Bad Boys Over Easy Page 17

  “It’s not my job to do your research for you,” he grumbled.

  “Just do it. Oh, and get ready to save the cover page for me.” Derek pressed the off button and shoved the phone back into his jacket.

  He stepped into the living room and decided to explore. Amanda didn’t have much in the way of furnishings. A couch, a chair, a tiny table and chairs that made up the dining portion of the room, and a spotless kitchenette. Derek’s lips tilted. She wasn’t much of a domestic goddess.

  Four plants sat on her tiny windowsill. They looked to be herbs of some kind. He rounded the coffee table, glancing at her choice of reading material, noting the book on photography. So maybe they had something in common after all—other than lust.

  He walked to a small built-in bookcase. The shelves were lined with psychology books, along with hypnotherapy and mesmerism items. Crystals hung from chains and small candleholders housed tea lights. Everything here had a purpose. Nothing but the photos on the wall in the other room seemed personal. Almost as if she didn’t want to be reminded of the past.

  Derek frowned. The door creaked open behind him and Amanda stood there in a pair of faded denims and a red T-shirt. Her feet were bare, revealing her brightly painted toes, and her hair was wrapped in a fluffy pink towel. Her gaze locked on him. She tensed for a moment then smiled.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” she asked, heading for the small kitchen before he could reply. “I always have one after a show. It settles my nerves.”

  “Please.”

  Her faint soapy fresh smell filled the room, followed by a richer floral scent. She must have applied lotion. Derek imagined the glide of her hands slathering the rich cream over miles of silky white skin. He swallowed hard, before moving to the window. This was turning into his toughest assignment yet.

  Amanda approached a few minutes later carrying a teapot on a tray. She placed the tray onto the coffee table and beckoned him to sit. Derek did so reluctantly. His fingers itched to remove the towel. He wanted to run his hands through her thick blond hair to see if it was as soft as it appeared.

  Everything about Amanda screamed sex, even though he knew that wasn’t the look she was going for. He bit back a smile. She handed him a cup of tea before reaching for her own and then tucking her feet beneath her on the couch.

  Her blue gaze pierced him, daring him to reveal his secrets. He couldn’t and wouldn’t, but it was tempting. Like this intriguing woman. Damn. Could she get any more kissable? Derek didn’t think so. She took a sip of tea. Her tongue darted out to catch a wayward drop. He tensed, envious of the stray droplet.

  “We better get started.” She rose, retrieving her hypnosis journals from the shelves.

  For the next three days, Amanda tried everything in the book to “wake” him up: soft inductions, hard inductions, short scripts, long scripts. He actually felt sorry for her.

  “I don’t know why it’s not working.” She scratched the side of her head, frustration sneaking into her voice as she sat back. She grabbed her cup of tea, the one she had every night, and took a sip.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked, surprising even himself.

  She blinked, then colored.

  “I’m sure you hear it all the time, but it’s true.” He leaned forward. “You leave me breathless.” He spoke the words effortlessly, feeling their meaning for the first time.

  Looking increasingly uncomfortable, Amanda set the cup down. “It’s late. I’d better fix us something to eat. You’re probably hungry and I know I am.” Her gaze strayed back to him.

  Derek allowed her to escape. She obviously needed to distance herself. Over the past few days, they’d grown more aware of each other and their increasing attraction. It was palpable and pulsed in the air like an electric current whenever their eyes met.

  A heartbeat later, Derek rose and followed her into the kitchen. They’d been ordering takeout in the evenings, so his surprise at her culinary offer must have shown on his face, because she commented.

  “I know the kitchen doesn’t look used and it isn’t often, but I can cook.”

  He grinned, purposely crowding her with his body to see the flare of awareness spark in her eyes. “I never said you couldn’t.”

  She pulled fresh vegetables from the small refrigerator and then grabbed a cutting board. She lined the vegetables up before slipping a paring knife from its holder. Amanda began to chop with efficiency. Derek used her distraction to move behind her. He leaned into her hair and inhaled.

  It was like smelling the first spring rain in the New England countryside. Fresh and crisp, lightly sweet with hints of sunshine.

  “Ow!”

  His head shot up at her cry and he glanced over her shoulder. Amanda held her bleeding finger with her other hand.

  “Are you all right?” He moved to her side and glanced around the kitchen for a rag to stop the bleeding. There was none. His gaze strayed to the fancy linen napkins they were going to use for dinner.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured a second before whipping one of the napkins out from under the plates. Dishes skidded across the counter.

  “Hey!” Her brow furrowed. “Stop and watch.”

  Derek froze in mid-motion, his heart skittering in his chest. His gaze went from her face, which was the picture of concentration, to her bleeding finger.

  Amanda’s breathing deepened and she closed her eyes. Within a minute, the blood flow slowed. She opened her eyes and continued breathing deep. Moments later it had stopped.

  “H-How did you do that?” Genuine awe filled Derek’s voice.

  “Self-hypnosis.” Amanda smiled.

  “That’s all.”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m good at my day job.”

  The understatement of the century, from what Derek could see. The words leaving her mouth were followed quickly by a frown as her gaze met his.

  Derek forced himself not to react to her, even though he knew what she was thinking. Amanda had forgotten why he was there. A slip of the knife brought it all back. She was beginning to doubt her abilities.

  Part of him longed to correct her. Pull her into his arms and kiss the frown from her face. The reporter inside denied him the pleasure on both fronts.

  “Where are your Band-Aids?” he asked, forcing his mind away from his conscience.

  She nodded toward her bedroom. “They’re in the bathroom medicine cabinet.”

  He turned and strode to her bedroom. Derek pushed the door open and stopped in surprise. He’d expected her room to be frilly, girly, perhaps soft and feminine.

  Instead, it was made up of hard masculine lines with its mahogany bed frame and hunter green walls. A matching mahogany dresser sat across from the bed. A few more photos dotted its top, along with the coin she used to hypnotize the group each night.

  He ran his hand over the crisp white linens covering the bed. They were soft as silk beneath his touch. He imagined Amanda lying in the center of the bed. Her blond hair tossed wildly over the pillow. Her naked body covered only by a thin sheet. Derek licked his lips, pulling his hand away from the bed.

  Focus, man.

  He continued into the bathroom and found the Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet like she’d said. He grabbed a couple before tucking the box back into the cabinet. Lotions and perfumes lined a thin glass shelf, along with a hairbrush and comb. These were the only feminine touches in an otherwise starkly black-and-white bathroom.

  She simply wasn’t fitting in the easy box he’d constructed. Derek returned to the kitchen and bandaged her finger. She washed the knife, checking to ensure the vegetables hadn’t been splattered with blood before continuing with her task.

  “You don’t have to stand here and watch me,” she said, impatience and something else he couldn’t quite identify filling her voice.

  He propped a shoulder against a cabinet, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t mind. I like watching you.” Shockingly, it was the truth. He couldn’t see
m to keep his eyes off her, and barely managed not to touch.

  Amanda’s breath hitched, but she didn’t look at him, so she missed the smile curving Derek’s lips.

  She finished chopping the veggies and then turned to him. “If you’re going to stand there like a lump then I’m going to put you to work.”

  He straightened.

  “Dig into the freezer and see if you can find the steaks. They’ll have to be defrosted, but it shouldn’t hurt the flavor too much.”

  Derek did as he was told. The whole scene seemed so domestic. Comfortable even. He’d never really done the domestic thing with a woman. He tended to be more at ease with bed sport. As long as emotions stayed out of the equation, he was good. But with Amanda it was different. Easier.

  It surprised him how much he enjoyed helping her with dinner. They worked in the small kitchen like a finely oiled machine, moving fluidly around each other to reach for various items. Derek made sure to brush against her a couple of times, just so he could hear her breath catch.

  Forty-five minutes later dinner was done. He helped Amanda set the table and then opened a bottle of wine he’d spotted in one of the cabinets earlier.

  Her gaze strayed to the bottle. “Derek, I really don’t think—”

  “It’ll compliment the dinner, Amanda. Just have a seat and let me take care of you for a while.”

  She hesitated a moment, then sat. Derek grabbed a candle from the bookshelf and slid it onto the center of the table. He found two crystal wineglasses and brought them along with the bottle over to the table. He poured the wine while Amanda watched.

  He handed her a glass, before raising his own. “Here’s to a lovely meal and an even lovelier woman.”

  He lightly tapped her glass then raised the crystal to his lips. She paused, before following suit.

  Amanda swallowed a larger swig of wine than she’d intended. Liquid courage was the last thing she needed right now. She found it difficult enough to remember this wasn’t a date, and that Derek wasn’t here of his own free will. Although he seemed to be doing everything in his power to prove otherwise.

  The harsh planes of his face softened in the candlelight, giving him an almost boylike quality. His gray eyes glistened, along with the silver in his hair as he spoke about her coffee table book and his interest in photography with gleeful abandon. His passion was apparent, catching her up and binding her in his fiery orbit. She’d never tire of looking at him.

  He truly was a striking man. One that if she were perfectly honest, she found madly attractive. But she couldn’t act on that attraction, could she? Amanda took another drink of wine. Why not? Her conscience screamed.

  Without asking, Derek reached for the bottle of Merlot and refilled her glass. His fingers brushed the back of her knuckles before he returned the bottle to its resting place. Their gazes locked and melded, heating with molten fire and insatiable lust.

  Temptation flooded Amanda, drowning her reasons, before washing away the last of her common sense.

  Four

  Amanda knew she should protest or at least say something as Derek rounded the small table. Her tongue had a mind of its own as it tied her words into knots. Derek’s mouth descended gradually, giving her plenty of time to move away. She didn’t. She wanted this. Wanted him.

  The brush of his firm lips was tender at first, languidly drawing out her reaction before pressing deeper for more. She opened for him like a jack-in-the-box, her tongue springing out to meet his hungrily. The taste of him overwhelmed her, spinning her head faster than the wine ever could.

  His drugging kisses were sensual and seasoned. He didn’t waste energy or hold back. His lips fed from hers, drinking in her essence, demanding a response. And Amanda did respond. Her fingers sank into his shoulders as she stood on wobbly legs to meet him. Their bodies pressed tightly, scraping and throbbing as they tried to get closer.

  Derek’s hands grasped her hips and squeezed before sliding around to cup the full globes of her buttocks. Amanda moaned against his mouth as he kneaded and teased. Moisture flooded her panties as his tongue matched his massages. Her head was spinning, as her leg lifted of its own accord and wrapped around his hard thigh.

  His erection pulsed and grew behind the zipper of his pants. Like a cat against an unsuspecting leg, Amanda slid her body along his length. It was Derek’s turn to groan. He pulled back from the kiss long enough to ravage her ear and neck, nibbling and sucking with just the right pressure.

  “I’ve tried to keep my hands off you, but I can’t fight it anymore,” he murmured.

  Tingles started at the base of Amanda’s skull and then shot straight to her toes.

  Gasping breaths filled the silence of the room as the remnants of dinner were forgotten. Derek reached around, grasping her thigh a second before lifting Amanda off the ground. Her legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he ground his sex suggestively against hers, before striding toward her bedroom.

  They made it as far as the living room wall.

  Derek stopped, pressing her against the wall, the weight of his body holding her in place. Muscles bulged in his neck as he leaned back far enough to strip the sweatshirt from her. He groaned. Amanda’s breasts came close to spilling out of the lace cups of her bra as she struggled for breath.

  He cupped her, threading her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, before taking over with his mouth. The second his lips made contact, Amanda groaned. Her skin was on fire. Like individual notes to a symphony, each caress only added to the pleasure filled discomfort.

  “Do you care about your bra?” he asked in a guttural tone.

  She shook her head.

  Amanda heard material rip a moment before her nipples were released from their bindings, exposed to his heat-seeking mouth and masterful hands. She ground her sex against his, praying for an iota of relief. None came. Her actions only served to ratchet her need a notch higher.

  Derek plucked and suckled, devouring her fleshy peaks in complete abandon. Amanda’s hands smoothed into his hair, before tightening on the strands so she could pull his head back.

  “I-I need more,” she growled, unable to recognize her own voice.

  His nostrils flared while his gray eyes glistened like liquid mercury. Derek’s hands fastened onto the front of her jeans. He deftly unbuttoned the top button before slowly sliding the zipper down, exposing her matching lace panties. He leaned forward and inhaled, closing his eyes in what could have been ecstasy or agony.

  “Let’s take this in the other room before I take you right here against the wall.”

  Amanda gulped and nodded, one of the few movements she was currently capable of performing. He scooped her higher onto his hips and walked the short distance into her bedroom.

  Derek laid Amanda on the bed gently. His hands slid down the length of her body, brushing over her legs, taking her pants with them. She lay against the white linens clad only in her scrap of underwear. He’d never seen a woman more beautiful or alluring.

  He allowed his gaze to take in every curve, every dip. Her nipples puckered, drawing into tiny beads under his perusal. Her skin had tasted like honey against his tongue. He itched to taste her further. The rich smell of sex and arousal hung in the air like an aphrodisiac. He dropped her jeans, before leaning forward to press a kiss upon her abdomen.

  She trembled beneath his touch. He glanced at her eyes, which were now shaded by her long lashes. Her rosy lips were parted as she sucked on one finger to try to gain relief. The sight had his cock hardening to the point of pain. He longed to replace her finger with his shaft.

  His body shook as he fought for control. Never had he been so keyed up and anxious to be inside a woman. Something about Amanda Dillon was decidedly different. It wasn’t her looks, although they suited him well. It wasn’t her fame or reputation. Those attributes were interesting, but not as much as the woman herself.

  He growled low in his chest as he reached for her lace panties and tugged them down. His breath c
aught as he gazed at the bare skin between her legs. For a second he thought he would drool.

  “You’re killing me here,” he murmured to her, while placing a hand over his chest, feigning heart failure.

  She laughed.

  “I can’t wait to taste every last inch of your body and I know exactly where to start.”

  Amanda’s smile faded and she moaned. The finger she’d been nipping trailed from her mouth to her nipple. He tensed, his gaze locking on to her movements. Distracted, Derek fumbled with the belt around his waist.

  “Before I lose my head and forget.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting a few condoms. From the look she was giving him, he hadn’t brought nearly enough.

  Amanda made a noise very close to purring. Derek closed his eyes and prayed for strength. “You are a very wicked woman. You know that?”

  She smiled. “I’ve never been called that before. I kind of like it. Maybe it’ll replace ‘Man Tamer of Manhattan’ as my new nickname.”

  Derek laughed, filing the information away for later use. He slipped his pants down his legs, toeing his shoes and socks off at the same time. “I think it’s perfect. Or maybe I’ll just call you ‘wicked woman.’ It can be my private name for you.”

  He could see the headlines now.

  “I can be a very wicked woman,” she teased.

  Hunger filled his body leaving him rapacious. “Show me.” He’d worry about the cover story later.

  Amanda couldn’t believe the daring statements coming out of her mouth. She’d never been a wicked woman in her life, but with Derek, she wanted to be. He brought out the wildness in her. She glanced down at the muscle she’d only felt through clothing until now. He was glorious in his nakedness. Not quite Greek god, but certainly nothing to sneeze at.

  Her gaze started at his collarbone, before lingering on his wide expanse of a chest. Hair circled his flat disklike nipples, then didn’t reappear until his navel where it squiggled a jagged path down to an impressive erection. Amanda licked her lips. If she were a virgin there would be no way she’d allow that thing anywhere near her, but since she wasn’t she intended to feast on every inch of him.