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Smiling, he withdrew his hand. Maggie felt the absence from head to toe, but silently promised herself it wouldn’t last long. Once they were alone, she had every intention of running her lips over him again. And she wouldn’t limit herself to his thumb.
“So, what will it be?” he asked, his tone low and seductive.
“Car parts or orgasms?” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “Orgasms, please.”
“I have one more question.” Hunter stood and walked around the table to offer his hand. He’d recovered his light, playful tone, but his gaze remained intent. “Did you drive here?”
Maggie placed her hand in his. “My car’s parked in the lot.”
“Great. My hotel is five minutes from here. Unless you’d rather go to your place?”
“No, we can’t go there.” On her feet and steady, she pulled her hand free and turned to pick up her purse, hoping he hadn’t seen the panicked expression flash across her face. She couldn’t take him home with her. She needed the freedom to walk away in the morning, or tonight, if things didn’t go as planned.
“Marriott it is,” he said playfully. Maggie felt her panic ease. “May I have your keys?”
She led the way to her rented Toyota, rummaging through her bag. She’d gone for sexy shoes, but opted to keep her sensible holds-everything-but-the-sun purse. Including the condoms Olivia had given her. She stumbled as her hand brushed the box.
“Easy.” He took her elbow and guided her through the crowd. Maggie kept her eyes on the exit gate. She felt her face flush and knew if she looked at him now, he’d see the pink in her cheeks. All from a box of condoms. But, oh, the promise they held.
From the corner of her eye, Maggie saw a pair of tall blonde women in strapless tops and painted-on jeans checking out Hunter. Judging from their near-perfect bodies, the blondes did not have a linguine Alfredo problem.
Hunter released her elbow and pressed his palm flat against the bare skin on her back. He drew her closer until her hip brushed the side of his body. Instead of moving away from him, she leaned into his touch, enjoying the way her skin tingled. Half an inch lower and he would have touched the fabric of her shirt, but no, he’d opted for the intimate she’s-mine touch.
“Honey, you’re a helluva lot prettier,” he murmured.
She glanced up at him and followed his gaze to the blonde Barbie look-alikes. “Thanks.”
He smiled down at her. “Find your keys?”
“Right. The keys.” His hand stayed firm against her skin, guiding her through the gate as she turned her attention back to her bag. But she could barely focus. Not when he was touching her. She’d never been so aware of a man, never had her imagination fast-forward to where his fingers would go next. Higher or lower?
The sounds of the car show faded as they made their way through the parking lot. “They’re in here somewhere. I can drive. I know where the Marriott is—”
His hand fell away and she instantly missed the feel of him as he allowed her to step in front of him. Five minutes and they would be at the hotel. Five minutes and he’d be touching her again. If only she could find the key...
Warm breath tickled her neck and Maggie lost her train of thought.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. Soft fingertips swept her hair out of the way and then...lips. Soft, full lips.
Oh, God. Oh, my. Oh, yes...
She melted. His arm snaked around her waist, drawing her back against a hard wall of muscle. Sensation rushed down her body, settling into a warm ache as her knees went weak. He’d hit the perfect spot. He’d found the one place on the back of her neck, halfway between her shoulder and her hairline, that drove her mad with desire. Twelve months with Derrick and he’d never kissed her there, never turned her body to liquid need.
She pressed into the hard, muscled planes of his body, arching her back until her bottom rubbed against his crotch. She felt the hard evidence that he was just as turned on as she was. And feeling that, she wanted to be wild. She wanted to lose herself in a sea of excitement and desire. Her body was so alive it felt foreign. Was this really happening? To her?
Hunter sucked gently at the nape of her neck, keeping his hand pressed against her waist. Higher, she thought, move your hand higher. If he didn’t touch her breasts soon, her nipples would burn holes in her shirt. Forget the hotel, she wanted him here. Now. Against the car.
As softly as he’d pulled her to him, he let go. She steadied herself against the driver’s side door as her need slowly fell from an I-want-to-get-naked-with-you-in-the-parking-lot eleven to a nine.
“How about I drive,” he said, his voice like gravel.
“Good idea.” She managed to reach into her bag, her fingers searching, her mind unfocused from his kiss...and bingo. She withdrew the car key.
Like a man on a mission, he took her hand and quickly led her around to the passenger side. He unlocked her door and held it open as she slipped her giddy, excited body into the seat. But in the quiet car, away from him, her driving need faded and doubts seeped in. Maggie closed her eyes and clasped her hands together on her lap. She’d been seconds away from begging him to take her in the parking lot after a single kiss. What would happen once they were in his hotel room? Alone?
She didn’t say a word as he drove to the Marriott and turned into the parking lot. Alan Jackson’s “Gone Country” filled the car. Not country, she thought. Crazy. Out of control. She’d picked up a strange man at a car show, planned to have sex with him and told him as much. An hour ago she didn’t even know his name.
Her right hand reached for the door, her fingers gliding back and forth over the electric lock button. Crazy. Plain and simple. Her plan, which had sounded brilliant earlier, now seemed insane and maybe even a little dangerous. There was a reason sane people went on dates, shared meals and engaged in hours of getting-to-know-you small talk. It was so they didn’t fall into bed with a sinfully handsome man without knowing anything more than his name and occupation, that he liked nachos and could change a tire.
Oh, and he was a Ranger.
Maggie stole a quick glance at him and realized she knew more than what he’d revealed during their brief time together. Hunter Cross appeared to be a first-class gentleman and clearly knew his manners. He’d stood and held her chair. He’d opened the door for her. And he knew where to kiss her.
The memory of the kiss made the aching return. But was that enough? What if they got up to his room, she took off her clothes and he refused to wear a condom? She couldn’t just walk out of his hotel room the next morning wondering if he’d gotten her pregnant or worse.
He put the car in Park near a side entrance. She kept her gaze fixed on the red exit sign above the hotel door, her hands shifting in her lap. She interlaced her trembling fingers and then released them.
“Maggie?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’ll say good-night and let you drive home. Or we can go inside to the hotel bar and have another water. Your call.”
“No, I do.” Interlaced fingers drummed against opposite hands. “I want this.” I want you. Badly.
“Honey, your hands haven’t stopped moving since we got in the car.”
She released her grip and forced her fingers to lie still on her thighs.
“Nervous?” he asked gently.
“Yes.” Fingernails digging into her jeans, she turned to him. “I think I left out a few important questions back at the fairgrounds.”
He rested his arm on the center console and grinned. “I don’t have a favorite color, but I love homemade lasagna.”
“That’s great, but I need to know more.” The words tumbled forth as if she’d opened a floodgate, but she kept her eyes locked on her hands. “Like your medical history, and maybe a few references. And if you’re allergic to latex.”
He reached over and took her hand. His fingers wrapped around her palm and she felt the fear wane. She glanced up at him. If he was offended, she couldn’t tell from his gentle smile.
“Maggie, I won’t hurt you,” he said seriously. “You have my word. I have condoms with me and I plan to use them if you’re still interested. I swear on my father’s grave that I have a clean bill of health. I just spent four weeks in a VA hospital followed by two months of inpatient therapy. They ran every test in the book and I’m clean.”
“Why?”
“Gunshot.” It was his turn to look at the exit sign.
“Oh, God.” This was quickly becoming more complicated. Of all the men in the car show refreshment tent, she had to pick an injured Ranger. Depending on the extent of his injuries, the man sitting in the driver’s seat of her rental car might never return to active duty.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked.
Hunter laughed and smiled at her with his oh-so-handsome eyes. “Honey, I’ve been up for this since I first saw you at the bar.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at his thighs and saw the telltale bulge. The heat she’d felt when he kissed her neck returned full force. I want that, she thought. Inside me, thrusting me over the cliff into orgasm territory. Her excitement returned, but this time it was laced with something else. Power. She was the reason his pants were tight, probably uncomfortably so. And that inkling of control eased some of her fears.
“But if you’ve changed your mind, I will say good-night and go up to my room.” He paused and she kept her gaze fixed on his lap. “I would much rather give you those orgasms you need.”
“I don’t want to leave.” She withdrew her hand from his. “I just...I don’t know where to start.”
“Maggie. Look at me.” She lifted her gaze. Their eyes met and Maggie forgot to breathe. She stared deeply into his brown eyes and she knew, just knew, she could trust this man—at least for tonight.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
She obeyed.
“Now, tell me what you want, what you desire. Anything.”
I want you to take charge. Tell me what to do. But she couldn’t say that. No one had ever asked her what she wanted before. How could she reveal her fantasies to a virtual stranger? “I...I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” He reclaimed her hand and traced soft circles with his thumb. She leaned closer. “What have you always wanted to do but never had the chance? I promise I won’t laugh and you won’t shock me.”
“I don’t know....” How to put my fantasies into words.
She heard a soft rustling and sensed him moving closer and then—lips. The soft, full lips that had tantalized her neck in the parking lot gently brushed the edge of her mouth. Capturing her lips with his, he kissed her slowly, as if he’d be content to stay here in her car all night. Just kissing.
But making out in the front seat didn’t come close to fulfilling her fantasies. That was something the supposedly passionless Maggie would do—the Maggie who’d never shared her desires with the man she planned to marry. And right now? Passion threatened to short-circuit her brain. She leaned into him, hoping he’d take the hint and give her more.
Hunter did not disappoint. As far as first kisses went, this one was more of a conversation. He licked her lips as if asking, Do you trust me? Maggie opened her mouth slightly. His tongue swept inside, deepening the kiss, demanding to know if she was ready for more. As if he could sense her yielding, he stole his mouth away from hers.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Or maybe there’s something you don’t want.”
“I don’t want to be in control.” The words slipped out. “I just want to be and feel. Just for a little while.”
He leaned in again and his lips touched her ear. “Lucky for you, I like to be the one calling the shots.”
His tongue licked her earlobe and she groaned. Had she really said those words out loud? Really asked a man, a virtual stranger who could make a woman’s panties wet with just one look, to take control in bed? What if he misunderstood? She didn’t want to have to think or ask for what she needed; she just wanted him to know. But was that even possible? And what if he took charge by tying her to the bed? She might have a panic attack if she couldn’t get up and leave.
But wasn’t it time she finally let herself go? Maybe a little panic was good. Her carefully organized life would still be waiting for her in the morning.
“Come upstairs with me.” It was a command, a gentle one, but she knew from his tone he’d taken over.
4
MAGGIE WATCHED HUNTER slip out of the car and walk around to open her door, offering his hand as he helped her out.
It was now or never. She could still turn back. But her body, her desire took over, and she placed her hand in his. Her gut told her this man could deliver. She was safe with him.
Following him through the side door and down the red-and-gold carpet to the elevator bank, Maggie pushed aside her doubts and fears. He was in control now—of her, her orgasms, everything. She could just let go.
He held the elevator door. “After you.”
She stepped inside. There was no turning back now. She bit her lip as desire pooled in her belly and rushed lower.
“Maggie.” He stepped toward her, pressing her against the mirrored back wall. “I’m going to kiss you now, and you’re going to let me.”
The door closed and his lips caught hers, a gentle brush, then hot and hard, his mouth devouring hers. This time he wasn’t asking permission, he was taking and blazing the trail for his body to follow. She felt his hips press against her, his hands wrapping around her waist, holding her in place. His mouth left her wanting and wet, and his insistent body had her flexing her hips, returning the pressure. If she had any lingering uncertainty, it fell away, discarded on the elevator floor. And if they didn’t get to his room soon, she feared her clothes would follow.
He pulled away slightly. “More, Maggie?”
She groaned and, leaning back against the mirrored wall, offered him access to her body. Touch me there, she thought. But she couldn’t say the words, not yet, not here. In the elevator.
“Someone might see us,” she mumbled.
“They might. Is that part of your fantasy?”
“No,” she managed, still mesmerized by his touch.
“Then we better get you to the bedroom.” His hand moved from her waist to the back of her thigh, leaving a trail of sensation. “Up you go.”
He guided her leg upward until it wrapped around his waist. Then he lowered his other hand to her butt and lifted her off the floor. His lips found hers and he ground into her, pressing his hard length between her thighs.
The bell dinged and the door opened. Breaking the kiss, he turned and carried her out of the elevator and into the hall. Maggie closed her eyes and tried not to think about the grandmothers who might be wandering the hotel in search of ice. Instead, she ran her lips over his neck, nibbling the same place that he’d kissed earlier when she’d been pressed up against the car. Still holding her with one hand, he made his way along the hall. When he stopped, she felt herself pitch forward.
“Don’t drop me,” she said, drawing back to look at his face as he regained his balance and slipped his hand into his back pocket. His fingers brushed her calf in the process and Maggie squeezed her legs tighter. This man—he made her want and feel things she had thought out of her grasp. But here he was delivering them.
“We’re here.” Hunter smiled and slipped the card into the electronic reader.
He carried her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them before setting her on the bed.
“Take off your shirt,” he said, standing over her, his dreamy eyes watching her with a wicked glint. “I’ve been dying to see your breasts since you sat down at my table.”
Maggie had always been a rule follower, but occasionally she’d allowed for some creative interpretation. This was one of those times. Reaching for the bottom of her shirt, she ever so slowly began to lift. Inch by inch, she felt the cotton drift up over her belly.
Standing at the edge of the bed, Hunter stared, his eyes fixed on her hands, his chest rising and falling faster with each inch of skin she revealed. She watched his hands form tight fists at his sides.
“Higher,” he commanded, his tone raw and deep.
Loving how she affected him, she drew the fabric up and over her breasts, feeling the soft tickle as her shirt teased her erect nipples. Arching forward, she silently begged him to claim her. He didn’t move. Maggie pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples hardened further and her breasts ached to the point where if he didn’t touch her soon, she might need to take matters into her own hands—literally.
“In my fantasy, I wasn’t the only one undressed,” she said softly, not wanting to strip away his control, but needing to see what lay beneath his clothes.
“I’d hate to fall short,” he said, never taking his eyes off her chest.
“Impossible,” she murmured as he pulled his green polo over his head and tossed it to the floor.
Her jaw dropped as she drank in the sight. Biceps that begged to be squeezed, broad shoulders, perfectly defined pecs that tapered off to a narrow waist—she’d wanted muscles and, heaven help her, he delivered, with a body that would put most male underwear models to shame. Maggie dug her fingers into the bedding to keep her hands from reaching out and touching his six-pack abs.
Her gaze followed the dark hair from below his navel to where it disappeared beneath where the waistband of his jeans hugged his hips. More. She wanted to see more of him. But she couldn’t ask. She’d placed him in charge.
Forcing herself to look up, she saw the scarred flesh around his recent gunshot wound. It wasn’t the only marking on his otherwise perfect body. Unlike most underwear models, his torso featured a jagged four-, maybe five-inch scar on his right side. But that one looked old compared to his shoulder wound. Both were vivid reminders of who this man was. A battle-worn soldier. Who knew what type of damage he had on the inside?
