Best Friends With the Billionaire(21)

The door flew open, and one of the women stuck her head in.

“Are you decent?” Emma asked, her face flushed with excitement. “Because there’s a gorgeous stripper out here who wants to talk to you.”

Lillian turned pale. “Oh God. Is it a cowboy with a whip? Or a cop with handcuffs?”

“No, he’s in jeans and a shirt, but he asked for Cassie.”

“Cassie?”

Cassie met Lillian’s blank look. She clenched her hands in growing anger. “Oh, I see. So Ariel thinks she’ll embarrass me first. Is the guy going to bump and grind in my face? Well, bring it on.” She pushed her bare feet into the sneakers she’d discarded and grabbed Lillian’s eyelash curler from the dresser. She smiled grimly. “Ha. I’ve got the perfect tool for his G-string.”

She marched out of the bedroom, followed by Lillian and Emma. The chatter in the living room turned to whistles as Cassie entered the room. She stopped dead in her tracks as she spied the newcomer. Surrounded by four women, the lone male stood by the door, hands shoved in his pockets, a determined expression on his face.

Kirk.

She didn’t know if she gasped out his name, but from behind her Lillian spluttered.

“Kirk?” Lillian moved forward. “I don’t understand? Are you moonlighting as a stripper?”

“Hi, Lillian,” Kirk said evenly. “Sorry to crash your party, but I had to see Cassie.”

All eyes swiveled onto Cassie.

“You’re a dark horse, Cassie,” Ariel said, her eyes darting between her and Kirk. “Never knew you were acquainted with male strippers.”

“Like I said, I’m not your stripper.” Kirk’s gaze fixed on Cassie as he stepped toward her. His eyes blazed with a determination that sent a shiver right down to her toes. “Hi, Cassie.”

The shock of seeing him had left her light-headed. “Kirk, what are you doing here? I thought you were back in San Francisco.”

His voice lowered. “Can we go out for a while? Take a drive somewhere?”

“Uh…” Delight, excitement, trepidation swirled around her in a confusing fog. “Well, I don’t know. I had plans…” She glanced uncertainly at Lillian.

Lillian nudged her arm. “Go on, go with Kirk. We’ll be out late, so take the spare house key.”

“Thanks, Lillian.” Kirk gave her a brief smile. “I’ll get her back safe.”

Still dazed, Cassie handed the eyelash curler to Lillian, found her purse and the spare key, and left with Kirk. As soon as they stepped out of the house, a hubbub burst out from the other side of the door.

“You really put a rocket under them,” Cassie said. “They’re still convinced you’re a stripper.”

“I don’t think I’d have the nerve. Those women were pretty worked up, and they weren’t even drunk yet. I thought they were going to jump me.”

As they walked down the path, she cast an awed gaze over Kirk. Those gray denim jeans hugged his hips and butt to perfection, while the close fit of his charcoal shirt highlighted his bulked shoulders and chest. Lust stirred in her as well as amazement that such a gorgeous hottie like Kirk had driven two hours just to see her.

“Why were you holding those tongs?” Kirk asked as he ushered her onto the footpath.

“Oh, you mean the eyelash curlers? I thought Lillian’s maid of honor was trying to embarrass me with a stripper. I was going to snap those curlers near your G-string. You know, mess with your head.”

Kirk chuckled. “You’re impossible.” He paused, the glow from the sunset gilding his cheek. “I wonder if male strippers get hazard pay.”

“Maybe we should ask this guy.” Cassie tilted her head at a man getting out of a parked car. He was dressed as a cowboy, complete with leather chaps, Stetson, and spurred boots, and he was carrying a portable boom box. This was the stripper Ariel had booked and Lillian was still dreading.

“Looking for the bachelorette party at number fifty-six?” Cassie asked the guy.

“Yeah. I’m running late.”

Cassie took out her wallet and pressed a fifty-dollar bill into the guy’s hand. “I’d appreciate it if you went easy on the bride-to-be, but feel free to go nuts with the maid of honor. She’s the loud, bossy one. You can’t miss her. Thanks.”

They passed the stripper and reached Kirk’s car. Cassie couldn’t suppress the butterflies swarming in her stomach any longer. Their banter about male strippers had been a mask for the questions she was burning to ask him.

“Why did you come?”

“I needed to talk to you.” He opened the passenger door for her.

“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” He stood over her, his solid presence surrounding her, invading her consciousness.

She’d always been aware of Kirk’s physicality, his effortless allure, but now, after the scorching kisses they’d exchanged, and last night’s make out session on his kitchen counter, she was hyper-aware of both his potency and her weakness. She was vulnerable to everything about him, from the lock of hair curling on his ear, to the shadowed hollow of his throat, to the gleam in his eyes as he studied her with calm determination.

“Kirk…” She didn’t know what to say.

“Get in the car, Cassie.”

Her nape tingled, and goose bumps rose on her bare upper arms, even though the night was warm. She found herself obeying him. Kirk got in the driver’s seat and pulled off from the curb.

“Where are we going?” She tried to sound casual. So what if Kirk had driven all this way just to see her? No big deal.

“Want to grab a bite to eat?”

“Okay, but nothing fancy.”

“We can get some fish and chips and eat it on the beach.”

“Sounds great.”

A half hour later, they walked onto the beach, Kirk carrying a picnic blanket while Cassie held the warm parcel of food. People and dogs wandered about on the fine white sand, but the place wasn’t crowded, and there was plenty of space for everyone. Kirk spread out the blanket at the base of a slight sand hill that gave them some privacy. Cassie kneeled down on the tartan material, feeling ungainly in her black dress.

“I should have changed back into my jeans,” she said.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Kirk’s gaze drifted over her bare legs as she tried to tuck them under her. “I like the view from here.”

Her hand wobbled as she opened the parcel of fish and chips. Sooner or later, she knew, they were going to talk about last night, but she wasn’t prepared yet. She tore open a packet of ketchup and dunked a fry into it.

As if sensing her need to compose herself, Kirk didn’t say anything more about her legs, instead concentrating on the food. He talked about the baseball game, and they ate their dinner while the sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky in lilac, gold, and crimson. The spectacular sunset deserved to be appreciated, and they watched in silence, the only sound coming from the ocean breeze and a few dogs barking in the distance.

When the shimmering orb finally disappeared, Cassie let out a sigh. “That was perfect. I’d forgotten how wonderful it is to sit on a beach and watch the sun set over the ocean. In Sydney, most of the beaches face east.”

Kirk was stretched out next to her, propped up on one elbow. He twisted his head toward her. “You’ll have something to remember when you go back.”

The words were innocuous enough, but the way he said them set her on alert. Not knowing how to reply, she busied herself scrunching up the empty food wrappers and stuffing them into a plastic bag.

“Cassie, will you stop that, please?” He was close to her now, hunkered on his knees like her, no longer relaxed. She sensed his tension rising, which only multiplied hers.

“Don’t want the wind to blow our garbage all over the beach.”

He wrapped his arms around her, and instantly warm and cool shivers raced over her skin. She turned to him, breathing in his presence, every muscle coiled in anticipation and need. He bent his head toward her, and his mouth coasted over hers, gentle at first, before deepening into a red, avid fever. She drank him in, senses alive to every nuance—lips tantalizing, fingers stroking, tongue teasing. The tang of lemon on his mouth, her toes curling into cool sand, his muscles shifting beneath her palms. Kirk kissed her slowly and thoroughly, holding her close, communicating with his mouth, his caresses. His need and desire demolished the last of her resistance. She gave her all, kissing him back, softening her lips against his, curling her arms around his neck to get closer to him.

He drifted his mouth over her cheeks and temples as his hands slid up and down her bare arms.

“Goose bumps?” he murmured against her hair. “Want me to warm you up some more?”

She nodded, too happy in the moment to speak. He laid them both flat on the picnic blanket and gathered her into him, the length of his body pinning her to the ground. He resumed kissing her, and the feel of his weight sent her excitement mounting. She was no lightweight, but she’d have a hard time pushing him off. If he wanted to, he could hold her down, have his wonderful, wicked way with her. The idea thrilled her. She braced a hand against his shoulder, testing the power in his bulk. Oh yeah, he was more than strong enough.