Boys and Toys

“Right.” He nodded, eyes set on hers. “How much for a party just for me?”

Chapter Two (#ulink_7fb46626-a2ba-5e39-86a8-d61ee0164f35)

Liv stared into Porter’s brown eyes, craning her neck to meet them, not failing to notice his broad, muscled shoulders nearly bursting the seams of his cotton T-shirt.

“You want a private party?” Liv’s mouth went dry. She didn’t do private parties. She’d never even seriously considered doing one—until this moment. Why wasn’t she saying no? Where was her knee-jerk, hell no, perv, response? Because Porter was no creep, that’s why. Because showing Porter her wares, all of them, might be exactly what she wanted to do next Friday night.

Then she had a flash of trying to explain to her dad how she decided to date his junior partner, and how she introduced him to the rabbit on their first date. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest? Would that go over well at Peterson and Tanaka?”

Porter took a casual swig of his beer and half shrugged his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of your father. Are you?”

Liv shifted uncomfortably in her stilettos. Laughter bellowed from the kitchen, where the other partygoers had gathered for a round of shots. “You’re not going to tell him...uh...about...” Her eyes darted to her black duffel bag.

“I take it he doesn’t know?”

Liv blushed crimson. “No. He doesn’t. And I’d rather...keep it that way.”

Paul strode out of the kitchen then, holding a folded check and her dark gray raincoat, which he handed to Liv. “Thanks for doing this,” he said. “And I called the doorman for a cab. He said five minutes.”

“Thanks, Paul,” she said as she shrugged into her belted coat. She cinched it tightly. Paul handed her a folded $100 bill—her tip. “Wow, Paul, thank you.” Porter watched her as she took the bill and added it to the rest.

“You’re more than welcome, Liv. Need help with your bag?”

“I got it, Paul. I’ll walk Olivia down.” Porter grabbed the bag before Liv could answer. She could roll it just fine on her own, but she had to admit she didn’t mind watching Porter’s muscles work. He lifted it as if it weighed nothing and strode confidently to the front door. Porter swung it wide.

“Olivia...after you.”

She felt his eyes on her body as she walked through the door, and the sensation sent a warm tingle down her spine.

As they waited for the elevator, Porter leaned closer.

“You know, I could get into that cab with you right now,” Porter said, his voice a low rumble. “We could have that party tonight.”

“Could we?” Liv’s voice came out throaty and low as she sucked in a breath. Porter took a step closer. It was right then that she realized it had been far too long since she’d been this close to a man.

“I promise it’d be fun.”

“I bet it would be.” Liv’s lips parted as she felt herself moving toward him. She reached up and touched his chest, feeling a wall of muscle. She traced down until she felt the hard point of his nipple.

Before she knew it, she was up on her tiptoes, kissing him.

It wasn’t what she’d planned at all, but there she was, nibbling on his lower lip. He growled and moved in, pressing his body into hers. For a second she forgot about her family and what they might think; all she could focus on was how perfectly they fit together. She groped at the back of Porter’s strong neck, wrapping her fingers into his dark brown hair. His tongue parted her lips, lightly at first, and then when she met his, frantic energy took over. He tasted so good, all she wanted was to devour him whole. He leaned against her, insistent, and she felt him come to life. She was struck by a sudden, delicious thought: he had nothing to fear from being compared to the rabbit. Nothing at all, by the feel of things.

She should be worried about Paul coming out in the hall and finding them, or about anyone else for that matter, but she didn’t care. The kiss was too good.

The elevator dinged and Liv sprang away from Porter, who was breathing heavily, his eyes looking glazed. She moved past him into the elevator, sensing him staring at her legs as she went. Porter followed her in, plunking her bag down on the floor.

“You’re not getting off that easily,” he murmured, pulling her close.

“We’re getting off, are we?” Liv raised an eyebrow. Porter tugged her close, trailing kisses down her neck, to her coat and beyond. Then, nearly on his knees, he slipped his hands through the folds of her coat.

Liv watched as the numbers counted down from the penthouse at fifty-five.

“Oh, God,” Liv moaned, her back pressed against the wall of the elevator as Porter put his hand on her calf and worked it slowly up her inner thigh. He followed his hand with his mouth, leading a trail of dizzying warmth up her leg. She shuddered as his lips touched the softest part of her leg. He breathed in and whispered, “You smell so good. I just want to...”

Liv felt his warm breath on her skin as he explored upward with his hands, his fingers almost to her lace thong, which was drenched and warm. She forgot she was on an elevator and that Porter was the last man she ought to be making out with. She didn’t care about anything but the feeling of his hands on her skin. She clutched the metal railing of the elevator and groaned, arching her back a little. The last thing on earth she wanted was for him to stop. She’d never felt this way before: out of control with need. She felt like something deep inside her had been awakened, something she hadn’t even known was there.

She felt a gentle caress right there, on the damp black satin, and she gasped a little. But she didn’t fight him. She couldn’t.

“My, my...what do we have here?” he murmured as he went for the edge of her underwear, his finger slipping past the elastic.

But then the elevator dinged, breaking the spell, and the doors abruptly slid open.

The cold air of the lobby hit Liv’s skin and instantly, Porter withdrew. Liv’s coat flapped closed and she was struck with cold disappointment as Porter grabbed the bag from the corner and stood up. Liv tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving as Porter held open the elevator door with a devilish grin. Liv pushed her coat together again and pulled on the belt as she stalked out.

The doorman, wearing a suit, sat behind a console desk near the glass doors of the building, and watched her as she walked toward him. He had a half-smirk on his face, but she ignored him, as she flew out of the door.

Liv looked for her cab, but it was nowhere to be seen. Cars rushed by down a busy Clark Street. It had rained while she’d been at the party and the streetlights beamed up at her from the wet sidewalks. Out in the cool September air she came to her senses again. Porter might be enticing, but he wasn’t worth the risk. Not with her parents involved. She felt a stone in her stomach when she thought about having to explain her work.

“Olivia...”

“Call me Liv. Only my...only my parents call me Olivia.” Her lips still felt warm from his kiss. She rubbed them with her finger, wishing she didn’t feel like kissing him right there on the street, again.

“Okay, Liv.” Porter cocked his head as he held her bag. She noticed he didn’t shiver in the cold, even though he’d left his sweatshirt upstairs. Clearly, his hotness wasn’t just cosmetic, but seemed to radiate out from his muscles. “I won’t tell him, you know.”

Liv turned her attention from the cars on the street. “You won’t?” she asked, hopeful.

“I won’t. Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers.

“You were a Boy Scout?” Liv scoffed, not believing him.

“Nope. Sure wasn’t.” He shrugged. Liv couldn’t help herself and laughed. “But I respect the institution. I won’t tell.”

“Good. He’d have a heart attack. And don’t get me started on Mom. She’d probably force me to join a convent.”

“They can’t be that bad. You’re...liberal.” He grinned.

Liv laughed, her breath visible in the sudden chill of the night. “I’m the liberal black sheep of the family, trust me. Sometimes, I think I was switched at birth.” Then again, given her very thin sexual history, she thought, she wasn’t quite so sure she was the black sheep. She thought of her meager two lovers, wondering if maybe her parents had rubbed off on her more than she thought.

“I won’t tell, but you have to do me a favor.” He ran a finger down the side of her arm.

“What?”

“You know what.” His eyes told her she was planning no games.

Liv’s heart kicked up a few notches. “The party? You’re serious.”

“I’m always serious about sex.” Porter’s brown eyes flashed with mischief.