Summer in Napa (A St. Helena Vineyard Novel) (26 page)

She raised a brow, calling him on his avoidance, but let him have it. “Truth.”

He could’ve asked more about Jeff, but now the guy whom Marc had always admired and envied no longer felt so impressive. In fact, he no longer even factored into this equation.

Lexi had missed out on a lot growing up, and Marc wanted to lighten the moment, give her a taste of what high school was like when you weren’t tethered to a douche.

“What is your most embarrassing secret?”

“Oh God.” Her hands flew to her face. “I can’t lie.” She peeked at him through her fingers, pure horror latching itself onto her every expression. “Can I?”

“Sugar, I won’t know if you lie.”

“But I would.”

I know
, he thought. And that, right there, was why Marc was screwed when it came to Lexi. She was loyal and genuine and honest to a fault.

“Okay, you have to turn around, though.”

“What?”

She dropped her hands, her expression dead serious. “You have to turn around or at least close your eyes because I can’t say this with you looking at me.”

“This had better be good.”

“Oh, it will have you begging for mercy,” she murmured, her face the color of a good merlot.

He closed his eyes but made a big deal about it. He felt her hand fly past his face a few times, and it took everything he had not to smile or peek. He grabbed her hand midfly. “Get on with it before your buzz wears off and you chicken out.”

“I won’t chicken out, and I’m not buzzed.”

He opened one eye.

“Okay, maybe just a little buzzed.” He closed it. “Remember how senior year you took Kimberly Baudouin to homecoming? And she wore that dress with the slit up to her thong line? And remember how Jeffery and I had a big fight because I danced one slow dance with Martin Liscouski, who I only danced with because we were friends and because his date was making out with some guy from another school?”

“Yeah.” Marc was starting to lose hope that this was going to be juicy. “Homecoming. Thong. Liscouski. Got it. Now get to the good stuff.”

“Well, after homecoming, we all went to your house because Gabe was gone on some trip.” And his parents had passed away the year before, which meant his house was the designated after-party. “Jeffery was mad about the dance and then because I didn’t want to sleep with him. So he called
me a tease in front of Natasha and Isabel Stark and their whole group.”

Marc opened his eyes. He couldn’t help it. First, because what kind of guy does that, and second, because that had been during their senior year. “You and Jeff hadn’t—”

She shook her head. “Not until a few weeks later.”
Which is why the prick said it
, he thought angrily. Being called a cock tease in high school was even worse than being crowned a good-time girl by Isabel and her clique.

Marc tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry he did that. I didn’t know.”

She shrugged, then made a little twirly gesture with her pointer finger. “Now turn around. You obviously can’t be trusted not to peek.”

He did. And the whole time he sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the shelves and listening to her shuffle around behind him, he wondered if that wasn’t her most embarrassing high school secret, then maybe he didn’t want to know what was.

“I was upset and didn’t want everyone to see me cry, so I went to find Abby, but she was making out with Chad.”

“Chad Spencer?” He was going to kick that guy’s ass.

“I know, gross, right? She was heartbroken over some other guy; it was nothing. Anyway, I heard someone coming up the stairs, so I ducked in your room.”

The idea of her in his room made him hard. “Did you lie on my bed?”

“Only one question, remember?” She gave him a reprimanding smack on the back of his head. “But yes, I did, until you came in with Kimberly. Then I ducked in the closet. Oh God, this is the embarrassing part. Don’t you dare turn around!”

He couldn’t move, much less turn around. He remembered that night. Knew exactly what she was going to say, and damn if his pants didn’t get that much more uncomfortable.

“So you and Kimberly started making out and”—he heard her swallow, and when she continued her voice was low and raspy—“I watched. The whole time. From your closet.”

The silence stretched so thick it took everything Marc had not to turn around and see if she was flushed. Because he was so turned on he was about to burst. Which was why he asked, “Did you like it?”

She was quiet for so long he was afraid she wouldn’t answer. Then he heard a slight rustling and a warm, gentle hand settled on his shoulder. He could feel her brush up against his back, which made all sorts of stupid things happen to his front.

“I’ll answer, but this will be your last question. I’ll still have two left, and I get to choose the last one for you. Deal?”

Truth or dare had never been this much of a turn-on when he was a kid. If it had been, he would have spent all of high school playing it instead of drinking with his buddies. Giving control over to her raised the stakes, taking it from a turn-on to erotic as hell, and they weren’t even naked. “Deal.”

“Yes. I couldn’t look away. Now it’s my turn,” she whispered, her breath teasing his ear. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he said, because he wanted her to ask him about that night.

“That first time you took me to the Napa Grand, when we broke in that day, you leaned in to kiss me, and then stopped. Why?”

“Because the day before, Jeff told me that he was going to ask you out.” Marc had been considering the same thing,
but his friend seemed so spun over Lexi he backed off. And had regretted it ever since. “And I didn’t kiss you on graduation night and every other time I saw you because he was my friend. And no matter how many times you broke up, you always got back together. And no matter what happened, no matter how much I wanted you, you’d always be my best friend’s girl.”

“Oh.” He heard her swallow. “Okay, since I know how you love risks, you are going bold on the last one. You choose dare.”

“I do?” he groaned.

“Oh, you do.” Her hands cupped his shoulders and slid forward until her fingers interlaced at his collarbone and her breasts were pressed against his back. “I dare you to finish what you started the other night at the town hall.”

“Lexi,” he groaned, closing his eyes.

“You promised me a lesson in kissing that was supposed to take me to second base, but I distinctly remember being interrupted before we rounded first.”

He rested his hands on top of hers. Denying her this was going to be the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew if he touched her he wouldn’t be able to stop. Ridiculous as it might sound, kissing her in front of everyone didn’t seem like the betrayal that kissing her like this would be. He didn’t want to be that guy.

“Lexi, we can’t.”

She scooted around until she was kneeling in front of him, her legs tucked up under her dress and her face inches from his. “It’s a dare. You have to.”

“I’m not going to betray a lifelong friendship on a dare.”

He saw the hurt flash in her eyes. “You already kissed me.”

“I know.” That was the problem. When he was with her, everything felt so right. But being with her challenged everything he’d based his relationships on. All because when he was fourteen, his buddy had called shotgun first. How fucked up was that?

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Jeffery is your best friend. He was my first love. We dated, married, and he left me for another woman. This wouldn’t be a betrayal. I’m ready to move on. And I have a divorce decree and a pair of red silk panties that trumps man law.”

“Does the bra match?” he asked, feeling a boyish grin kicking up the side of his lips, as though her answer could change his entire world.

“Yes. But I agree kissing because of a dare is stupid. If you kiss me, kiss me because you want to.”

“Oh, I want—” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Because if he didn’t, he would tell Lexi that it wasn’t the betrayal of Jeff he was worried about. It was the thought of betraying her.

The kiss started out gentle, sweet. It was the kind of kiss he’d imagined giving to her when they were teenagers. The kind of kiss that a woman like Lexi deserved. Slow and thorough, with enough heat to let her feel how special she was, how much he wanted her—how much he’d always wanted her.

He pulled back slightly and trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear, lingering for a moment and paying special attention to the little soft spot behind it, loving how her breath caught and she arched her back slightly. Brushing his mouth over her earlobe, he gave a sharp little bite to its curve before making his way back to her mouth. And Christ, that mouth of hers was addictive.

“Only second base, Lexi,” he said, more for himself than her. If he ventured past simple touching, they would wind up having sex. All damn night. On the cold pantry floor.

“Okay,” she breathed, but when she looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes dazed with hunger, Marc knew this was a bad move.

To prove it, he kissed her again. Only this time he didn’t take it slow. He couldn’t. He was too busy reaching for the zipper on her dress, her hands were busy clawing at his chest, and before he knew what was happening, she was straddling him. Her zipper was stuck, his shirt was on the floor, and they were about to get busy. Down and dirty.

She tilted her head to the side and the kiss deepened, taking the moment from high school necking to unadulterated foreplay. Her hands sank into his hair, his sank into her ass, and he molded his palms around the perfect globes and pulled her tightly against his erection.

She purred into his mouth and slid her tongue against his in a way that asked for a whole hell of a lot more than second base. Wrapping her legs securely around his waist, their bare skin heating at the contact, she squeezed, rolling her hips forward to bring all of her good parts in seriously hard contact with his. As if her grinding against his body wasn’t temptation enough, Lexi had to go and arch her back, thrusting those perfect tens of hers right in range, with their nipples jutting prettily under the soft cotton of her dress.

“Damn,” he whispered, his eyes riveted to her breasts. He ran his hands up her sides, rib by rib, his heart slamming against his chest with every inch gained, until he stopped just below what he’d been fantasizing about for fifteen years. And holy hell, he wanted to see her naked.

When Marc had discovered boobs, he’d had one goal: to touch as many as possible. But once he’d seen Lexi in that little white bikini she used to prance around in during summer break, all he’d cared about was touching hers. They had become an obsession.

Apparently an obsession he’d never outgrown.

His breathing nonexistent, he teased his thumbs higher up the dress, over the hard nipples, and he damn near embarrassed himself. God, he was acting like he’d never been with a woman before. His hands were shaking, his forehead was sweaty, and he was so hard that one more of her cute little hip rolls and he’d go off like a cannon.

“Just second base,” he repeated, running his fingertip along the edge of her dress, tracing the gentle swell of her cleavage, savoring how soft she felt.

She moved restlessly against him, rocking her hips and letting out a little moan at the contact. She was hot and ready. He could feel her body coiling tighter by the second.

“Just a minute. I just need a minute,” he whispered.

She said nothing, just moved closer, pushing her breasts into his palms. He felt her nipples scrape against his flesh and changed his mind. Touching them wasn’t going to be enough. He had to taste her.

“Just a little taste,” he mumbled to himself.

Gripping her waist, he dipped his head. Starting at the hollow of her throat, he worked his way down, pressing openmouthed kisses against her heated skin, over the trim of her dress, and pulling her into his mouth and sucking her though the cotton.

“You said second base,” she reminded him.

“This is second.” He pulled her breast deeper into his mouth.

“Second involves hands,” she whispered, resting her palms on his knees and dropping her head back. The movement caused her hair to spill over her shoulder and onto his arm that supported her lower back.

“You’re right. Hands.”

His mouth never let up as he lowered his palm to her knee, slowly working the hem of her dress up her smooth legs, over her thigh and under her panties so he could cup her bare ass. And what an ass it was. Soft and firm and a perfect handful.

She gave a low, sexy gasp. “What are you doing?”

“Using my hands.” His fingers worked their way around the front. He slid a single finger up the center of her silk panties. He made another pass, this time using his entire hand. “Just a little. Okay?”

She nodded, relaxing her legs to give him more room and whispering, “Just a little,” before pressing down on his hand.

He wanted to explore, take his time. If second base with an attempt at stealing third was all he was going to allow himself, then he wanted this to last. His hand went under the panties, and Marc followed the curve of her amazing ass down and around, then slipped in from behind.

She moaned something that sounded like “Oh God, yes,” with her eyes wide and so full of want that his whole body went into overdrive. “Just a little,” she repeated. “Right”—she rose up and then sank back down, impaling herself on his hand—“there.”

“You are so wet, sugar.”

“I have been ever since I saw you watching me from your office,” she admitted.

He wondered exactly which time she was referring to.

“Then it seems I have been slacking on my boyfriend duties.” He slowly withdrew his finger, sliding two in its place. “I say we fix that, immediately.”

She gasped. “Fake boyfriend duties.”

“Oh no, sugar.” He stroked ever so slowly, bringing her as close to the edge as he could get without going over. “We do this and there won’t be faking of any kind.”

He waited until she nodded, then picked up the pace, applying more friction and gently building the pressure. He wanted her to enjoy this, to make it last. But she wasn’t making it easy. Her mouth was on his, hungry and raw, as her body vibrated with need. She was so primed all he had to do was curl his fingers, just like so and—