Unwrapping Mr. Wright. Michele Dunaway
few moments she would know Jeff Wright more intimately than she’d ever known him. As the slow groove came on, Lauren began to dance.
He was having the most wonderful dream. The noises of the football game that he really couldn’t hear anyway had faded, replaced by a deep bluesy voice that he recognized but in his sleep couldn’t quite place. Something sweet had reached his seeking nostrils. Roses? Jasmine? Musk? Whatever perfume had permeated his brain brought his body to slow attention.
The cat was gone. Instead, something silky skimmed his chest. Black and white contrasted in the darkness. Oh, my. A garter-covered a thigh.
He hadn’t had a dream like this in a long, long while. He shifted, letting the seductive moment of the dream envelop him. A beautiful woman danced for him. Not a professional, either—he’d seen those a few times at bachelor parties—but an amateur. Meaning, much better motivations. Much better movements when they weren’t rehearsed. Much more…intriguing. Oh.
As she gyrated her hips and lowered herself toward the floor in a movement bordering on erotic, he groaned. Oh, yes. Whoever his fantasy woman was, she was dancing just for him. And whoever she was, it was his dream, and he would have her or die trying.
He snaked out a hand, his fingers grazing the naked part of her upper thigh. Heat traveled through him and gathered lower. Her bottom lip dropped into a playful pout and she waved her forefinger at him in a no-no movement as she stepped away from his outstretched hand. Did she say, “Not until the song’s over”?
Who cared about the song? As her lips neared his, he sure didn’t. Excitement overtook him and he leaned up to catch her lips, but she’d drawn away. Kiss me! He wanted to see her face. Instead, he saw black lace covering creamy white breasts. Oh. He swallowed as part of him roused to painful attention. Sanity fled. He’d been a year without a woman, so no wonder the intensity filling him. She glanced back again, her black robe skimming his bare chest. His lips opened and his head arched. Did his mystery woman know what she did to him?
Of course she did. The song playing in his head crescendoed and as it began to wind down she moved closer. He willed the dream to brighten, but, backlit by the television, the dream refused. Suddenly, her body sat next to his. “Hey,” she said.
Did he answer her? He wasn’t sure what he said, for when her lips touched the side of his jaw, he lost all control. He reached forward, fisted his hands into that long hair that had been calling him and brought her lips down to his.
The rockets he’d made as a kid didn’t have anything on the explosion now shooting through him as he kissed her. He ravaged her mouth, tasting his dream woman’s sweet kiss. Never had he had a dream so real or so good, and he refused to question it lest it dissipate before he’d fully enjoyed it. His hand cupped her breast, the black lace texture tempting his fingers to slide beneath. She gasped against his mouth as he pearled a nipple, and she fell closer to him.
He didn’t want to let her mouth go, but he wanted to taste her, to lick the creamy valley between and taste those hardened peaks themselves.
All he had to do was roll her over. He encircled her waist and turned her so that her back pressed against the couch. Her stocking-covered legs wound around his bare ones. Damn, he wanted her. His body throbbed and he thrust his tongue back into her mouth. As she returned his kiss, her throaty moan tormented him further.
He pulled away a little, his fingers pushing the merry widow down. She was beautiful and he longed to see her face. He forced his eyes to adjust to the dim light and then he forced himself to picture her face. And then he could see her. Her eyes were closed, but something was so familiar. Lauren? He was dreaming of Lauren.
No. This couldn’t be Lauren. Lauren didn’t wear smoky makeup or have hair the color of honey. He’d dreamed of Lauren once, more than a year ago, but she’d never looked like this. She certainly hadn’t been a siren. She’d never made his body respond, never turned him into a randy teenage schoolboy.
She leaned to kiss him again and he let those provocative lips send him spinning. His body ached with need and Justin clung to the dream.
“Oh, Jeff.”
Every inch of Justin stilled as if cold water had just drenched him. Sharp painful awareness filled him. This wasn’t a dream.
And if this wasn’t a dream…
He was really kissing Lauren. Denial sounded in his brain. No. Jeff and Lauren weren’t… Jeff would have said something. Warned him. Jeff always confided in Justin. Always.
Reality slapped Justin upside the head. He’d been kissing Lauren. She’d been trying to seduce Jeff. She thought he was Jeff. She didn’t realize… “Lauren!”
Her eyes flew open. “Jeff?”
Somehow Justin stood, and already Lauren was scrambling off the couch and to her feet. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, I…”
Where was that light? Justin fumbled for the switch, wishing for once that those clap-on, clap-off devices weren’t so silly and that people like his brother actually bought them. His fingers found the knob and he flipped it. Harsh white light flooded the room.
He saw the exact moment that her realization of his identity dawned. Her well-kissed and swollen lips opened in shocked disbelief. Horror claimed those deep brown eyes. He knew exactly what she saw—his near nakedness and his now-softening arousal. Her hand flew to her lips, she gathered her arms around her lace-covered chest, and before Justin could even think of stopping her, she slammed out the front door.
Chapter 3
She’d been kissing Justin! Lauren leaned against her front door for a brief moment to gather her wits. Lock. She needed to lock the door. To her dismay, her hand shook so much that it took her two tries to place the security chain in its holder. The dead bolt, at least, turned easily under her fumbling fingers.
But the fact that her door was now locked didn’t ease her fears. Dear Lord. How had this happened? She’d been kissing the wrong Wright!
Her chest heaved and she could hear the voice of her yoga instructor. Take deep calming breaths. Deep calming breaths. Lauren tried, but those miraculous deep calming breaths her instructor swore by didn’t help. No, right now Lauren still wanted to drop through the floor and bury herself six feet under, forever and ever. She’d been kissing Justin Wright!
She hated Justin. Thought he was the scourge of the planet. He annoyed her. He was rude. A jerk. A womanizer. See? She had proof. He’d ravaged her and… It had been good. Oh, so very good. His kisses had sent shivers to her curling toes.
No! She tried to wipe the kiss away, but her lips still tingled from the touch of his. Think of Jeff. She wanted Jeff, sweet adorable Jeff. Not his wicked playboy twin who was a constant thorn in her side.
Hot tears filled Lauren’s eyes and she mentally berated herself. How could this have happened? What was Justin doing at Jeff’s? And despite the fact that he shouldn’t have been there in the first place, how could she have made such a terrible mistake? Sure, the room had been dark except for the TV. But she should have known. She should have been able to tell the difference between the two brothers. They wore their watches on different wrists. Shouldn’t that have been an early clue that she had the wrong man? But she’d been so swept away!
So, instead of Jeff, she’d kept right on kissing Justin! Now her tears fell freely, ruining the makeup that Meredith had spent two painstaking hours perfecting. Lauren buried her face in her hands for a long anguished moment. Then, in an attempt to cleanse herself of the memory of Justin’s tantalizing touch, Lauren entered the bedroom and stripped off the offending clothes. She tossed the whole lingerie outfit into the deep recesses of her walk-in closet. She preferred never to see it again. The outfit had worked, all right, but not on the right brother.
How did one recover from this gaffe? Did one? Thank God, Justin had said something or she’d have been the making of a Jerry Springer show. Lauren pulled on her warm flannel pajamas, the gown dropping reassuringly