Kinky Claus Read online

  Jane hauled short next to Marissa. “You about ready to buy that frumpy thing and hit the road?”

  Ignoring Jane’s unflattering assessment of the dress, Marissa nodded. “But I also need to swing by the shoe and hosiery department.”

  “Crap. I just told Reggie I’d meet him at the office in half an hour.”

  Marissa frowned as Jane began digging in her purse. “What’s going on at the office?”

  “Oh, he’s freaking out over tomorrow’s presentation. Why they made him project manager on this one is beyond me.” Jane located her cell phone and thumbed the message icon. “Do you think you can find what you need in five minutes? If so, I can still drop you off at home. Otherwise you might be stuck waiting around at my office while I help Reg get this PowerPoint nailed down.”

  Five minutes to find the perfect heels and accessories? Not freakin’ likely. “Uh—”

  “I’ll take Rissa home.”

  Marissa whipped her head in Trig’s direction. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind.” Judging from the humor dancing in his gaze, the troublemaker was relishing the opportunity to make her squirm some more.

  Jane tossed her cell back into her purse and eyed Trig shrewdly. “Really gunning to get that software, aren’t you?”

  Trig adopted the fakest angelic smile in existence. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

  Snorting, Jane leaned forward and offered Marissa a hasty hug. “Sorry I’m cutting out on you early. And you know I’m just giving you shit about the dress. You’ll have Mr. Lucky popping a boner the second he sees you.” Paying no heed to Marissa’s grimace, Jane turned to her brother. “Be nice to my girl or you’re going to hear it from me later, capiche?”

  “I’ll be the picture of gentlemanly behavior.”

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at that huge fat lie, Marissa gusted a resigned exhalation as Jane hurried toward the escalators. Once her best friend was out of earshot, Marissa shifted her attention to Trig. “That was very sneaky of you.”

  He shrugged. “Not like I arranged for her to get called in to work.”

  “No, but you also didn’t lose any time taking advantage of it either.”

  “Hell, my mama raised no dummy.”

  Despite her best effort to corral it, her laugh snuck loose. Shaking her head, she pivoted toward the checkout. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question? Because I’ve got some suggestions.” He waggled his eyebrows. “A few don’t even require whipped cream and handcuffs.”

  Oh sweet Jesus. Like she needed that visual added to the raunch-fest in her head. Killing her whimper, she handed the dress to the salesclerk manning the register. Judging from the woman’s smirk, she’d overheard their conversation. Studiously avoiding any further direct eye contact with her, Marissa fetched her credit card and swiped it through the reader once she was given her total. A few seconds later she accepted her receipt and snatched her bag. She stepped away from the checkout, and Trig immediately crooked his arm around her waist, the devilish twinkle in his eyes confirming her worst suspicions. His naughty flirtations were about to be cranked up to maximum output.

  Midway in their journey to the shoe department his fingertips snuck beneath the hem of her sweater and brushed across her skin in a ticklish caress. She reflexively jumped and shot him a peevish look when he chuckled. “Keep it up, and I’ll tell Jane how bad you’re being.”

  “Go right ahead.” The wicked challenge in his gaze made it clear that he was all too willing to call her on her bluff.

  Snuffing her groan, she shuffled toward the closest display of blinged-out high heels. She picked up a black strappy number and checked the price. On the plus side, she wouldn’t have to take out a second mortgage to afford the shoes. She glanced at Trig. “What do you think?”

  “You’d look fucking hot wearing those and nothing else.”

  She shivered at the low, seductive timbre of his voice. “I doubt my boss would approve of me showing up at the party with only shoes on.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of the private party you and I could have afterwards.”

  She swallowed hard. “I already told you that’s out of the question. We shouldn’t even be going to my office party together.”

  “And I told you not to worry about Jane or any of the other things you brought up.” He played with the loose strand of hair that’d fallen across her cheek, his knuckles grazing her skin lightly.

  A shaky breath lodging in her throat, she licked her lips. Trig’s pupils dilated as he visually tracked the movement of her tongue. Oh Lord. If he kissed her right now she’d be done for. There’d be no going back. It’d take a freakin’ miracle not to rip his clothes off and jump him on the spot.

  Trig’s fingers abandoned her hair and traced the curve of her cheekbone. “We’re two consenting adults who happen to be attracted to each other. Nothing wrong with acting on that.”

  The sinful persuasion in his low baritone was an invitation all on its own. Add in the combustible heat in his eyes, and she was straddling a dangerous line of giving into every illicit craving he brought out in her. Gulping, she clutched the shoe to her chest and scanned desperately for a salesperson. The instant she spotted Mr. GQ-with-a-name-tag her breath released in a relieved exhale and she waved the high heel in frantic entreaty.

  The man headed in their direction, and Trig grunted. After giving the salesclerk her shoe size and watching him beeline for the stockroom, she hustled to a nearby upholstered bench and plopped her butt down. Trig settled in the space next to her and stretched out his long legs before leaning his knee against hers. Even that innocent contact rocketed her physical awareness of him into the stratosphere. Pretending she was oblivious to his presence proved impossible seeing how he was an irresistible force field of pure temptation reeling her in. Tearing her gaze from his denim-clad muscular thigh, she wedged her coat and purse between them, earning a chuckle from Trig.

  Wrinkling her nose, she sent him a peevish glance. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “What? Getting cock-blocked by a yuppie shoe salesman and your purse? Hardly.”

  “No, making me sweat.”

  “I can think of far more enjoyable ways to make you sweat than this.”

  One of these days she’d get the memo about not providing him countless opportunities for naughty innuendo. Sucking in a steadying breath, she pinned her focus on the doorway the salesclerk had disappeared through. Maybe if she stared at it hard enough he’d magically reappear.

  Good grief. How in the world was she going to survive an entire night of Trig? Her wayward mind immediately took that as an open invitation to conjure a provocative image of him slowly licking his way down her quivering belly while she was spread-eagled beneath him. She quickly shook her head to dislodge the visual. No, no, no. Definitely not what she’d meant, damn it.

  “So why is my sis all dead set on getting you laid at your office party? Not that I’m against that plan, obviously.”

  She killed a groan. “You know Jane. She’s the reigning Dick Whisperer.”

  Trig grimaced. “I don’t even wanna know what that means.”

  “Sex is pretty much her answer to everything.” Sighing, Marissa fiddled with the stitching on her purse strap. “I really can’t be mad at her though. She’s been worried about me ever since the fiasco with the McHottie.”

  Trig arched his brows. “McHottie? Do I need to get my ass-kicking boots on?”

  She rolled her lips to hide her smile. “Um, no.” It was probably silly to appreciate the offer and the tiny spark of jealousy in his fierce expression. That last part was likely just part of his flirtatious game.

  Crap, he probably never had to worry about a lack of repeat client bookings if he was this attentive and outrageously sexy with all of his dates. It was a sobering realization, but one she’d do well to remember. Their situation was complicated enoug
h without her misconstruing the facts. Bottom line, she’d hired Trig, and that made her a job to him. Yes, she didn’t doubt that his attraction to her was sincere, crazy as it may be. She could count on one hand the number of times a gorgeous hunk had made a play for her, and still have five fingers left over. So it was easy to get carried away with this fantasy of Trig being interested in her. But who knew what was motivating his attraction? The forbidden thrill of banging one of his sister’s friends?

  Jeez, talk about a horribly cynical thought. Still, it was a distinct possibility. It made more sense than the absurd notion that he turned into a raging lust fiend whenever he was around her. Then again, maybe he was a total horndog and anyone short of a toothless snagglepuss gave him an insta boner.

  She cringed—both at the suggestion and the scornful voice in her head that insisted on shining an unflattering light on his attraction to her. Why was it so damn difficult to believe it didn’t come with some seedy side effect?

  You know why. Twenty-five plus years starring as the trusted Buddy Girl came with its own truckload of side effects. Namely, the unshakable peskiness of a little thing called reality. In other words, the vast majority of men seemed way more eager to be her BFF than take her home for a night of wild monkey sex. It was just a damn good thing she had big boobs. Otherwise at the rate she typically struck out, there was a better than decent chance she’d still be a freakin’ virgin.

  “You plannin’ to tell me about this guy?”

  Trig’s unexpected demand snapped her out of her surly musings. She blinked at him. “What guy?”

  “Your McHottie.” He waved a hand impatiently. The gesture reminded her so much of Jane, it took a moment to recall who he was referring to.

  “First of all, he’s not exactly mine.” She averted her gaze. “And I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  She jerked her focus back to him. The grim set of his features didn’t gel with the gentleness of his tone. She shook her head. “We barely know each other. In fact, pretty much not at all.”

  He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  There was no way she was telling him that she’d wasted six months of her life obsessively stalking some cute stranger in the office suite across from hers. Or as Jane and Sid had been kind enough to call it—covertly acquiring intel on potential boyfriend material. No matter how you phrased it she’d look like a major loser. “I liked him, but he, uh, liked dick.”

  Trig choked on a cough. He cleared his throat and shot her a rueful grin. “Sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t be. You all can’t be batting for the same team, right?”

  “I was apologizing for my reaction, not him being gay. Because obviously that worked out in my favor, seeing how I’m sitting here with you now instead of him.” He nudged her foot with his. “I’m not used to words like dick coming from you.”

  “Your sister is a bad influence.”

  “Shit, that’s an understatement. She makes me look like a saint most days.” He rubbed his jaw and inspected her with a considering glint in his eyes. “Still, I gotta admit that I like that word rolling around on your tongue.”

  “You like dick rolling on my tongue?” she repeated with a squint. Realizing how horrendously wrong that’d just sounded, she groaned.

  Trig’s gaze positively sparkled. “Well, naturally I’d prefer it being my dick on your tongue.”

  Oh jeez Louise. She’d stepped right into that one. She craned a desperate look toward the stockroom. “Where the fuck is that salesclerk?”

  Trig’s whiskey-smooth laugh prodded goose bumps along her flesh. “I’m getting to hear all the fun words from you tonight.”

  She winced. “I usually don’t swear this much. I swear.” Oh Lord. Someone stop her before she convinced him that she was a complete foul-mouthed dunderhead.

  “That’s a lot of swearing about swearing.” Grinning, he squeezed her shoulder. Almost immediately the motion of his hand slowed to an intimate caress. Despite the warning bells clanging in her head she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from his touch or the hot intensity in his eyes. His fingertips snuck beneath the neckline of her sweater and tickled over her collarbone. She instinctively shivered. He inched closer, his rapt gaze fused to her mouth. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

  She didn’t have to be a mind reader to have a good inkling of the raunchy ideas undoubtedly swirling through his noggin. Ten to one they were Xerox copies of the X-rated scenarios currently sequestered in her brain.

  He stroked his hand up along her neck. “If we were someplace private you could share a few more of your favorite fun words with me.”

  “Snuffleupagus is a good one. Always makes me laugh.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of fuck that pussy like you own it. Deeper. OhGodohGodohGod. Right there. Right. Fucking. There.” He punctuated each word with a tantalizing sweep of his thumb over the sensitive spot behind her ear.

  She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “I believe that falls into the territory of a paragraph. Totally different thing that.”

  “Huh. Grammar’s never been my strong suit.” He lowered his head until a mere breath of air separated their lips. “I make up for it in other areas.”

  “Let me guess. Anatomy?” She really shouldn’t be encouraging this conversation.

  “Mm hm. I think we should skip this joint so I can properly impress you with my vast knowledge.”

  “Will there by an oral exam afterwards?” Stop flirting with him, you crazy idiot.

  “Better believe it. Also before and during. And you can damn well count on getting multiple O’s.”

  “Is that a new grading system?”

  “Yeah. Mine.” His pupils practically overtaking his irises, he closed the space between them by biting her bottom lip with a growl.

  She had one startled second to moan in pleasure at the all too brief flicker of his tongue along the tip of hers before an awkward cough yanked her back to her senses. Hastily jerking away from Trig, she gaped at the salesclerk as he extended an opened shoe box. She stared at the high heels dumbly. “Err, I almost forgot about these.”

  “Can’t imagine why.” Humor twitching his lips, the salesclerk handed over a nylon footie. “Not sure if you need this.”

  Cheeks hotter than a five-alarm blaze, she hiked up her pants legs and unzipped her boots. A quick swap out of the shoes verified that the high heels were a perfect fit and comfortable enough that her feet hopefully wouldn’t kill her ten minutes into the party. She returned the heels to the box and tugged her coat on before Trig could offer assistance with the task. Not that she didn’t trust him, but...yeah, she didn’t trust him. Not one bit. Knowing the crafty bastard, he’d take it as a prime opportunity to cop a feel. Trig snagged the bag containing her dress before she could reach it and then he gallantly offered his other arm. It was beyond her how someone could be such a gentleman and a dirty-tongued devil all rolled into one hot package of sin. Bemused, she allowed him to escort her to the register.

  After once again making Macy’s stockholders happy courtesy of her credit card, she took a deep, fortifying breath and faced Trig. “I think you should take me home now.” Smoky triumph lit his gaze, and she shot her hand up. “Not for that. So don’t get any ideas, Buster.”

  Trig made a grumbling noise. “Are you always this stubborn? Or only when it comes to me?”

  Wisely remaining closed-lipped on that one, she trekked toward the exit.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Trig shot a frustrated glance skyward as they made their way across the dimly-lit parking lot to his SUV. No doubt karma was laughing its ass off at him. He’d never once had a problem coaxing a woman between the sheets, and he’d sure as hell taken that privilege for granted. Now he was getting the red light from the one woman who made him sweat like no other.

  He knew Marissa was attracted to him. He also suspected that she was equally as hungry to get horizonta
l with him. She’d practically melted in his arms during their woefully short kiss. And that whimpery sound she’d made? Goddamn. His cock thickened behind his fly at the memory.

  One way or another, he’d convince her to lower her guard and explore the possibilities between them.

  And what possibilities would those be, you fucking moron? You know this can only be about sex.

  He winced at the harsh albeit honest reminder. Relationships seldom worked out in his line of business. It was one of the main reasons he deliberately chose to remain single. Girlfriends got jealous, plain and simple. Hell, a few of his past clients had gotten a little too attached and he’d been forced to split ties with them because they hadn’t liked him escorting other women to various events. They hadn’t understood that this was his job, even though they’d damn well paid him to do the same thing for them.

  So what favor would he be doing Rissa by getting involved with her? Best case scenario, they’d enjoy each other’s company at her party and possibly a time or two in his bed or hers. Would the sex be out of this world? Fuck yes. But would he be doing right by her? The last thing he wanted to do was lead her on in any way. And he certainly didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship.

  Tension pulling tight between his shoulder blades, he dug in his jacket pocket for his keys and clicked the lock release button. He grabbed the passenger door handle before Marissa could beat him to it. She peeked up at him with that sweet smile he was growing increasingly addicted to, and it took everything inside him not to push her up against the side of his Honda and kiss the living daylights out of her. Instead he settled for tucking the loose strand of hair behind her ear and flicking the tip of her nose with his finger.

  Her expression bemused, she stared at him for a second before she ducked inside his car and fastened her seat belt. She’d probably expected him to make another move on her. And why wouldn’t she assume that? He’d been playing hot and heavy with her all night. Gusting a resigned exhalation, he shut her door and strode to the driver’s side.