Ellora’s Cave Quickies
“Ha! You couldn’t seduce a woman if you had a color diagram,” Lucy Covington scoffed, pushing her glasses up her nose with a well-aimed poke. “I’ve seen you with every date since the eighth grade dance. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
“Oh really?” Charlie Blackwell answered.
He cocked his brow in a way that made women everywhere fall over themselves to get him in bed. But it didn’t count. Not really. At least Lucy didn’t think it counted if Charlie the charmer just had to look at them, the way he was looking at her actually, and they caved.
“Yes, really. You think a look and a killer smile will gloss over anything. When it comes to actual game play, you suck.”
“I do suck. I suck very well,” he murmured moving closer, caging her in.
Well, shit.
Charlie was gorgeous. Lucy wasn’t. Where he was the sexy, confident, athletic male who could grace the cover of a magazine, Lucy resembled a librarian’s little sister. She’d grandfathered in as his friend because she’d known him since forever, since before the biases of youth and early adulthood. They’d made it out the other side still friends.
She knew a lot about him. Not the least of which, Charlie making an effort to attract someone was dangerous. She’d gone down this line of discussion for a reason and that reason was closing in on her, slowly, deliberately and with the air of a satisfied cat about to lap up a bowl full of rich cream. Her pussy melted.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
She’d been in love with her best friend since—God, since puberty. Deciding to do something about it, challenge him, had been a stroke of genius. Which she now decided was the total opposite of genius. Because he’d win. And Charlie wasn’t a gracious winner. He’d never let her live it down.
Lucy backed away the closer he got. She figured it was ruining her point—the one about him not knowing how to seduce a woman—but the predatory stalking unnerved her. He pursued, his smile growing by the second. When he’d backed her against the kitchen wall and planted his hand beside her head, she knew she looked ridiculous.
“So explain it to me, Luce.”
She licked her lips and lifted her chin defiantly. “You depend too much on your charm.”
“Charm and seduction go hand in hand.”
“I mean, you charm a woman and once she says yes, you lose interest. You think the seduction is over, but it isn’t.”
“And you, with your myriad dates, are going to correct me?”
She sighed with exasperation. Of course she didn’t have the same dating experience as he did. Look at her. She was uptight and fully buttoned, he was laid back summer afternoons and sun-warmed skin. “You think you’ll win this argument.”
Charlie hooked his finger on the bridge of her glasses and drew them down. “Won’t I?”
She swatted his hand. “No. Because, Charlie Blackwell, I don’t fall for your shit. You know it and I know it.”
“I sense a challenge coming on.”
She had hoped he would, back when challenging him had seemed like a good idea. If he knew she deliberately led him this direction, he’d have lost interest and moved on with a friendly chuckle. But when he thought it was his idea, the whole game changed.
Lucy narrowed her eyes, playing her part to naive perfection. She hoped. “Challenge?”
“Yeah. If you can handle it.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Try me.”
His gaze dropped to her lips. “Oh, I will, Lucy Covington, you can count on it.”
Lucy took a sharp breath, catching with it the citrus undertones of Charlie’s shampoo and pepperminty toothpaste. “What’s the challenge?”
He shrugged. “Sex. Whoever gives in first, loses.”
“What constitutes giving in?” Lucy choked out, fairly bravely she thought, considering her best friend had casually suggested that they go off and fuck like bunnies. He wasn’t supposed to want to sleep with her.
“Begging for more,” he said with a small smile.
