He turned his head and smiled at her, the sight of his straight, white teeth and faint, light brown stubble on his jaw nearly undoing her. And she was pretty well undone as it was. "Are you making fun of me?"
A little. She widened her eyes innocently. "Not at all."
"We stayed under the sheet." And the couch didn't face the surrounding buildings, which, hopefully, had thwarted any would-be voyeur neighbors. "Worried your ass is going to be on YouTube?" he asked.
A joke. At his expense. She'd pegged his sense of humor. Finally. "Mine? You were on top. I'm safe."
His throat bobbed when he laughed. He looked as sexy without his glasses as he had with them. She honestly had no idea which look she preferred. Suited up, bespectacled, fresh-home-from-work Landon or stripped-down, easy smile, relaxed Landon. Given that her heart ached as she watched him now, all disheveled and relaxed, she considered the buttoned-up version of him might offer safer passage out of this affair. Then again, he'd lost the ability to look foreboding and intimidating in that suit long ago. Because she knew him now. She knew what was under that no-nonsense powerhouse. A warm, smiling, laughing man whom she liked way too much.
He tugged the sheet, dragging it dangerously low and nearly exposing her breasts. Before she flashed the world-at least a section of Lake Shore Drive-her 34 Bs, she clutched the sheet to her chest.
"We should go in," he said. "Take care of six."
Anticipation thrummed low in her stomach. "I don't see how it could possibly be better than five," she lied. Everything had been pretty darn phenomenal, each experience better than the last. She took solace that there were five more items to tick off the list.
What happens when we reach ten?
Ignoring the voice in the back of her head busily proving Mick right-that she wasn't cut out for this-she allowed Landon to help her stand. He kept her wrapped in the sheet against them as they went inside. The heated press of their nude bodies had her sighing, anxious for more of him already.
"My room," he murmured.
They kissed their way through the house, stopping to untangle the sheet from their feet. At one point, she tripped and he caught her, bracing a hand against the wall to keep them both from crashing to the hardwood floor.
"That's it." He lifted her into his arms, yanking the sheet from her body.
"No! I'm too heavy!" She covered her face with her hands when he cradled her.
He adjusted his grip, his muscles bunching against her body. "Shut up." Showing annoyingly little exertion for his efforts, he carried her down the hallway and dropped her onto her feet on his bedroom floor. His gaze danced over her bare body. The light wasn't on, and the room, washed in darkness, made her bolder than usual. She straightened her spine, pushed her breasts out. Landon kissed her so softly, so slowly, and so thoroughly, she melted into him and forgot all about the list.
An hour or so later, she lay prone on the bedding, overly satisfied and overly warm. She kicked at the comforter, and it slid off the corner of the bed and onto the floor with a shiff.
"I'm thirsty," she said.
"I'm hungry." He kissed her forehead. "Be right back."
How he'd found the energy to bolt out of his bed and strut across the room, she had no idea. She also had no complaints, because watching his athletic backside cross the carpet could easily become her new favorite pastime.
A minute later, he padded back into the room, two bags of Windy City potato chips in one hand, a bottle of water and a can of Coke balanced in the other.
"Junk food." She smiled and stretched her overexerted limbs.
"You cannot refuel on health food after the night we've had." He traipsed his naked body across the room as she blatantly stared. He didn't mind, proudly wearing only his glasses and a smile. In bed, he opened both bags of chips.
She unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and took a drink. "Do you ever wear contacts?"
"Used to. Why?"
"I once knew a guy who needed glasses but refused to wear them."
"A guy, huh?" he fished. Wisely, she stayed silent. "Why didn't he wear them?"
"He thought they made him look weak."
Landon's brows scrunched. "Really? I always thought they made me look smart."
She grinned. That "guy" she'd referred to earlier had nothing on Landon. No one did. The thought made her grin fade. He offered her the BBQ chips from the bag in his hand, but she twisted her lips and went for the jalapeño ranch.
"You like the hot stuff."
"All evidence points to that fact," she said, laying the flavorful chip on her tongue. She poked his taut abs. "Hot stuff."
He ate a few chips. In bed. Never would she have guessed neat and tidy Landon Downey nommed potato chips in bed. "You're getting crumbs everywhere," she pointed out.
As if accepting a challenge, he crammed a handful of chips into his mouth. Crumbs tracked down his chest as he crunched. She brushed them out of his chest hair, off his abs, and stopped just short of palming the impressive length of manhood lying against his thigh.
"Stop staring."
When she opened her mouth to lie and say she wasn't, he put a chip onto her tongue. She ate the spicy morsel, losing her desire to argue. "These are good."
"Good?" He reached into one of the bags between them. Leaning on one elbow, he elevated a single, perfectly round chip, dusted to ranchy, jalapeño-y perfection between his finger and thumb. "These are not good," he said sternly. "These are the cornerstone of a sexy person's pantry. These," he let his eyes wander over the surface of the chip as if he was admiring a work of art, "are the Cadillac of chips."
He winked, then popped the "Cadillac of chips" onto his tongue, munching happily as he gave her a quick lift of his eyebrows.
She repressed a laugh, but couldn't help smiling. "That's a good slogan."
"Thanks. I came up with it myself."
This man was so much more layered than she'd known. In a way, it wasn't a surprise. Being a Downey, she inherently knew Landon couldn't have bypassed the charm so easily conveyed by his brothers. Even Angel was irresistible by her own right. Landon was irresistible, too. A shame. Since Kimber's sole job after their affair was to do just that. Resist him.
Four hours later, he opened the cab door and kissed her good-bye. A lingering, sweet, delicious kiss she was sure the cabbie gladly charged on his meter. No matter. She'd spend whatever it took to stand here in front of his building and kiss Landon like this.
The accusatory voice in her head whispered that she was being schlepped off like a lady of the night when she could be inside, snuggled deep in expensive bedding against Landon's naked body. She mentally silenced that voice. Even if he had invited her to stay, she would have had to say no. She had a business to run, and whatever was between them didn't include snuggling or overnight stays.
He finished the kiss and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good night, sweet girl."
"I'm not all that sweet," she murmured, inserting a sensual husk into her voice. May as well leave him wanting more. He'd done the same for her.
Leaning in, he brushed his lips along her ear. "Yes, you are. Like honey and port and melted caramel." He licked her ear, suckled, and Kimber forgot where she was … until she grappled the cab door for support.
Oh yeah. We're in public.
She pulled away from him and offered a farewell far more casual than her feelings at the moment. "See you around."
"You know where to find me." With that, he shut her in, leaned into the open front passenger side window, and palmed the driver a very large bill.
Just like that, her Pretty Woman complex was complete.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The A/C had been set so she wouldn't freeze, but Kimber's shoulders were still cold. She maintained her position on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, unwilling to move from her elegant pose.
She didn't quite have the guts to pull off the Pretty Woman nude-while-wearing-a-tie scene-not that she'd be able to tie the dang thing-so she settled for perching on a stool in the kitchen, legs crossed, wearing the dress Glo had dropped off for her this afternoon.
Between a black and deep blue, the neck scooped down to showcase her breasts and halted mid-thigh. Glo's boobs were too big and she claimed they kept busting out of the top (the poor dear), but Kimber chose to be grateful for the hand-me-down instead of jealous that her friend was better endowed than she. Since all of Kimber's dresses were vintage, she'd accepted the offer of the sexy cocktail number, deciding to surprise Landon with an attempt at elegance.
Legs crossed, she waggled one very tall heel and stole a glance at the clock. Seven thirty. He was supposed to be home an hour ago, and so she'd been sitting here, waiting, trying not to muss her updo or fiddle with the costume jewelry around her neck and dangling from her ears. Landon was right. She was a fidgety person. His every move always seemed so controlled.