Something to Talk About(17)

She raised her hand to check her watch, her eyes narrowing.

Uh-oh. She was looking at the time, possibly planning for an escape.

Rip had to make a move before she decided to run.

"Come on. We're going to dance some of that off." Rip grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

Casey swayed and leaned against him. "You don't mind women draping themselves all over you, do you?" She looked up at him, her brows rising into the hair sweeping across her forehead. "You seem to be a magnet for them."

Oh, boy. Just what he needed, a drunken co-host. "I don't mind if I want her there."

"And do you want me to drape myself all over you?" She slung an arm over his shoulder, nearly clocking his temple.

He chuckled. "I want you, all right. But I prefer you to throw yourself at me sober." He was supposed to be convincing her that she loved him, not getting her drunk enough to take advantage of her. He led her back out onto the dance floor as a new song began. It was a rock and roll song.

Casey stood in one place, swaying from foot to foot, not making a move to close the gap. And the song really didn't lend itself to intimacy.

While they danced, Rip watched Casey unwind visibly, her movements gradually grew more fluid and sexy. Oh, yeah, the alcohol was affecting her. The song ended, but Rip wasn't ready to get back to his seat. They stayed for a second and a third song, after which Casey grabbed his hand to drag him off the floor.

"You're in a hurry," he said, pulling her to a halt.

Casey fanned herself with her free hand. "I'm ready for another drink. It's awfully warm in here."



       
         
       
        

Rip lifted their hands into the air and spun her deftly toward him, until their chests met.

Her wide-eyed gaze rose to his, their lips so close he could taste her fruity breath. He knew she expected a kiss, and he nearly succumbed to the temptingly plump, rosy mouth, but now was not the time-nor was the Piki Tiki the place. He wondered where that finer sentiment came from. He'd never worried about it before. All his life, he'd done everything to prove to his father that he could make it on his own-doing things his own way. He could have any woman he wanted, any way he wanted her.

But he wanted Casey, and she wasn't just any woman. She was special.

In a whisper against her lips, he said, "You're drunk."

"Nommnot," she said. "Don't you want to kiss me?" She flung out her arm. "You kissed the other girl."

"She kissed me." Rip tucked her hair behind her ears. "I don't take advantage of women who are inebriated."

An elegant eyebrow lifted. "No? Well, thass a disappointment."

Rip groaned. "Maybe we should have the bartender make you a cup of coffee." Before he could guide her toward the bar, the lights in the club grew brighter, and the club manager, Joe Huddleston, approached the microphone.

"Welcome to the Piki Tiki. Thank you all for coming. Before we start the games, we are fortunate to have a couple of celebrities in our midst, in case you didn't know. Rip O'Rourke and Casey Cramer from the morning talk show, 'Something to Talk About', are here tonight. Let's give a round of applause to our special guests."

Rip waved to the crowd around them as cheers and laughter erupted. He wrapped an arm around Casey to hold her steady and keep her from swaying.

Casey grinned and waved, leaning heavily on Rip.

When the applause ended, Joe continued, "Our first contest, this evening, is the banana-eating contest. Hey, Rip, do you think you can twist Casey's arm into entering?"

Rip shook his head. Casey would never forgive him if he let her get up on stage and make a fool of herself.

"Come on, Casey, they need some real competition," Joe said, addressing the audience around them. "Everybody, help her make up her mind."

The crowd broke into raucous applause and whistles, closing around Rip and Casey, urging them toward the stage.

"Oh, don't be such a party-pooper." Casey pushed out of Rip's embrace and marched toward the stage. "You like women who are loose and … and … out there. Why not me?"

He grabbed her hand. "Sweetheart, don't do it."

"I can eat a banananana," she slurred. "I've eaten thousands of bananananas. What's so hard about it?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or are you afraid I'll embarrass you?" 

"Babe, you couldn't embarrass me. I think you're perfect." He cupped her cheek. "But I don't think you'd do this if you were sober. You're going to hate yourself tomorrow."

She pushed his hand away. "Do you think I'd be afraid to get on the stage if I was sober? You don't know me, do you?" She poked a finger into his chest. "I'm not afraid of anything." Her chin shot up, and she pushed her shoulders back. "And I'm not a stuffed shirt." She glanced down at the button-up blouse and starched trousers she wore. "Just because I like my pants starched doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun."

The woman wasn't going to take his advice, no matter how nicely he put it. Rip's lips quirked upward, and he stood back. "Fine. Show me you know how to have a good time. Take a step on the wild side, Cramer." Rip waved her toward the stage.

Casey spun toward the stage, her frown deepening, as if she were having second thoughts.

For Rip, there was no going back. He wanted to see this side of Casey. He wanted her to let her hair down and be spontaneous. "What's the matter, Cramer? Getting cold feet? Is that why you stopped going out with me?"

She glared over her shoulder at him. "I stopped going out with you because I didn't feel like competing with all your other women." Casey stepped up onto the stage. The crowd roared their approval.

Rip smiled and clapped as he stepped back and joined the crowd. Several grinning, glowing beauties climbed onto the stage to stand in line next to Casey, followed closely by Brandy the waitress, carrying a tray laden with bright yellow bananas. She handed one to each contestant.

"Everyone have a banana?" the manager asked.

The contestants, including a reluctant and frowning Casey, held them high.

"Okay. First, the rules. This is not a competition to see who can eat their banana the fastest. This is a contest to determine who can eat their banana with the most style. You'll have three minutes to prove your prowess. The audience will choose the winner."

Rip felt Casey's spearing glance before he even looked her way. Her narrowed eyes promised retribution.

He grinned merrily and gave her a thumbs-up.

"Thank you, Brandy," Joe said. As Brandy departed the stage, the club manager raised his hand. "Okay, ladies, make your best impression, starting...now." His hand came down, and the audience screamed encouragement.

Rip watched as the women, all smiling sexily at the audience, except for Casey, started working their bananas. Casey paused. For a moment, Rip thought she would refuse the challenge, but instead she struck a pose. Rip's heart quickened as she took several deep breaths, expanding and contracting her chest, her delicately rounded breasts rising and falling. Then she let her head fall back, and her eyelids drifted closed.

Rip's heart almost stopped when the pink tip of Casey's tongue traced her upper lip.

Heat seared Rip's veins. He could feel the steady rise of his flesh tenting the front of his baggy plaid shorts. Thank goodness, he'd had the foresight to wear his Hawaiian shirt untucked.

He continued to watch in fascination as Casey slowly swung her hips from side to side and raised the banana to trace a path along her belly to a spot between her breasts. She stopped and captured his gaze, looking directly into his eyes.

Rip's breath caught and held.

Casey placed the banana lengthwise between her breasts, rolling her shoulders forward to trap the banana within the space between the two mounds. Sweat broke out on his forehead as she slid it up and down once, before pushing it up along the side of her neck to her mouth, where she laid a lush kiss against it.



       
         
       
        

His manhood pulsed in response, and he gulped.

She paused again, snapped the end, then raised the banana high and gave a teasing glance to the audience. With her teeth, she pulled one yellow peel of the banana down to the base and licked her way back up the fruit to capture the next.

The muscles of his abdomen bunched, and sweat trickled down his back.

Joe elbowed him. "Damn, she's good. What I wouldn't give to be that banana."

Rip forced a grin to his face, gave the man a sideways glance and followed the other man's stare to the source. He was staring at Casey. The man was nearly drooling. A surge of white-hot anger burst in his gut. Clenching his fists, it was all Rip could do not to punch the jerk. He turned back to Casey, wishing he'd never goaded her into entering the contest. He never would have guessed she had such a competitive streak.

Casey wrapped her lips around the tip of the banana and slid it deeply inside the cavern of her mouth, then slowly, sensuously pulled it out again. When she flicked the tip of her tongue against the end, he'd had enough. Rip stepped forward, grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her off the stage. The crowd booed in protest, but Rip put his arm around Casey's shoulders to keep her there and took the banana from her hands, tossing it onto a nearby table.