The Next Move (5 page)

         
Chewing the inside of her lip, she let his words roll around in her mind for a moment. "Maybe it doesn’t have to fuck things up."

         
His eyebrows lifted.

         
She wetted her lips. "We can’t pretend this never happened, but…" She trailed off, thinking for a moment. Then she looked at him. "Do you feel differently about me now?"

         
"What do you mean?"

         
"I mean, now that we’ve had sex," she paused. "Everything between us still feels the same to me. I still see you as my friend."

         
For a long moment, he was quiet. Then he rolled onto his side, but neither moved closer to her nor broke the gentle contact of their clasped hands. "That’s part of why I’m worried. I’m not going to lie, Kat, I’m very attracted to you. I have been for a long time."

         
"Likewise."

         
He swallowed. "And I have to admit, now that I’ve been with you, it’s going to be difficult as hell to go back to the way things were."

         
"Maybe they don’t have to."

         
"Won’t things get even more complicated if we keep doing this?"

         
"No necessarily."

         
He cocked his head.

         
"I think sex starts fucking things up when it gets tied up in emotions," she said. "Jealousy. One person falling for the other. Dishonesty."

         
"Right." He furrowed his brow. "So, what do you suggest?"

         
"Why not friends with benefits?"

         
His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Sure. We both want each other. We both want to stay

just friends. You want to get laid, I want to get laid, neither of us is having much luck with the dating bullshit
because
we want to get laid." She shrugged. "So why not have some hot, no bullshit, no strings attached sex to take the edge off of the dating frustration?"

         
He blinked. "You’re serious? You think we should be…booty calls?"

         
"Basically."

         
"Wouldn’t we be using each other?"

         
"Sure," she said with a shrug. "But if we’re both using each other for the same thing, and we both know what the deal is…" She shrugged again.

         
"Good point."

         
"As long as we’re both honest, and we keep it as friends with benefits, nothing more, then what’s the harm?"

         
"So let me get this straight." He moved a little closer to her, putting his hand on her hip and looking at her as if waiting to see if she’d recoil. "You’re suggesting that we stay ‘just friends’, just like we’ve always been, only fucking on the side? While we’re both out looking for other people?"

         
"Exactly."

         
"And what about other people?"

         
"What do you mean?"

         
He wetted his lips. "If, say, I’m out with a girl and want to sleep with her."

         
She shrugged. "As long as you’re using condoms with her and with me, I don’t care." She raised an eyebrow. "Assuming the same applies if I decide I want to sleep with someone."

         
"Sounds fair." He grinned. "I like the sound of this."

         
"At least then—" She trailed her finger down the center of his chest, watching his abs ripple as she continued down the groove of his six-pack. "We both have a sure thing, so we don’t end up sleeping with some of these people just because we want a warm body for the night."

         
"You’re such a lady, you know that?"

         
"This coming from someone who’s such a gentleman."

         
He laughed. "Touché."

         
"As long as we both play by the rules," she said. "I think it’ll work."

         
"So what rules?"

         
"No lying, no commitment. If one of us wants out of it, we let it go. We go back to being just friends with no hard feelings."

         
"Do you think it would be that easy?"

         
"Well, it might not be easy to stop, but say if one of us meets someone else. Or we just decide we don’t want to do it anymore. We just have to put our friendship first. If the sex starts threatening our friendship or making things weird, we stop."

         
"Easier said than done."

         
"As is everything in life."

"Good point." He paused, pursing his lips for a moment. "I think I like this idea."

         
"And let’s face it," she said, smiling. "We’re damned good in bed together."

He grinned. "I always
thought
we’d be good in bed together—"

         
"Christian Bailey, are you saying you had impure thoughts about us?"

         
 
"On multiple occasions, yes." He smirked. "You know, you would be amazed at the number of positions my mind can get your body into."

         
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "You dirty bastard."

         
"What? It’s true." He chuckled. "Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it."

         
Her cheeks burned. "Oh, I have."

         
"Do tell."

         
"A good girl doesn’t kiss and tell."

         
He snorted. "First of all, if you were kissing me, your fantasy version of me or not, it doesn’t count as kissing and telling." He nibbled the side of her neck. "And second of all, you are
not
a good girl."

         
She scoffed with mock offense. "I beg your pardon."

         
"You can beg for something else." He pressed his hips against her.

         
"I don’t think you’d make me beg."

         
He kissed along the underside of her jaw. "I could make you beg."

         
"No, you couldn’t." She slid her hand under the covers.

"Is that a challenge?" He parted her lips with his

tongue.

         
She wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking gently and grinning into his kiss as his body tensed. "It’s a
fact
."

         
He groaned softly and pulled her closer. Then he rolled her onto her back, sucking her nipple between his lips. He moved so that his cock was just out of her reach, so she let her fingers tangle in his hair instead.

         
"So…" He kissed between her breasts. "No bullshit." Trailed kisses down the center of her abdomen. "No strings." Slid his hands under her hips. "A smoking hot woman who will let me…" Kissed her hipbone. "…Use her for…" Kissed the groove between her thigh and her hip. "…All manner of wild, dirty sex…" His tongue slid between her pussy lips, making her hips squirm in his hands. When he spoke again, his mouth was so close to her clit that his voice thrummed across it: "I’m failing to see the downside."

         
His lips closed around her clit, and the conversation was over.

Seven

How can someone be so interesting online, and yet so insufferably dull in person
?

Kat crunched on an ice cube, the sound drowning out the monotonous drone of Quinn’s story about…something. She’d long since stopped paying attention to her date’s endless explanations of the intricacies of his job as an engineer, and simply focused on looking politely interested while secretly planning her escape. As much as she loved analytical, intellectual types, there was only so much she could take.

I wonder if Chris is available tonight
.

When Quinn had paused long enough that she could politely change the subject, she said, "So you said you’re a chess player?"

His eyes lit up. "Oh yes, I love chess."

"Me too." She smiled.
Thank God. Common ground
.

"I haven’t met too many people who can play worth a damn," he said. "Seems a bit too, shall we say,
demanding
for some?"

Kat played with her straw and gave him a puzzled look. "Demanding? How so?"

"Well, the high school chess teams aren’t made up of the math and science nerds for nothing." The smugness in his grin and his tone set her teeth on edge. "I think anyone can learn how to move the pieces, but the strategy and planning? That takes someone with some brains."

She thought about messing with his head and giving him her theory about chess being as primal as it was intellectual, but his rebuttal would probably have put her into a coma. Instead, she said, "I don’t know, I’ve been given a run for my money from a few players you might not have expected to be so skilled."

"Yes, but how much actual strategizing went on?"

She raised an eyebrow.
Did you just insult my chess prowess
? "On which side of the board?"

"Either, really, I mean…" He wandered off on a tangent about complex strategies, even mentioning specific games from tournaments past.

Kat sucked an ice cube into her mouth and crunched it as loudly as she could. Not loud enough that he could hear, but loud enough that she couldn’t hear
him
. She knew chess strategies inside out and backwards, but was no longer interested in much of anything Quinn had to say at this point.

Quinn, you’ve insulted my intelligence and you’re making chess boring. You’ve gone from common ground to treading on very, very thin ice
.

         
The antagonistic side of her wanted to tell him to put his money where his mouth was, come back to her place, and throw down on the chess board. But then he’d be at her place, with all the requisite hints that such an invitation created. And he’d probably irritate her so much that she’d devise a way to make a bishop into a weapon just to shut Quinn up.

         
That thought almost made her giggle, but she suppressed it and went for her drink.

         
Pity he was such a pompous jackass; he wasn’t bad-looking, and she was horny as hell. If only he’d kept his mouth shut.

         
Her mind shifted to her backup plan.

         
Chris
. She sucked another ice cube into her mouth. Her stomach suddenly twisted into a nervous knot.
I can’t possibly call him, can I? This is what we agreed to do. Why should I be embarrassed? It was my idea, why am I so afraid to call him
?

         
Quinn cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. For a moment, she was afraid he’d noticed that her mind was elsewhere, but as he continued on, explaining the strategies and dynamics of the Alkehine-Poindle game of 1936, he probably didn’t even realize she was still there.

         
Chris, you may want to grab a couple of Red Bulls
.

         
She scooted her chair back slightly, the movement catching Quinn’s attention. "Hold that thought for just a second," she said, forcing a smile. "I’m going to run to the ladies’ room, but I’ll be right back."

         
"Oh, sure, certainly," he said, smiling in spite of the obvious annoyance in his voice.

         
She picked up her purse and headed towards the back of the restaurant. The restrooms were tucked away in a hallway that was mostly hidden from anyone in the dining room. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was truly out of Quinn’s sight, she dug her phone out of her purse and speed-dialed Chris.

         
She chewed her lip as it rang, wondering if he was busy, if he’d even want to see her, if she was a complete idiot for even thinking of this, if—

         
"Bailey’s Booty Call Service, how may I direct your call?"

         
Kat burst out laughing. "What gave me away?"

         
He chuckled. "Nothing, it was just wishful thinking."

         
"Are you saying you hoped my date was a bust?"

         
"I’m saying I hoped you’d want to get laid tonight."

         
"Well, you’re in luck. My date is a bust and I
really
want to get laid."

         
"We have at least one thing in common tonight, then."

         
"Your date was a bust, too?" She giggled.

         
"You know what I mean."

         
"Yes, I do. So I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re busy?"

         
He laughed. "Not doing anything I wouldn’t drop in a heartbeat if a hot woman demanded my presence in her bed."

         
"Well good, because I’m demanding your presence in my bed."

         
"Say the magic word."

         
"
Now
."

         
He chuckled again. "Works for me. You closer to your place or mine?"

         
"Mine." She glanced back towards the dining area. "I can probably be there in twenty depending on how soon I can bow out of this."

         
"I’ll be there with a hard-on."

         
"Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it, ‘I’ll be there with bells on’?"

         
"Probably," he said. "But I’m fresh out of bells."

         
"Then I guess a hard-on will suffice." She shivered.
Will it ever
.

         
"See you there."

         
"Don’t be late." She hung up and grinned as she slipped her phone back into her purse.

Sorry, Quinn. The knight just stepped in and captured your queen
.