Illegal Use of Hands

Chapter 8

He had two weeks to prove to her they were good together, and he planned to pull out all the stops. The night before, when he kissed her, his body stood up and begged for more. Not even in his dreams had he realized how explosive kissing Stacy Halligan would be. Now he wanted more. Of her. In his bed. And in his life.

The problem would be convincing her, since their big romance was supposed to be nothing more than an act.

Think of it like a football game and put a plan together, with lots of option plays. Maybe even an end around.

He chuckled to himself at that.

"This is very nice of you."

Stacy's voice jerked him out of his thoughts. She smiled at him, her plump lips begging for him to take a taste. He wanted to lick every inch of them. He could still feel the aftereffects of their kiss. Both kisses, as a matter of fact.

Easy, boy. You're in a public place.

"I'm having fun." He winked. "What's not to enjoy? A great lunch with a beautiful, sexy lady? I'll bet every man in here would pay to change places with me."

She tilted her head. "You really think that?"

He frowned. "Think what?"

"That I'm beautiful? Sexy? You know, those things."

The waiter had cleared their plates, so Max reached across the table and took one of her hands in both of his. He rubbed his thumb casually back and forth across her palm.

"Of course, I do. I always have."

She raised an eyebrow. "Always?"

He nodded.

"Max, you only ever see me in sloppy clothes, with no makeup. And half the time in a bad mood."

"And still," he teased, "I think you're beautiful and sexy."

She started to reply again when the waiter appeared bearing a plated chocolate heart.

"Our red velvet cake heart for two," he explained, setting the plate between them. "A pre-Valentine special. And two forks, for sharing." He positioned the utensils precisely then bowed away.

"Valentine's Day again," she sighed. "When everyone has a Valentine except me."

"Uh uh uh." He waggled his finger at her. "You aren't complaining, are you? This year you'll be celebrating in style. With me. We'll show the asshole and every other jerk who doesn't treat you right exactly what they lost."

"We will?" She wasn't so sure of that.

"Yeah. Not to mention how jealous everyone at the magazine will be," he went on. "I'll bet every woman there would give her entire wardrobe of bikini panties to be romanced by a hotshot quarterback. And I chose you. Keep that in mind."

"But we'll know it's nothing but a part of my image campaign, right?" she asked.

"Maybe." He gave her a slow seductive grin. "Then again, maybe you won't be able to resist my incredible charms. Come on, Stace. Loosen up. We'll have fun whatever we're doing." He lifted her hand, leaned across the table, and placed a kiss in the center of her palm.

As if a switch clicked on inside her, her face lit up in a smile, even though tension still ran through her body. He wanted to pull her across the table and into his lap. This tension radiating from her would not do. He needed to get her to unwind.

"You're right. Fun. To show Kurt and all the others what they lost."

"Right," he repeated.

We're going to have fun, all right. I don't give a s**t about Kurt. My campaign is all about making Stacy realize how special she is to me. And what we could have going. Maybe already do.

Her smile faded, as if she wasn't quite sure she knew how to play this game, and his heart ached for her.

"Right now what I want is to share this red velvet heart-shaped cake with you." She picked up one of the forks, cut off a small piece of the heart, and slid it into her mouth.

Watching her lips close over the confection and the tip of her tongue lick the residual frosting nearly gave his c**k a heart attack. Then she sliced off another piece and held out the fork to him. When he slid his mouth over the utensil, he was positive he could still feel the lingering touch of her lips. The cake was rich and creamy and, for a shocking moment, he visualized rubbing it on her luscious body and slowly licking off every bit of it.

Jesus, Max! In a minute, you'll come in your pants like a horny teenager.

She took another bite for herself, and he stared at the play of muscles in her jaw as she chewed. One tiny piece of frosting clung to her lips, tantalizing him. He reached over with his thumb to blot it then put the thumb in his mouth to suck it clean. Would her n*****s taste as good as the cake, or even better? And if her p***y was as sweet as—

She glanced at him from beneath those insanely long lashes. "You aren't eating your share. Don't you like it?"

Oh, he wanted to eat his share all right. Only his mouth didn't water for the dessert in front of him. The thought of how good every bit of her body would taste was what drove him crazy. He needed to do something. Now.

A thought jumped into his head. If he could make it work, they'd both have an afternoon to remember. And the start of what he hoped would be the relationship he longed for.

"I have an idea," he said slowly. "Can you be spur of the moment? Impulsive?"

She frowned. "Not usually. Why?"

"I want to take you someplace. Right now."

"Now?" She stared at him. "I have to go back to work. Lunch was really nice, Max, only—"

"Yes, it was great. And I don't want the afternoon to end." He grinned at her. "Come on, Stacy. Break the mold. Be spontaneous." He wiggled his eyebrows. "You never know what you'll find if you do."

"Coal in my stocking for Christmas?" she asked.

"Maybe a whole new view of life. Let's get out of here." He put his napkin on the table and signaled for the waiter.

Stacy blinked at him, startled. "What? Wait. We didn't finish our dessert."

"We can take it with us." He gave orders to the waiter to box it up as he handed over his credit card. "You might find a surprise you enjoy even more."

He forced himself to take a deep breath before he leaped across the table and ripped off her clothes. Some things should be done in private. "Call your office and tell them you won't be back for the rest of the day."

She frowned at him. "Max, what's going on here? What crazy idea are you cooking up?"

"I'm cooking up fun. You know, crazy can be fun. Spontaneous can be fun." He winked. "And I think it's time you had some fun."

"Doing what?"

"You'll see. Call your office," he urged. "Go on. Live dangerously."

"I'm probably nuts, but okay." She picked up her phone. "Be right back."