"What are you doing here?" he asked, tired of waiting, frustrated by her actions and his own wayward thoughts.
She rose to her knees again and set her hands on his chest. For several endless seconds their gazes locked. "Does it matter?"
Not at the moment, but soon it would probably matter a lot. Her words about never expecting to make love with him echoed in his head. "You hadn't intended to make love? Then what-"
"Maybe you shouldn't be thinking so hard," she said, drawing him closer.
Her touch erased all thoughts, banished all doubts, and he let go of his curiosity and kissed her instead. He forgot about Summer and opened himself up to Scarlet … .
Scarlet, who made incredibly sexy, needy sounds that vibrated from her throat, whose hands wandered over his body as he sought her in the same way. He flicked open her bra, tossed it aside, captured a nipple between his lips, then tongued the hard contours before drawing it into his mouth and savoring as she arched her back, her fingernails digging into him to keep her balance. He took as much care with her other breast, but need pounded him relentlessly, especially when she wrapped her hand around him as he throbbed and ached.
He jerked back, trying to slow down. This was probably the stupidest thing he'd done in his life, but he couldn't stop-Yes, he could. He just didn't want to.
He set his hands on her waist to help her stand, then he eased her thong down her legs. Grasping his head, she leaned over to kiss him, kissed him as he'd never been kissed before, with lips and teeth and tongue, until he couldn't wait another second. He shoved her onto her back and moved her thighs apart. He watched as he entered her, clenched his teeth at the hot tightness that enveloped him, felt her contract, heard her long, low moan that quickly escalated in volume and tempo. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back, waiting for her, then he exploded inside her. Sensation bombarded him, starting deep and low then racing through his body, even into his mind, blocking everything but feeling, hot, overwhelming feeling. It was good. She was good. Incredible … .
He resisted the return of logic and sanity, which came regardless of his wishes. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. She lay silent beside him. Silent and still. He couldn't even hear her breathe. Her perfume mingled with the earthy smell of sex. He wouldn't soon forget it.
He would never forget it.
He turned toward her-
The mattress jiggled as she rolled away from him and off the bed. She gathered up her clothes and hurried to his bathroom, shutting the door.
Shutting him out.
Scarlet tried to let her mind go blank as she dressed inside John's elegant bathroom. She focused on the black fixtures and brushed-nickel faucets. She avoided the mirror as long as she could, then she had to look.
Mascara smudges under her eyes made her skin look paler and her eyes darker than usual. She dampened a tissue and cleaned off the smudges, then finger-combed her hair, stalling, not wanting to face him again.
What had she done?
She'd only come to tell him she thought Summer had made a huge mistake in ending their engagement. Then somehow they were kissing. Scarlet had told him the truth. She'd never expected to kiss him-ever-much less make love with him. She may have cultivated a reputation for outrageousness in the past, but this was over the top, even for her.
The problem was, Scarlet had been in love with John forever, feelings she'd had to keep to herself when she realized he and Summer had discovered an affinity for each other-then they'd realized they were in love just about the time when Scarlet was going to tell Summer how she felt about John herself.
Scarlet had envied the way John had treated Summer, the way he looked into her eyes when she talked, the way he touched her whenever he was near, a sweep of a hand down her back or the surprisingly sexy brush of her curls with his fingers. But it was his consideration of Summer that had made Scarlet the most envious-how much time he spent with her. How they never seemed to run out of things to say, their discussions deep and long. How he always called to say good-night and good-morning.
Scarlet had never had a man treat her like that.
Well, consider the source.
She closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to dwell on her own shortcomings.
She'd ignored those tender feelings she'd had for John for a long time, had avoided ever having a private discussion with him, fearing he might see how she felt. She'd thought she had those feelings well under control, had made herself stop thinking about him in a romantic light when her sister had gotten serious with him, but seeing him tonight, seeing his pain, had made her realize she hadn't stopped caring, that she'd only shoved everything aside because of Summer.
And now Scarlet needed to kill those feelings once and for all. She and John couldn't have a relationship. Propriety would be reason enough, never mind that he wouldn't want to have anything to do with her beyond this night, since it would keep him in proximity with Summer, as well. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Over and done. Relegated to the memory book.
She brushed her hands down her dress then opened the bathroom door. He was still lying in bed, his hands tucked under his head, the sheet pulled up to his waist.
She hunted down her shoes, put them on, wobbling some because she was shaking.
He threw back the covers, climbed out of bed and set his hands on her shoulders. "Take it easy, okay? Nothing-"
"You could at least cover up," she said, wincing at her snippy tone.
After a moment he grinned, revealing heart-tugging dimples. She stopped a sigh from escaping. He was one fine-looking man, with those intense dark brown eyes and sandy brown hair. Who would've guessed that hidden under his boring business suits was such a remarkable body, strong, muscular and toned. Tempting.
"You're leaving, I guess," he said.
"Of course I'm leaving. Do you think I'm an idiot?" She closed her eyes. "Scratch that question." Her behavior already gave her idiocy away.
He looked at her curiously, then grabbed his briefs and donned them. "Why did this happen, Scarlet?"
She searched for a reason he would believe. The only thing that came to mind was what Summer had confided earlier that day when she'd told Scarlet that she was ending her engagement with John-that even though she'd loved him, there had been a complete lack of chemistry between them. For months she'd thought she was just sublimating her passion, so that she could avoid sleeping with him until their wedding night. One hour with rock star Zeke Woodlow had changed all that.
But Scarlet couldn't believe that Summer had been talking about the same man who'd just made love to her. Lack of chemistry? Not a chance. The man Scarlet had just made love to took passion to a whole new level.
"Cat got your tongue?" John asked.
All she could do was give him a weak smile.
"Why did this happen?" he repeated.
"Because we got carried away?"
"I know why I would, but why would you?"
She couldn't tell him she loved him, so what could she say? After a few seconds, she felt him touch her cheek. The tenderness of the gesture almost made her throw herself into his arms.
"I figure you know I never slept with your sister."
She nodded. "She was wrong, though. You are a passionate man."
His mouth quirked. "Maybe it's just you. Maybe you brought that out in me." He brushed her hair behind an ear, then rubbed her earlobe. "How about helping me hone my skills? I never want to disappoint another woman."
"This is no time to joke. You don't need lessons, and we have no future together. What happened shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry."
He narrowed his gaze. "Sorry? For what?"
"I know you must be hurt and angry, and you probably even want revenge, but please, please, don't tell anyone what happened," she said, then walked away before he could say or do anything to stop her. She was confused, not sure why she had done what she'd done, or what she could do about it now. She needed to get away and think. She grabbed her purse off the living-room floor and raced out the door, then hurried down a flight of stairs just to get away fast. She picked up the elevator on the next floor.
The doorman called good-night as she left the building. She stepped into the cold, damp evening and realized she'd forgotten her coat. She couldn't go back for it.
She couldn't go home, either, to her grandparents' town house where she and Summer shared the top floor. Summer probably wasn't even home, might even be with Zeke, but Scarlet didn't want to take the chance. She would get a hotel room for the night, order a bottle of wine, take a hot bath and figure out where she'd gone wrong.