She was halfway to the door when she finally found the strength to dig in her heels. “Wait. Do you hear the way we’re talking?”
“I know I’d like to stop talking.”
“Just think about it. I said, ‘I have some fantasies in mind for you.’ You said, ‘I want to touch you… Let me show you.’ You see what that means, don’t you?”
“We want each other?”
“More than that, we each want to be in charge. We’re both control freaks, so to speak. Admit it. Don’t you want to be in control when you’re in a business deal?”
“You bet.”
“And I am always in control in the lab. I have to be.”
Lucas considered her for a minute. “What exactly are you saying, Doc?”
“We have a problem, and there’s only one solution.” She turned it over in her mind a few times, then said, “We’ll have to take turns.”
“Take turns?”
“Being in charge, calling the shots, whatever you want to call it. The first time we make love, I get to call the shots, create a fantasy, whatever I want. The next time, you’re in charge. You can do whatever you want.”
Lucas considered the idea for a moment. “How do you get to go first?”
She lifted her chin. “This whole thing was my idea. I flew all the way down here with the original proposition. And I just came up with a compromise so that two control freaks can work together. Clearly, I get to go first.”
“How about we flip?” he asked, pulling a coin out of his pocket. Before she could agree or protest, the coin was spinning upward into the sunshine.
“Heads,” she called as he snatched it out of the air. Holding her breath, she watched his fingers slowly open.
“Heads it is,” Lucas said.
Mac beamed a triumphant smile at him. “I’m going to freshen up. I’ll meet you down in the lounge in thirty minutes.”
“The lounge?” His face looked as incredulous as when she’d called him sweet. “Why do we have to go to the lounge when we have a perfectly good suite?”
“My call. And the fantasy I have in mind requires a different setting.”
SHE WAS DRIVING him crazy. That much he knew. But now Lucas was beginning to suspect she was doing it on purpose. A glance at his watch told him that thirty minutes had lengthened into forty-five. No, forty-six.
Had he actually begun to count the minutes?
He glanced around the spacious but crowded lounge. Three TV sets hung from the ceiling over the bar, each one offering a muted version of a different sporting event. Other than that, the decor was rain forest, with moss dangling from the walls and ceiling, and exotic-looking plants bursting out of clay pots. Water dribbled steadily over rocks behind his booth and shot up in bright, colorful spouts from a pool twenty feet to the left of his table.
Directly ahead, beyond a wall of glass, the dimness gave way to light. Though the midday sun beat down mercilessly on the water, a few swimmers still sought relief from the heat in the coolness of the lagoon. Most guests were inside, enjoying the benefits of air-conditioning.
There was no sign of Mac anywhere. He lifted his beer, drained it, and thought of the perfectly good champagne he’d abandoned in the suite… And of what they could be doing right now. After what had happened at the cabin—he still couldn’t figure it out. He’d never before desired a woman with that kind of intensity. And he’d never made love to a woman with less finesse.
He wanted to give Mac romance. There was a definite air of innocence about her that made him want to seduce her slowly—with champagne, soft music. When the bellhop had given them that whirlwind tour of the suite, he’d pictured undressing her and making love with her on that large, smooth bed. Then he would have carried her to the Jacuzzi where they would have finished the rest of the champagne and then made love again. Very slowly.
But she’d decided he was a control freak. No one else he’d dated had ever complained.
But then Mac was unlike anyone else he’d ever wanted to make love to.
He tapped his fingers on the table. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring her here. If they’d stayed at the cabin, he wouldn’t be sitting alone in a bar, nursing a beer. They could be lying right now on that narrow bed.
Leaning against the back of the booth, he allowed the image to slip into his mind—those smooth legs wrapping around him, drawing him closer, trapping him. Right now he could be pushing into her heat, withdrawing and pushing in again. Deeper. He could almost feel her wet, silk heat closing around him.
“If you’re not waiting for someone…”
Lucas’s eyes shot open at the voice. It was Mac’s. Perhaps a little huskier. But the blonde standing a few feet away from his table had to be a stranger. Still half caught up in the fantasy he’d fashioned in his mind, he blinked and tried to focus.
She wore a bright red skirt, barely the length of a dinner napkin. It fit her like a second skin and seemed to stop where her legs began. His throat went dry as his gaze moved down the length of them, then back up to where the skirt rode high on her thighs. Was she wearing anything beneath it?
“That outfit…” he began.
When she whirled in front of him, the skirt inched even higher.
“You like it?”
“Mac?” He dragged his gaze from the miraculous legs up her body to her…. He could see her nipples through the stretchy fabric of the tank top—perfect little buds. With great effort he managed to focus on her face. Her blond hair looked mussed, as if some man had just run his hands through it several times. And her eyes—they were huge, heavy-lidded…and there was no mistaking that golden-brown color.
“Mac, what in hell are you doing?”
In a flash she had slid in beside him in the back of the booth. “Shh.” She gave him a slow wink. “You’re mistaken. I’m not Mac. I’m Sally. And you’re…” She paused to slip a finger beneath the button of his polo shirt and flick it free of its hole. “You’re John.”
“John?”
“My first of the day.” Leaning closer, she lowered her voice. “We’re complete strangers. We’ve never met before. You saw me on the beach when you were docking your boat, and you’ve just invited me to join you in your very fancy hotel for a drink. I’ve never been in a place quite like this before.”
Pausing, she glanced around, then dipped her finger into the water that ran over the rocks behind them. Slowly, she ran her damp finger along his jaw, then down his throat until she could unfasten the next button of his shirt.
“Mac—”
She leaned closer. “It’s Sally. The fantasy will be more enjoyable if you let yourself get into it. Since you didn’t want to fill out the questionnaire, I chose one of the most popular ones—sex with a perfect stranger.”
She freed another button on his shirt.
“I’m hoping you’ll like it. This too.”
She set a package on the table. “I stopped in the gift shop and got you a surprise. Take a look and tell me what you think.”
He was finding it difficult to think at all while he could feel the hard pebbles of her breasts brushing against his arm. But he found his gaze wandering to the bag. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought him a surprise. It had been sweet of Mac to think of it—except that it might not have been Mac but Sally who’d bought him the gift.
Her fingernail traced a line down the center of his chest, sending little ribbons of heat outward and downward. Then her fingers were on his belt, pulling it free. He clamped his fingers around her wrist. “Stop.”
“You don’t really want me to.” Her free hand dropped to his thigh.
“We’re in a public place.” The ribbons of heat had burst into flames where her hand was resting. “Let’s go.”
“You’re embarrassed. That’s so cute.”
“Cute?” He stared at her for a minute. All he could see was a mixture of amusement and excitement in her eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
She leaned closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Because I’m Sally. Getting into these clothes really helped. I think you’d enjoy it too if you could get into the fantasy. In one survey, fifty-three percent of the men fantasized about having sex with a stranger they picked up in a bar. Thirty-five percent of those wanted the stranger to be a hooker. Have you ever had either of those fantasies?”
“No. I told you I don’t have them.”
“Never paid for sex?”
“No.”
“A first-time John. My favorite,” she said. He didn’t think it was possible but she suddenly seemed closer. “Think about what I’d promised you we’d do when I persuaded you to invite me here.” Her fingers traced a delicate pattern on his inner thigh as they moved higher.
“Doc, you can’t.” The words erupted on a moan.
“Want me to tell you what I promised to do?” The words were just a breath in his ear.
“Mr. Wainright, sir…”
Lucas turned to face a tall man wearing a conservatively cut suit with an insignia that marked him as a member of the hotel’s staff.
“Is this lady bothering you?”