Deep down, the ancient caveman within him wanted to put his mark on her, to proclaim that she was his, and warn every other man not to trespass. He wanted to pleasure her, do wild, erotic things to her that nobody would ever even dare try to repeat because they knew he’d set a bar so high it could never be surpassed. He wanted to show off, to prove he was the ultimate lover so she’d never dream of being with anyone else.
It was sexist, it would probably piss off most women, but it was entirely true.
He didn’t think it would anger his mystery witch, though. She’d seemed just as into it as he was. Maybe that was one reason why he so wanted to find her again...to see if she shared the fantasy and wanted to finish what they’d started. In public, in private, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to have her.
“Here,” Lulu said, interrupting his heated musings by shoving a trio of dirty plates in his hands. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“You brought it up.”
“I most certainly did not!”
“You’re the one who mentioned bouncy bedsprings.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Laughter on his lips at how easy she was to rile, he followed her inside and up the back stairs. A few steps below her, he found himself eye level with an amazing ass and wished he hadn’t just been picturing such graphic thoughts.
When, he wondered, had Lulu become so thoroughly feminine? She had curves on top of curves, and he couldn’t tear his stare off those amazing hips and thighs as he followed two steps behind her. Thinking about porn and voyeurism and sex ninety seconds before being presented face-to-butt with pure temptation was not a good thing for any guy. Especially not if he wanted to keep his jeans lying flat against his groin.
His weren’t.
Holy shit. They weren’t.
He was hard for Lulu. If he were to be honest about it, he’d have to admit he’d started getting hard when she’d made that crack about her bedsprings.
This was unacceptable on so many levels, he couldn’t even begin to count them. Lulu had made his life hell, she was trouble, she was a part of his past that he didn’t much care to revisit. He had no business imagining her body or her bed or anything else.
On the top step, she swung around and caught him staring.
“I knew you were looking at my ass,” she said, typical blunt Lulu.
He couldn’t even try to deny it. Hell, all she had to do was glance down and see the bulge in his jeans and she’d prove him a liar. Which meant he needed to keep her attention focused above his waist.
“Guilty. You definitely grew up.” He stepped up beside her, forcing himself to smile down at her. “When’d that happen?”
“When you weren’t looking.”
He was looking now, though he shouldn’t be. He couldn’t even figure out why he wanted to. This was Lulu of all people! The girl had poured an entire milkshake over his head once because he’d asked her if she’d been crying. He had no doubt she’d do the same thing again today if she had the chance.
“I somehow suspect you forgot who you were talking to and who you were ogling,” she whispered, blinking those dark eyes—familiar eyes, beautiful eyes—and staring searchingly at his face.
“Maybe I did, for just a minute.”
Some instinct he couldn’t define made him reach up to smooth back a strand of her long, dark hair, which was wind-whipped and soft against his fingers. His fingertips brushed against her cheekbone, and he realized her skin was equally as soft, her peaches-and-cream complexion revealing a flush of color in her face.
Her tongue flicked out and she moistened her lips, exhaling a long, slow breath as the lingering stare continued.
He was hit with the strangest feeling of déjà vu. It was ridiculous, really, because he’d never touched her like this. He’d never even dreamed he might someday have the impulse to lean in and taste that sassy, saucy mouth, to kiss the insults right out of it.
And yet he did.
He suddenly wanted to kiss her, wanted to experience that lush mouth against his own. He wanted to press her soft, curvy body against his and wanted to explore every inch of her.
Of Lulu. Lulu Vandenberg.
“Lulu,” he whispered, feeling himself lean closer, drawn by something irresistible and irrevocable, as if he had no strength of will.
Their faces came close. Their lips nearly touched.
Then she took a step back and grabbed the dishes out of his hands. “I can handle it from here.”
He blinked, shaking his head hard, wondering whether he’d fallen under some magic spell. How else could he possibly explain his desire to do something as insane as kiss a girl he’d barely tolerated for most of his life?
“Thanks for the help,” she said, stepping across the small hallway to the door of her place. “I’ll see you later.”
Not waiting for him to reply, she twisted the unlocked knob and stepped into her apartment. She shut the door hard, the audible flipping of the lock from within punctuating what she’d been saying to him.
Good night. Goodbye. Go away.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered. “Goodbye.”
He would swear he heard her shuddery exhalation from inside. Chaz sensed she stood right on the other side of the door, resting her head against it, uncomfortable, unsure.
How very unlike her.
He turned to do exactly as she wanted. He would go away. For now, at least.
But not forever.
Because something had occurred to him when she’d reacted so anxiously to their unexpected chemistry. For some reason, having him around made her nervous. The situation unsettled her far more than it did him. Which meant for once in their long history, he had the advantage.
How interesting to finally have gained an advantage over Lulu Vandenberg.
And how fun it might be to use that advantage to drive her absolutely insane.
7
ALTHOUGH LULU TRIED to keep her mind off Chaz, mere proximity made it impossible. Over the next several days, she ran into him every single morning. It was as if fate kept putting him in her path. Or, well, their work schedules did.
They both left at around the same time every weekday, and both rode the Metro to their respective places of employment. That meant they walked to the station together, waited together, even rode together for a few stops. They talked, at least as much as two coffee addicts could manage to talk at seven in the morning.
And both of them put on a pretty good front, as if they didn’t really mind being thrown into each other’s company so much, even though she, at least, definitely did. Because being with Chaz—even when she was bleary-eyed and coffee-deprived, focused on work and the shitty commute and the rush of people in the city—still excited her altogether too much for her peace of mind.
She just couldn’t go back to thinking of him as good old Chaz. Not when she’d spent one wicked evening with the man, a man more sexually exciting than any she’d ever known. The attraction was eating at her, the pressure to keep her secret intensely frustrating. Every time she saw Chaz swing his head around to catch a glimpse at a passing redhead, she wanted to stomp on his foot, grab his face and order him to look at her.
Yes, she’d been masked, yes her hair had been sprayed a different color, yes she’d intentionally tried to change the tone of her voice, but still, couldn’t he recognize her scent? The shape of her mouth? The hands, the body, the laugh? Jesus, she would be able to pick him out in a packed stadium, even if she’d never met him before Halloween night, and the fact that he hadn’t even begun to connect her to his mystery witch was driving her a little nutty.
She’d told herself she was being stupid, since evading detection was absolutely necessary. But that hadn’t helped much. The more her frustration built, the more she realized she needed to steer clear of him.
Hoping to do just that, she’d tried to leave earlier one day...and so had he. She’d wondered if he was trying to avoid her, too. Neither of them admitted it, and he probably felt as dumb as she did. As far as he was concerned, they were old neighbors for heaven’s sake, there should be no reason they couldn’t chat comfortably.
Well, except for the part that he’d fingered her to an orgasm and she’d sucked his big, hard cock as if it was the world’s tastiest peppermint stick. But he didn’t know that.
Thankfully, on Saturday she had a break. She wouldn’t have to spend another morning pretending to seek nothing but long-standing friendship for a guy whose body filled her fantasies and whose mouth made her weak in the knees—and who would hate her guts when he found out the truth.
She slept in that morning, but her internal clock wouldn’t let her stay asleep any later than nine. Getting up, she deliberately bounced the springs of her bed, and stepped a little heavier on her hardwood floors. Now that she was aware Florence was downstairs listening, she felt the need to put up a brave, false front. Hell, did the entire building really have to discuss her sex life...or lack thereof? Oh, that moment had been embarrassing. Bless Chaz for knowing exactly what to do to get her past her immediate humiliation by making her laugh.
Chaz the savior, Chaz the sweetheart, Chaz the good guy. How could she ever have considered him Chaz the loser? She must have been the one with rocks in her head.
Needing to get completely out of the neighborhood today, she was grateful for another weekend of unseasonably warm weather. It wasn’t quite as nice as last weekend had been, when she hadn’t even required a jacket. Still, it was pleasant enough for some outdoor activities, and she knew how she would spend her afternoon.
In good weather, some of her coworkers and other city residents got together for kickball games near the Washington Monument every other weekend. A coworker had left her a message last night, saying today would be the last game of the year, and urging her to come. Wanting the company and the exercise, and needing the distraction, she’d agreed. She knew better than to ask her two closest friends, Viv and Amelia, to join in. Viv’s only physical activity was having sex, and Amelia always worked at her craft shop on Saturdays. Still, it should be fun to work off some energy with some newer friends.
Donning athletic clothes and her sneakers, she headed outside. Turning right would take her down to the Metro station, but would also send her right past Chaz’s front door. He was probably busy, almost certainly wouldn’t be looking out the window, and, even if he did, and if he saw her, he definitely wouldn’t come out to talk to her. He probably felt stalked after their daily interactions during the work week.
But...she turned left anyway. She was taking the long way around, adding a couple of blocks to her walk, but it was worth it, if only for her peace of mind.
“Tell me the truth, are you following me or did you plant a tracking device in my jacket?”
Shocked when she heard a familiar voice, she looked to the entrance of a small cafe on the corner, seeing a very familiar man emerging from within.
“Chaz?”
“Hello, Lulu.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I just came out to grab a late breakfast. What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to the station.”
His brow furrowed in confusion and he pointed back the way she’d come. “The station’s that way.”
She scrambled for a suitable retort. “I mean, well, I wanted to grab a sports drink, then I’m heading to the station.”
“Believe it or not, that’s where I’m going, too,” he said with a helpless shrug. “Where are you off to?”
“Up to the Mall for a game of kickball.”
His jaw dropped open. “Seriously?”
Sudden foreboding made her tense. “Yes. Why?”
Shaking his head slowly, he replied, “Well, I’m going to the same place, for the same reason.”
Lulu’s stomach churned. This wasn’t going to be the quick hello-and-goodbye she’d envisioned. “Really?”
“Yep. I’m in an informal league. We play softball in the spring when a lot of people are around. It’s more laid-back in the fall and we play kickball for fun. I heard some people were putting together a late-season game and said I’d play.”
“Oh. I guess smart minds think alike. I played a few times earlier in the fall, and got asked to come today, too.”
Of course, Chaz hadn’t been at those previous games, since he’d been out of the country. She cursed her luck, wanting nothing more than to escape him before she did something stupid, like ask, “Hey, still searching in vain for a redhead with an ass you wanted to nibble on?”
She didn’t, of course, and mentally slapped herself for even imagining him using that beautiful mouth on any sensitive part of her anatomy. She’d had enough wet dreams over the man this past week, not that any of them could compare to the real moments they’d shared in that ATM vestibule.
They were both silent for a moment, then Chaz said, “So, want to go up to the Mall together?”
Always the nice guy. He’d probably rather be anywhere else, with anyone else. But since she couldn’t come up with a logical reason to decline, she merely nodded.
“I’ll wait here if you want to go inside and grab a drink.”
Again, she couldn’t think of any way to refuse. Nodding, she stepped into the café, which sold bottled drinks, and grabbed the first one she could reach. She paid, carried it back outside, smiled and said, “Okay, ready to go?”
“That’s not a sports drink.”
She glanced at the bottle in her hand and realized she’d picked up a container of milk. Good grief, that was the last thing she needed to drink before running around playing a physical game.
Especially since she hated milk.
“Aren’t you going to drink up?” he asked, a sparkle of mischief in his eye.
Damn it, Chaz knew she hated milk. He’d badgered her often enough about the fact that she liked it over cereal, but wouldn’t drink a glass unless she plugged her nose, and she still gagged as it went down.
“No, uh, I think I’ll save it for later.”
“Don’t wait too long, it might curdle.”
Yeah, so might her stomach if she tried to drink the stuff.
As they walked to the station, they passed some people with faces that were becoming familiar to her. Dupont Circle was a small part of a big city, and there was a strong sense of community here.
Chaz was friendly to everyone they passed, several of whom appeared to know him. She noted a lot of women gave him appreciative looks, and she suddenly found herself stepping a little closer to him on the cobbled walkway. Close enough that their legs brushed. That faint contact was all it took to remind her of the erotic moments they’d shared the weekend before, and she quickly stepped away.
But perhaps not quickly enough. Chaz was eyeing her, an inscrutable expression on his face. He appeared confused by something. She had to wonder if his own sense memories were working on him, trying to force the truth of her identity into his brain. Wouldn’t that be about damn time?
And while she knew that would be the absolute worst thing that could happen in the long run, part of her was very interested in finding out just how Chaz Browning would react if he learned that the woman he’d been seeking had been right under his nose the whole time.
* * *
AFTER A WEEK of enforced proximity, Chaz probably shouldn’t have suggested that he and Lulu head up to the Mall together. He’d had fun making her a little crazy this week by always making sure they bumped into each other on the way to work or when walking the neighborhood, but he didn’t want to push her too far. Actually, when she’d mentioned where she was going, he should have kept his mouth shut about being en route to the same place, and found another way to spend the day.
What he should have said, however, and what he had said, were two different things. He wanted to spend the day in the company of the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about...in good ways, and in bad.
Because a funny thing had happened during his campaign to rile her up this week—he’d realized he enjoyed being with her. Lulu had changed a lot. Her demeanor was down-to-earth and approachable. She joked around, but there was no real snark. She was just friendly and funny, never going for a dig when a quip would do, her voice holding no edge, her smile no malice.
And Lulu was certainly not hard to look at—sexy and appealing, even when dressed in sports clothes. Hell, especially when dressed in sports clothes. Spandex did amazing things for that already amazing ass and those legs.
If only she were anyone but the devil-next-door.
As they took the Metro up to the Mall, getting off at the Smithsonian station and walking past the Washington Monument down to the grassy area where the teams usually played, he and Lulu traded stories about kids they’d known and teachers they’d disliked. They had even laughed over some shared memories.
One topic that did not come up was their siblings. Damn, he did not want Sarah to find out Lulu lived right up the street from him. His hotheaded sister might march to her door and demand that Lulu do something about Lawrence, as if she had the right to order her high school boyfriend out of the nation’s capital. But other than avoiding that subject, he and Lulu fell into an easy camaraderie that had been hinted at but never fully realized during their childhood.
Of course, that camaraderie all but disappeared during the game, when they realized they were on opposite teams. Lulu was as competitive as always, while Chaz, who showed up to these games mostly to hang out with friends, barely paid attention to the score.
“Come on, Browning, are you gonna kick it or sit on it?” Lulu called from the pitcher’s mound, her tone pissy.
It was his turn to kick, but he’d taken his sweet time getting to home plate. He’d been talking with a colleague, Tonia, an attractive blonde with whom he’d shared a couple of interesting nights a couple of years ago. No sizzle remained between them, but he still liked her well enough.
“We don’t have all day.”
Lulu’s almost angry tone made him finally give his full attention to the game. “Who made you pitcher?” he asked, watching her lean over to line up her rolling pitch.
“She’s got a mean throw, dude, watch out,” said one of his teammates, who’d apparently gone up against Lulu before.
“Chaz knows all about how mean I am,” said Lulu, her smile appearing forced. She cast a quick, quelling look at Tonia, then got her head back in the game.
Lulu was all business when she pitched, whipping the rubber ball straight at him. It bounced twice before rolling fast and hard, directly toward the plate, where he met it with the broad side of his right foot. The ball flew up and over the entire field, down into a group of kids playing tag. No way would anybody get it back up here before he rounded all the bases.
As he jogged around the field, he caught Lulu’s eye and grinned at her dour expression. “Guess I shoulda warned you,” he called, laughter in his voice. “I’m not so bad at sports anymore.”
“Does that mean I can actually be on your softball team in the spring and not worry we’ll lose one-hundred to nothing?” she asked, her tone sugar-sweet, though her eyes were hard.
Her zinger just amused him even more, and his laughter rang out, simple and joyful. He laughed at her, and at the bright, sunny morning. He thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of being back in a place where he could appreciate a beautiful day like this without a pervading sense of fear or uncertainty.
Maybe someday he’d stop feeling the need to head off to one hotspot or another. At times like this, he could actually envision it. Hell, if he had the right person to make him want to stay, he might never get the urge to leave again.
The thought killed his laughter. He might already have found—and lost—the woman of his dreams on Halloween night. Well, maybe not of his dreams, but she was definitely the woman of his fantasies.
Most of them.
Yeah. Most of them. He wasn’t about to admit to anyone—including himself—that Lulu had appeared in some pretty vivid mental pictures on a couple of occasions this week. She and the mysterious redhead both haunted him. That was crazy, since one was an old enemy and he didn’t know the name of the other. Nor did he have any idea why she’d run out on him.
Thinking back on their evening, he forced himself to remember the number of times she’d tried to dance away, or put up barriers between them. She’d been on guard, making it clear she was only willing to go so far.
Maybe he’d pushed too hard and scared her off. Maybe she’d been afraid she’d come across too strong. Maybe she had a deathly fear of waffles. Whatever it was, something had made her change her mind. He simply wasn’t going to rest until he knew who she was and why she’d left.
After the game, everyone headed for a nearby bar for midafternoon libations. Chaz walked with Tonia, while Lulu fell into step beside Darrell, a guy on Lulu’s team. Chaz tensed, remembering Darrell was often called a pig by some of the women because he was such a player.
Lulu probably didn’t know that, however, being so new to the area. Whatever the guy was saying to her had to be hilarious because she laughed like she was sitting in the front row of a Def Comedy Jam. Chaz kept his eyes on the back of her head, noting the jaunty bounce of her ponytail, a frown tugging at his mouth.
“What’s wrong?” asked Tonia.
“Nothing,” he insisted, not wanting to admit yet that the sight of Lulu so enjoying another guy’s company bugged him.
His goal had been to drive Lulu crazy, not himself. But now, watching her looking up at Darrell, with a big smile on that beautiful mouth, all he could remember was that moment last weekend when he’d stood outside her door, brushed her hair off her face and wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
“How was your first week back?”
“Not bad,” he replied, finally tearing his attention off his distracting neighbor. “I completed the first draft of part one of a series and sent it to editing. The powers-that-be seem to like it and are expecting a wide distribution.”
He’d written several short articles while overseas, all of them distributed by the Associated Press and picked up by news outlets all over the world. But he’d also been asked to do an in-depth series with a narrower focus. They were to be longer pieces—five-thousand words—that could end up featured in one of the big print outlets. He sure wouldn’t mind a Time magazine spot at this point in his career.
“How about you?”
Tonia frowned. “I’m still working on an exposé of that scam charity organization.”
“What was that about again?” he asked, not remembering the details, which she’d mentioned to him the last time they’d talked, before his trip.
“It’s one of those give-microloans-to-African-mothers things.” Tonia sneered. “Another group of bleeding heart do-gooders trying to change the world, twenty-five dollars at a time.”
“Those groups make a big difference in some parts of the world.”
She rolled her eyes and waved a hand, obviously unwilling to even consider that she might be wrong. “Give me a break. I’m sure there’s something dirty going on there, I just know it. But it’s taking me a while to find it.”
Chaz came to a sudden stop, turning to look at her. He suddenly remembered his conversation with his mystery woman, who’d talked about having a job just like that one. There couldn’t be that many of those types of NGOs in Washington, could there?
He might have found a solid clue in tracking her down.
“I’m interested in hearing more,” he said, meaning it. “Sit with me at the bar and tell me everything you’ve uncovered, okay?”
Tonia licked her lips as she slid her arm in his and they resumed walking. Something about her expression sent a warning through his brain. God, he hoped she didn’t think he was just making excuses to be with her, in hopes of reviving their fling.