Joanne Rock - Revealed

Right now, the only noise she heard was Greg’s silky baritone and the soft hum of the streetlights.

She shrugged. “I like the piano.”

“Let me guess, you prefer the piccolo. Or maybe a big set of cymbals.” Greg stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted one shoulder into a nearby streetlamp.

“As it happens, I love a good pair of cymbals. And I can play a mean kazoo.”

“Do you always take the road less traveled, Jackie Brady?” He studied her with the aid of the streetlight, his brown eyes probing hers for answers she wasn’t ready to give.

“What does it look like?” She twitched her whiskers by scrunching up her nose and maneuvering her lips.

“It looks like you’re hell-bent for mayhem, lady.” He lifted himself away from the lamppost and walked closer to her. Slowly. Steadily.

Her heart picked up a jaunty beat, drumming heat through her in an insistent rhythm.

Jackie was ready. Willing. Hungry for a taste of Greg.

What did it matter if he could play piano? If he lived in corporate paradise and liked to stick to the rules? Jackie could still kiss him.

She could still see where a kiss led.

She could still fantasize about losing her virginity to a man who could unlock her passionate nature and free the artist inside her.

He paused a foot in front of her, his square shoulders and tanned arms making her insides turn warm and liquid.

She was probably supposed to wait for him to kiss her, but Jackie had never been one to play by the rules.

Especially not when a risk this tempting was so close at hand.

GREG HAD EVERY INTENTION of kissing her.

He’d been dying to taste those lips ever since she’d strutted through Flanagan’s in whiskers and cat ears.

He just hadn’t planned on doing it so fast.

Just when he’d been sizing up the situation, taking in the details of her curves and nuances so he could wring out every possible bit of pleasure from it for both of them, Jackie dropped her tablecloth. Before he could fully appreciate the view of her braless body underneath his shirt, she plastered herself against him for the most mind-blowing kiss he’d ever experienced.

She was like a sensory explosion, swamping every inch of him with tantalizing sensations. Her lips swayed over his in slow undulations, leaving him no choice but to seek entrance to her mouth for a more thorough taste.

Sweet and complex. Jackie tasted like a dessert wine and left him hungering for more.

But all the while he tried to drink in her taste, she was tormenting his chest with the soft nudge of her breasts. No elaborate contraptions of Lycra or spandex hid her from him, only the cotton of their shirts. Taut crests peaked against him, reminding him of what she looked like naked. He could envision those breasts, those upturned nipples, perfectly.

And the memory was killing him.

“Jackie.” He pulled away in slow degrees only because he had to. They were in the middle of the sidewalk for crying out loud. “Jackie?”

He kissed her one last time, or so he told himself it would be one last time, before backing up a step, still holding her hands. He wanted to go upstairs with her and unveil her body at his leisure, not maul her in full view of her neighbors.

He hadn’t counted on seeing her eyes still closed, her lips still thrust forward even after his retreat.

Something inside him turned to mush at the sight. He hoped like hell it was only his brain.

“Jackie?” He squeezed her fingers in his hands.

She smiled before she opened her eyes. “Hmm?”

The sound of a window opening somewhere in the building behind them reminded Greg of their public surroundings.

Greg stepped close again, more than willing to continue this inside her apartment even if they were as compatible as oil and water. They obviously had serious chemistry going despite being as different from one another as night and day.

He always did have a hard time learning a lesson.

He could take one more chance on a woman without getting overly distracted, right? He’d go to work in the morning, listen to his desk full of demo tapes, and crawl back into bed with Jackie. A relationship didn’t have to interfere with his work, damn it.

“Do you mind if I come inside?” It didn’t seem like that big of an assumption in light of the kiss she’d just given him.

“What?” Her green eyes sharpened into focus immediately.

“I mean, do you want me to come upstairs with you?”

Greg was surprised to realize he was practically holding his breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this bad. Had he ever wanted a woman this much?

“Maybe we’d better not.” The flash of innocence in her eyes as she declined sent warning bells clanging in his head.

Greg ignored them.

Jackie released his fingers, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’d just shot him down harder than anyone else ever had.

She scooped her tablecloth off the sidewalk and wrapped it around her.

“But maybe we could see each other again?” she prompted, her throaty voice practically purring with feminine satisfaction.

She wanted to see him again.

His breath returned, clearing his head in time for him to form a response.

“How about next weekend?” He had to be careful not to ask her out for tomorrow. As much as he wanted Jackie, he could not afford to let any woman twist his life around and make him forget his priorities. Not now when he finally had the world by the tail.

Tail.

His eyes dropped to Jackie’s feline accoutrements, amazed how his every thought already twined with images of her.

“Sounds good.” She nodded, a small smile curling her perfect lips.

He couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but he thought maybe she blushed.

Digging in his wallet for his business cards, he thought maybe she was just an old-fashioned girl. He’d heard they still existed. Women who didn’t sleep with someone on the first date. Women who still blushed.

Greg definitely approved. He just hadn’t pegged outrageous cat woman Jackie as one of those women.

He scribbled down her number on the back of one card and gave her another one in case she needed to reach him.

Who knew? Maybe she’d change her mind midweek and decide she couldn’t wait for the weekend.

Fat chance.

Greg had the feeling he’d lucked into meeting a woman who would be well worth a little time away from the office. A woman who wasn’t into playing games—despite the fact that she favored painting her nose pink and strutting through town wearing cat’s ears.

“You’re okay from here then?” Greg asked, not wanting to lose gentlemanly points this late into their evening together.

“I’m okay from here.” She backed toward her front steps, smiling.

No repeat good-night kiss. Greg couldn’t help the surge of disappointment. He’d been hoping maybe there’d be one more kiss to seal the deal.

Still, he wanted to roar with satisfaction that there would be more kisses, and who knew what else, in store. He had the feeling he’d have a hard time concentrating on his demo tape review tomorrow after the way she’d just set his veins on fire. But he only had a week to go to see her again.

Until then, he planned to stock up on dessert wine.

FROM THE SAFETY OF HER building’s well-lit foyer, Jackie tracked Greg’s progress down her street until she couldn’t see him anymore.

She’d made a date with Mr. Corporate and she was feeling pretty damn giddy about it. The memory of his touch would taunt her until next weekend.

She looked down at the business card in her hands, scarcely daring to believe her good luck. Flipping it over, she read the words printed there.

Greg De Costa. General Manager.