Wicked Pleasures Page 7

  Renae’s hand hesitated at his temple. Then she smiled, drew her finger along the line of his cheek then down to his jawline and kissed him. “Not in the least.”

  Now had he been sleeping with the resident…

  Renae caught her mind traveling down the unwanted avenue and tried to draw it to a halt.

  But the truth was that the instant he admitted that he and the woman he was dating weren’t engaging in any sack sessions, that the resident hadn’t spent the night in the bed they were currently in while she had spent a nice-size chunk of the past three days there…well, gave her a bit of satisfaction, however wicked.

  Not that she’d ever let Will know that. Oh, no. No matter how deliciously tortured he looked, she wouldn’t feed that tidbit to his enormous ego.

  Speaking of enormous…her gaze dropped to his semierect male member that was large even in slumber. And a part of her was glad that she knew that over the resident. Liked that when she reached out, she could touch the warm flesh, watching as it grew thicker, more erect. Reveled in the feel of its hardness in her palm, a hardness caused by her and her actions.

  “So tell me more about these fantasies you used to have about me and Tabitha,” she coaxed, her mouth watering with the desire to taste him against her tongue.

  Will groaned as she completely encircled his girth and gave a calculated squeeze. “‘Used to have’ being the key words,” he said, dipping his chin into his chest so he could watch her. “But of course you shot all that down by revealing you weren’t a lesbian. Or at least bi. Bi would have been nice. Because it means you—”

  Renae scooted closer to him and pressed her tongue against the head of his need. She looked up at him. “Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

  “No. Never. Perhaps it’s nerves. Or guilt. Guilt does the strangest things to—”

  Renae moved her mouth over the head of his arousal and swirled her tongue along the sensitive rim, satisfied when his sentence ended in a low, needy groan.

  She slid her mouth farther down his length and applied suction, then released him. “You were saying?”

  “I was saying?” His eyes had a faraway look in them. “To hell with what I was saying. Just continue.”

  She gave a quiet chuckle and did just that.

  8

  THE FOLLOWING NIGHT Will was no closer to making sense out of what was going on inside his head than he’d been the morning before—with or without Renae’s decadent mouth on his person.

  He swept through the waiting area of St. Vincent Mercy Medical Center, not willing any ill fortune on the general population but wishing things were a little busier so he could occupy his mind with something other than the dilemma he was currently facing. He’d been on the job for an hour and it felt like he’d been there at least ten.

  He ran into first-year resident Evan Hadley coming out of one of the examining rooms. “Hey,” Will said. “Anything interesting happening?”

  Evan had everything going for him: good-looking, clever, with the type of all-American football-hero grin that made the nurses swoon. Will would have hated him on sight if he hadn’t been instrumental in bringing the resident on board as a favor to one of his college professors.

  Besides, the nurses had swooned over Will in the beginning, too. But once someone on the staff reached the one-year point, and fresh blood came in, the previous object of the nurses’ affection was cast aside.

  Evan was shaking his head. “Nope. Nosebleed.”

  Will made a face. “That’s about as exciting as it gets tonight.”

  Evan nodded as he made a notation on the chart he held. “Makes me wish I was still in L.A. Even a boring medical convention is more interesting than this.”

  Will pointed at him. “That’s right. You attended the first weekend, didn’t you? Did you run into Janet?”

  “Once or twice in the hall.” He shrugged. “What’s it look like today from your side of the center?”

  “Even more dead than on your side.”

  Evan began walking toward the nurses’ station. “I guess we should hope it stays that way.”

  “I guess.”

  Will glanced at his watch, conversed with a couple of the nurses about ongoing cases, then walked back toward the locker room, his thoughts circling back to Renae. He tried to convince himself that it was the void that allowed her entrance, but the truth was he couldn’t seem to shake her from his mind no matter how hard he tried.

  Despite his strange conversation with her the day before, precipitated by her asking about Janet, they’d gone on to spend not only the remainder of that morning in bed having phenomenal sex, but the rest of the day, getting up only to raid the fridge and place a call for Chinese delivery. And they’d ordered lots of it, because not only did everyone know that you were hungry again a half hour after eating Chinese food, but at the rate he and Renae were burning calories, they’d needed the sustenance.

  Funny, he’d never factored in pure exhaustion as a reason to stop having sex.

  At somewhere around four in the afternoon he’d fallen into a dead sleep only to wake to the sound of the alarm at seven-thirty…alone. No note. No panties left behind on his bedside lamp. No sign that Renae had been there at all.

  Well, except for his memories, his tired muscles and her scent, which seemed to be everywhere.

  The maddening woman was out to drive him insane. He could feel it in his bones.

  And the idea that she was in it only for the sex bothered him on some level he was reluctant to pursue.

  “Bugger.”

  That didn’t make any sense, now, did it, it bothering him that she was after him just for the sex? After all, he was only in it for the sex, so why shouldn’t Renae feel the same way? His judging her actions as somehow…questionable emerged as downright sexist. The whole what’s good for the goose is not good for the gander argument. The man was a stud, the woman a slut syndrome.

  He slapped the chart he was carrying down on the round table then sat in one of the five chairs, the locker room blessedly empty at the beginning of the shift. In an hour or so the opposite would be true as the night staff began coming and going, restlessness settling in.

  Only Will’s restlessness seemed to be a constant presence these days.

  He didn’t find it the least bit amusing that it had been his restlessness, his sexual frustration, that had chased him into Renae’s arms to begin with. Now it was Renae’s arms—and his not wanting to leave them—that were the cause of his restlessness.

  Colin had been right to stay out of this one. Hell, if he could find a way out, he’d take it.

  If only Renae had been the least bit clingy…asked him to stop seeing Janet…displayed just a hint of jealousy, he suspected everything would be different.

  And there lay the quandary.

  Will had never believed himself to be shallow. But he couldn’t help thinking if he was—if men in general were—it was because of the women they dated. He’d faced his share of scornful women who had willingly shared his bed one night, knowing there would be nothing beyond that and then had hated him when he didn’t call them the next day anyway.

  Was the reason why he’d sought Renae out after the first time because she hadn’t expected him to call? Hadn’t expected anything from him, period?

  Will rested his head against his hand and scratched his temple. If that was the case then there was more than a little merit to those books on dating rules and the whole Mars-Venus angle that he’d scoffed at such a short time ago. Could it be true that all women had to do was play hard to get? Make the man feel like he had to work to get her attention, and—bam!—the man in question was a goner?

  Another curious question began forming in the back of his mind. Would he even still be dating Janet had she slept with him early on in their relationship?

  He glanced at his watch again. Oh, boy, this was certainly getting him nowhere fast.

  Of course, the mind-set of the woman in question would actually have to
be for real. Janet genuinely wanted to wait for her wedding night. Renae was genuinely in it just for the sex. He didn’t think he’d be struggling with thoughts of either of them—or thinking about them at all—had he sensed that they were playing games. Like if Renae showed even a hint of “I’m pretending I don’t care, but I’m just playing with you, but could you call tomorrow anyway?” Or if he saw in Janet anything that equaled, “I’m not giving you sex because it’s my way of manipulating you into paying for the most expensive wedding this side of the Atlantic.”

  Then there was another question: Was it possible to want two different women for two completely different reasons?

  He glanced toward the sealed window at the dark night beyond. Was it possible for him to be in any worse shape?

  There was a brief knock on the door and then it opened inward, revealing Janet’s father, Dr. Stuart Nealon, who also just happened to be the head of staff at the hospital.

  Will swallowed hard as he scrambled to a standing position.

  “Will, there you are,” Stuart said, his face looking stern. “I was hoping we could have a talk, you and I. Man to man.”

  Oh, yeah, he realized with growing dread, it was very possible for things to get worse. And they just had.

  RENAE FOLDED thick Turkish terry cloth robes and stacked them on the display shelf at Women Only, her thoughts as far away as where the robes had come from. Before she knew it, she reached the bottom of the shipping box and stood for long moments blinking as if unsure what to do with it.

  “The robes are nice, but they’re not that nice.”

  She looked up to find Lucky coming into the main showroom from the dance room. Lately the pretty redhead had been coming in after-hours to do some stretching and simple calisthenics, claiming she needed to wind down after a long day of trying to get her shop together downtown…and before she went home to Colin.

  Renae smiled and shook her head. “Sorry, what did you say? I just can’t seem to concentrate on anything lately.”

  Lucky came to lean against the checkout counter, her gaze homing in on Renae’s face. “I was just commenting on your distractedness.” She took the box from her and began collapsing it so it would fit in the Dumpster out back.

  “I was hoping Ginger would come by tonight. She’s barely been in the shop all week and…” And Renae had been hoping to talk to her.

  Lucky squinted at her. “Look, Renae, there’s obviously something going on that I don’t know about, something you’ve been reluctant to talk about.”

  Was it that obvious? Renae picked up some packing material from the floor.

  “I just wanted to let you know that if you need an ear, I’m here, you know?”

  She stood up and took in the genuine affection on Lucky’s face. “I know,” she said quietly.

  And that’s exactly when she decided to talk.

  But it wasn’t about Will and their…strange but exciting rendezvous, even though he seemed to be taking up more and more of her thought space recently. Rather for the first time since the idea had taken root, she poured out to Lucky all her professional hopes, all her dreams.

  “I don’t know where to start,” she said, deciding the beginning would be best. “When Ginger took me on five years ago, I never thought beyond the next minute. You know, stock the shelves, come up with new ideas that women might be interested in—”

  “Give massages, teach belly-dancing classes,” Lucky added with a warm smile.

  “Exactly. Everything was going fine. I mean, I was happy with my job. Happy working with Ginger.”

  “But…”

  Renae hadn’t realized she’d fallen silent until Lucky prompted her. “But…no, not but. I’m still very happy here. I can’t think of any place else I’d like to work. It’s just that…my interest has evolved.”

  “Interest in the shop?”

  Renae nodded, stared at where she still held the packing material in her hands then rounded the counter to throw it away. “First Leah Westwood announces plans to open a sister shop near Sylvania. I mean, I knew she was part owner here, but…”

  “Then you hired me on….” Lucky lead on.

  Renae smiled at her. “You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?”

  “Mmm. I suspect I’ve known since before even you realized it.” She drew up beside her and slung an arm around her. “You don’t want to merely work here anymore, you want to buy into Women Only. Or maybe even open a sister shop of your own.”

  Renae stared at her.

  Lucky smiled. “What’s say we go into the parlor and talk about this over a cup of ginseng tea?”

  Despite the added weight to her shoulders caused by Lucky’s arm, Renae felt like a hundred pounds had been lifted from her. Now that she’d spoken the words aloud, her hopes and her dreams didn’t seem like some sort of wispy, insubstantial fog, but a solid ladder leading to heights unknown.

  And as Renae followed Lucky into the other room, she discovered her heart was pounding with the desire to climb as high as she could go.

  “WHERE DO THINGS STAND between you and my daughter?”

  Will blinked at the elder Nealon. Upon hunting Will down, er, finding him in the staff locker room, he’d suggested they go to the cafeteria for coffee and a doughnut. Will had skipped the doughnut, and wished he’d gone for the decaffeinated coffee because his nerves were already stretched taut, his hand nearly shaking when he lifted the paper cup to his lips.

  “Pardon me?” he very nearly croaked.

  Stuart grinned. “Did you think you’d be able to keep your dating Janet from me for long?”

  Will put his cup down and shook his head, trying for a casual grin of his own. “No, sir, I didn’t. I just didn’t think you’d find out about us so soon.”

  In all honesty, he hadn’t been thinking at all when it came to Janet’s connection to the hospital chief of staff. It had been two weeks into their dating that he’d even learned of the connection. And by then he’d already been knee-deep into his plan to seduce the pretty resident.

  “Yes, well, I’ve actually known for some time. Since the beginning, in fact. You see, my daughter and I don’t have many secrets.”

  Will was glad he hadn’t been sipping coffee just then or else he might have spewed it all over the other man.

  “She made me promise not to say anything to you, though.”

  Then why was he telling him now?

  Will absently rubbed his chin. “Yes, well…I’ve grown very…fond of your daughter, sir.”

  Stuart waved his hand. “Enough with the ‘sir’ bit, Sexton. You’ve worked here for how long now?”

  “Nearly six years, sir.” And two years ago Stuart Nealon had been elevated to chief of staff.

  Stuart’s grin widened. “I think that’s long enough for us to advance to something more personal. Please call me Stuart.”

  Will nodded. “Stuart. Yes, right then. Stuart.”

  Why was he getting the impression that Stuart was going to ask him what his intentions were toward his daughter? And just what “secrets” hadn’t the two kept from each other? Did his boss know that he had yet to have sex with his daughter? Or did he think the two of them were going at it at every opportunity?

  Stuart’s stern face didn’t give anything away. Will knew that one didn’t rise to Stuart’s level without having learned a certain amount of self-control—and a really good poker face.

  “Anyway, as luck would have it Janet is not the reason I wanted to speak to you.”

  Will fought not to blink. “Oh?”

  “Yes. You see, I’ve had my eye on you for some time now, Sexton.” He shook his finger at him. “You’ve made quite an impression on me and on everyone you work with.”

  Will’s ego inflated at the bit of flattery even as a warning alarm went off in the back of his head.

  “I seem to recall your being interested in a day position in the trauma center….”

  “Um, yes, sir. I mean, Stuart. I was and am still v
ery much interested.”

  Stuart smiled. “Good. Keep your nose clean, boy, and you just might get what you want.”

  The older physician stood up and Will followed suit even though he was afraid his knees were knocking together so hard the other man would hear them.

  That was it? That’s what Stuart had wanted to speak to him about? To tell him he was being considered for the day slot?

  Or was his mission to hint, keep his daughter happy and Will would in turn be given a chance at professional happiness?

  Oh, what a tangled web we weave, Will thought.

  “Pardon?” Stuart asked as he led the way out.

  Will blinked at him. “Sir? I didn’t say anything.”

  At least he hoped like hell he hadn’t said anything. Because everything he’d been working toward for the past six years hung in the balance.

  9

  THE FOLLOWING DAY was Renae’s usual day off and she’d decided to use it to take Lucky up on her advice and come up with a written plan for Ginger to consider. A plan that would give her the option, over time, of buying interest in the shop. A plan that would take her into the future.

  The future…

  Now that was a concept she hadn’t given much consideration to before. Even now—as she lay across Will’s bed, spent and sated, one of his legs crossing hers—tomorrow loomed large and mysterious and more than a bit exciting.

  “I always wondered what that song ‘Afternoon Delight’ meant.”

  Renae chuckled quietly at Will’s joke, rolling her ankle to knock it against his. “We’ve had sex in the afternoon.”

  “Yes, but until now it usually started at another point. You know, in the morning…the night before…”

  Renae’s smile felt plastered to her face.

  The last person she’d expected to see at her door an hour earlier had been Will. She’d thought that since he’d worked last night, he’d be asleep. Instead he’d stood at the door looking as irresistible as a double-double chocolate brownie and invited her down to his place for a quickie—he’d said it with an irresistible waggle of his brows that indicated there would be nothing quick about it. Since she’d already put together a lot of what she hoped to present to Ginger, she’d decided she needed the break. The emphasis on break. She intended to be back in her condo by five o’clock in order to put the finishing touches on her proposal.