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“So you’re a La Perla fan?”
“I have no idea what a La Perla is, but I’m over the moon about your underwear.”
Her grin let him know she’d planned to knock him off his feet with the stunning bra and panties. Jesus, she was still wearing her heels, and the combination was enough to make a weaker man come without a touch.
The garments were sheerest white. Barely there, except for a small triangle that covered her pussy so he couldn’t tell what she was hiding. He didn’t give a damn. She could be hairy, bald as a cue ball or anything in between, it all worked as far as he was concerned. That he didn’t know even with all that flesh on display made him insane.
The opposite was true on top. There was nothing but that sheer, sheer white covering her stunning breasts. Hard little nipples in the center of pink areolas like iced cupcakes with cherries on top.
And while staring at her was a wet dream all its own, there was so much more to be done. He tugged his shirt out from his trousers, toed off his shoes, then his socks, and by the time he’d unbuttoned the shirt with his right hand, his left had undone his belt and was working on his zipper.
Rebecca was most definitely not helping. In fact, she was making it ridiculously harder to do this circus trick because whether she realized it or not, every move she made turned up the heat a notch. The sway of her hips as she took a single step, the roll of her shoulder, the shake of her head so her hair fluffed around her face. There wasn’t a thing about her that didn’t make him want to beg.
“You’re killing me,” he said, his voice as rough as sandpaper. He let his button-down fall, leaving him in his undershirt, and then his pants dropped and he kicked those out of the way.
Her gaze moved down to his thigh even as she ran her fingers over her bare tummy. Jake tensed as he waited for her verdict. She winced, but her hand didn’t stop moving. He relaxed. She wasn’t freaked out. His first date after had been, and he could never bring himself to blame her, but his gratitude that this woman hadn’t run for the hills knew no bounds.
“Are you going to just stand there staring?” she asked.
“I don’t know what to do first,” he said. “You’re stunning.”
For all that she was driving him wild, the hint of a blush that warmed her cheeks was almost more than he could bear. “That’s a pretty good place to start,” she said as she covered the distance between them. “But an even better place would be in the actual bedroom.”
He swung his arm around her neck and pulled her into a punishing kiss. His free hand went to the low line of her panties, the covered spot, and he slipped his fingers inside the material.
Ah. Not a full Brazilian then, but a landing strip. They needed to get to the bed before he came standing in his boxer briefs.
4
JAKE KISSED HER AS IF HE’D read her diary. All the things she hadn’t written down. How that exact pressure made her shiver. How one of her favorite things was when it wasn’t only thrusting, but teasing and nipping and licking and just plain wanting to feel everything.
His fingers brushing the small trail of hair made her quiver, and God, they needed to stop screwing around. She stepped back from the glorious kiss and took his hand out of her panties. “Now?” she asked. “Please?”
He laughed, dipped somewhat inelegantly to grab his slacks then pushed her along with his hand conveniently placed on her ass.
Finally, there was the king-size feather bed. It wasn’t merely a gorgeous thing to sleep on. The plush headboard, which was actually a built-in feature of the wall, made for comfy bracing, if it should be needed. She hoped it would be needed.
“What are you grinning about?” he asked as he spun her around to face him.
“Happy. Excited. Wishing you were very much more naked than you are.”
“I can do that,” he said. “Here goes—if it’s too much a turnoff—well, I won’t need therapy over it.” He yanked his V-neck undershirt up his chest, quick, like taking off a bandage.
Rebecca was caught by the view of his slim waist, the lines of his abdominal muscles, the almost-but-not-quite-perfect four pack and the fact that he had actual hair on his chest. She swallowed at the blatant masculinity.
She, in turn, felt, well, gooey. Feminine. Small, hungry, attracted, girlie. She moved closer to him, unable to stop her fingers from touching his dark, slender line of hair that rose from just below his ribs until it spread to lightly cover his chest.
He gasped at the brush of her hand, and she watched his muscles shudder. Then he pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, revealing the scar at the top of his left shoulder. “The bullet barely missed the subclavian artery,” he said. “Came in smooth, came out rough, but I was lucky. The doctor says eventually I should regain almost all my mobility.”
She appreciated the heads-up. The small wound was puckered, red, shiny, but nothing horrific. Whereas his back, when he turned, wasn’t nearly as neat. She exhaled hard, not from disgust but from sympathy. His skin was mottled; that same shiny red here though making it look more like a fresh burn than what it was. She raised her hand again, but paused an inch from his poor flesh.
Her gaze moved down to his thigh. That was a deep gouge, something ripped away, not like the torn and battered scarring on his shoulder. “Will it hurt?”
“To touch? No. It’s mostly numb. Not a hundred percent, and sometimes something will press the wrong nerve. But you don’t need to worry. That is, if you still want to—”
She leaned in then, letting her fingers brush the strange terrain as she pressed her lips to the edge of his wound. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”
“Me, too.” He turned around slowly. “Onward?”
She was the one to cup his face, to ravish him with tongue and teeth and urgency.
“Well, damn.” He kissed her again, once, hard, then stepped away, carefully maneuvering the waistband of his briefs over his straining cock. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at his darkly flushed erection. There was moisture at the tip, his foreskin barely visible. “I’m going to start begging in a minute,” he whispered.
She forced her gaze up. “We wouldn’t want that.”
He groaned low and loud, his cock jerking against his taut stomach. His hands went to her shoulders, gripping her firmly as he walked her to the bed. He paused before the back of her legs touched the mattress. “Okay, I can’t … I love the …” He indicated her outfit with a sweeping glance up, down and up again. “That bra … Amazing. You’re amazing. But it’s got to go, because there isn’t a thing I don’t want to see. All right?”
She nodded, not able to do much more because he still held her arms.
Releasing her, he reached around and undid the bra’s clasp. Then he kissed the curve of her neck with warm lips as he slipped the straps off her shoulders. The bra fell between them, floated down, touching her skin, and his, too, if his sharp hiss was anything to go by.
His gaze on her breasts, he huffed a breath before he swallowed. “Jesus. Rebecca.”
She blushed again. The heat filled her cheeks and where was all her bravado and determination to be in charge of the night? She felt … shy? A little bit. Pleased, definitely. Not that she didn’t want his praise, but in a moment she was going to duck her chin and twirl her hair because in all her fantasies of how things would go, she hadn’t considered that she’d see him as so much more than the man on the card. She liked him, and even though there wasn’t going to be a second date, she wanted him to like her in return. Not only the sex, but her.
She sent her panties to rest on top of her bra. The only thing he couldn’t see now were her feet but that would change in a minute. He grinned, like he had in the hallway, and fell into a cloud of white down, bringing her along for the ride.
They kissed, deeper now, possessive and exploring and hungry. He sucked the very tip of her tongue, showing her how good he was with small things.
There were hands at play as well, hers brushing over his arms, his sides, down to the tapered waist and slim hips. She loved hip bones with their curves and shapes, but more than that she loved the unlimited access. She suspected he’d let her do anything, feel him anywhere. She could paint his toenails blue and he’d stay hard to the last little piggy. And if he wanted to return the favor? She’d probably quiver so much she’d have nail polish up to her ankles.
She laughed while he was teasing her lips, and he pulled slightly away. “What?”
“I’m already having the best time ever. You’re …” She sighed. “You’re fantastic.”
The sound he made wasn’t a word, but when he turned them both so she fell back on the feather bed, she gathered he liked the compliment.
“Condoms,” he said. “Pocket.” Then he rolled off the bed to his feet, and she got a show of his extraordinary butt as he rifled his trouser pockets.
“My,” she said, when he turned around. His cock looked exceptionally eager. It was well proportioned, longer and thicker than average, and it was straining so that with every move it tapped his belly, leaving a trail of liquid excitement behind.
She rose to her knees, unable to lay back passively when she was as eager as he was to discover the next sensation, to taste and to touch and to let herself be carried away.
He got back on the bed, ripping open the condom as he shuffled to the center, then he brought his lips so close to her ear she shivered with the warmth of his breath. “I want you to ride me. The first time. So I won’t miss a thing.”
Rebecca nodded. She’d thought it might be easier for him with his injuries, but that wasn’t her main consideration at the moment. She wanted to watch him, as well. See the expression on his face as he entered her. “You need to put that on,” she said, touching the rubber.
Jake slung another pillow where his head was likely to land, then eased the condom on his cock, hissing the whole time. As he straightened his legs, he put his hand on the base of his prick, holding it steady, and he eased back, his head canted so he would have a perfect view.
Rebecca wasn’t particularly showy in bed, always a little too self-conscious, but something about Jake … Still on her parted knees, she took hold of her right nipple with her fingers. Two fingers. Her nips were hard enough that when she squeezed them, the tip poked out, swollen and dark pink.
“God damn,” he said, his voice an endearing combination of breathless and raspy.
Her free hand moved slowly down her chest to her tummy. She circled her belly button, then walked two fingers down and down until they reached her landing strip. She hadn’t stopped with the nipple play, so Jake’s gaze was going up and down, his lips parted as his breathing became more ragged.
He couldn’t seem to help moving the hand on his cock. He stroked himself and it must have felt dangerous because the muscles in his jaw tightened and so did the tendons in his neck. Then he closed his eyes, groaning as if she were killing him dead. “Rebecca. I’m already going to embarrass myself with how fast I’m going to come. Do you really want that to happen before I’m inside you?”
She removed her hands from her body and she felt flushed with more than anticipation. She liked driving him crazy. Which was only fair. She was feeling kind of nuts herself.
“Point taken,” she said. She crawled close to his body so she could kiss him one more time. It started slow and sensual, but it turned into hot and burning in seconds. “Ready?” she asked, her voice a breathy whisper.
“Dying.”
She got into position, took over for his steadying hand by reaching behind and lowered herself so slowly her thighs trembled. Watching him every second.
His pupils were huge, his nostrils flared, his lips were parted and he sounded as if he’d just finished a marathon. It was fantastic.
She didn’t want to look away from his face, but movement down below forced the issue. It was his muscles. Pectorals, abdominals. Clenching, trembling. Chest rising and falling like a piston, and there was a sheen of sweat that made her feel like the Vixen Queen of Planet Earth.
As much fun as it had been to watch him unravel, now all her attention had switched to her own body. Because, whoa. He wasn’t lying there anymore, he was thrusting. Up. His hands had somehow gripped her hips when she wasn’t looking, and he was moving her to suit himself. She didn’t mind. At all.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, and that was the voice she’d remember. The wobbly, wrecked croak that was just this side of recognizable speech. “Hot and wet and, Christ, when you grip me like that. Dammit … warn me next time. No, don’t warn me. Do anything you want. Just make sure I haven’t passed out. I don’t want to miss any … ahhh.”
That made her tighten like a vise and she leaned forward enough to where his cock rubbed her perfectly. She’d been so close that all it took was a slight thrust with her hips and she was coming, her head thrown back, her mouth open and gasping, keening in a pitch she didn’t recognize.
When she could see again, she realized he’d come, too, and she’d wanted to watch. Dammit.
She fell sideways, sprawling, gasping away. She managed to turn her head to find him looking at her. Grinning like a very satisfied kid at Christmas. “That was …”
He nodded.
“Again?”
His eyebrows rose and he blinked at her. “I’m thirty-four, not seventeen.”
“How long?”
He breathed for a while. Then grinned. “Give me half an hour. I’m feeling inspired.”
“I’ll order drinks.”
“See if they have Red Bull.”
She laughed. “I’m sure they can oblige.”
Well, how was it?????
OMG, Bree! Lunch? Here? 1:30?
Ur making me wait? I HATE u!
U do not. Bring caffine & IV.
LOL. C U later.
REBECCA CLICKED OFF HER phone as she stared at her open briefcase. It felt as if she was forgetting something, but given the lack of any sensible amount of sleep, she had no chance of remembering. She shut the damn thing, aware of how much work she’d skipped in order to indulge her libido last night, then put on her coat. She’d meant to have been at the office for hours by now.
It had been worth it, though. She grabbed her purse and briefcase. There was no one in the elevator, but that would change as she headed down. It was eight-thirty already; she wanted the espresso she hadn’t had time or patience to make for herself. The elevator stopped two floors down from her twenty-eighth-floor condo, and she exchanged the traditional noncommittal, no-need-to-speak smile with the man who was exceedingly proud of his Swiss watch. She had at one time known the brand, but all she could remember now was that it cost over a million bucks, and that this guy with his salt-and-pepper hair and his cashmere coat took every opportunity to flash his prize possession. It reminded her of a girl with a new engagement ring.
The elevator stopped at almost every floor, and everyone got very chummy by the time they reached the lobby. She was, of course, stuck in the back, and Mr. Swiss Watch’s back was squishing her boobs. Thank goodness for the layers of coat and clothes between them because she only wanted to think about her boobs in terms of last night and Jake.
She smiled as she crossed the lobby, nodding at the concierge and the doorman before hitting the street. It was freezing even though there was no snow left on Madison Avenue.
What she should have done was immediately get in line for a cab, but what she did was cross the street, swimming with the tide of dark coats and clicking heels, to Starbucks. Inevitably there was a long line, but she was desperate.
While she waited, she took out her cell phone and called Dani, her assistant, who would be wondering where the hell Rebecca was. Dani would have called her by nine, but not before.
“You okay?” Dani asked immediately.
“Headache. Late night. Everything okay there?”
“Except for your to-do list, everything’s great. Mr. Turner called, of course.”
Rebecca sighed. Turner was in charge of catering at the Four Seasons. “What now?”
“Something to do with the gift baskets for the guests, but he wouldn’t tell me what because I’m either a spy for another hotel or an idiot, I’m not quite sure.”
“I’ll call him when I get in. Do me a favor?”
“I’ll start the coffee in fifteen minutes. Are you getting something to eat?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“See you soon.”
Rebecca tried not to yawn, which made her yawn, and then she decided, the hell with it, she was going to think about Jake. To say he’d left an impression was … well, leaving him at the crack of dawn had been ridiculously difficult.
They’d been outside, on a very public street, and still she hadn’t been able to stop kissing him. She’d blamed him, of course, said it was all his fault, but it hadn’t been. She’d gotten all tingly the moment her lips met his. Tingly. God, who even said that. No one, that’s who.
The one very good thing he’d done was not ask for her phone number. Because that would have been stepping over the line. Last night was a one-night deal. Okay, so they’d technically had sex this morning in the shower, but that went under the rubric of one-night stand, so there was no need to get picky about it. The essence of the agreement, from both sides, had been that it was to be a singular event. Nothing more. One incredible, fantastic, amazing, toe-curling night. The end. Anything else was out of the question.
It would have been different if she was the kind of woman who regularly practiced recreational sex. She knew a lot who did, but she wasn’t one of them. First of all, she had too much on her plate as it was, and second, it never worked, not really. Sex and the City tried to glorify it, but in the end, all that fooling around didn’t amount to much.
She’d rather do without, thanks.
But goodness, if there was ever a man who appealed in a Sex and the City way, it was Jake. She closed her eyes as she pictured the way he’d looked at her with so much hunger she’d forgotten how to breathe. His hands on her bottom in the shower, such big hands, and such a very hard cock—
“Hey, lady, move it. Some of us got jobs to go to.”
