“You want me to give you lessons in seduction?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t imagining this. Because he’d had these sort of dreams before.
She straightened her spine and shook her head. “I don’t want lessons in seduction. I want lessons in submission.”
Holy shit. Screw the New Orleans heat wave. It was a certified scorcher in this small little bistro. His neck was hot, his jeans were tight. His mind was operating in overdrive. He started to open his mouth to speak, but everything was a jumble.
She brought her hand to her mouth, covering it. “Shit,” she muttered. “That was a ridiculous thing to ask. Completely presumptuous. You’re probably not even attracted to me. Forget I said it.” She backpedaled as she clearly misinterpreted his silence.
“I assure you, my attraction to you is not the issue. I think the bigger issue is—are you attracted to me?”
“You’re handsome,” she said, her lips curving in a sweet smile as she locked eyes with him. “You’re very, very handsome, Nate.”
Handsome was good. He could work with handsome. And because he didn’t even want her to ask the question about herself, he preempted her. “And for the record, Casey, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
She beamed. “Thank you. So will you do it then? Will you teach me? Or is there some bro code you won’t cross because of my brother?”
He laughed at the notion of Jack Sullivan having a problem with the two of them. That simply wasn’t Jack’s style. He didn’t issue hard and fast rules about anyone’s love life, or say things like don’t touch my sister. He wasn’t that kind of guy. “Jack’s not like that. You know that as well as I do.”
“I know. He’s not a rules guy.”
Hell, Nate wasn’t either. He wasn’t even that ticked off when his college buddy Bryan had hooked up with his own sister, Kat, especially since those two were happily married now. Not that marriage was on the table in this scenario with Casey. Nor was a real relationship either.
Sex was on the table.
Sex was what he wanted.
He wanted nothing more than to teach her, to take her, to please her. But something nagged at him. A relationship that was far more important than a bro code would ever be—his relationship with her. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he said because as much as he wanted her, he didn’t want to lose her.
“I don’t either. That’s why this is perfect. We’re friends, and we’re not trying to be anything more. You’re in between women. I’m not dating Grant yet and won’t even have dinner with him for a month because he’s going out of the country. So we have this little block of time, and no one gets hurt because we know exactly what it is. And when we’re done with your . . .” she stopped and tilted her head coquettishly, “. . . tutoring, we go back to being just friends. You’re not the committed type, so this is perfect. It can never be more than it is, and therefore neither one of us can get hurt. Perfect. Business. Arrangement.” She finished by brushing one palm neatly against the other.
He shook his head, impressed with her negotiating style. Direct and downright enticing.
Still, were they really going to attempt this? His analytical mind began to turn it around like a Rubik’s cube. On the one side was their friendship. On the other was his desire for her. But if they went in with eyes wide open and expectations clearly laid out from the start, they’d be fine, right? She was a woman who deserved a man who could commit, but she wasn’t asking him to be that man. She was asking him to show her how to get down on her knees.
Fuck analysis.
With that image in mind, there was only one answer, because this was heaven—this was his chance to have his hands and tongue on the woman he’d lusted after, fantasized about and dreamed of, and still keep her in his life as a friend. This was the chance to drive her wild with pleasure and know that the next night, next week, next month they’d still be in each other’s lives. This was having your cake and eating it too.
“You want this, Casey? You really want this? No feelings, no strings, just lessons?”
“Yes. There’s no reason this won’t work perfectly. I mean, except for the fact that it’s one-sided. I’d be getting a lot more out of it than you would. What can I do for you?” she asked, so damn earnest and cute.
He laughed once more. “Trust me. I’ll be getting plenty out of it.”
Namely, he’d be getting her out of his system, and once he did it would be even easier to be around her. Maybe he wouldn’t be in a state of constant arousal every time they went to the movies or dinner.
“Are you sure?”
“Casey. You’re going to need to stop questioning me,” he said in a commanding tone. “That’s your first lesson. The next one starts now.”
CHAPTER FOUR
New Orleans, evening . . .
He threw the napkin on the table and reached for her hand. Her expression was one of complete surprise. “Dance with me.”
Her lips quirked up and she seemed to understand what he’d done. Given her an order. She nodded demurely and he led her to a small sliver of a dance floor, near where the woman with the microphone was singing a Billie Holiday number. He pulled Casey in close. She tensed briefly, as if unsure where to rest her hands, whether on his shoulders or waist. He planted them firmly on his shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her sexy, slim waist that fit perfectly in his hands.
“Just relax and let me lead,” he said, whispering in her ear, a waft of her tropical scent drifting by his nostrils. She shivered briefly against him, and that nearly did him in. He stayed strong, swaying gently, guiding her in slow, sensuous moves. “I’ll show you how to let go, but you have to trust me. And that’s where it starts. With trust. I’m not a Dom, you’re not my Sub—we’re not going to join a BDSM club, or sign a contract. But I can show you how good it will feel when you give up control.”
She breathed in sharply, as if acclimating to new air on a distant planet. “Why do men like a woman to give up control? What is it about the lack of control that men like so much?”
“It’s not that they like a lack of control. But a man wants a woman who gives herself to him. He wants a woman to melt into his arms, to get aroused from a kiss on the back of her neck,” he said, and traced a fingertip gently under her hair, watching her reaction as she drew in a breath. “It’s the hand on her arm.” He trailed his fingers down her bare skin to her elbow as he leaned in to whisper, “Or warm breath near her ear.” She gasped, and he kept going. “He wants a woman who’s so turned on, she’ll nearly beg for it. He wants her abandon. He wants to be the only one to make her feel that way.”