She thought about it, too. He could tell by the way she tipped her chin … And he was kissing her again. With no more invitation than that. He moved his lips slowly, gently over hers, his fingers resting on her neck, his thumbs under her chin. Then it was over and he was pulling his head back to train his eyes on hers.
"I want you." He brushed her lip with the pad of one thumb. "Badly."
She watched him, motionless and silent instead of fidgety and flabbergasted.
A good sign. "Say something."
"This is the part where I'm supposed to say this is a bad idea, right? That we should be responsible and think of Lyon and not get involved."
"Probably," he admitted.
Her eyes turned up to his. "I don't want to say that."
His hopes levitated. Hopes he had no reason to feel. Kimber wasn't like the women he'd dated before. She wasn't cold and calculating. Most of his girlfriends past were career-driven and would sooner dive into oncoming traffic than leave work for a week to do him a favor. Paid or not.
Despite his reasoning not to encourage her, he did. "Then say what you want."
"I want you," she whispered.
He wasn't the kind of guy led around by the silent partner in his pants. Did most of his thinking with the head on his shoulders. But he was having trouble processing-recalibrating-since those three words had tightened a cord of longing attaching his sternum to his balls.
"Honey," he rasped, tightening his hold on her arms. "You can have me." He went for her lips, but she spoke before he caught them.
"But it could only be temporary."
He hadn't expected her to say something along those lines. Her face clouded with doubt, her words a question rather than a statement that she waited for him to confirm. Yet she'd spoken with authority. Certainty. Almost like she was letting him down easily.
He'd play along. For now. "Okay." She had assured him last night that he didn't have to handle her with kid gloves. "Tell me what you had in mind."
Because he had no clue what she was thinking. Lissa had been easy to figure out. She'd always been thinking of one of two things: herself or her career. Kimber, though … the sky was the limit.
"We can make a list … of things to do. Together … " She flinched, just a little, making him fairly sure she didn't make a habit of creating sex lists with men. Thank God. "When we reach the end of the list," she said, "we can end things … no harm, no foul."
Well, hell. He liked that. A lot. But he wasn't this much of a Cretan. "Honey, you don't have to talk yourself into this. If this is going to be a struggle-"
She surprised him by laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth as if she'd surprised herself, too. Lifting her eyes, she met his gaze with that soft, green stare of hers. "It won't be a struggle for me. I've wanted you for as long as I can remember."
His chest expanded as he pulled all the oxygen he could hold into his lungs. He suddenly wanted to do right by this woman. This honest, sexy, amazing woman. Winding her hair around his fingers, he tested its softness. "Dorothy and the Tin Man," he murmured.
"You're not that heartless," she said. "And I'm not that innocent."
She tipped her lips and kissed him. His hands found the back of her neck as his eyes fell closed. Soon the kiss turned deeper, then borderline rough. His only thoughts were the taste of her, the feel of her against him, his ratcheting pulse rushing the blood to his crotch.
Until the television rattled from a digital explosion. Lyon cheered from the other room, and Landon pulled his lips from Kimber's and tried to catch his breath. Their privacy had yet to be breached. But it would be, and long before he'd gotten as far as he wanted.
"So?" she asked, licking her lips. "What do you think of my proposal?"
With a sly grin, he pulled her a fraction closer so that her body pressed up against his. He thought it was perfect. He wasn't in any position for a girlfriend-arranged or not-so her suggestion couldn't have fit into his life any better. They wanted one another and she, for whatever reason, didn't want to have a commitment. This was gift wrapped for him.
"What kind of list?" he asked.
"Top ten?" she suggested, a mischievous light in her eyes.
He loved how she kept surprising him. "As you wish."
"Then a clean break," she affirmed with a nod. This was an important part of the agreement, he was seeing. He wasn't sure why but wasn't foolish enough to ask.
"Ten locations?" He leaned in and breathed into her ear, loving how she shuddered. "Or ten positions?" He had no trouble thinking of twenty of each, maybe twenty-five, but he didn't want to send her fleeing.
"Both," she whispered when he kissed her neck. He lingered there a moment, tasting her skin before lifting his face to kiss her lips. She put her palm on his cheek to stop him. "What about Lyon?" she asked. "He rarely sleeps through the night."
So she wanted to do this tonight. He was flattered. And excited. He didn't want to wait, either. "Guess we'll have to be quiet." He smiled. "I'll add that to the list."
She chuckled, a decadent sound matching the rich mahogany tones in her hair. "I feel like we're making battle plans."
"Not battle." No, making love to Kimber Reynolds wouldn't be a battle. It'd be nothing short of incredible; a perfect release of the tension he'd been stockpiling since he'd landed the Windy City account and his brother had appeared on his doorstep.
Locking his arms around her waist he kissed her again, tugging her against him. Like before, he eased into her, losing the pressure of the day in her mouth. His knotted shoulders lowered from his ears. But this kiss … this kiss was a promise of more. Tonight if they could swing it.
As much "more" as we can squeeze in after Lyon's bedtime.
CHAPTER NINE
After she escaped Landon's interlocking arms, Kimber retreated to her bedroom using the excuse of a shower. She'd been thorough, shaving every part of her body and following up with a sheen of moisturizer.
You can do this. You can do this.
She could. The hard part was over. The part where she'd suggested they use each other up. It was a tinge disconcerting how quickly he'd agreed. Purposefully, she threw her shoulders back. She was not over-thinking this. Fun-night stands, by definition, were supposed to be fun. And she intended to have some freaking fun for once. As she closed her eyes, she took a deep breath. A fun, sexy romp. A roll in the hay. Nothing more.
Don't make this into anything more.
With that mantra ringing in her ears, she opened a dresser drawer to search for passably sexy underwear. She hesitated over her underthings, laughing darkly when the closest thing she'd found to a set was a pair of black panties and a charcoal gray bra.
Landon's last girlfriend had been a Victoria's Secret model, for goodness' sake, and Kimber couldn't find a matching set of lingerie. Her undergarments were far more function than form. Sturdy, not clingy or lacey or particularly sexy.
They would have to do. She wouldn't be wearing them long, anyway.
This is such a bad idea. Like seeing a train's headlight in the distance but refusing to step off the tracks.
Stop it. No more analyzing.
Glo may be a party girl, but she had her moments of pinpoint insight. And her friend's call on the situation with Landon was right on. Kimber and Landon wanted one another. Neither of them was in the space where they wanted more than something physical. This was the perfect solution.
Kimber, for one, was wildly attracted to him. She hadn't worked out yet if she was just convenient to him or if he really liked her, but she'd concluded it didn't really matter. It isn't like we'll be making holiday plans together.
After agonizing over what to wear, she settled on an off-the-shoulder striped T-shirt and short cotton shorts. She left her feet bare and navigated the hallway until she reached the living room. There she found Landon, in his suit pants, arm flung over the back of the couch with Lyon's head resting on his leg. It was so cute, her heart gave a little tug.
No tugging. This is your fun-night stand. No tugging allowed unless it's in the bedroom.
"Couldn't resist the lure of Henry Cavill, I see." Landon nodded at the screen.
"Who can?"
Lyon shushed them, eyes glued to the screen. Landon's lips twitched in amusement as he reprimanded him by ruffling his hair and saying, "Don't be rude. I am allowed to speak."
She sat on the couch at Lyon's feet, snuggling into the fabric and calming her nerves with a deep breath. No matter what, she wouldn't sit here and fret over what might happen tonight. Over the agreement she'd made-the agreement she'd needed to make. An agreement that would allow her to have a clean slate, a do-over.