Vicki Lewis Thompson - Every Woman's Fantasy

“From what I can see. Of course I’m picturing this rash, and that’s not exactly a turn-on, if you get my drift.”

Mark was working hard not to laugh. He thought this whole thing was hilarious, and he hoped someday Sam would enjoy the joke as much as Mark did right now. “Maybe she’s got the rash situation under control,” he said. “Maybe she’s very attracted to you, and yet she’s not breaking out. If that’s the case, you would want to continue to help her along with her recovery, wouldn’t you?”

Sam rubbed his chin. “You’re up to something, O’Grady. I figure it’s based on fixing me up with Ashley so you can sneak off with Charlie and do the nasty.”

“Not the nasty.” Mark held up both hands when Sam lifted his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe a word. “Really. I’m not going to do the nasty. But I’d like to kiss her, at least, which could be difficult if you and Ashley are watching us every damned minute. I wouldn’t mind having the two of you talk among yourselves sometime during the evening.”

“You plan to start making out with Charlie right here at the table?”

“Of course not! I thought later we might go dancing.”

“Dancing? With her in that dress? Or sort of in that dress? I don’t think so, Mark, old boy. You would—”

“Whoops, here they come. Now if you want to know if Ashley’s attracted to you or not, look at her lipstick. If she globbed some more on while she was in the bathroom, then that means she wants you.”

“You’ve said that before when we were out with women, and I think you’re making it up. Women put on lipstick for no reason. They put on lipstick to go to the grocery store, for crying out loud. I never understood that.”

“Because they might meet a hot prospect at the grocery store, that’s why,” Mark said. “Lipstick is part of that whole mating thing. Remember, we saw that on the Discovery Channel. Look at the lipstick.”

“How do I know if she put it on for me? Maybe she wants the waiter really bad. Or the maître d’, although personally I think he’s a little old for—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Sam. I swear you’d make a sow’s ear out of a silk purse.” Then he got out of his chair so he could help his fabulous Lady in Red into her seat. And his vow not to look at her cleavage didn’t last even for a second. But he rationalized that she’d worn the dress on purpose to make him notice, so if he didn’t, she’d be disappointed.

He didn’t want to disappoint this woman. Not ever. And that was why he would be a good boy tonight and just enjoy the view from a distance.

“Did you get whatever it was out of your eye?” Sam asked Ashley, peering intently at her face.

Mark looked, too, and saw the fresh shine of new lipstick. Way to go, Ashley. Then he glanced over at Charlie and was gratified to see that she’d added more of that tomato-red color to her mouth. He’d ten times rather spend the next hour kissing that plump little mouth than eating pasta.

“My eye’s fine,” Ashley said. “Probably an eyelash or something.”

“I can see how that would happen. Your eyelashes are pretty long,” Sam said.

Good, Mark thought. Sam liked long eyelashes. Charlie’s eyelashes were long, too, and she had mascara on them. Blondes usually used the stuff, he knew, because without mascara their eyelashes didn’t stand out so much.

He’d like to see Charlie without her mascara, though. No doubt she’d look perfectly fine. He’d like to see her without her clothes, too. She’d look more than perfectly fine without her clothes.

But he wouldn’t be doing that this weekend. No sir. So he’d content himself with simply sitting and watching Charlie. Somehow he managed to order his meal and make a wine decision, but he couldn’t remember his choices thirty seconds after he’d made them.

Charlie totally absorbed his attention. He made small talk. So did she. But the conversation was unimportant. All that mattered was being here together, his knee touching hers, his hand resting on the tablecloth where he could accidentally brush her little finger with his.

Now she was picking up her water goblet. Now she was putting it up to those red lips. Now she was taking a sip. Now she was giving him that coy look that made his pulse hammer. He was vaguely aware that Ashley and Sam were talking to each other, but he wasn’t aware of anything they said.

Charlie-watching was becoming his favorite activity. The only problem was that the more he watched, the more aroused he became. Well, too bad. Tonight he would be strong. For her sake.

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