After Hours Bundle (55 page)

T
HREE HOURS LATER
, Kate sipped at another mojito in a Brazilian restaurant that Alejandro had taken her to. With a feeling of unreality, she watched the girls dancing on the bar in their tiny skirts with plenty of cheeky cheek hanging out.

It was cheeky cheek clad in fishnet tights, cheeky cheek decorated with thongs in various colors and cheeky cheek displayed with garters and thigh-high stockings.

Alejandro laughed at her expression and squeezed her shoulders. “They don't do this in Cape Cod, eh?”

Kate shook her head emphatically. “No, they do not.” She took another sip of her mojito, transfixed by all the sassy little asses up there, gyrating and wiggling like ripe, tempting fruit.

She looked around at the men in the restaurant, all of whom looked highly appreciative of the entertainment. “You could feed these guys Alpo and they'd never notice. I bet all of them walk out of here with the worst cricks in their necks.”

“Ah, but the food and drink are so good that they don't mind.” Alejandro winked at her. “Besides, I think you're in for an unexpected treat,
mi corazon.
It's not only the men who get sore necks.”

And sure enough, when the music stopped the three Brazilian girls were helped down from the bar by some very handsome young men, all of whom swung themselves up onto the bar and began a most interesting dance of their own.

Kate's chin dropped onto the straw in her drink, leaving a circular indentation that she'd probably have for the next couple of days. Chippendales had nothing on these guys! They were smoking hot. Two of them looked like they could bench-press Volkswagen Beetles for hours, while the one in the middle had butt and thigh muscles that were beyond drool-worthy. In fact, Kate had never seen a man who could do such things with his pelvis! He swiveled, he thrust, he grinned suggestively…and he did it all in perfect time to the dance music.

Women all over the restaurant began clapping and yelling encouragement, hooting and egging him on. The dancers managed to be far more erotic than any stripper Kate had seen at a bachelorette party—without taking anything off.

Her initial shock faded into delight. There was no sleaziness, no cheesiness. Just three men up there having the time of their lives performing for women. Okay, so they had hot sweaty chests—one of them wore an open vest, the others tight T-shirts. And their pants were certainly not baggy.

“Kate, you want to get up there with them and shake it?” Alejandro teased.

Yes.
“Absolutely not. I've got a great view right here.” She wasn't ready to share her silly goal with Alejandro.

“You mean Spinneys don't dance on bars, either?”

Hell, no! Which is why I want to. But I'm not drunk enough.
She stuck her tongue out at him. Of course, his response was to chase it into her mouth and recapture it with his teeth. She fell headlong into Alejandro's kiss, wrapping her arms around him and not even protesting when he pulled her off her bar stool and onto his lap.

He tasted sweet, of mint and rum—and spicy as well, from the remnants of the
ahi
sauce. She could feel his arousal pressing against her bottom, and it sent a flash of heat through her. She pulled back from his mouth and whispered, “You're insatiable!”

He nodded, his teeth flashing white in the low lighting. “Yes, for you,
mi corazon.
” The gold chain around his neck gleamed, and she reached out a finger to touch it. She disapproved of it, as she did of any jewelry on men, but it gave him a dangerous, exotic look.

“I know you hate it, Kate.”

She met his gaze ruefully.

“But I'll never take it off. It was a gift from my mother.”

She tried to imagine her own mother giving any man a gold chain, and giggled helplessly. She never giggled, and it embarrassed her. Then again, she never kissed men in public, and she certainly never sat in their laps in restaurants. What was happening to her? Her inner rebel was going nuts.

“Why is that funny?” Alejo asked, perplexed.

“It's not. I just thought of my own mother. The last thing she gave me was a pair of itchy wool socks. Around the holidays, she orders weird things in bulk from catalogs and sends everyone she knows the identical weird thing for that year. She hates shopping, and she's not into sentiment, either.”

Alejandro stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes and seeing far more than she wanted him to see. Kate slid off his lap and climbed into her own barstool again. The tables were all bar height, probably so patrons could have an uninhibited view of the dancers each night.

Two of the men swung down from the bar, and helped a girl up to dance with the sweaty chested man in the vest. She was one of the most naturally beautiful women Kate had ever seen, with a long, lithe body and gorgeous, wavy chestnut hair. Her costume was tiny but relatively tasteful, and the male dancer seemed to worship her with his eyes.

They danced as if they'd been created for one another, in perfect synergy and with quiet passion. Kate watched them with her heart in her throat, moved. Alejo smiled at her and took her hand.

“They are gorgeous together, are they not?”

She nodded. “How can they be so overtly sexy, but so poetic at the same time? It's phenomenal.”

He squeezed her hand. “Yes. These two are world-class. Like you.”

Kate was taken aback. “Like me? What are you talking about—I can't dance.”

“I wasn't talking about dancing, Kate.” His dark eyes were serious. “But I will teach you.” He stood up and held out his hand.

“What? No!”

The two professionals on the bar ended their performance with an exotic pirouette, after which the man dipped the girl so far back that her head touched the surface of the bar, her body perfectly parallel to his extended leg.

Kate actually blinked away a tear, they were so magnificent together. The whole restaurant exploded with applause. And still Alejandro stood there patiently, his hand extended toward her. She shook her head.

“Come on,
mi amor.
I will teach you.”

“I am not standing up in front of all these people and making a fool out of myself,” she hissed.

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Ah,” he said. “Spinneys don't dance, either? You know, Spinneys, in my opinion, are repressed, intolerant and don't know how to have fun.”

“Easy, sport,” she said in a tight voice. But he spoke the truth. And how was she going to dance on a table by her thirtieth birthday if she couldn't even dance on a floor?

“Kate, do you know any of these people?”

She shook her head.

“Are you ever likely to see them again?”

She shrugged.

“Then why do you care if you make a fool out of yourself in front of them?”

“I just do.”

“Spinneys are logical, too, I see.”

Kate gritted her teeth.

“I won't let you make a fool out of yourself,” he promised. “Now come.” He forcibly lifted her out of the chair and walked with her to the small dance floor in the back of the restaurant, setting her down just as she socked him in the stomach. “
Ooof.
Was that really necessary?”

He seized her by one hand and pulled her against his body, clamping his other hand firmly on her ass while she glared at him.

Then he began to dance a basic salsa, leading her along with him. She stumbled, stepped on his foot and tried to pluck his hand off her bottom, but he ignored her and just tightened his hold.

She found herself moving along with him despite her best efforts not to, in a sexy and deeply rhythmic sort of waltz. Her hips swayed with his, her feet tapped with his, her thighs brushed his.

She had an unfortunate tendency to try to lead, but Alejandro simply overwhelmed it and steered her backward every time she attempted to fight him.

He moved her in circles for a while, and then unexpectedly swung her out and under his arm, drawing her back to him for more close dancing. He pressed against her tightly, and she could feel his erection again, this time against her belly.

Before she knew it, Kate was actually laughing and having fun. She felt her inhibitions slip away along with her tendency to fight him and try to lead. Their movements began to become more fluid as she got used to him and anticipated his steps.

“Perfecto, mi amor,”
he murmured into her ear. “You are very sexy once you just let go.”

Nobody had ever called her
sexy
before. Kate knew she was a lot of things: direct, forceful, smart. But she'd never thought of herself as sexy in the least. Not until now, with this miraculous man who made her
feel
sexy.

Alejandro swung her out again, and her hair flew out around her as he spun her right back into his arms, this time somehow managing to end with her back to him. He caught both of her hands and moved with her spoon-style, snugging his cock against her lower back, letting her know how much he wanted her. He spun her again as the song ended, pulling her to him for a deep, hard kiss.

Kate was doing it again: indulging in mad, passionate PDA with abandon. And she didn't care. Alejandro's mouth on hers was too wonderful, too full of erotic promises. He whispered into her ear what he was going to do to her later, and sexual electricity streaked through her body, igniting all of her fantasies.

If any of the Spinneys could see her now, they'd be deeply shocked—and that suited Kate just fine.

 

W
HEN SHE RETURNED
to her apartment the next morning, Wendell ambushed her with half a croissant in his hand. “Where have you been, young lady?”

Is he for real?
She almost turned and walked back out the door. “Did you get a croissant for me, too?”

“No.”

It figures.

“Kate, I asked you a question.”

“And I obviously declined to answer it, Wendell.”

“You've been rolling in the hay with that greaseball again. You look like a whore. You're acting like one, too. Don't you have any class at all?”

Kate gritted her teeth. Almost everyone had at least one undesirable relative, but this one took the cake. “Wendell, for starters, where I go is none of your business. Second, I don't want to know your opinion on anything at all. And third,
when the hell are you leaving?
”

He drew himself up, a hurt expression on his face. “You don't have to get so hostile, Katy.”

“Yes, I obviously do! You've been camped out here for over a week now, tormenting me. Why?”

“Because I'm concerned about you.”

“Ha! That's such a load. Tell me the real reason.”

“I am,” he insisted. “You're not behaving like yourself. Like a Spinney. We have a family name to uphold.”

“No, Wendell, you're not here out of concern for me. You're here to keep your expense account in balance, since you probably bought something you shouldn't have with company funds.”

Guilt flitted over Wendell's face.

“Gotcha! You know they won't look too closely at your fudged numbers if the totals are reasonably consistent. Well, if you're going to show up and use me as a hotel, then at least do me the favor of not verbally abusing me!”

“I don't—”

“Yes, you do. So stop it. And don't blackmail me, either. You can also quit complaining about my animals, and just
maybe,
when you go out for breakfast next time, bring me back something, too!”

He blinked and looked down at his half-gnawed croissant. He extended it to her. “Do you want the rest? It's a little stale.”

“I'm surprised you didn't call the authorities on the bakery.”

“I thought about it,” he admitted. “But my cell phone battery was low.”

Kate put her hands to her temples. “So, again, when are you leaving?”

Wendell scuffed the toe of his shoe around on her kitchen floor. “I came to stay with you because I wanted to see you, too, Katy.”

“Oh, spare me.”

“It's true,” he insisted. “You're the only decent one in the family. The only one who's ever even
borderline
nice to me.”

Kate stared at him. Her stupid, gullible heart turned over at his words. It wasn't completely Wendell's fault that he was obnoxious. He'd been brought up by a grand total of twenty-three nannies, a revolving door of household help who'd only looked at him as an unpleasant way to earn a paycheck. Only a couple of them had been patient and dedicated enough to really try with the child, and when he'd lost them, too, he'd gotten even worse.