Jennifer Crusie Bundle

  Charlie shook his head. “Everybody at the station thinks he’s God? They must be morons.”

  “Not all of them. Just me.”

  Charlie frowned at her. “If you’re going to feel sorry for yourself, get off my couch and go to your room.”

  Allie relaxed back into the couch. “You know, I’m a very good producer. I just can’t handle my personal life.”

  Charlie snorted. “You and about twenty million other people.”

  She rolled her head sideways to look at him. “How do you do it?”

  Charlie grinned at her. “Not very well. I have this commitment problem.”

  “You and about twenty million other guys.” Allie grinned back. “Big deal. I bet once it’s over for you, it’s over. I bet you don’t go on obsessing about it afterward.”

  “No. But then I’ve never loved anyone enough to obsess about it.”

  “Well, that’s just my point.” She sat up again. “I’m not sure I loved Mark. I didn’t even like Mark much toward the end, which may be one of the reasons he dumped me. But I was used to being with him, working on the show, you know? I’m just…stuck in this stupid rut, and I need something to bounce me out of it.”

  Charlie looked confused but not condemning. “So, your plan was that we’d sleep together, and then what?”

  “Then I’d be over Mark, and we’d go to work.”

  “A short-term arrangement.” He sounded noncommittal, which wasn’t encouraging.

  Allie tried to get back to selling the idea. “Absolutely. A one-night stand. No strings. The last thing in the world I need right now is another relationship.” The thought of trying to keep another man happy made her tired all by itself. “I’m just sick of feeling like I’m going to throw up every time I see Mark.”

  “You and about twenty million other people.”

  Allie laughed. “No, really.” She tried to be serious. “He’s a nice guy. Lots of people like him. His show is very popular. And he takes a nice publicity picture.”

  “Oh, that’s important in radio.”

  Allie turned to look at him when she heard the scorn in his voice. “Oh? And what do you do in radio?”

  Charlie tensed for a moment and then relaxed deeper into the couch. “Well, there used to be a really late show in Lawrenceville from two to six. After Two with Ten Tenniel.” He grinned down at her and she grinned back because it was impossible not to. “Strange people call from two to six. I’m hoping the ten-to-two people are at least half as bizarre.”

  His voice was low but it kept his grin in it when he talked. That was one of things she liked best about him, although actually, there was a lot to like about Charlie. She leaned a little closer to him. “You like bizarre? Then you’re going to love WBBB.”

  “I love bizarre. That’s why I let you pick me up.” He looked down at her, and she could have sworn she saw heat in his eyes. But then, what did she know about men?

  Charlie stood up and pulled her off the couch. “Go to bed, Allie, so I can go to bed. You get the bathroom first.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll help you with Mark tomorrow, not by sleeping with you, but now I’ve got to get some real sleep.”

  Well, that was that. Allie walked back to her bedroom door. She should have known it wouldn’t work.

  Rats.

  Unless…

  CHARLIE WATCHED her walk toward her bedroom and tried to feel virtuous for turning her down. He did feel virtuous. He’d made a great sacrifice. There was nothing he wanted more than to be in Allie’s hands.

  In Allie’s bed.

  Oh, hell.

  Feeling virtuous was a lousy trade for what he was giving up.

  Allie stopped, and then turned back to him, a much too innocent look on her face. “How about a smaller favor?”

  “Smaller than sex?”

  “Yes.” She drifted back to him, and he felt wary again.

  “What?”

  Allie took off her glasses and lifted her chin. “Kiss me. So I can concentrate this time. I missed it the last time. In the bar.”

  Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. All his instincts told him to run, but she was standing there with that great mouth, and he wanted it. “You really are something. You treat all the guys you meet like this?”

  Allie shook her head, and he watched the light glint in her hair as it swung back and forth. “Nope. You just happened to hit me on a very unusual day.”

  “Lucky me.” Charlie swallowed and surrendered. “Okay, pucker up, but this time, pay attention. I don’t want to have to keep on doing this.”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  Allie lifted her face to his, and he bent and kissed her. He meant to make it brief, but the softness of her mouth moved against his and took his breath away. I’m in big trouble here, he thought, and then he stopped thinking.

  He felt her hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes. She was intoxicating, and he opened his mouth and teased her lips with his tongue until she opened to him and he could taste her. Her body moved against him, and he held her close, moving his hands up to her shoulders and then back down to the small of her back, pressing her hips close to his, soft against him.

  When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless.

  “Thank you,” Allie said unsteadily as she stepped back. “That was very nice. Good night.” She backed away into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Charlie sat down on the couch and tried to remember where he was.

  He was not going to get involved with Allie. He had a job to worry about. He was going to lay low. He was going to not make waves. He was going to do his job and get out. He was going to forget Allie and get some sleep.

  He unbuttoned his shirt and went to find his bag. He didn’t have pajamas, but with Allie flitting about making suggestions, he had to wear something. He found his sweatpants just as Allie came out of the bathroom in a long blue cotton nightgown. She looked very virginal.

  “Here are your sheets and things,” she said, putting them on the end of the couch. “Do you need anything else?”

  Charlie clamped down on his wayward thoughts. “No. Thank you.”

  “Good night.” She hesitated, and then she went into her room.

  He took his sweatpants and his toothbrush into the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he told himself. He got ready for bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie, and then he went out to the couch and made his bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie, and then he got into his bed, concentrating on not thinking about Allie.

  It wasn’t working.

  ALLIE LAY in bed and thought about Charlie.

  God, he was beautiful, standing there in the living room with his shirt unbuttoned. She’d never been turned on just looking at a man before, but he was so broad and beautiful. And dangerous.

  If they were on TV instead of radio, she’d make him leave his shirt unbuttoned. Women would be clawing at the set.

  And then there was his mouth. Kissing like that should be illegal. Or at least licensed.

  She put her hands over her face and groaned. Sleeping with Charlie would not be penicillin. Sleeping with Charlie would be cocaine. Of all the stupid ideas she’d had in her life, this was the stupidest.

  Why didn’t she ever listen to Joe?

  She turned over onto her side, concentrating on not thinking about Charlie.

  God, he looked good. And he kissed better.

  She buried her head under the pillow and tried to think about her career.

  CHARLIE ROLLED OVER on the couch. Sleeping with Allie would be wrong. She was emotionally vulnerable right now. By tomorrow, she’d be relieved he hadn’t taken her up on her offer.

  Of course, by tomorrow, he’d be insane with frustration.

  It was that damn kiss. If she hadn’t asked for the kiss, he wouldn’t be thinking about how soft her mouth was, how soft she was all over…

  He rolled over again, trying to think about the anonymous letter and how he didn’t have a clue
about what a disc jockey did and how tomorrow night he’d have to do it, concentrating on everything and anything but Allie.

  She was probably asleep by now, anyway.

  It was thinking about her mouth that was the worst.

  ALLIE SAT UP in bed and put her arms around her knees.

  Not thinking about Charlie wasn’t working. She was breathless with not thinking about him. She wanted him. She physically itched for him. This wasn’t the gauzy need she’d always assumed women felt for the men they lusted after. This was unpleasant and uncomfortable and would require full body contact to satiate.

  And he’d already said no once.

  Suppose she just strolled out there.

  And then what? Took off her nightgown? Did the dance of the seven veils? That would never work. She was a lousy dancer. Production was her specialty, not seduction. Maybe if she made up some cue cards: “Yes, Allie, I’d love to sleep with you. Take off your clothes.”

  Right, that would work.

  Besides, he was probably already asleep.

  She put her head on her knees and moaned softly. She was never going to get to sleep.

  CHARLIE SAT UP and put his head in his hands. He was never going to get to sleep. He wanted her so much now, he throbbed with it. How the hell had this happened?

  What difference did it make?

  He threw off the covers and stood up.

  He’d just knock on her door. She was probably asleep. Then he’d go back to the couch and go to sleep.

  Right.

  He picked up his shaving kit and pulled out a strip of condoms, shoving them in the pocket of his sweats before he went to her door.

  He knocked softly. “Allie?”

  “Come in,” she said.

  She was sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees and her glossy brown hair tangled around her face. “I can’t sleep,” she said.

  “Me, neither.” He sat down beside her. “You and your one last kisses.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “Do you still want that one-night stand?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, and the heat flared in him.

  “Thank God.” He slid his arm around her. “Move over.”

  Three

  Charlie moved pretty fast for a big guy, shoving off his sweatpants and sliding her nightgown over her head while she drew a sharp breath at his touch. The heat flared in her when the shock of his skin touched hers, and he touched her everywhere. She clutched him to her, tipping her head back for his mouth as if the muscles in her neck had given way. His hands moved over her, stroking her back, her sides, sliding down to pull her close to the hardness of his hips, and all the while he tormented her mouth with his tongue. He was everywhere, and wherever he was, there was heat.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered against her mouth, and she clung to him and whispered back, “You.”

  He moved down her throat to the hollow between her neck and shoulder, making her squirm as he found the nerve there. He trailed more hot kisses down her shoulder until his mouth found her breast and she forgot who she was. He dallied there, sucking hard until she could feel the pull and tingle deep inside her. She moved against him convulsively, pressing him to her, and he moved his mouth to her other breast and made her moan again.

  Allie drowned in the heat; waves of it washed over her as Charlie moved against her. Then his mouth found hers again and he was kissing her hard, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he pulled her on top of him and pressed her head to his so that she couldn’t escape his kiss. She stretched against him, drunk with desire, and he rolled over so she was under him again and moved his hand between them, lower this time.

  His whisper tickled her ear and made her squirm. “You have a beautiful body, Allie. You were made for love.” He slid his hand between her legs and she gasped and arched up to meet him.

  “Don’t ever stop touching me,” she said thickly. Her skin prickled, and the pounding came stronger, in rhythm with his hand. “Don’t ever, ever stop.”

  But he did, rolling away from her to reach for something on the floor. She heard foil tearing.

  “Charlie?”

  She struggled to sit up and then his mouth was on hers again, his hands on her hips, his body against hers. He pulled her under him and then he was sliding into her, and she felt her entire body clench and throb as he rocked into her, felt herself drawn into the pounding in her blood, in his blood, the pounding everywhere.

  “Wait.” She felt herself lurch out of control. “Wait. I can’t…”

  “Let go,” he whispered in her ear. “Let go, Allie.”

  She clutched at him, and he stared down at her hotly, half in shadow, his eyes glittering as he thrust into her over and over again. Who is he? she thought. I don’t even know him. And he’s inside me.

  Then he moaned and his head dropped to her shoulder, and she felt his grasp tighten on her as he slumped over her. She held him to her, rocking him a little, feeling warm and tingly and shaken and relieved and disappointed.

  Charlie rolled off and pulled her close to him.

  “I lost you along the way,” he said, still breathless. “What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Allie settled against him, trying not to be annoyed. “That was incredible. You were wonderful.” For a moment, it was like being with Mark again, and she sighed in resignation. Men were obviously not her strong suit.

  Charlie held her until his breathing slowed, and then he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, moving his hand up to cup her breast again. “You were with me there,” he whispered. “I could feel it in you.”

  “I don’t know.” She tried to smile her usual supportive-lover smile at him, but she was distracted by his stroking thumb. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He bent and kissed her cheek softly. “What part threw you off?” He moved his mouth to her breast. “Was it this?” He ran his tongue over her, and her body tightened at his touch.

  “No.” She moved against his mouth, her annoyance fading considerably. “No. It wasn’t anything you did.”

  His hand moved down and stroked her gently. “This?”

  “No,” she breathed, and closed her eyes to concentrate on his touch.

  “Allie?” He kissed her until she clung to him, dizzy again.

  “I love it when you touch me.” She moved under his hand as he stroked her.

  “Good. I’ll do it often.” His fingers were stroking faster, and she found it hard to concentrate on his words. The pressure was everywhere, growing stronger, and she moved against the hard barrier of his body when she felt the itch start under her skin again.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered, one arm tight around her. “Let go. I’m holding you.”

  Allie clung to him, drunk with the pressure, aching for release. The whole world was his hand against her, and the prickle in her blood, and she buried her face against his chest as she felt the pressure wind tighter, and she knew she was was going to explode if he didn’t stop. Out of control.

  “Oh, God.” Allie tried to move away, but Charlie rolled and pinned her under him, thrusting his tongue in her ear, and she twisted at the shocking pleasure of it, crying out once as the pressure flared in her and her skin screamed, and then everything did explode, the heat arcing through her body as she gasped in his arms.

  Charlie held her so tightly she had trouble breathing, but she clutched him to her anyway.

  “Allie? Allie, love?”

  She buried her face against his chest and tried to stop gasping, but the waves still lapped gently inside her, like little aftershocks.

  “Allie?”

  She clung to him, trying to find her voice, any coherent thought. “Oh, God, Charlie.”

  He held her tighter. “I thought you’d gone mute on me.”

  Allie took a long shuddering breath and then another until sanity returned. The heat and the release settled into her bones like a narcotic. She stretched against him, all her muscles aching, he
r skin sliding warm against his. “Oh.” She drew another deep breath. “I may never talk again.”

  Charlie brushed her hair back from her face. “Can you sleep now?”

  “Only if you don’t touch me,” she said, and he laughed and pulled her close, and she curled into him, and then they both fell asleep.

  ALLIE WOKE UP when the sunlight flooded the room. She’d rolled away from Charlie in the night, but his hand was still on her waist, and she liked the weight and heat of it there. She lay very still and savored how good her body still felt, and only gradually did she become aware of Joe in the kitchen, banging pans.

  As flings went, this one had been a beauty. No guilt, no fear, no emotion at all, really, except pleasure. Bless Charlie. And now she was going to make him a star. Life had done a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn on her overnight. She couldn’t wait to get started again.

  She stirred a little and felt Charlie’s hand tighten on her waist in his sleep, and she moved her head on the pillow to look at him. His blond-brown hair was tousled and his eyelashes were like smudges on his cheeks, and he looked like a fallen angel.

  It really was too bad they weren’t doing TV.

  She eased a little closer, and his arm gathered her to him until his cheek brushed against her hair.

  “Morning,” he said without opening his eyes. “How do you feel?”

  Allie grinned against his chest. “Very smug, now that I know what all the shouting was about.”

  Charlie laughed softly. “You should know. You were the one doing the shouting.”

  Allie jerked her head back. “What?”

  He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. “You scream when you come.”

  “I do not.”

  “The hell you don’t.” He gathered her back to him and sighed happily. “But it takes a lot of the guesswork out of making love to you, so I’m not complaining.”

  Allie thought about pushing him away and decided against it. “Very funny.”

  There was another crash from the kitchen.

  Allie smiled again. “Joe’s making breakfast. Aren’t you hungry?”