Glower scare you off.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “And don’t leave without saying good-bye.”
Deke watched the exchange, and realized that he was grinding his teeth. Bastard.
Kimber was everything his cousin pursued with single-minded vigor: the promise of sweetness, white lace, and innocent sighs. The fact she had a healthy hint of red in her hair was just a bonus.
Not this woman. Not this time. If Kimber was off limits to him, Luc wasn’t getting a piece of her ass, either.
The muted slam of a door down the hall let Deke know his cousin was safely ensconced in his office. He turned his attention back to Kimber. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“I came to ask you for a favor. I realize this is odd but…” She drew in a shaky sigh, then raised her chin, seeming to take her nerves in hand. A moment later, she sent him a direct stare. “Would you teach me about sex, the way you like it?” Generally, Deke’s expression conveyed none of his thoughts. His line of work made a poker face essential. But Kimber had his jaw dropping on this one. He couldn’t have been more stunned if she’d asked him to dig a hole the size of the Grand Canyon with his bare hands.
“What?”
“I want to learn about the way you like to have sex.” The way he liked to have sex? Like it was some foreign f**king planet?
Something here was wrong. Very wrong. Virginal Kimber couldn’t possibly want what he wanted. It shouldn’t even be in her vocabulary. Hell, maybe it wasn’t. She probably didn’t have the faintest idea what she was asking for.
With that sobering thought, irritation doused his manners, and he shook his head. “Why the f**k would you want that?”
Kimber didn’t bat an eyelash at his language. Deke gave her credit for that—and having the guts to come here in the first place. Growing up with the Colonel and two older brothers, likely she’d heard every four-letter word known to man, and a few they’d probably made up on their own. He wondered where she’d come up with the fortitude to ask him to…what? Be her sexual tutor? He damn near snorted at the thought of all the things he’d like to show her.
“I think it’s time I expand my horizons,” she explained in a breezy, practiced manner. “And for all your brash attitude, you’re an honorable guy. You’d never hurt me—”
“Which is exactly why I’m going to say no to you before you get any farther in that little speech.”
“I haven’t finished.”
“You shouldn’t have started.”
“I need your knowledge. I have to know how to please a man with your wants.” His wants. As if it was easy. As if he could just draw her a picture. He held in a bitter laugh. “Let me get this straight: You want to learn how to f**k me, but you have no clue what that means, do you?”
She bristled. “I do. You’re into ménage.” How the hell had she learned that? Surprising. Perplexing. Disturbing. So damn arousing.
But the way she said the word ménage, like it scared the hell out of her. Deke laughed. Long and hearty, out loud and totally at her expense. “Kitten, you’re in way over your head.”
“Please don’t treat me like a child. I’m not the most experienced woman. So what?
Everyone starts from scratch. I’m trying to learn. I’m not asking you for a commitment or a lot of your time. I’m talking an evening or two. What’s your hang-up?”
So the little kitten still had claws. He found that wildly exciting. She’d look mighty fine spread out on this gleaming round table, parted legs dangling, swollen pu**y open to him, while she mewled, a pant away from orgasm…
He cleared his throat and forced himself to focus. “Forget for a minute that you only have a vague idea what you’re asking for. Let’s get to the bigger question: Why? Why do you want to learn about ménage?” Kimber folded her hands in front of her and hesitated. She was trying to decide how much to tell him, formulating and discarding plans. He gave her a minute to get her head together. He could wait. It wouldn’t take long for him to get to the bottom of all this shit.
“You may be aware that, shortly before you came to work for my father, he had been guarding Jesse McCall.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“Jesse and I…became very close that summer. We shared a special connection.
You could say our romance blossomed. We’ve both dated other people, but it’s just not the same. And our relationship has only grown stronger over the years. We’ve kept in constant touch via e-mail and phone calls. We share our hopes and wishes and dreams. I’ve had a lot of years to think about him, about us, and I believe he’s the one for me.”
Someone hand him a barf bag. She honestly believed that, while Jesse was churning out hits and banging a different woman on every stop of his concert tour, their friendship had some special significance in his life? He supposed it was possible—on the twelfth of never following a blue moon right after hell froze over.
“I see,” he drawled. “So what do I have to do with all this?”
“Well, about six months ago, we talked about our relationship at length. I told him I thought he was the one.” She bit her lip, hesitated. “He told me that he cares for me very much, but that his…lifestyle would shock me.” Based on what the tabloids printed? “It would.”
“I’ve seen the pictures of him with different women. I’ve heard the rumors that he’s been into this whole ménage scene. I know what I need to do to have a future with him. He says he doesn’t want to taint me and thinks I couldn’t cope. I need to prove to him that I can be everything he needs.” Holy shit. Was she completely out of her mind? She wanted him to tutor her in pleasuring the pretty-boy crooner and some unknown ass**le. Did she really still have a teenage crush on the celebrity, the kind that made her squeal each time she heard his name? An immediate denial bit into his gut.