Her Man Friday(56)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

She scrunched up her shoulders and then let them drop. "I don’t know, I just…"

"What?"

But she honestly didn’t know what to say, so Lily said nothing at all.

He strode forward, slowly covering the few steps that separated them, almost as if he were giving her an opportunity to bolt, should that be what she wanted to do. In spite of her misgivings, though, Lily found that bolting was the very last thing she wanted to do. So she stood firm as he approached her and draped his arms casually on her shoulders, in a way that was anything but suggestive. And somehow, that made her feel better.

"But there is something I need to know before we go any further," he said softly.

What little reassurance she had begun to feel evaporated. "What’s that?"

For a moment, he said nothing, only gazed down at her face as if reluctant to put voice to whatever it was he wanted to know. Finally, however, he asked straight out, "You and Kimball—are you involved? Sexually, I mean?"

She expelled a breath she had been unaware of holding and smiled. "No," she said readily. "We’re not."

"But you were once upon a time."

She wasn’t sure how he knew that, and maybe she didn’t want to know, but she replied honestly and without hesitation. "Schuyler was my first, Leo," she said. "When I was nineteen. It didn’t take us long, though, to realize that we made much better friends than we did lovers. But I’m glad for that brief intimacy with him, because I think it made our friendship stronger. We’ve both seen each other at our most vulnerable, yet we’ve never preyed on each other’s vulnerabilities. That short time as lovers cemented our trust in each other as friends. Does that make sense?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. In a way, I guess it does. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with the knowledge of the two of you… you know."

"Hey, you asked," she reminded him.

He nodded slowly. "And you answered." His tone of voice suggested he appreciated her doing so.

"Whatever Schuyler and I have, whatever we had back then," she said, "it’s not like this thing with you. It was never like this thing with you."

"And just what, exactly, is this thing with me?"

She swallowed hard, reluctant to answer that question.

So Leo asked another one instead. "What is it you want, Lily?" he said softly. "Forget about what you think is right or wrong. Forget about what you think you should do. Forget about what you think is proper. What you should think about instead is what you want."

She did as he asked, and she wasn’t much surprised by what she discovered. "I want… you," she said softly.

He smiled, urging his arms lower down her back, circling her waist, pulling her close. "Then take me," he said simply.

Well, if you insist…

But she said nothing, mainly because, at that point, no words seemed necessary. They were both adults, they were both unattached, and each was completely turned on by the other. There was no reason for Lily to deny him or herself what seemed to be the logical conclusion.

None.

Well, except maybe for the fact that she hadn’t been entirely honest with him about something. A rather big something, too. But really, that and this had nothing in common, did they? What she was about to do with Leo had nothing to do with what she’d done where Schuyler was concerned. The two men were entirely separate, and her experiences—and duties—to each were completely unrelated. She could have this night, this time, this relationship, with Leo, and she could keep it apart from her activities where Schuyler and Kimball Technologies were concerned.

At least, she could for a little while. Until she was certain that things with Leo would work out. For now, she could be with him, and he’d never have to know what went on with Schuyler and the business. For now, she could lead both lives, and they’d never have to converge. For now, she could do this, she told herself. She could.

She could.

And then, when she was sure everything would work out between the two of them, she could tell Leo the truth. He would understand why she hadn’t been completely truthful, she told herself. And he would forgive her. Because he would understand that she had done it out of a sense of duty and obligation. Surely a man like him would know all about something like that.

He dipped his head to hers then, and thankfully, every thought that was plaguing her scattered. Lifting her hands to his face, she cupped his jaws, relishing the warmth and roughness she encountered. She inhaled a deep breath and savored the scent of him, a mix of heat and musk and man. And then, as he covered her mouth with his, she tasted him. And he tasted… oh… So good.

"Leo," she murmured against his lips. The word came out sounding like a benediction, and he lowered his head again to receive his blessing.

Over and over, he brushed his lips against hers, each time exerting a little more pressure, each time claiming a little bit more of Lily for himself. She moved her hands to the back of his head, twining the short strands of his hair between her fingers, loving the way he felt in her hands, the way he responded to her touch. It had been so long since she had enjoyed any kind of intimacy with a man. So long since anyone had made her feel so feminine, so desirable, so cherished.

And then, as Leo opened his mouth wider, urging hers open, too, and tasted her more deeply, Lily realized that no one had ever made her feel like this before.

He released her waist and moved his hands lower, slowly urging them down over her h*ps and thighs, until he’d bunched two big fistfuls of her skirt in each. Then he moved his hands up again, back to her waist, pulling the fabric with him. Lily felt the cool air of his bedroom on the backs of her legs, and instinctively, to warm herself, she pushed her body into his. He moved one hand down again, fisting another handful of skirt, and brought it higher, too. Scooping the wealth of fabric under one arm, he dropped his hand yet again, this time palming her firm thigh over the cotton knit of her tights.

Damn. She knew she should have worn knee socks instead.

Leo didn’t seem to share her concern however, because he expelled a soft sigh of satisfaction when he encountered the fabric. "God, I love a woman in tights," he said.

Somehow, she found the presence of mind to murmur, "Do you?"

"Mmm," he murmured back. "The only thing sexier than tights are those little cotton ankle socks. God, I love those, too."

"Come summer, I’ll remember that," she said softly.

Immediately, she regretted the words, because they suggested that come summer, the two of them would still be engaged in this… thing … they were doing, and she worried that he would consider such an assumption presumptuous. She pulled back a bit, to see if she could gauge his reaction, but the expression on his face was one of complete, and delighted, anticipation.