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Sexy in Stilettos (A Sexy Contemporary Romance), Page 8

Nana Malone


  ***

  If there was a contest for most stupid moments, Jaya counted herself a front runner. She had humiliated herself enough for one seventy-two hour period. Letting herself into her condo, the first thing she did was slip off her stilettos. So much for lucky charms. They were supposed to make her feel sexy and confident. To be fair, they’d done their job, but talk about overconfident. A brief flash of her wearing nothing but the heels as Alec kissed his way up her body warmed her from the inside.

  Damn, she really had to get a control on her hormones. Hot sex? Yes. Great sex? Absolutely. Stupid sex? For sure. What the hell had she been thinking, sleeping with the bartender? So cliché. Her skin still tingled as she remembered the way his lips slid over hers and his tongue probed hers in question and response to hers. The way his hands had yanked her against his hard frame. She’d felt every inch of hard muscle and tasted—

  As soon as she remembered the scotch she licked off his body, she felt damp moisture between her thighs—again. Had it been that long since she’d had sex? Yes. She hadn’t even had a rebound since Mr. I’m-an-asshole-who’s-going-to-sleep-with-your-sister. She hadn’t even been in the mood for any hanky-panky. The next thing she knew, she was doing the sexy bartender like she’d been trained at the Bunny Ranch in Nevada. Talk about breaking the seal.

  Scooping up the gold sparkling shoes, she padded into her bedroom for a shower and change of wardrobe. “Deep breath, Jai. One teeny tiny derailment. You can still get back on course.” All she needed to do was find a viable date and come up with a game plan of getting to the client. Brett James mentioned he’d be on vacation for a couple of weeks after they made their decision. So all she needed to do was check to see if Trudeaux got the account. Then Operation Flay-Derrick-I’m-an-asshole-who-slept-with-your-sister was a go. Easy Peasy. Eyes on the prize.

  Except as date prospects went, she came up snake eyes. She had no boyfriend, secret or otherwise, no date to the wedding, and no plan yet of what she would say to Brett James if she managed to get him alone. She slid a glance to the clock as she unzipped the Jersey dress. Six-thirty am. Damn, that meant only an hour of sleep before she needed to be up trolling through her contacts. She’d done a lot of favors in her life. Someone could return one. All she needed was someone bright enough to impress her father and drop dead hunky enough to make Tamara salivate.  How hard could that be?

  A knock at the door had her cursing. Damn Marco. She’d made friends with him in the hopes he’d provide extra security to her first floor condo, but instead, he used their friendship as a reason to stop by at all kinds of crazy hours for chats. Normally she didn’t mind as he was hot and Brazilian. But now, she was exhausted. She threw on her favorite pair of UCSD shorts and grabbed the nearest tank top she could find. Screw a bra. She was too tired to deal.

  Swinging open the door, she said “Marco, as much as I’d love to chat, I—” Her throat went as dry as the Sahara when instead of Marco, Alec leaned against the doorjamb.

  The smile across his lips managed to be sexy and sardonic all at once. “Do you always open the door like that? I could have been an axe murderer or something.”

  For several moments, Jaya couldn’t find her voice. Leave it to her to find the one night stand with some serious detective chops. As far as she was concerned, the possibility of him being an axe murderer wasn’t out of the question. At the very least a stalker. When she found her voice, it squeaked. “Did you follow me here? How did you get into the building?” What was the bloody point of paying so much for a doorman building?

  He put both hands up. “Relax. I come in peace. Reaching into the inner pocket of his leather jacket he pulled out two small plastic cards. “You left your license and credit card.” Tilting his head towards the front door he added, “And, as for Marco, well, turns out he’s a sucker for love.”

  She rolled her eyes, pouring all her acting chops into annoyed nonchalance. Her body, though, traitor that it was, tightened in all sorts of delicious places at the sound of his voice.

  “Perfect.” Feeling exposed in her tank top and shorts, Jaya wished she’d had the wherewithal to put on something a little less…see-through. But she resisted crossing her arms. If he was offended by her tits, tough. He was in her condo. “Um, thanks for saving me the hassle of chasing them down.”

  “Alec. You can use my name. Not like you haven’t used it before.” That annoyingly sexy smile remained. As if he knew just how freaked she was by her behavior last night and wanted to rub it in.

  “Thank you, Alec.” She cursed the breathy quality of her voice.  “But you didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

  His gaze dipped to her chest. “What? You didn’t think you could get away with screwing and running, did you? If you hadn’t left these behind, I would have asked one of your friends for your number. I’ve been told I’m charmingly persistent.”

  Jaya couldn’t hear for the blood rushing in her ears. “I—Um.” A slow blush crept up her chest to the column of her throat and eventually settled in her cheeks and ears. “Look. I figured I’d save us some awkward small talk and I have a lot of work to do so...” She prayed he’d take the cold-shouldered hint and leave.

  So much for prayer.

  “How about I take you out for breakfast? I was very disappointed you left without saying goodbye. I mean, no flowers, no jotted-down phone number…you’d think I was a leper.”

  As he handed over her license, their fingertips brushed. Jaya felt a spark of electricity. Every nerve ending in her body stood at attention, begging, screaming to be touched, fondled, and caressed.

  She snatched her hand back.

  “We both know you’re no leper,” she mumbled, even though her brain admonished her mouth for taking the initiative. Shut up. Shut up. She really had to stop talking so much. She cleared her throat. What does someone say to a sex-god standing in her doorway? “Right. Anyway. Thank you for the offer of breakfast, but I don’t think so. I want to try and get some more sleep and get some work done. I’ll let you go enjoy the rest of your night, erm day.”

  His brow furrowed as he stood erect, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No. I—” She took a breath. “I don’t do one-night stands. I’m not that girl. I’ve never fallen into bed with a perfect stranger. I’m not up on the etiquette, but I’m pretty sure awkward morning-after conversation isn’t something the guys look forward to in the a.m., so I blazed. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

  He quirked a brow. “Oh, come on, Jaya. You ran for you. Not for me. You were a little freaked and you bolted. I get it. I’ve bolted before too. More than once, but we’re not going to get into that. The way I figure it, you can come to breakfast with me. Let me charm you a little. I’m only in town for a couple of weeks but—”

  “Why me?” She didn’t need the whole charm-and-scheme routine. Straight talk worked better.

  His face turned serious. “Hands down, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve come across in so long I can’t even remember. You’re the only woman to get under my skin, and in equal parts it scares the shit out of me and intrigues me.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

  He shrugged. “Because it’s the truth. Because I’m hoping you’ll say yes and we can go to breakfast and eventually end up back in bed. And finally, because something besides me is bugging you and I’d like to help if I can.”

  Rattled by his honesty and sudden perception, Jaya stepped back from him. “Why do you think something’s bugging me?”

  “For starters, you’ve crossed your arms over those delicious breasts of yours, which in my book constitutes a crime. Then, you try and give me the brush off even after that jolt of lust.

  Yeah I felt it too. And finally, your voice wobbled just the tiniest bit. So either I said something wrong or….” His voice trailed.

  Jaya didn’t like how well he read her. “You must be a hell of a bartender.”

&nbs
p; His lips thinned a split second before he spoke. “Amongst other things. You want to tell me what the problem is? I’m told I’m an excellent problem-solver.” He shrugged and that easy smile was back to torment her dreams. “Besides, you helped me out tonight, last night, whatever, by getting me out of work. I owe you a flick of my magic wand.”

  “Unless your magic wand is specifically designed to erase the memory of me losing my job three days ago, the fact that my old boyfriend—who, consequently, is the reason I lost my job—is about to marry my sister in two weeks, and also that  my father believes I’m a perpetual failure, I doubt there’s much you can do.”

  That sexy, lazy smile widened to a grin. “It turns out I might have just the wand for that.”