Negligee Behavior Read online

  “Go for it, the towels are in the cupboard under the sink.” The words sounded strained even to his ears.

  She gave him a quizzical look but nodded. “Again, thank you.”

  Marco held his breath until she’d left the room and shut the bathroom door, then sighed and shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

  This was going way beyond a good deed. Good deeds didn’t come home with you and walk around in your clothes.

  Before heading into work today he’d drop her off. It was time. She could deal with things from there. By now she must have some kind of idea with what she was going to do. Or so he hoped.

  Brandy locked the bathroom door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. So Marco still had absolutely no idea who she was—which was probably a good thing. She didn’t really relish the idea of breaking the news to him and seeing the look in his eyes. The look every man gave her when they realized who she was.

  Stripping off his shirt, she went to look in the mirror at her body. The lighting was kind of bad and made her skin look blotchy. But it emphasized all her curves, and Lord did she have a ton of them. Her breasts, in her opinion—and Gordon’s—were just a little too big.

  She’d considered a reduction for the vanity aspect, since the size of them didn’t bother her physically. Then she’d thought about the reaction of the tabloids and had decided against it.

  The reporters would have had a field day. Brandy Summers, heiress to the exclusive lingerie chain Sugar and Spice just got her boobs chopped in half.

  She shook her head and unhooked her bra, dropping the $150 scrap of lace onto the bathroom floor. If she weren’t given the lingerie free of charge, she could never have justified spending that kind of money on it.

  It always blew her mind to think that some people did so. Quite a few people actually. Since her parents had opened the company twenty-eight years ago it had become the most profitable lingerie chain in the United States, and had recently expanded to Europe.

  After turning on the shower, she reached her fingers in to test the temperature. The warm water ran over her hand and down her arm, helping relax her a bit. The idea of being clean again had her quickly stepping into the small stall and shutting the glass door.

  She dunked her head under the water and felt her curls lower an inch toward her skull. After a few minutes they hung in defeat down her back. Hopefully Marco had hair gel.

  Searching the shower she finally found the soap. She picked up the bar and lifted it to her nose to give it a quick sniff. Ah, here was the source of scent de Marco. It was spicy and woodsy at the same time. Brown flecks dotted the white bar. Cinnamon? Probably.

  She wet the bar down in the shower and then began to lather up. Because she knew Marco used this very bar of soap, bathing took on an erotic tinge she hadn’t expected. A tremor ran through her body as she ran the slick bar of soap over her skin.

  The cinnamon pieces in the soap created friction against her flesh. She passed the bar over her breasts and her nipples peaked in response.

  “Oh God.” Brandy dropped her head against the wall of the shower as her knees weakened. This was just stupid. She was a grown woman getting aroused by a bar of soap.

  Why now? Sex with Gordon had been sporadic at best, and more often than not she found herself avoiding it. Which was weird, since she loved the idea of sex. She hadn’t done the self-pleasure thing in God knows how long. So why was she getting the impulse to do it now?

  She ground her teeth together, but the urge didn’t go away. Her hand moved lower.

  Don’t do it, Brandy. That is entirely too dirty. It’s just wrong. You’re not going to masturbate in Marco’s shower.

  Oh, yes she was. Brandy closed her eyes, dropping the soap to the floor and slipping her fingers between her legs. She moved her fingers over the hot spot between her legs and bit back a groan. Oh sweet Jesus. Why didn’t she do this more often?

  She rubbed faster, her breathing quickened and it became hard to stand up. Sinking to her knees in the stall, she let out a strangled groan. The water in the shower grew cooler as it splashed down over her shoulders.

  She increased the pressure with her finger as a blessed orgasm raced towards her. Little humming noises emerged from the back of her throat.

  “Brandy?” There was a rapid knock on the door. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she gasped, the humiliation of being caught not quite overpowering her pleasure. Of course he would have to catch her midpleasure. “Just…ah…singing to myself.”

  “Singing?” he replied, sounding a bit hesitant.

  “Yeah.” She rubbed faster. “You are my sunshine…my ooooohnly sunshine. You make me haaaa-aahh-ppy when skies are gray.”

  Her thighs tightened and she forced out the rest of the song in a rushed chant. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you.” Her eyes crossed. “Pleasedon’ttakemysunshineaway—aaaheeaawwoo.”

  She ground her teeth together, biting back the loud groan as she peaked. Her body shook through the orgasm, when the tremors finally receded she was in a limp heap on the bottom of the shower stall. Reaching up, she turned off the water.

  “Did you hurt yourself?” he asked with concern through the door.

  Umm. Almost.

  “Nope,” she called weakly.

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  Dandy. Just finished getting myself off in your shower, hope that’s okay.

  “I’m fine, thanks. I was in the mood for a long shower today.” Her voice came out hoarse. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay.” He was silent for a moment. “Do you need anything?”

  What, he couldn’t have asked that question ten minutes ago? She might’ve been bold enough to ask him to join her then. Of course if he’d turned her down last night, chances were he’d have turned her down again.

  “No, I’m great. Thanks, Marco.”

  She waited until she heard the sound of his retreating footsteps and then stood up. Yikes, that had been close.

  Brandy grabbed a towel from under the counter and wrapped it around her body. Now she had an entirely different problem. No clean panties. The bra she could do again, but the panties needed to be washed.

  She turned on the faucet and washed her pair from yesterday with warm water and soap. Scooping up his shirt and her bra, she set the panties on top and opened the bathroom door.

  Peeking her head out, she made sure he wasn’t in the hall before dashing back to stoner boy’s room. She hung the panties over the inside doorknob and started to get dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

  Marco paced the living room, scratching the back of his neck and muttering under his breath. He could have sworn he’d heard her making sexy little noises in his bathroom. He’d gone to check on her, but hadn’t actually knocked right away. The little whimpers had stopped him.

  Damn. He’d been about ready to push down the door just to find out for sure. And then she’d started singing the weirdest goddamn version of “You Are My Sunshine” he’d ever heard. It all made him think…but no. The idea of Miss Choir Teacher masturbating in his bathroom just wasn’t realistic. No, Brandy wasn’t that type of woman.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that, maybe it’ll make your dick less hard. He checked the time again. Nine. He had to be at work in an hour. The plan was still to drop her off at a hotel.

  Ben’s door opened and he heard her feet padding down the hallway. When she came into the room for a moment he forgot to breathe.

  Damp curls fell around her face and down her back. Her blue eyes, which seemed brighter than before, met his gaze almost shyly.

  No, Brandy wasn’t classically beautiful, but there was something about her that took his breath away—made him forget about the cat shirt and skirt she had on again.

  She licked her lips and his focus slid to her moist and lush mouth. He balled his fists so he wouldn’t do something stupid. Like touch her again.

  “W
hat’s your plan, Brandy?”

  Her eyes widened. Damn, he hadn’t planned on being so abrupt, but when she was around nothing seemed to come out right.

  “Umm. I’ve been thinking about it…”

  Had she? It didn’t sound like it with the hesitation in her voice.

  “I think I’ll just try and keep a low profile for a couple of days while I decide what to do.” She bit her lip. “Maybe get a room in one of the smaller motels outside the city. One where no one will recog—Gordon won’t find me.”

  She wanted to stay in some ghetto motel? His eyes narrowed. That sounded like a shitty plan to him.

  “Look, I have to go to work soon—”

  “Of course you do. Gosh, I’m so sorry, Marco. I’ve been monopolizing your life and your time. I mean you obviously have plans.” She drew her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “Look, why don’t you just drop me off at a bus stop. I can figure out how to get around.”

  “No.” Shaking his head, he hated the idea already. He didn’t want her running around with some half-baked plan. He wanted her to have a good solid one. One where she’d at least be in a safe place. Where he wouldn’t have to worry that he’d thrown her to the dogs.

  “Tell you what, why don’t you come to Dante’s Place with me. Hang out for a bit and grab some lunch. There’re even places to shop nearby if you want, but don’t rush off on your own until you know what you’re doing for sure.”

  Her eyes widened and she looked ridiculously happy by the small offer.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?” she asked, her tone hopeful.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I did. Besides, we make damn good burgers down at the bar. You can’t leave Vegas without checking out Dante’s. We’ll just have to catch a cab back to the casino to grab my bike.”

  “That’s right, you had to leave it there.” The realization didn’t seem to please her. She gave a soft sigh. “You’ve been so nice to me, it’s like you’ve been my guardian angel these past two days.”

  He laughed, but not because he found her words amusing. His feelings for her were in no way holy.

  Shaking his head, he muttered, “I’m no angel, princess. And you should try and remember that.”

  The parking lot at Dante’s Place was mostly empty except for a couple of motorcycles out front. So it really was kind of a biker bar.

  Brandy followed close behind Marco as he opened the door to the bar and strode inside.

  Had she ever been in a real bar? The one in the casino last night had been a first for her, but when she’d been surrounded by the glitz and glam of a Vegas casino it seemed a little different.

  This bar was like something she would have expected to see in the Old West. There weren’t swinging saloon doors or anything, but the inside was dim and the wooden floorboards creaked with each step she took. And it had the smell of new wood, not old. Like it had been built not too long ago.

  Marco looked back at her. He was so close his chin brushed her hair.

  “You okay?” He lifted an eyebrow in amusement and she flushed, stepping back a few feet.

  “Fine, though it’s awfully dark in here. Don’t you believe in adequate lighting?”

  The husky laugh and teasing look in his dark eyes sent those increasingly familiar warm tingles racing through her body.

  “There are lights.”

  “Yes, but not adequate.” Okay, so it wasn’t that bad. But really, she would have been a lot more comfortable had the place been lit up like a grocery store.

  His lips quirked into a slight smile and he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her pulse jumped.

  “You know, Brandy—”

  “Hey, Marco, buddy. How you doing?”

  Relief—or disappointment—made her shoulders deflate when Marco turned away to talk to the biker man in the leather jacket and bandana who’d approached him.

  With the attention off her, she took a moment to look around the bar. Booths were set up against the walls, with some smaller tables scattered in the middle of the room. There were a couple of pool tables in the back along with dartboards on the wall. It was pretty much your average bar—well from what she’d seen on television, at least.

  Speaking of television…She noticed one was mounted up behind the bar, tuned to a station that made her freeze, her eyes widening as she stared at a flat screen. Gordon’s pretty boy face and dazzling white smile stared down at her. The volume wasn’t up, but his lips were moving as he spoke to a reporter. This was not New You, the reality show she was used to seeing him on. This appeared to be the midday local news.

  Her blood thundered in her ears. What was he saying? Please don’t let him be talking about me. Please.

  The screen split, and suddenly in the other corner there was a candid shot of her eating pizza. Sweet God! Could he have picked a worse picture? It was from a charity event for foster kids they’d gone to last month. She was eating pizza and there was a line of cheese hanging off the end and down her chin and of course her hair was frizzier than usual.

  The picture disappeared and the image switched back to Gordon. Brandy’s gaze darted around the bar, certain somebody was about to scream, “It’s her!” But the place was still pretty much empty, and Marco and the biker were still talking with their backs to her.

  She made her way to the bar and pulled herself up and onto one of the stools. Wrapping her feet around the legs, she leaned forward on her elbows and stared at the line of hard alcohol behind the bar. Oh God. She closed her eyes, laid her head on the bar and willed her stomach to settle down.

  Never. She was never going to drink again.

  “What can I get you, luv?”

  Brandy’s forehead creased with a frown at the English accent. She lifted her head and stared at the man behind the counter.

  Hmm. If she hadn’t been so darn hot over Marco, she might’ve picked this guy to lust after. He gave Marco a run for his money, but in a different way.

  Marco was dark featured, rugged and tattooed. This guy had curly blond hair cropped close to his head—curls on a guy had never been attractive to her, but on him it worked.

  He wasn’t as tall, but definitely matched Marco in the broad shoulder aspect. His deep blue eyes were bright and friendly. His only visible flaw was the thick jagged scar that ran down his left cheek, but then, some women would argue that it made him sexier.

  She blinked when he waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you all right, luv?”

  “What?”

  “Can I get you something? A pint? Food? Tequila?”

  Why did everyone keep pushing tequila on her? She let out a pained groan. “Nooo…no more tequila. Just, do you have any sparkling water?”

  “Sparkling? Is there a reason why it has to sparkle?”

  “What?” She shook her head. “If you don’t have—”

  “Oh, we have it. I was just having a bit of sport, luv.” He winked and went into the back.

  Brandy gave a small laugh and watched him walk away. Definitely a cutie.

  “Don’t bother with Sebastian, he’s sworn off women.” Marco sat down on a bar stool next to her, his eyes surprisingly hard.

  She wrinkled her forehead. Funny, she really hadn’t gotten that vibe off him. “You mean he’s gay?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said he’s sworn off women.” He kept watching her. “He’s going through a shitty divorce right now and plans to lay off dating for awhile. So don’t get any ideas.”

  She narrowed her eyes and swallowed the slow burn of anger that rose in her throat.

  “Ideas? What makes you think I was getting ideas about him?” Marco couldn’t even figure out that she wanted him, yet he’d deciphered she wanted to get his coworker into bed? Men were idiots.

  “Everybody’s interested in Sebastian. The guy’s a fucking chick magnet. It’s the accent.”

  “It’s more than the accent. He’s hot,” she replied before thinking about it. Marco’s scowl deepened. Eek,
wrong thing to say. Change the topic, Brandy. “I bet you guys get a lot of business from the women. Two hot, single men working a bar?”

  “One would think. I guess the word hasn’t gotten out yet.”

  “How long has the bar been open anyway?”

  “Only about six months, but we’re doing okay.”

  Sebastian returned with her water and gave them a speculative look. He twisted the lid off the bottle and poured it into a cup.

  “You two know each other?”

  “Yes. I’m Brandy, by the way. I hijacked his bike,” Brandy answered before he could. She picked up the water and took a sip. “He’ll tell you all about it while I run to the bathroom.” She stood, winked at Sebastian and then made her way to the back of the bar to find the restrooms.

  Marco knew he looked about as irritable as he felt. Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he waited for the question sure to come.

  “Are you fucking with me?” Sebastian asked from behind the counter. “That sweet little lass hijacked your motorcycle?”

  “Shut it. She’s not as sweet as she looks. The woman’s got balls.” His mouth curled into a sardonic smile. “For a choir teacher.”

  “A choir teacher?” Sebastian tilted his head and looked off towards the bathroom where she’d disappeared. “What, you mean like that lady in The Sound of Music? I always sported a bit of wood over that one growing up.”

  “You’re a sick man, Sebastian.”

  “Yes. So I’ve been told.” His humor dimmed a bit. “And that’s why my Ellen’s divorcing me.”

  Anger drew Marco’s mouth tight. “That’s bullshit. You need to stop giving that crazy bitch any credence. It was her problem, not yours.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Sebastian gave a loose shrug and grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter.

  The hell it didn’t. Everyone always harped on Marco to meet a woman and put down some roots. But if anyone deserved a good woman and the picture-perfect life, it was Sebastian. He just hoped it’d happen some day to the guy.