“Me?” she squeaked. “No, but you should be.” She reminded herself of the prim librarian stereotype: so tightly laced she’d need a button hook to get herself unwound. Which she wasn’t. Even if she was performing an awesome imitation of one.
Her mind took a wander to his drawer full of women, just waiting to be plucked out of their hiding place. Did they elbow each other when he opened that drawer? “Pick me, Gage, pick me!” Had any of them come from letters like these?
“By ‘other stuff,’” she repeated, “you mean …”
He casually planted a hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk, his rigid arm so close its warmth teased her shoulder. She tried to round up her gallivanting thoughts, tried not to picture Gage’s broad back underneath his tight T-shirt. She was a back-and-shoulders girl, and Gage’s were an outstanding example, all defined muscle under smooth skin. The sight had been on a loop inside her head since last July and hadn’t gotten old. But she was also a strong-rough-hands kinda girl, and the recollection of his on her body played on a separate loop. She averted her gaze from the hand currently gripping the edge of the desk.
His dark eyebrows peaked over very amused, crystal-clear eyes tinged in different shades of the Caribbean Sea. “Sexual intercourse. Yes. That’s what I meant. Like what you and I—”
She craned her neck to put some distance between them. “What she’s describing, Professor, isn’t straightforward, missionary-style, vanilla sex.”
Now his eyebrows kissed his hairline. “As I recall, neither was what we engaged in. Well, at least not one time. And there was plenty of”—he bent over, peering at the letter as though reading—“licking and sucking that night too. On both our parts. You were pretty enthusiastic and plainly weren’t offended since you yourself suggested a few of those other-flavored positions.”
A hot flush surged over every square inch of her skin. “I didn’t suggest anything!”
Still bracketing her in the office chair, he darted his eyes to the ceiling. “Well, maybe not verbally. Nonverbally, you were very clear. And it was”—his voice took on that gravelly quality—“incredibly. Insanely. Hot.”
Heat engulfed her face. She’d need a fire extinguisher any minute now. He was obviously getting a big kick out of this. “I don’t remember being … assertive,” she muttered.
“Trust me, you were. I have excellent recall.” He leaned down closer, his mouth inches from her ear, his warm, moist breath a soft caress. “In fact, I recall it all the time. And I haven’t forgotten a single detail,” he whispered, sending shivers up her spine. Her body betrayed her with a telltale shudder.
Upright again, he shot her a devilish grin. This was a different side of his personality, and, God, it was turning her body into an incendiary device. Forget the fire extinguisher. She needed to dunk herself in one of the team’s ice baths.
What did it say about her that Cocky Gage, combined with Sexy Gage, got all her pistons firing at top-fuel-dragster speed? Did top-fuel dragsters have pistons? Who cares?
With a tap of his finger on the letter, he grew more serious. “These we ignore. File them away, but don’t acknowledge.”
Her brain came back on board. So did her snark. “In other words, I don’t send them the autographed eight-by-ten glossy of you posing naked with a strategically placed helmet that says, ‘Eat me’ on it?” Don’t picture it, Lil, just don’t!
With a laugh that seemed to rumble through his chest, he pivoted and headed for the door, where he stopped, turned, and smirked. “It’s nice to hear you say it takes something as big as a helmet to cover my junk. Apple?”
Her head on spin cycle, she repeated his question. “Apple?”
“Okay. I’ll bring you one too. Be right back.” With a wink and a waggle, he was gone.
Oh my God!
Lily dropped her head on her arms and broke into an unstoppable giggle fest. This man is going to be the death of me! The thought occurred to her that there were worse ways to go.
When Lily had first screeched, Gage had expected to find a mouse or a spider or something sinister crawling on her. Instead, she’d shaken another pervy letter at him. The letters were ridiculous and normally got tossed as soon as they were opened, but Lily’s shock was turning it into a game that had him in stitches. Her reaction was adorable. She was adorable. And sexy all at the same time, which, he was discovering, was a lethal combination.
He took a moment, or five, to rearrange himself before grabbing two apples from a bowl on his kitchen counter. Sauntering back to the office, he tossed one at her, which she caught and promptly placed on the desk.
“Let’s read another one,” he goaded. Game on, Lily Everett.
She gaped at him.
God, this was fun. He shuffled through a box designated the so-called crazies stack and plucked out a letter with a picture of a half-naked woman attached. He pretended to inspect the picture. “Not bad.” For effect, he then lifted the letter to his nose. “Mmm. Interesting, like ‘Perfume de Panties.’” He handed Lily the letter without looking at her—he’d bust a gut if he did—and tossed his apple in the air and pointed. “Read that one, Goldilocks.”
Pinching the letter by its corners, she scanned the contents, her pretty blue eyes getting rounder by the second. He held back a slew of snickers.
“This woman not only describes what she’d like to do to you
