Double Exposure

“It’s actually criminal. I wonder if they have any chance at all of catching them. Presumably it’s the same woman who caused trouble at the other shoots, but it’s not like there are security cameras anywhere around here anymore. This steel plant is a ghost town.” Kyle picked his way carefully across the old parking lot, watching where he walked. “Careful, there are all kinds of glass and gravel lying around.” He looked at Emma’s bare feet. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“You’re barefoot, too,” she pointed out. “And you don’t need me crushing you deeper into the pavement.”

“My feet are callused. I won’t feel it. But yours look delicate.” They did. Emma had her toenails painted red, and her feet were smooth and unblemished. They were filthy from the warehouse, but he could tell she got frequent pedicures, and she was clearly no athlete. Emma screamed workaholic. Given the lushness of her curves, he liked to imagine her lounging around on a chaise pinup-girl style in her spare minutes, instead of attacking a ball in an adult soccer league. But what did he know? Maybe she made flag football her bitch on Saturdays.

“I don’t really think anything about me is particularly delicate,” she said. “But I do love a good pedicure.”

Kyle imagined her soft foot sliding down his leg. Bending down, he cleared his throat and presented his back to her.

“Hop on.” Now that the image of her lounging on a sofa in her garter belt had popped into his head, Kyle really wanted her to lounge on him.

“I’m only wearing underwear, Kyle. There is no way I’m hopping on your back. Come Monday, we do have to work together in an office setting.”

As far as he was concerned, Monday didn’t exist. There was only today, and a parking lot full of broken glass. “We’re not in the office right now, and you seriously should not be walking in this.” He sincerely did not want her to get hurt, but he had to admit, he also wouldn’t mind her legs wrapped around his waist.

“It’s fine.” She indignantly took a step forward and immediately winced. “Ow. Damn it, I just stepped on a rusty nail.” Using his arm for leverage, she leaned down and inspected her foot. “Good thing I’ve had a tetanus shot. Gross.”

Kyle fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I offered you a solution.” He couldn’t help but point that out again.

She made a face at him. “These are my choices? Step on a rusty nail or wrap my painted legs around you while I’m topless?”

Kyle grinned. “Doesn’t sound like a hard choice to me.”

Emma flushed. “You know what I mean. I’m no Skinny Minnie, by the way. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

He couldn’t prevent himself from glancing at her breasts again. She had all the right stuff in all the right places, as far as he was concerned. “I think you’re perfect. And don’t insult my manhood. I can carry a woman.”

“I think we’ve discussed your manhood enough already today.” Emma glanced around at the other people who were picking their way across the parking lot. No one was paying the slightest bit of attention to the two of them, despite their lack of street clothes. “Okay, fine. But we’re never going to mention this again. Ever. I don’t want to hear any cracks about it today or any day hereafter. Got it?”

“Got it.” Later, he would wonder why the thought of her hopping onto his back had him so excited. Right now he just wanted to enjoy it. “Well, if a piggyback ride makes you uncomfortable, I’ll just pick you up.”

He did just that, before Emma could change her mind. Leaning over, he scooped her up into his arms while she gave a squeal of shock.

“Kyle!”

“Yes?” Oh, man, he was in heaven. Or maybe he was in hell. Because the feeling of Emma in his arms was so amazing and yet, he wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it. Or was he? Emma seemed to be warming up to him. Maybe with a little more effort, and the right circumstances, he could find himself feeling more of the delicious curves he’d been treated to all day. He bounced her a little to adjust her in his arms, her skin against his, her breasts perilously close to his own chest, her hands reaching up automatically to entwine around his neck to stabilize herself.

“Nothing,” she said, eyes wide, green lips parted in an expression of shock.

Kyle gazed at her briefly, well aware of how enticing the curve of her backside was as it bumped against his waist. Her mouth was close enough to his that he could simply lean forward and kiss her. Would that fall under the same rules as him carrying her? If he kissed her, would she allow it as long as he didn’t mention it on Monday? Or would she yank away and end up crashing to the ground?

Better not chance it.

He made his way to the car without incident, though he couldn’t say he exactly enjoyed walking barefoot across ancient gravel. He was starting to feel like he was back in college. This whole scenario was remarkably similar to a frat party where he’d gone Jell-O diving with a date and had wound up handcuffed to a chain-link fence.

Hmm. He could hope for a better ending here.

Setting Emma down, he retrieved his keys and beeped open the passenger door.

“Thanks for driving me home,” she said as she climbed in.

“No problem. I probably have something you can, you know, cover up with.” Kyle looked in the backseat. Nothing but an old fast-food bag. The trunk revealed a tire iron and a length of rope. Uh, not quite what he had in mind. Finally, he came back around and bent over in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she squawked.

Not what he’d like to be doing, frankly.

“Maybe there is something in here.” After popping open the glove box, Kyle stood up triumphantly with a handful of paper napkins. “Aha!”

Her lips pursed and she looked like she was debating whether to laugh or cry. “Thanks.” Grabbing them from him, she unfurled one and stuck it over her left breast. The right got the same treatment.

Kyle suddenly wanted to laugh himself so he backed up and went around to the driver’s side.

“I’m sorry about your upholstery,” she said, trying to put the remaining napkins under her butt.

“Don’t worry about it. It couldn’t be helped.” Kyle was fascinated by the way she was lifting her backside up, her napkin-covered breasts jutting out.

“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly. “I can’t go back to my place! I don’t have my key!”

Oh, this day kept getting more and more interesting.

“No worries,” Kyle said. Really, it was like fate was handing him a Golden Ticket. With Emma forced into his company, surely she would see the merits of exploring the chemistry that had been sizzling between them all day. “You can come to my place.”

Where they would have a little green on green action if he had anything to say about it.

4

EMMA LOOKED OVER at Kyle, horrified. She had no house key. She didn’t keep a spare key outside her apartment because everyone knew that was the fastest way to get robbed. She had been on the police-blotter beat for six months and it had convinced her that a key under the welcome mat was a safety risk akin to jumping rope with a live power wire.

Her next-door neighbor, Mr. Stein, had her spare key, but he was eighty-six years old and there was no way in hell she could ring his doorbell like this, painted green, with fast-food napkins stuck to her boobs. The man would die of a heart attack and she could not have that on her conscience. The only choice she really had was to go with Kyle and borrow a T-shirt and some basketball shorts.

Lord help her.

Shifting on the seat, hoping she wasn’t smearing paint onto the upholstery, she bit her lip. “Can I take a shower at your place? This paint is actually starting to pull on my skin.” As it had dried, it had tightened, and she had to admit, she was about done with the whole thing.

Maybe once showered and clothed, she would be much less aware of Kyle and her own reaction to him. She crossed her legs tightly, wishing the deep ache between her thighs would ease up. Unfortunately, she suspected there was only one way to make it go away, and down that path lay disaster.

Or ecstasy.

Emma shook her head, irritated with herself. No. She could not. Would not. Ever. With Kyle. Not while they still worked together. She’d seen the results of fraternization between coworkers too often to be insane enough to fall into the same trap. There had been Jenny in Copy, who had slept with the head of Advertising after the holiday party and had been so embarrassed by her drunken enthusiasm that she’d quit. Bill and Stacey in their online department, who had been hot and heavy for two months, had broken up and wound up shooting staples at each other in their small shared office space. Dating, sex, love and relationships all made people emotional and irrational. It didn’t mix with work.

Though one could argue she and Kyle didn’t technically work together. They just overlapped in the same office space. Which was a lame rationalization and she knew it. It would be hard to sit in a meeting with ten people if one of them had seen you naked.

But Kyle had basically already seen her naked. She was almost naked right now.

Emma dug her fingernails into her emerald knees. Why did it seem like all her reasoning was evaporating into thin air and they hadn’t even gotten to Kyle’s yet?

She reminded herself that Claire would never be okay with an in-office affair between two staff writers. And if anyone would pay the price for it, it would most likely be her, since Claire was fond of Kyle. As in, Claire wanted to bang him herself, Emma was fairly certain.

“Sure, of course you can take a shower. And I’m sure I have something you can wear home.” Kyle pulled out of the parking lot. “Man, I’m starving. I want to go through the drive-thru, but that’s probably not a good idea.”

“No.” Emma shook her head vehemently. “Definitely not a good idea. They have cameras, you know.”

Kyle laughed. “That would really get people at McDonald’s talking, huh? Good thing we don’t have that far to go. I live downtown.”

It was a good thing, Emma realized, as they cruised to a stop at a red light. She glanced to her right and was met with the startled gaze of an older woman in the car next to them, her hands gripping the steering wheel. Before she opened her mouth to comment to Kyle that they were already getting people talking, the woman whipped out her cell phone and snapped a picture of Emma.

Horrified, Emma simultaneously slouched down in her seat and yelled at the woman. “Hey! You can’t do that! Delete that! Delete!”

Realizing the woman probably couldn’t hear her, she hit the button for the window to glide down and pointed, gesturing to the phone and making frantic throat-cutting motions in what she hoped was the universal language for “get rid of that shit.”

“What’s the matter?” Kyle asked.

“She took my picture!” Emma felt the heat of mortification flushing her green cheeks. The woman was resolutely looking in the other direction, clearly having no intention of deleting anything.

“No one will recognize you. And she couldn’t have gotten anything from the neck down.”

“Somebody could recognize me!” As the light turned green and Kyle started driving, Emma flipped the visor down and angled it so she could see herself in the mirror. What she saw had her gasping in horror. My God, it was worse than she’d thought. “I look...insane,” she said, feeling faint.

Her hair was shot out in all directions, the paint acting as a holding gel, her face the bright emerald green of the rest of her body, with the whites of her eyes and her teeth gleaming in stark contrast. The napkins tufted up from her chest. “I look like a frog eating barbecue!”

Kyle started laughing so hard he ended up coughing. After a second, Emma flipped the mirror shut and felt the corners of her mouth turning up. Maybe it was a little funny. Besides, his laughter was infectious. He laughed with zero restraint, deep from his gut. Emma couldn’t even remember the last time she had laughed like that.

“It’s not funny!” she protested, even as she started giggling. He was right. No one would ever recognize her. That was a definite positive.

“Oh, yes, it is,” he managed to say between chuckles. “I’ve never heard anyone describe themselves in quite that way, and the hilarious thing is, it’s true.”

“Oh, it is, is it?” Emma exclaimed, unable to deny the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thanks a lot!” She peeled one of the napkins off her breast, balled it up and threw it at him.

It bounced off his green chest. He just laughed harder, but he did give a token “ow.”

“Be quiet. There is no way that hurt.”

Kyle glanced at her and his eyes bugged out. With a finger he reached over and pointed, stopping a few inches short of touching her. “You left some napkin behind.”

Emma glanced down and couldn’t hold in a sharp burst of laughter. It just got better and better. Now she had a piece of napkin stuck to her nipple. “Are we there yet?” she asked, because really, what else was there to say?

Kyle grinned at her. “As a matter of fact, yes. We’re pulling into my building now.”

“Thank you, baby Jesus.” Before any other Sunday drivers decided to immortalize her on the internet.

Kyle lived in an old warehouse that had clearly been turned into chichi apartments. Normally Emma would have loved a leisurely stroll around the building to admire its brick-and-iron architecture, but today she just wanted to get behind a closed door without anyone else seeing her.

That was too much to ask for, though. Almost immediately when they stepped out of the car, they encountered a man who was potentially homeless, given his layers of crusty denim and flannel, despite the warm June day. He pushed a shopping cart. Emma figured her hair was on par with this guy’s, which was matted and uneven. Trying not to make eye contact, she crossed her arms over her chest and let Kyle usher her toward the door.

The shopping cart’s squeaky wheels quieted as the cart slowed down, the man probably gawking at the picture they made.

“Damn hippies,” they heard him grumble.

As the heavy fire door to the building closed behind them, Emma let out a laugh. “Oh, my God, he just called us hippies! What hippies do you know who look like this?”

“I don’t know any hippies.” Kyle shook his head. “I think they’re actually extinct. But you’re right, I can’t imagine they would look like alien extras from a B-budget film. Let’s take the stairs so we don’t run into anyone on the elevator. That could be awkward.”

“Very.” Emma shuddered at the thought, her breast napkin flapping as she walked.

Kyle’s apartment was on the second floor, so they were inside and free from any potential encounters in a matter of a few steps. Emma let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“What a day,” Kyle said, tossing his baseball hat onto the console table in the entry.

“No kidding.” Emma stood just inside the doorway, eyes sweeping quickly around the room, feeling hugely self-conscious again. For some reason, she had expected Kyle’s place to be a glorified dorm room. Messy, with mismatched furniture and beer cans lying around. It was nothing remotely resembling her vision.

Kyle’s place was neat as a pin, his granite kitchen counter bare of all clutter except for a coffeemaker. His couch was streamlined and modern, with one throw blanket on the arm, folded to perfection. The loft-style windows gave huge amounts of light to the space, and Emma glanced down, aware of her dirty feet on his pristine floors. There wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt anywhere, and she felt the need to walk with paper towels wrapped around her unfortunate feet.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. I like it. I can walk to work.” He moved into the room. “Bathroom’s this way. Come on, I’ll get you a towel.”

“Thanks.” Emma followed behind Kyle, her eyes focused on his tight butt and his firm thighs. He was very muscular, but not in a bodybuilder way. Just athletic. Natural. Her fingers itched to reach out and squeeze all that muscle in front of her. Not paying attention to anything other than his ass, Emma didn’t realize he had stopped walking until she plowed into him, her hands brushing across the back of his thighs.

“Oh! Sorry.” Emma jumped back a foot as she realized he had stopped to open a linen closet, and was pulling out towels.

Kyle turned, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m really good at keeping secrets, you know.”

Her heart rate kicked up a notch and her nipples firmed, goose bumps rushing over her skin. “Oh, yeah? I imagine that’s helpful in journalism. The whole Deep Throat thing.”

God, did she really just say deep throat to him? Emma felt her cheeks burn, but hoped the paint camouflaged her embarrassment.

Kyle shook his head. “Emma, you’re killing me. You know that, right?”

“No. I had no idea.” Which was a lie. She was very much aware of the sexual tension running between them. They were mostly naked, standing inches apart. She had accidentally touched his thighs and his mouth was close enough that with one short lean she could be kissing him.

“You are. And I most definitely can keep a secret, so if anything else happens here today, you can be sure it will never be mentioned at the office. Or ever, for that matter, if that’s what you want.”

“What could happen?” Because she was a girl who liked things to be spelled out. She knew what he meant, but she needed to hear confirmation that the man she’d been attracted to for quite some time was equally attracted to her, and was offering her an afternoon delight.

“This.” Kyle closed the gap between them, the towels he was holding crushing against her chest, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head.

Emma didn’t hesitate, but let her eyes flutter shut as his mouth covered hers in a deep, tantalizing kiss. Yowza. It was as perfect as she could have imagined. Kyle’s lips teased hers with just the right amount of pressure and finesse, his touch confident and smooth but not arrogant. There was something very soft and worshipful about his kiss, and she sighed as he pulled back.

Kyle had surprised her.

* * *

EMMA HAD SURPRISED HIM. For some reason, Kyle had expected Emma to kiss with precision and efficiency, like her office persona, or with a bold passion. He hadn’t anticipated she would be so vulnerable, so feminine, so sweet. She had kissed him back, but she had let him lead, and he found that immensely appealing. She tasted like...willingness.

“So you’re going to keep that a secret?” she asked, the tip of her tongue running along the bottom lip he had just tasted.

The message was loud and clear—Emma was ready to play. Kyle wouldn’t have guessed it of her. But then again, he hadn’t pictured they would wind up in his apartment in the state they were in. If their clothes hadn’t been stolen, he imagined he would have just gone home and showered solo. Whereas now he had a shot at showering with her.

Kyle gave a silent thanks to the thief.

“That’s just the beginning of what I intend to keep secret.”

Her eyes widened and her nose twitched. He had noticed she did that when she was nervous, or considering a response. He found it adorable. Not normally a word he used to describe women he wanted to take to bed, but in Emma’s case, it was very much true. She was stinking cute.

“Maybe this is why you’ve never flirted with me,” she said. “I can’t think of a single appropriate comeback.”

“I never flirted with you because I thought you would rip my balls off.” And because he’d thought she would shut him down so hard it would hurt. Hey, he could admit it. “And just say whatever you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that I want to see what you look like without the green. Naked.”

Yeah, baby. “Good, because I was thinking the same thing about you.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then took the towels to the bathroom. “You can shower first. Unless you want me to join you?” Hey, you never knew unless you asked.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” She snagged a towel from his hand and held it up in front of her before pulling the one remaining napkin off her chest and tossing it in his wastebasket.

Two steps forward, one step back. Kyle was willing to be patient. For the next ten minutes or so. Then he was going to get another kiss, plus a little more if he had anything to say about it. There was no real reason for him to go into the bathroom with her, but he did, under the guise of turning on the shower and showing her his extensive collection of body gels.

“Here’s a loofah thingie so you can scrub the paint off.”

Emma took it, but she was staring at his shower doubtfully. “This is going to make such a mess. God, I hope it doesn’t stain the marble. Who puts marble in a shower?”

“It won’t stain.” He hoped. But it wasn’t like they had much choice. They were green and that wasn’t going to change until they showered. He winked at her. “Have fun in there.”

There was something about the way she was looking at him, her lips parted, her breasts heaving behind the towel, her toes curling on his cork floor. If he wasn’t mistaken, she did not want him to leave, but she wasn’t going to say that. She was waiting. For him to do it. Be the one who crossed all those boundaries and said to hell with office relations.

Well, they weren’t in the office and he wanted to relate to her on a whole new level. If she wanted him to make the move, be the bad guy in a way, he was more than willing to do just that. Because at the moment all he cared about was getting inside a nice hot shower and then getting inside her.

So Kyle took back the loofah he had handed her. She gave it up easily, her breath a sharp intake of air as he moved in close to her, his hand going to the small of her back. This time when he kissed her, he deftly stroked his tongue in between her lips to mate with hers, a hot rush of lust flooding over him, encouraging him that this was definitely the right move to make. When he yanked the towel out of her hands and dropped it to the floor, she didn’t protest. She let him move his body in alongside hers, the first brush of her nipples against his bare chest causing him to groan.

“I want to feel your real skin,” he told her. “I want to taste you. Let me get in the shower with you.” He was dipping down into the back of her panties, getting a brief feel of her bare flesh where there was no paint, her smooth ass cheek a perfect fit for his hand. He tossed the loofah into the open shower door so he would have two hands to squeeze, to bump her body into his, to make her aware of his fully engorged erection.

Her soft moan indicated she was very much aware of it, as did the fact that she was kissing him deeper and with more urgency.

“Okay,” she murmured.

Kyle paused in kissing her, hands still on her back. “Really?” He hadn’t thought she would agree, but now that she had, he realized it was stupid to question it. Better to just hustle her into the shower.

Before she could respond or change her mind, Kyle stepped back a foot and stripped out of his briefs, tossing them toward the wastebasket.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”

At first he thought she was impressed with his stature, because hey, he was no gherkin. But then her lip started to twitch and he realized she was trying not to laugh.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“Your skin is just so white where there’s no paint...and then your erection...” She giggled, her hand indicating something jutting out.

It was a good thing he had a healthy ego or this very well could have damaged him for life. But Kyle had a sense of humor, and glancing down, there was no denying it was an interesting picture. “I imagine the back looks even more ridiculous. Turn around and pull down your panties and let me see your bare ass.”

“No!” She laughed and took a step backward. “There is no way. In fact, I’m getting in the shower like this.”

Which she did. Panties and all, the spray hitting her body, sending green rivulets immediately to the floor of the shower. She sighed in pleasure. “It feels amazing.”