banner banner banner
Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com
Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe: On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com

скачать книгу бесплатно


After waking up with her curled in his arms, he’d lain awake for twenty minutes. Torturing himself with the feel of her plump breasts rising and falling against his forearm, her soft buttocks pillowed against his reinvigorated erection, and recalled their lovemaking in every exquisite, excruciating detail.

He pictured her gorgeous breasts after he’d taken off her bra. The large, rosy nipples rigid with arousal as he teased the swollen tips with his teeth. Then her pale cheeks flushed with colour, her lips slightly parted, the harsh sobs of her orgasm as his fingers sank into the wet heat at her core. Her limp body draped over his shoulder. And at last, the incredible feel of her full lips caressing his erect flesh.

He’d never seen a more erotic sight, and had been forced to stop her before he went off like a rocket. But he’d instantly regretted it when she’d lurched away, the desire and excitement in her eyes snuffed out by regret and panic.

He’d never met a woman who was so effortlessly seductive, who could turn him inside out with lust without doing much more than breathing and yet was so unsure of herself.

Some guy had clearly done a number on her. That could be the only answer. And as he’d listened to her sleep and resisted the urge to wake her up and ravish her all over again, he’d felt his curiosity—and his anger—grow.

He’d struggled to get a grip on both before he did something idiotic. So he’d eased her out of his arms, and climbed out of bed to arrange dinner.

While he’d run a bath in the enormous whirlpool tub, then sat in the lounge waiting for their meal to arrive, he’d contemplated exactly how he was going to play things for the rest of the night, and had come to a few important conclusions.

Cassie Fitzgerald was sweet and sexy and just what he needed after his dry spell. He’d spent far too many months recently sweating over the direction of his business and more specifically figuring out the best way to cut the last of his ties to his ex-wife—and his sex life had suffered as a result.

Maybe he wasn’t anywhere near as prolific as he had been in his teens, but he wasn’t a man who dealt all that well with months of abstinence. His explosive, uncontrolled reaction to Cassie in the first place was evidence of that.

That Cassie was the complete antithesis of the women he usually chose to date, who were as jaded as he was in the sack, was the only reason why he found her so captivating—and so refreshing. But making an issue of it by satisfying his curiosity about her past wasn’t an option. It had been quite a while since he’d had a one-night stand, but he knew that mixing sex with intimacy was always a mistake.

This trip was about correcting the mistakes of his past, his marriage being the biggest one of all; getting involved with anyone would kind of defeat the purpose of the whole enterprise.

He planned to enjoy this evening, and he wanted Cassie to enjoy it too. From her fragile confidence and her touchingly insecure reactions when they made love, he suspected she hadn’t got to enjoy sex nearly as much as she should have in the past. And maybe it was arrogant of him, but while he’d never professed to know what women wanted emotionally—and didn’t intend to find out—he’d made it his life’s work to know what they enjoyed in bed.

Cassie’s sexual liberation was a little project that he was more than happy to dedicate himself to. Especially as Cassie seemed so receptive to the idea. Anything else wasn’t going to happen. So he wasn’t about to risk encouraging her to think this was more by asking her personal questions.

But as he took a pensive sip of his champagne and Cassie’s eyes met his he noticed the potent mix of desire and reticence in their depths and couldn’t quite ignore the thorn digging into his side.

Setting his glass down, he reached across the table and anchored the errant curl of hair that had fallen across Cassie’s cheek back behind her ear.

‘How’s the food?’ he asked.

‘Delicious,’ she said, and his gut tightened right up again.

He’d always had a bad habit, he thought wryly, of finding the forbidden irresistible. That was why he’d spent a night redecorating the school gym at seventeen and ended up getting arrested. And it was also why he’d been unable to resist sleeping with his main investor’s daughter years later, and got trapped in a marriage of convenience that had caused him no end of headaches. He thought he’d learned to curb the impulse to do something he knew he would later regret.

But as Cassie’s gaze flicked back to her plate the dangerous impulse took charge of his tongue and he heard himself saying, ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Cassidy, but I got the impression earlier that you’re not a veteran of really amazing sex?’

Cassie jerked her chin up, stunned by the perceptive question. And what it might mean. Why had he asked that? And how did he know? Was her lack of proficiency that obvious?

She pushed out a laugh. ‘Why would you think that?’ she scoffed, deciding to bluff. Unfortunately, the colour charging into her cheeks wasn’t exactly playing along.

He pushed his plate aside, the quizzical smile he sent her making the colour charge faster.

‘There’s no need to be embarrassed,’ he said, not just calling her bluff, but trampling all over it. ‘I’m surprised, that’s all.’ Placing his hands behind his head, he stretched back as he studied her, making the chair creak and the robe fall open revealing a tantalising glimpse of those mouth-watering abdominal muscles.

She reached for her champagne flute, trying not to follow the line of hair bisecting his abs, which she now knew arrowed down to something even more enticing.

‘You’re a beautiful woman, with an extremely passionate nature,’ he said, his voice so low she was sure she could feel it reverberating across some of the tender places he’d explored so thoroughly earlier in the evening. ‘I just wondered why you haven’t indulged it more?’

She gulped and put the glass down, grateful that she hadn’t taken a sip of the champagne yet.

An extremely passionate nature! Had he actually said that? About her?

She was both stunned and flattered by his assessment, and her heart squeezed a little. It had never been her fault that first David then Lance couldn’t remain faithful, and now she had indisputable proof. Jace Ryan, who was a much more talented man than either of them would ever be, found her beautiful and extremely passionate.

She felt both vindicated and empowered by the thought, and her recently activated flirt gene flickered back to life. ‘Because, of course, you’d be an expert on that,’ she teased, determined to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. She certainly didn’t plan to talk about her past relationships with men, because that would ruin the nice little buzz from his compliment.

One dark brow lifted. ‘An expert on what?’

‘Indulging an extremely passionate nature.’

He huffed out a laugh. ‘Guilty as charged.’ Tilting his chair forward, he stood up. Taking her hands in his, he tugged her out of the chair. ‘But I definitely think your extremely passionate nature needs a lot more indulgence. And tonight I’m more than happy to sacrifice myself for the cause.’

Her pulse points pounded.

How easy would it have been for her to start tumbling into love with a man as overpowering as Jace Ryan last Christmas, with a lot less encouragement than really amazing sex and a few casual compliments? But luckily now she was much more pragmatic. He didn’t know anything about her or her past, so he couldn’t possibly know how much this night meant to her.

And she had no intention of letting him find out.

‘That’s very noble of you,’ she whispered cheekily, glad to have deflected his questioning so easily.

He gave the tie on her robe a slow tug, until it released, the flaps falling open. His rough palms brushed around her waist and cupped her bare bottom. ‘I thought so,’ he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as moisture flooded between her thighs.

He pushed the robe off her shoulders and she gave a soft gasp as it dropped to the floor. Then yelped as he lifted her into his arms.

‘Time for your next lesson,’ he said as he carried her into the bathroom. ‘Really amazing sex in a whirlpool tub.’

She clasped her arms round his neck and clung on, laughing while her senses stampeded into overdrive—the tight squeeze in her heart drowned out by the frantic beat of arousal and the loud splash as he dumped her into warm scented water.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_271ace62-7729-5e04-b962-a03a9e5f72ee)

‘I ’M GOING to be stuck in London on business until New Year’s Day,’ Jace’s voice murmured in Cassie’s ear, his soap-slicked hands cupping her heavy breasts and lazily teasing the nipples with his thumbs. ‘Have you got any plans for the Christmas period?’

A little shocked by the renewed jolt of heat, and a lot more shocked by the casual enquiry, Cassie shifted in his lap, feeling the heavy arousal nestled between her legs, and her heart leapt into her throat.

After they’d soaped each other into a frenzy, he’d insisted she sit on the edge of the huge tub so he could take her into his mouth. She’d never felt anything so exquisite in her life before, the rough, expert play of his tongue on her sensitised clitoris quickly becoming more than she could bear. But when she’d come down from the intense high, the look of satisfaction on his face had made her feel ever so slightly vulnerable.

She was feeling a lot more vulnerable now.

‘Why do you ask?’ And why had her heart just rocketed into her throat at his question? He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Could he? That they should extend their one-night fling?

He rubbed his palms over the rigid peaks and chuckled when a moan slipped out. ‘Because I want more time to play with you while I’m here. One night isn’t going to be enough.’

There it was again, the smug tone of voice—and the bump of her heart in her throat.

‘The water’s getting cold,’ she said, levering herself out of his lap.

But before she could climb out, his large hands bracketed her hips, holding her in place. ‘Why didn’t you answer my question?’ he said as she glanced over her shoulder.

He didn’t look hurt or offended. Why would he? But even so she couldn’t quite bring herself to give him a straight answer. The desire to say yes to his suggestion was so powerful, she knew it had to be a bad idea.

She wasn’t the naive little twit she’d been for the first twenty-seven years of her life. She’d turned a corner in the last ten months and she would never go back to that. Believing all the empty promises her father had told her as a child, only to be left devastated when he never lived up to any of them. Or falling for David at art college, only to be told she wasn’t what he was looking for. Or, worst of all, accepting a proposal from a man who, during the whole three years he’d bunked at her flat while he was ‘between jobs’, she now suspected had never been faithful to her.

But while she knew she had finally learned her lesson with Lance—that men were about as reliable as the electrical appliances you bought from a door-to-door salesman—she wasn’t at all happy about the way her heart was leaping about in her chest. Just as it had done all those years ago when her father had rung up from Tokyo or Rome or San Francisco to tell her he’d definitely see her that weekend … Or when Lance had got down on one knee on the tiny balcony of her flat on Valentine’s Day and asked her to marry him …

She wasn’t a sucker any more, but was she completely cured? And did she really want to put her new, cynical self to the test with a man like Jace? Especially at Christmas time, when losing your grip on reality was practically a requirement of the season?

Crossing her arms over her bare breasts, she wriggled out of his grip and stepped out of the tub.

‘Hey, come back here. You haven’t given me an answer,’ he said.

Grabbing a large fluffy white towel from the neatly folded pile on the vanity, she wrapped it round her dripping body.

‘Why don’t we talk about it later?’ she offered. ‘I’m not sure what I’m doing over the next week or so,’ she added, glad she sounded so blasé when she didn’t feel blasé. She secured the towel over her breasts and glanced back, fluttering her eyelashes for all she was worth. ‘And I thought you promised me more really amazing sex?’ she said, deciding that flirtation was the best defence.

She heard the splash as he followed her out of the tub. And gulped as she watched him in the mirror, her eyes devouring the sight of his naked body, glistening wet. His arm reached over her to grab another towel.

‘Are you trying to distract me?’ he murmured against her hair as she watched his reflection hook the towel around his waist.

‘Is it working?’ she asked, tilting her head to see the hot look on his face.

His hands circled her waist, tugged her back against his chest. ‘What do you think?’

Arousal charged through her system as the feel of something hard and insistent butted against her bottom through the layers of towelling. ‘Yes,’ she murmured.

Turning her in his arms, he gripped the top of her towel in his fist. ‘You know, you’re a much badder girl than I gave you credit for.’

‘Bad is more fun, remember,’ she quipped back. ‘You said so yourself.’

‘So I did.’ He pressed his lips to hers, distracting her, while he loosened her towel with a quick tug. ‘But from now on there are rules.’

‘Rules?’ She grasped the fist he had on her towel with both hands as the knot slipped. ‘What rules?’

‘For starters—’ he manacled her wrists in one hand, lifted her fingers to his lips, forcing her to let go of his fist, then whipped her towel off with the other ‘—I want you naked.’

‘Oh,’ she said, the blush spreading up her neck at the wicked grin on his face as her towel dropped to her feet. ‘Well, fine,’ she said, wrestling her hands free from his grasp. ‘But I happen to believe in women’s rights.’ She slid her hands under his towel and yanked it free. ‘Which means the same goes for you.’

He laughed, not remotely embarrassed by the powerful erection standing up against his belly. ‘Good thing I happen to be a firm believer in women’s rights,’ he said playfully, then grabbed her and hoisted her onto his shoulder. She shrieked, kicked, giggled, but didn’t struggle too hard, distracted somewhat by the upsidedown view of a very nice male behind.

‘Or you’d be in serious trouble now,’ he finished as he marched her into the bedroom. Tossing her onto the bed, he climbed up after her, the wicked gleam in his eye so full of purpose she wondered if she ought to make a run for it.

His hand gripped her ankle and he dragged her beneath him before she could make up her mind. ‘But I’m still going to want an answer.’ Cupping her hips, he cradled the thick erection against her belly. ‘Eventually.’

‘I’ll give you an answer later.’ She ran her hands over his broad shoulders, let her fingers caress the strong column of his neck and fist in the hair at his nape as he sheathed himself efficiently with the condom.

Much later.

She couldn’t think about his suggestion now, couldn’t let it ruin the rush of excitement tingling along her skin.

He grasped her hips, and she lifted up, taking his mouth in a seeking kiss. He eased into her as his tongue thrust, the penetration so deep it took her breath away. Pleasure blindsided her as he rocked in short, sharp, devastating thrusts. She built to peak with startling speed, the fanciful leap of her heartbeat, the questions racing in her head, lost in the roar of ecstasy.

‘About the next week or so.’ Jace brushed the flat of his hand over the curve of her bottom, struggling to focus his mind and sound nonchalant while his body was still humming. ‘What’s your answer?’

‘Hmm?’ Her soft breasts snuggled against his side as her nose pressed into his neck and her hand rested against his chest.

He hoped to hell she couldn’t feel the way his heart was battering his ribs.

‘I want to do more of this.’ He turned his head, placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘How about you?’ he finished, a little surprised he was having to press the point.

Why hadn’t she already leapt at the chance to have an affair with him?

Suggesting it had seemed like little more than a formality in the bath, given the way she’d responded to him so far. Damn it, she’d nearly passed out when he’d put his mouth on her—and watching her come apart like that had been exquisitely arousing. But instead of agreeing to the suggestion, she’d been instantly evasive, just like when he’d asked her about her past over dinner. And he’d had to face the unthinkable prospect that she might say no.

He wasn’t so arrogant as to believe every woman wanted to jump into bed with him, but the sexual chemistry between them was explosive. Any fool could see that. She wanted him all right. She wanted him a lot. So why had she refused to give him a straight answer? Was there some problem he wasn’t seeing? And why had the thought that there was a problem piqued his curiosity about her even more? Usually if a woman put up any resistance he backed off instantly. But with her he couldn’t seem to let it go.

It had been a long time since he’d been stupid enough to let his sex drive dictate his actions. But even knowing he should probably back off, he knew he wasn’t going to.

He had close to two weeks in London to meet a series of European buyers and deal with his ex-wife’s solicitors—so he could sell Artisan and finally shove the skeletons of his past back in the closet they had lurched out of and forget about them for good.

For a man who had spent the last fourteen years of his life working eighteen- to twenty-hour days—and playing pretty hard in the hours that were left—the next thirteen days spread out before him like a long, slow canter into extreme boredom. The fact that it was Christmas wasn’t a big help either.

He wasn’t a fan of the festive season. All that false bonhomie and conspicuous consumption got on his nerves—and having to endure it in the place he’d struggled so hard to get out of was going to add a nice thick layer of irritability to his aversion. Sure, the five-star luxury of The Chesterton was a far cry from the cramped council flat in Shepherd’s Bush where he’d grown up—which was the main reason he’d booked the best suite here, the difference proving to him just how far he’d come from that unhappy troublesome kid—but he’d left this city for a reason, and being forced back here by Helen and her recent interference in the company hadn’t improved his disposition one bit.

Until Cassie had leapt into his car with an indignant scowl on her cute face and those deliciously full breasts spilling out of her drenched coat.

He gripped her waist and jostled her slightly. ‘So, Cassidy, what’s it to be?’ he murmured into her hair, her enticing cinnamon scent made even more tempting mixed with the fresh scent of the hotel’s vanilla soap. He imagined all the fun they could have together as he waited for her to reply, ready to do some serious persuasion if she didn’t give him the answer he wanted.

The next two weeks would be the opposite of boring with Cassie in his bed. So he wasn’t about to let her give him some lame excuse. A grin split his features, and luckily she happened to be uniquely susceptible to his powers of persuasion.

Having taken a moment to mull that satisfying fact over in his head, he tilted his chin down to peer into her face. And the smug smile vanished.

Her eyelashes touched the flushed skin of her cheeks while the steady murmur of her breathing brushed against his collarbone.

He cursed under his breath. Unreal. She’d only gone and fallen fast asleep on him.

CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_5ce757c7-143f-5ea6-ac44-a4faf0ddacdc)

SEDUCTIVE, intensely erotic images swirled in Cassie’s head as she drifted out of a dream-filled sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open and the fierce tug of arousal pulsing in her sex intensified as she became aware of the muscular forearm banded under her breasts. Deep, even breathing brushed the top of her head and a warm body pressed against her back.

Jace.

She blinked at the thin winter sunlight gilding the opulent furnishings of his hotel suite and shifted slightly, the tenderness between her thighs so acute it was almost as if he were still lodged inside her. A hot flush swept through her as the erotic images from her dream recurred in vivid detail. And she realised they weren’t dreams at all, but memories.

She tensed as Jace’s sleep-roughened murmur made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. His arm tightened briefly under her breasts and then relaxed back into sleep.

Waiting a minute to make sure he was completely asleep, she took a moment to enjoy the feel of being wrapped so securely in his embrace.

A wistful smile curled her lips. So Jace Ryan was a snuggler? Who would have thought it?