is so damn good. What...what is your critique, if I may ask?"
"Thank you...thank you so much for your interest in my opinion, Mr. Milano. And I, too, think it's very, very good."
Then he started a driving rhythm that made speech, let alone games, impossible. To keep up, Lucy wrapped her thighs around his hips, but he was making her mindless. Release was rushing toward her and she didn't know whether to hold back or run toward its way.
Then Carlo slid his hand between their bodies and stroked the sweetest spot of all. "I think it's time, Ms. Sutton," he said. "I think it's time to scream."
After she did, after he came with an intensity that included a small, stinging bite on her shoulder, Carlo tucked Lucy into the bed beside him. They didn't talk. They didn't do anything to shatter the sated mood.
Sometime in the still-dark hours of the morning, she woke to find him at her breasts again - how quickly he'd learned her weakness! He drew her on top of him this time and she undulated against him, setting the pace, taking what she wanted, giving what he asked for in encouraging whispers.
They slept again.
The next time Lucy woke, the room was filled with pale gray light. Carlo was on the other pillow, studying her face.
She instantly felt a chill at his somber expression. "We shouldn't have - " he started.
"Oh, no," she said, jerking instantly upright. She didn't even bother to hold the sheet against her breasts. "Oh, no, no, no."
"What?"
"Don't you go all fuddy-duddy on me now."
Annoyance replaced the seriousness on his face. "I wish you wouldn't use that term."
"I wish you wouldn't force me to." Now she drew up the sheet, even as she started edging out of the bed. "I'm not going to let you take all the fun out of this."
"The 'fun'?"
"Well, ye-ah." She frowned at him, as fierce as she could make it. "Have you forgotten the whipped cream? What would you call our little boss-secretary role playing, huh? Huh?"
"Lucy - "
"Look. I've got to get back to Elise's. Then I have this family brunch thing. So listen to me fast and listen to me good. Last night we were both in need of a little fun. So that's what we had. Nothing more and nothing less."
And with luck, she'd have to say nothing else about it. No matter what she might want to say. No matter when she figured out what exactly that might be.
Lucy carried a tray of orange juice onto the back patio and stopped before her father. "OJ, Dad?"
He took a glass and she moved on to one of her older brothers, Sam. His nose was buried in the business section of the Sunday paper and she raised her foot to tap the middle with her sandal. "Hey, Mr. Wall Street. Want something to drink?"
He looked up at her as he folded the paper into his lap. "Don't mind if I do. And what's got you all rosy-cheeked this a.m., Goose?"
Rosy cheeks went even redder under his scrutiny, if their heat was any indication. Lucy wasn't going to give him her first guess, though. Telling her brother she was suffering from beard burn was just not going to happen. "What's with the newspaper?" she said, changing the subject as she slid her tray onto a nearby end table. "Don't you get enough financial fodder with your weekday dose of the Wall Street Journal?"
He stretched out his long legs and ran a hand over his crisp, short golden hair. "I was poring over the want ads for you, little sister. Someone's got to be concerned about your future."
"For a minute there I thought she could make a mighty fine waitress, but then she neglected to bring me a glass of orange juice," Jason, her other brother, complained. "Thanks for nothing, Lucy."
She shook her head, looking between their handsome, supercilious faces. "And to think I moved back to San Diego because I missed you guys." Still, she carried over a juice to Jason, sprawled on a cushioned lounge chair.
"You came back because you were broke," he said, reaching for the glass.
At that, she lifted it higher, letting the liquid slosh over the rim of the glass. "Whoops," she said as juice spilled onto the lenses of his dark glasses. "Look what I just did."
He sprang to his feet as liquid ran toward his chin, whipping off his sunglasses and then lunging for her as she leaped away from him. "Lucy,