say, what to do, if he could fart in front of her. Everything seemed to go up a notch. He was only too aware that some of the best first dates are obliterated by second dates. The problem of timing or something else could easily nuke not only the mood, but also whatever chance he might have of building something solid between them.

  But he worried unnecessarily because, to his happy surprise, something excellent happened instead. They actually had a good time.

  By mutual consent, they opted for pizza, agreeing that it was the best and most nutritious food on the planet and only arguing mildly about toppings. He had beer and she had wine. The evening was relaxed and Phil found himself opening up to her—another surprise, since he was normally reticent about his personal life.

  They began by sharing their likes, discussing movies, music, what appealed to them and what didn't. She confessed to an addiction to Rocky Horror and he admitted that old Japanese science fiction movies could keep him up all night.

  They loved classic rock, didn't always get the current music offerings and disagreed over whether the Beatles or the Rolling Stones had been the most influential group of the sixties.

  By the time they had finished their pizza, they'd covered traveling—she didn't mind it, he was a home-town type; politics—neither were committed to anything other than fair play all around, and food. Thumbs up for pizza and steak, with a modest thumbs up from Casey for seafood. Phil preferred his entrees on the hoof, and didn't really like fish.

  As the evening wore on, more and more barriers tumbled. Phil found himself opening up and eventually mentioned the one thing he loved to do to relax. "I sketch."

  Casey tilted her head to one side. "Sketch? Like how?"

  "Most often with pencil on a scrap of paper or whatever's available. Sometimes with charcoal. That's more when I'm home and I have a picture in my head that needs to come out."

  "Wow." She raised her eyebrows. "That takes talent."

  He shrugged. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm not good. Just something I do when the mood hits."

  "You do landscapes and stuff? People?"

  He leaned back in his chair. "Depends. People are interesting. But so are cats." He grinned. "See any social network page on the Internet."

  It was time to move on. Phil hadn't meant to share quite so much, but the excitement and pleasure he was experiencing from this date had kicked away his safeguards. Hopefully she wouldn't realize quite how much his drawings meant to him or what a unique thing he'd just done by revealing something so intensely private. He'd never told any woman he'd ever dated. Or anyone else, come to think of it.

  Her next words surprised him. "I have to confess something and now seems as good a time as any. You do know I feel bad because it seems like I'm always asking you to do things for me. It would serve me right if everyone thought I was ten kinds of bitch."

  "They don't, so don't worry about it." He idly moved the salt and pepper shakers into alignment. "And honestly, I don't mind. If I did I would just say no. The few comments I have heard, about me being whipped, don't bother me. I figure being nice to people isn't a fault, so too bad if someone wants to poke at it. I don't care. And it's been my way of showing you that I was interested. Plus I hoped you might notice me."

  "I did notice. You spoiled me, Phil. I got used to you doing all those little things. I have a terrible feeling I've racked up a tab with you. Not sure how to pay it, either." She laughed. Then blushed a little as she realized what she'd just said.

  He remained silent, his gaze on her face, his mind live-streaming more actively erotic images than the fastest ISP connection to a porn site could ever handle.

  "What?" She leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand.

  "Huh?"

  "You had an odd look on your face like you were thinking about something. Just curious if you'd like to share what it was?"

  He swallowed. "You, Casey. You in a black leather outfit, hair pulled back, clothes so tight I can see everything from the points of your nipples to the split between your legs." Phil blinked a few times. "God." He gulped. "I shouldn't have said that out loud."

  "You silently think that about all your dates?"

  "Um…er…uh…no. It just slipped out. It—it was a joke." He attempted a smile.

  A wicked look crossed her face. "A joke? I don't think so." She licked her lips. "You want to know what I think?"

  God, she's gonna walk out. "I guess so."

  "I think that perhaps you're a bad boy who needs to be punished, Phil. Behind that nice demeanor there's a man who wants to be dominated by a woman. To submit to her, maybe. Yeah." She warmed to her theme. "You want to be spanked and forced to kiss her feet."

  She chuckled, a throaty little sound that made his balls ache. "You know a little kink never hurt anyone, Phil. Handcuffs, and maybe a flogger too?" She beckoned him close, closer so she could whisper. "Oh yeah, baby. Make my ass red. It hurts so good."

  Phil drew back with a snort. "Knock it off, Casey. You asked what I was thinking, so I told you. And yeah, I'm probably going to wish I hadn't, but there it is." He shrugged. Then shot her a quick glance. "Out of curiosity, d'you happen to have a black leather body suit?"

  She paused, long moments when tension built. "Actually…yeah. I do."

  He let a wide smile cross his lips. "Really. Interesting."

  "I'm not into the BDSM lifestyle, but the black leather sure is sexy and it makes me feel hot." She finished her wine and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "You'll have to wait a few more dates to see it, though."

  "I'm known for my patience."

  *~*~*~*

  She had accepted his
invitation to drop by his apartment for an after-pizza drink.

  That, of itself, was a triumph. Phil had hoped, but hadn't really expected she'd agree and when she did, he was extremely glad his cleaning lady had scheduled her visit for a couple of days ago. He knew his place was now freshly scrubbed and neat, and would likely pass the dreaded female test.

  Whatever that was.

  Probably the fact that there was no underwear hanging off his lamps and more than one sheet of toilet paper left on the roll.

  But even with this confidence-boosting knowledge, when they pulled in to his parking space there was a momentary hesitation. They looked at each other and started to laugh.

  "I feel like a teenager." Phil smiled ruefully.

  Casey blushed. "Me too. I don't know why I feel nervous though."

  "Look, if you want I could just take you home. I don't want to rush anything and spoil what has definitely been a perfect date."

  "Ending it would spoil it." She reached for the door and opened it.

  Silently he followed her, opening the door to the building for her and then leading her to his apartment.

  Like a clumsy teenager, he fumbled the keys and swore to himself under his breath. Finally the door opened. "Come on in. Let me get the lights." He stepped in and hit the switch.

  Casey looked around her and Phil gave another mental thank-you hug to his maid service. Everything looked bright, and there were no clothes strewn all over the place or dirty socks on the sofa. He thought he'd made it a nice home, and was pleased she made a point of obviously admiring the huge television hanging on the wall. He certainly wasn't compensating for anything, but if he had been, that massive screen would have made his point. He just wanted to make sure the referee made the right call when it came to yardage, and on this bad boy he could count the blades of AstroTurf between the ball and the end zone.

  "Can I get you some wine or…" He turned to her.

  She stepped up to him and leaned close. "Phil? Do you want me?"

  His heart pounded, his cock throbbed, and he struggled for the right words. "This is a trick question, isn't it?" He stared into her eyes, seeing her pupils dilate and hoping it was desire. "All I can do is show you how much…"