IOU Sex (2 page)

Christ Almighty, the man was ridiculously gorgeous and evoked the most carnal sensations deep within me. Lust was not something I felt on a regular basis, but when I was with Michael, I couldn’t escape it. I had naughty desires in spades!

When I turned back to him, one corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin.

He said, “Feeling a little hot and bothered, babe?”

“Do you call every woman that?” I countered, purposely ignoring his question.

He didn’t call me on my cowardice. Instead, he gave a slight shake of his head and answered my query. “Just you.”

I didn’t know if I believed him or not. He was, after all, as famous for his sexual exploits as he was his photos. His most recent conquest had been a lingerie model. At least, that’s what I’d read in last month’s tabloids. Thinking of this prompted me to ask another direct question. “Still with Lena Kensington?”

Another shake of his head. “Not for the past couple weeks. I wouldn’t be coming on to you tonight if I were. I know better than that.”

I had to give him points for being so astute. He knew my boundaries.

We’d been good friends when I was engaged to Seth. He and Jane were the only people who knew how truly heartbroken I’d been when I’d found out about the affair. I’d confided in Michael because he was easy to talk to, and he’d been genuinely concerned about me. I trusted him with my secret pain, though not my heart. Once bitten, yadda yadda.

“I’m not the one-night stand type,” I reminded him. “You’re not into commitment. I guess that resolves the sex issue. As in, we’re not getting it on tonight or any other night.”

Oddly, I felt disappointment over that statement. But I had to stick to my guns.

He seemed to contemplate my words for a moment before setting aside his drink and scooting closer to me. He took my wine glass and put it next to his on the coffee table.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my sudden panic echoing in the cavernous room.

“Relax,” he said as he draped an arm along the back of the sofa. His fingertips grazed my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin at the light touch. I could feel the heat from his skin and smell the faint scent of Hugo Boss, the cologne I’d given him on his last birthday. All of which made my body hum with a curious energy that was downright electrifying.

He moved in closer, and I felt the alarm rise within me.

Danger, Danger!

I had the feeling he wasn’t taking
no
for an answer tonight. Feared he just might finally sway me to say
yes
. I was treading in very murky waters with no life preserver in sight. Was it possible I didn’t want one?

Oh, Fiona, Fiona.

What had I gotten myself into?

He grinned down at me, giving me a look that said he knew exactly what I wanted. “Go ahead. Ask me your favor.”

I stared at him. His sky-blue eyes mesmerized me as they glowed softly from the flickering light of the fire. The snazzy jazz tunes created a sexy mood. The fingers sweeping over my shoulder and brushing against my neck served as soldiers of seduction, entrancing me and drawing me further into a sexual haze I couldn’t escape.

I could barely breathe as his gaze remained locked with mine, heat and passion swirling in his azure irises. My breasts felt a little heavier with my own desire. My nipples were impossibly hard and in need of his touch. I ached for him to reach over and unbutton my blouse. Unfasten my bra and palm my breasts before sucking on my nipples.

How my wanting him had gotten so out of control so quickly was beyond me. Or perhaps it had something to do with knowing firsthand how thoroughly he could pleasure me. He’d scratch that itch, all right. And then some.

“Michael,” I said in a voice that did not sound like my own. It was much too sultry and provocative to belong to such a sensible woman. Nor did it hold the protest I meant to make. Clearing my throat, I tried again. “Let’s keep this on a friendly basis.”

“I can be very friendly,” he said as he moved in for the kill. His lips hovered over mine, and I couldn’t rally the strength to move away. “Tell me you want me. The rest will work itself out.”

Was I really that transparent? Had he known when I’d called that I was in need of more than just a favor from him? Did men like Michael Houston have a sixth sense when it came to secretly horny women?

Likely.

Oh, boy. Now I knew I was in way over my head.

“This really isn’t the direction I wanted this conversation—or this visit—to go.” I was pleased with my determination to regain some control. Too bad my still-sultry voice undermined my words.

He grinned again. He was so close to me, I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. He smelled of expensive Scotch, the cologne I loved and pure male heat. An intoxicating combination that made my mind reel and my pussy ache.

His lips brushed over mine. A whisper of a kiss. A hint of wicked things to come. It made my stomach flip and my pulse race. My eyelids suddenly felt heavy and lowered slightly of their own accord.

“Michael,” I said on a soft, shallow breath.

“Yes, Fiona?” His low tone matched mine.

The fire snapped and popped like my insides. The sizzling sensation between my legs was almost unbearable. I knew he could provide the relief I needed, and I found myself wanting to ask him to do just that. Hell, I was almost ready to beg for it. The words were there, on the tip of my tongue.

As he leaned forward that last inch, so that my breasts pressed to his hard chest, I was nearly a goner. The arm along the back of the sofa now draped over my shoulder, holding me to him. His other hand rested on my bare thigh, right at the hem of my short skirt.

“You make me hard,” he said, filling the silence I’d left because my train of thought had derailed. “Just by looking at you and thinking about all the things I want to do to you.”

I swallowed down a moan. How easily he swept me away. When his lips grazed mine again, my eyelids made their final descent, closing as my mouth opened. His tongue delved deep to tangle with mine. I reached a hand up and twined my fingers through his thick, silky hair. My other hand slid around to his back.

I let him kiss me the way he had the first night we’d gotten together. It was hot and demanding. A purposeful kiss that conveyed how much he wanted me. Impossible to miss.

When I finally dragged my mouth away, he groaned.

“I want to be inside you,” he said as he dropped featherlight kisses along my neck.

My fingers were still in his hair, my breasts still pressed to his chest. My head fell back as he continued to tease the skin on my throat with his lips and tongue.

I let out a sigh. One of want and need. One of obvious frustration.

Oh, if only I could say to hell with my good girl ways and be bad with him. Right now. For one night. But I knew that come morning, I’d regret having to leave his bed. I’d want more. I always did when it came to him. Thankfully, he’d given me quite a lot when we’d gotten together in the past. He’d wanted me night after night.

By the third week, I’d realized I’d held his attention longer than any other woman I’d known of, and that’s when the panic had set in. I’d instantly started to doubt my ability to keep him satisfied much longer and had begun obsessing over when, exactly, he’d start cheating on me. I’d had to end it before he did, or before he slipped. My fragile ego—thanks to The Lying, Cheating Bastard and my sister—couldn’t take another beating.

These memories were like throwing water on a fire. I moved away from Michael. Unfolded my legs and stood. I grabbed my glass and took several sips of wine as I put both physical and emotional distance between us.

He scowled at me. “Running away? Really, babe?”

“Yes. And maybe you shouldn’t call me that. We’re just friends.”

“Are we?” he challenged. A legitimate question, but one I didn’t dwell on.

“Yes. Go be bad with someone else. My heart can’t take it.”

His scowl vanished. “You know I’d never hurt you.”

“Not on purpose, no. But let’s face it, you’re…into women. A lot of them. Whereas I’m…in need of focusing on my career. Building my business.”

A hollow laugh from him told me what a crock he thought that excuse was. An easy scapegoat I’d created for myself. “You’re terrified to date. I get that.”

“We’re not talking about dating. We’re talking about sex. And I just can’t have it one time with you and not feel used.”

He stood as well and pushed a hand through his hair in apparent frustration. “You’re the one who believes it’ll just be a one-time thing. What if I want more than that? What if I want to try a relationship with you again? Only this time, you don’t get to step out of it simply because you’re afraid I’ll cheat on you.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. My mouth even gaped. Not only did he stun me into silence with his talk of a relationship—this from Michael Houston?—but he also shocked me by calling me out.

I’d been perfectly honest with him come week three, when I’d explained I couldn’t continue to sleep with him because I was too fearful of winding up in the same boat as I had with Seth. Walking in on him and another woman would be the death of me, for sure. Knowing that had alarmed me back then—it alarmed me still. It meant, true to his point, he was more to me than just a friend.

But again, that was dangerous territory to navigate.

“Look,” I said as I crossed to the wet bar and poured more wine for myself. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into you tonight, but all I want is for you to attend a party with me tomorrow. In Napa. Three o’clock.”

He crossed his arms over his wide chest. “You realize you’re the one who’s always putting a wedge between us, not the other way around?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Are you available for the party or not?”

“Depends. First, answer my question.”

“Michael.”

He didn’t let me off the hook. “You claim I’m the one with the fear of commitment. Maybe it’s the other way around. With good cause, I’ll admit,” he was quick to say. “After Seth, and also knowing my track record with women.”

“Your track record, indeed.” I laughed. “What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever been in?”

“Nearly three weeks. With you.”

As I’d suspected. His affairs had a very brief shelf life.

He continued on. “Ever consider we might still be together if you hadn’t gotten cold feet?”

“Oh, please. Any day into week three, you would have decided you were bored with me. I did us both a favor. I gave you an out and saved myself from getting dumped. Again.”

Damn, that hurt.

I lifted my glass and took a long drink. Tonight was not going the way I’d expected. Somehow, I’d gotten caught in his trap. I still couldn’t figure out why he’d set it. What was he getting at, exactly?

“You know, Fiona,” he said as he carried his glass across the room and refreshed his beverage. “You’re really good at accepting the chemistry between us when I force it upon you. I mean, that one kiss made me rock-hard, and I’m pretty sure I made you wet.”

I was taken aback. Not because he was so direct, but because he was so right. About everything.

He said, “If I’m not constantly riding you about it, you completely deny that we’ve always been attracted to each other. And that I still want you, even after I’ve fucked you.”

“Mi—”

“A year later, no less.” This seemed to be a revelation to him because he quickly added, “Don’t you think that means something?”

“You’ve lost your mind?”

He smirked at me. It was damn sexy.

“Is it possible you just haven’t gotten a piece of ass in a while and you’re willing to say anything to get it tonight?” I continued.

His look this time was not quite so sexy. In fact, it bordered on lethal. “You’ll say anything to jack this up, won’t you?”

I sighed. He didn’t miss a single trick. “Can we please just focus on why I came over tonight? Are you going with me to Napa or not?”

“Whose party?”

Fuck. That question was about to change the course of this conversation. Again, not to my advantage.

“Please remember I brought over two-hundred dollar Scotch.”

“Whose party, Fiona?”

Clearly, I was pissing him off, as
babe
was no longer part of his vernacular.

“It’s Lizzie and Seth’s engagement party.” I didn’t bother using my sister’s formal name, as requested by my mother. It’d be one more thing I’d have to explain to him and, by the tense look that crossed his face, I wouldn’t be positioning myself better for this favor if I did.

As it was, he demanded in an angry tone, “Why the hell are you going?”

“Michael.” My heart sunk. Perhaps I was wrong. Quite possibly, this was one favor he wouldn’t grant me.

He drove that point home with an unexpected outburst. “The guy cheated on you. With your sister!”

“I am all too aware of that fact,” I said, my own temper now sparked. “Thank you very much for reminding me.”

He pinned me with a serious look. “Now who’s lost their mind?”

“Damn it.” I threw my hands up in the air. Thankfully, I wasn’t holding my wine at the time. “This isn’t easy for me, and you’re making it even harder. I have to go to this party. It would be really helpful to have someone with me who’s—”

I lost my breath as those stupid tears filled my eyes again.

Michael sighed. His look softened as he lifted a hand to my face and brushed away the drops rolling down my flushed cheeks.

In a quiet voice, I continued. “It’d help if I had someone with me who’s on my side.”

“Oh, Jesus.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.

I didn’t fight the tears this time. I let them all out, crying on Michael’s shoulder the way I had a year ago. He’d never hold my hurt feelings against me, whether my bruised pride was Seth or my family’s doing. He’d always been sympathetic and understanding of my sensitivity to these particular slights. One of the many things I adored about him.

I had no idea how long I sobbed. In fact, I truly had no idea what I was so upset about. Because Seth was happier with Lizzie? That my little sister was getting married before me? Or was it because I felt trapped in my own life, unable to escape my family obligations even when they tore me apart?

I’d proven I was strong enough to move on after the affair. That I was strong enough to forge my own path by starting a business outside the legal profession, the customary field for Carlisles.

Why wasn’t I strong enough to stand up to my family and just say
no
when it came to this engagement party?

Because they’re your family.
A catch-22 I couldn’t escape.

When I was doing little more than sniffling and hiccupping, I pulled away from Michael. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be.”

“I know I’m asking a lot, but—”

“You’re not,” he said as he wiped away more tears with a cocktail napkin. “You know I’ll go. Of course, I’ll go. It’s just that your family…” He shook his head again, in obvious angst.

“I know.”

Yet, he felt compelled to say, “They don’t get you.”

“No, they don’t.”

It was an uphill battle I’d fought my entire life. Everyone expecting me to be just like them. Me wanting to stand on my own and be the person I wanted to be. I was fairly certain that was why my mother always took Lizzie’s side over mine. Even with the glaring facts of my sister’s twisted, immoral nature staring her in the face.

As though he knew the direction in which my thoughts ran—and I’m sure he did because he was that perceptive—he said, “My guess is, your sister wanted Seth from the beginning. She was jealous you got into Harvard and she didn’t. She hated that you were dating someone from a more prestigious family than her boyfriend’s. And…you were happier than she was. Of course, she had to make a play for Seth.”

I rolled my eyes at how shallow my sister could be. “I never threw any of that in her face.”

“I’d never take you for the type to do that. No one would. Regardless, she couldn’t escape it.”

“Yeah, well,” I said as I went for the wine again. “It takes two to tango, as they say.”

“Lizzie is a looker.”

“Michael.” I slammed my glass down, surprisingly not breaking the stem.

He speared me with an honest look. “I didn’t say she’s as hot as you, but come on. She’s a pretty little redhead who knows how to bat her eyelashes and pout. And I’m certain that’s not the only way she uses her mouth to get what she wants.”

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I remembered when I’d walked into my bedroom on that fateful afternoon my sister and Seth had been in the sixty-nine position. She’d given him one hell of a blowjob as I’d stood there in the doorway watching, shocked into paralysis. They hadn’t even noticed me as they’d changed positions and he’d fucked her ass.

“Oh, my God.”

I couldn’t even begin to process how their affair had come about. But I couldn’t lie to myself. It was obvious by how familiar they were with each other’s bodies that they’d been together many times before. My stomach roiled at the thought.