As she’d run down the hallway, she’d heard him call after her but she hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t stopped running until she’d gotten back home.
Nooooo, definitely not going to think about that part.
“So what happened?”
Christie jumped as Marisa, blue eyes avid, deposited herself on the chair next to Christie’s desk.
“C’mon, St. John. Tell me. Did you do it?”
“Do what?” Christie fussed around with the mouse. Did the world really need to know about her one-night stand with a complete stranger? Uh. No, it did not.
“You know what I’m talking about. And you gave me nothing over the phone, so spill.”
Christie looked at her screen as her barbarian warrior finally succumbed to the rat and died a hero’s death. “Oh, great. Look what you did. You distracted me and now Bjorn’s dead.”
Marisa wasn’t fooled for a second. “Who cares about Bjorn? I want to know what happened with Mr. Hotness.”
Dammit. If Marisa thought you were hiding something she wouldn’t give up until she’d unearthed it.
“Oh. Him.” Christie dealt with her barbarian’s remains, eyes on the screen. “Nothing.”
Marisa didn’t say anything. Christie gave her a cautious, sidelong glance. Her friend’s mouth was open in a silent O of surprise. “Oh my God. You slept with him!”
“What?” Christie squeaked, fiery heat rushing over her. “How did you know? I mean, I never…we didn’t…”
“Ha! You did! You so did!”
“Did what?” One of the guys passing by Christie’s desk, paused, looking interested.
Christie froze while Marisa flapped a hand at him. “Get out of here, Mike. This is girl talk.”
Mike nodded as if the dismissal were perfectly acceptable and moved on.
“Okay,” Marisa said in a quieter voice once he’d gone. “Know this—you are the worst liar in the world so there’s no point trying to hide anything. Tell me what happened. From the beginning, please. Leave nothing out.”
Christie chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to tell her friend. Because then she’d have to reveal her ignominious retreat five seconds after having sex with him.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked bluntly.
“Because I’m bloody jealous,” Marisa replied, just as blunt. “That guy was so hot he nearly set me on fire.”
The beginnings of a tiny, helpless smile began to curve Christie’s mouth. Yeah, Joseph had been hot. And he’d thought she was hot, too. And she’d been the one to kiss him, taking what she’d wanted for a change, rather than letting self-doubt make her decisions for her.
Couldn’t she be the tiniest bit proud of that?
“Well…okay then.” She gave the area another quick scan in case any more of the guys were lurking around, then leaned forward. “We…um…ended up in his apartment. And…uh…I kissed him.”
“You what?” Marisa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.
The heat of Christie’s blush could have powered a small island nation. She held up a finger. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Her friend grinned at her. “Okay then, have it your way. So, anyway, the kiss was…?”
“It was nice.”
“Nice?”
Christie grinned. “Fine, it was more than nice.”
“It was fantastic judging from the way you’re blushing right now,” Marisa observed. “So, after the kiss? You did it then, right?”
Christie blushed harder. “Yeah.”
“Was it good? Come on, don’t leave me in suspense!”
On the bathroom vanity. Cold marble beneath her, Joseph’s heat between her thighs…
Her mouth had gone dry. Dammit. “It was okay.”
“Christie St. John, I swear to God…”
“Okay, fine, it was bloody fantastic. Satisfied?”
It had been fantastic. All weekend, the memory of it had kept her warm. The smell of him, the taste of his mouth, the feel of hard muscle under the material of his T-shirt. And the shock of sexual desire, hot and hungry inside her. She’d never been kissed like that before, not with such blatant demand. Greg had always been tentative, as if asking her permission. Not Joseph. He’d taken that kiss whether she’d wanted to give it to him or not.
But she’d wanted to. Drowning in it, she’d given him that and more. She’d given him everything.
Marisa grinned like a loon. “Woohoo, girl! When you go to town, you really go to town. So, are you going to see him again?”
Ah. Yes. The minor matter of her bolting out the door within seconds of coming apart in his arms. That.
Suddenly there seemed to be a lot of work she needed to do. “No. Would you mind, Mar? I’ve got to do this—”
“You’re not?” Marisa pounced on the crucial part of her sentence. “Why not?”
Christie gave her a glance and tapped importantly on her mouse. “Work. I have it. You