Insatiable(2)
Insatiable
3
He was watching her again.
If he were being honest, Shawn could admit he"d spent a great deal of his thirty years watching Rachel. But he wasn"t a stalker. Alas, no, he was her closest friend, which in some ways was even worse.
She wasn"t gorgeous in the conventional California sense. Her curves, currently displayed in a black jersey dress, were a shade too generous, her dark hair a tad too unruly as it cascaded over her sun-kissed shoulders. Her eyes weren"t a tranquil blue, but an intense, snapping brown that made any other color seem bland in comparison.
He"d been in love with her for, oh, half a dozen years or so, and in serious infatuation even before that.
But Rachel wasn"t in love with him. Instead, she"d chosen to give her love—or its nearest statistical equivalent—to a number of their town"s eligible men. And now, while Shawn sipped his Grey Goose martini at the latest in the long string of parties that had dotted his summer, she danced with bachelor number thirty-five.
He"d cajoled her to come with him to this thing, but she wasn"t dancing with him. Nope. She preferred to dance with the first himbo who twirled the pretty pink umbrella in her mixed drink.
Maybe she teased guys as easily as she breathed, but she didn"t sleep with most of the men she dated. Nah, his Rachel never held back the deets when it came to her conquests.
Or at least she hadn"t before the last couple months. Lately, she"d been reticent to discuss anything deeper than which movie they should rent.
Hell, it wasn"t like he actually wanted to hear about her lovers. Not that he hadn"t had a couple of his own in the recent past, mainly to make it seem like he wasn"t some lovesick jerk following around a woman who viewed him as the only guy she could watch chick flicks with.
He hated chick flicks, but what was he supposed to do? Thus far, tearing up the sheets hadn"t been on the table.
“You planning on sitting here brooding all night?” Rachel grabbed the seat beside him, then the drink out of his hand. He"d saved her his olive, which she snagged off the tiny sword with a slick lip roll that made him shift uncomfortably in his Armani suit. “Not that it doesn"t work.”
“What works?” Shawn motioned to a passing waiter. Almost immediately, another martini was in his hand and Rachel was again after his olive.
If only…
“The whole broody male thing. That dangerous, leave-me-alone aura paired with a dark gray suit that fits like a wet dream.” She laughed at his swift glance in her direction. “No wonder none of the women dare approach you.”
4
Cari Quinn
He took back his martini. Damned if she didn"t set his cock twitching with every flirtatious swish of her tongue over her mouth. “You did.”
“You don"t scare me.” Leaning in, Rachel tangled her nails in his blond hair and tugged. “I"ve seen you naked, remember?”
“That was thirteen years ago.” He edged back, hoping to avoid picking up her scent on his clothes. She always smelled of coconuts and sun-warmed tanning lotion, an irresistible combination to a man who"d grown up with the Pacific practically in his backyard. “And I"ll remind you, you interrupted me in the middle of a cold shower.”
She flipped his toothpick between her fingers. “Uh-huh. Next, you"ll tell me you weren"t through puberty yet.”
Shawn was about to toss back his answer—and yeah, she"d hit the nail on the head—when a sickening thought caused his already knotted stomach to plummet.
Was that why Rachel refused to consider him as anything but buddy material? Of all the possibilities he"d entertained, her thinking he had a small penis hadn"t been on the list.
For one stony moment, he contemplated his drink. Then he slanted her a slow, measuring look. “Anytime you want to see what"s under the hood, Rach, just let me know.”
To his unending pleasure, she flushed. “No, thanks.” She cleared her throat.
“I"ll just ask one of your harem if I"m curious.”
“What harem?”
She jerked a thumb ringed with a narrow silver band toward the opposite side of the property. Three women of varying heights with glimmering blonde hair and brightly hued minidresses stood together, avidly watching him and Rachel.
Mindy, Mandy, and Michelle. He"d enjoyed all three of them at one time or another over the past year.
“They"re friends.” Shawn shrugged and pushed away his drink. He"d be damned if he drowned his sorrows in vodka all night.
“Friends who want seconds.”
He flashed a grin. “Or thirds.”
Rachel tossed her long dark hair, and the ends whipped across his cheek, stirring her scent. And his blood. “Pig.”