The Hungry Heart

by Brenda Gayle

  “I’m sorry I suggested we stay,” Nora said. “I didn’t realize it would be that upsetting for you.”

  He turned to her, but didn’t say anything. In the dim light of the garage she couldn’t read his expression. She took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with.

  “Look, we don’t have to…I mean, the mood’s kind of broken, right? You’ve got a lot on your mind and I—”

  His mouth was hot and urgent, and she was thrust back against the car door by the force of his body. She tried to raise her arms to wrap them around his neck, but the space was too cramped. She was trapped, unable to move. The armrest dug into her back but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about any of it. She just wanted more. More of him.

  His hands cupped her face and he raised his gaze to hers.

  “If I did anything to make you think I’d changed my mind, then I’m sorry,” he said. “You are the best part of today.”

  She nodded, unsure whether or not she could form a coherent sentence.

  He helped her out of the car and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her so close she found it difficult to walk.

  The lobby lights were blinding. She half-closed her eyes to block out the glare, trusting Hunter to lead her.

  “Mr. Graham. Miss Cross.” She opened her eyes wide. Mark, the night manager, was scurrying toward them. Hunter loosened his grip, but didn’t release her.

  “I’m glad I caught you,” Mark said, looking very pleased with himself. “I’ve got some wonderful news. I’ve been able to secure a room for Miss Cross.” He turned his attention to Nora. “I took the liberty of having all your belongings removed from Mr. Graham’s suite this afternoon, and placed in your new room. Come with me, I’ll take you.”

  Nora felt as if the floor had dropped out beneath her. She looked up at Hunter. He seemed just as bewildered. They followed Mark along one of the hallways that branched out from the main lobby. He stopped in front of a door halfway down the hall.

  “It’s a single room, of course.” He slid the keycard into the reader and held the door open for her to enter. “But I understood that would be satisfactory.” He looked to Hunter to confirm the statement.

  Without thinking, Nora stepped forward and Hunter was forced to relinquish his hold on her.

  “Yes, I think you’ll be quite happy here. It’s a lovely room with a nice view of the gardens,” Mark said.

  Nora could hear Mark talking as she walked further into the room. There was a king-sized bed with nightstands on either side, a large desk against the opposite wall, and at the far end a small round table with two chairs. Her clothes had been hung in the closet that opened to her right, and across from it she could see her toiletries laid out on the bathroom counter. She returned to the doorway.

  “Very good. Then I’ll wish you a good stay and a good night,” Mark said, handing her the keycard and turning away.

  Nora’s gaze flew to Hunter, still standing out in the hallway.

  “If you don’t mind, Mr. Graham, there is a small matter I need to discuss with you.” Mark turned and began to head back down the hall.

  Unbelievably, Hunter followed him. Nora watched, dumbfounded, as the door swung closed.

  Chapter 15

  Whoever said a cold shower could cool your ardor didn’t know what they were talking about. Ten minutes of standing under freezing cold water had turned Nora’s skin blue, but it had done nothing to dampen her desire.

  “Agh!” She allowed free rein to her frustration, not caring whether or not the running water covered her scream.

  She turned off the faucet and sat on the edge of the tub. This was so unfair.

  They had come so close. Hunter had wanted her—seemingly as much as she wanted him. She still wasn’t quite sure what went wrong.

  Dammit, I should never have agreed to stay for dinner. This was her fault.

  It wasn’t that she was in love with Hunter. She was too smart to allow that to happen. But she had made up her mind, made a decision that she would allow herself some pleasure—and why not? Then having done so, she had set out to try to make it happen. Not that she would have seduced him or done anything quite so bold. She’d just decided that she wouldn’t pass up any opportunities that came her way.

  She knew he found her attractive. He had said as much, demonstrated it, too. He wasn’t a saint, and given his reputation it wasn’t unreasonable to expect him to make a move on her while they were sharing the same suite.

  Only now they weren’t.

  She inhaled deeply and willed away the threatening tears. No, she wouldn’t cry for him. It was only sex. She shouldn’t allow herself to feel this much anguish over one night.

  She stood and towel-dried her hair. It was probably for the best, anyway. What was the point of one night of mindless sex?

  She thought about Taylor and wondered what her relationship with Hunter had been like. Was she in love with him? Or had the sex been that good? Whatever the reason, the woman was still crazy about him, although he seemed to have little interest in renewing what they’d had.

  Nora rubbed the condensation off the mirror and stared at the face looking back at her. She tried to be objective, but all she could see was a woman about to turn thirty-five. Tiny lines were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes—he’d called their color café noir when they’d first met—and there were more lines just above her top lip.

  Her age had never bothered her—in fact, she’d always felt she’d accomplished a lot while still quite young—at least professionally. But dammit, it would be nice to experience fantastic sex at least once before I’m thirty-five.

  What was it about turning thirty-five that disturbed her so much? It was just a number.

  Her lips were a rosy pink and slightly swollen. She touched them gently, remembering the feel of Hunter’s mouth as it grazed hers, and then the hard urgency with which he had kissed her in the garage.

  Stop it.

  She turned away, frustrated. This was getting her nowhere.

  Forget it. Forget him. None of it mattered anyway. Tomorrow morning she’d be back in her real world, and all this would be nothing but a memory.

  She heard a noise and paused to listen more intently. Was that banging?

  She slipped on a robe—the scratchy generic one provided by the hotel, not at all like the luxurious plush one she’d borrowed from Hunter—and opened the bathroom door.

  Yes, someone was definitely pounding on her door.

  “Who’s there?” she called, tightening the belt of the robe.

  “Room service.”

  What? “I didn’t—”

  She stepped up on her toes to peek out the peephole. Her knees felt like jelly and she leaned against the door, closing her eyes and murmuring a heartfelt “thank goodness.” Then she looked again to make absolutely certain her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

  Hunter was magnificent in a fresh pair of dark khaki pants and a red golf shirt. His hair looked damp, as if he had just stepped out of a shower, too. In one hand he balanced a platter, covered by a large silver lid. He was impatiently shuffling from one foot to the other.

  She pulled open the door and stepped back, waiting.

  Hunter’s eyes widened and then he dropped his gaze to take in her bare toes. Slowly he raised his head. His appraisal of her was slow and intense. She felt exposed, and rubbed her palms against the fabric of the robe just to assure herself she had actually put one on. When he got to her face he paused, and then broke into his seductive, heart-stopping grin.

  “I see you’re expecting me,” he said.

  He stepped past Nora and put the platter down on the desk. She still hadn’t moved when he turned back to her.

  “Close the door, Nora, and come here.”

  She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook as she closed the door. Her initial relief at seeing him had turned to panic.

  Was she really going to do this? Would she disappoint him? She was too
old for him. After all the models and starlets, how could he possibly be attracted to her?

  Her steps were slow and unsteady.

  His hand cupped her face. His thumb slid down her cheekbone and brushed her sensitive lips.

  “Breathe,” he whispered, and lowered his head.

  His kiss was gentle, undemanding, and she felt all her reservations melting away. Her belly ached with an overwhelming want. She wrapped her arms around him and arched her hips to him.

  “That’s better,” he said, pulling her closer.

  One hand held her head steady as he deepened the kiss. His other hand cupped her bottom, drawing her in tighter. Nora could feel his penis straining against the confines of his pants, and she began moving her hips in a circular motion, an imitation of some primeval dance she had no idea she even knew. She felt him groan deep into her throat and continued the ritualized rhythm, savoring the sense of power it gave her.

  His mouth left hers, and she could feel his lips and tongue trail down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, stopping just above her shoulder to explore more thoroughly the sensitive ridge of her collarbone. Now it was her turn to moan as his ministrations sent shivers of excitement surging through her body.

  He was moving again. His hands, warm and confident, slid the bathrobe down over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She heard his breath hitch as he gazed down at them. One hand cupped each breast, his thumbs lightly stroking, teasing.

  Her nipples were straining in delicious agony and she wanted more. She didn’t want him to be gentle. She didn’t need him to be gentle. She grabbed his head with one hand and pushed it down to her breast. She used her other hand to press his palm firmly on her breast, encouraging his fingers to work it more vigorously.

  He complied.

  His mouth was hot as he covered her nipple and suckled. His tongue flicked at the peak, and then pressed it firmly against the roof of his mouth. His hand kneaded her other breast, his fingers rolling the nipple between his thumb and fingers, pinching it and releasing it to the rhythm of his mouth.

  Oh, this was so much better than she had ever imagined. She felt a flood of dampness between her legs, and an overpowering need to have him there. Now.

  She reached for his pants and unbuckled his belt. Then she fumbled with the button and zipper, moaning as the intensity of his mouth and hands grew. She was frantic as she pushed the pants and boxers down over his hips.

  She heard a sharp intake of breath as she grabbed his penis—it was huge—and tried to direct it between her legs.

  Suddenly everything stopped, and Hunter stepped back.

  “Whoa, honey, slow down,” he said.

  “But I thought...” Nora was stricken.

  “It’s not a race to the finish. It’s a journey. Take it slowly. Enjoy the ride. There’s no rush. We’ve got all night.”

  She felt stupid. Humiliated and stupid. She pulled the bathrobe back up over her shoulders, and turned away. She wouldn’t let Hunter see her cry.

  She felt the heat of him behind her. He grasped her shoulders, and turned her around to face him. He wore the same bemused expression as he had the night they had first met—when she had consistently screwed up and he’d acted as though she hadn’t done anything wrong. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

  “Look, Nora, I know you like to be in control. And you’ve got this go-get-’em, results-oriented approach to everything you do. But I’ll make you a deal.” His voice was gentle and his eyes kind. She looked closely for any signs of pity—she wouldn’t be pitied—but saw none.

  “What?” She didn’t mean to sound petulant.

  “You can be in charge in the boardroom, but please, let me be in charge in the bedroom. I know this will be difficult for you, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

  He probably will, too, dammit.

  Hunter stepped closer. She tried to back up, but was pressed against the desk and couldn’t go anywhere.

  She glanced down and gasped. He had stepped out of his pants—they lay in a heap behind him—and she could tell by his arousal that her aggressiveness hadn’t dampened his desire at all.

  He took another step and his thighs pressed against hers. His hands loosened the belt of her robe and he splayed it open. His gaze never left her face. The grin had disappeared, leaving his face a mask of tension. His jaw was set and she could see the throbbing of a pulse at his temple. His lovely lavender eyes had darkened to the indigo blue she had seen this afternoon.

  “Say ‘yes,’ Nora,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “Yes.”

  She had barely uttered the word when his mouth crashed down onto hers with an urgency that erased any memory of the gentle caresses of a few moments ago. His hands pushed at her robe, removing it completely. He lifted his head only long enough to remove his own shirt. Then he was kissing her again, his tongue playing with hers, his hands kneading her shoulders as he pressed against her, pinning her to the desk.

  She could feel the cold metal lid of the serving platter against her arching back. The contrast to his heat was startling.

  His mouth traveled down her body. She trembled as his tongue and teeth alternately licked and nipped her. He was descending with deliberate slowness, and the anticipation of his next movement was excruciating. She cupped his head to urge him to move faster. He reached up, grabbed each of her wrists and pinned them to the edge of the desk. He didn’t alter his pace.

  When he reached her lower abdomen she was ready to shout with joy at the anticipated relief. Although he had released her hands, she kept them clutched on the edge of the desk to ground herself in this delicious torture. It took every ounce of self-restraint for Nora to remain still.

  But Hunter didn’t stop. He continued down along the inside of one thigh, past her knee to the arch of her foot. Then he began the long journey up her other leg.

  As he reached the top of her inner thigh, all it took was one quick flick of his tongue on her clit for her to explode in ecstasy. Her breath came in short whispery gasps, and he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his cheek against her abdomen while the spasms rippled through her body.

  Her knees were weak, and he helped her slide down to the floor in front of him. He reached out a hand and tucked her hair behind one ear. He kissed her gently and she felt another shudder clench at her abdomen. He pulled her onto his lap and held her close, not speaking. Time seemed to have stopped, and she couldn’t say how long they stayed that way.

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. She wasn’t sure she could stand, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and almost carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and stretched out beside her.

  She turned to him. His face was so beautiful. She reached out and stroked his cheek, smiling at the sensation of the soft bristles of his five o’clock shadow. She rubbed her hands along his chest and abdomen, finally fulfilling the longing she had felt when she had watched him sleep the other morning.

  Nora bit her lip as she ran her hand over his hip and skimmed his penis with her fingers. It jumped to attention, and she took it more boldly in her hand. It felt like velvet over steel—soft and warm at the same time as it was hard and unyielding.

  She felt emptiness inside of her, and desperately wanted him to fill it.

  Condom, she thought, and started to roll off the bed to go get one from her toiletry bag in the bathroom.

  “Where are you going?” Hunter said, grabbing her.

  “Condom.”

  “Not yet.”

  “But—”

  Hunter had rolled on top of Nora, his hips holding her in place. “Not yet,” he repeated.

  He raised her arms over her head, and held them with one hand. “Now, will you be a good girl and keep these up here, out of my way, or do I need to resort to more drastic measures?”

  Drastic? Like what? Nora was tempted to ask, but wasn’t sure she was ready to know the answer.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Okay
what?”

  “Okay, I’ll be good.”

  “Chicken.” Hunter chuckled as he released her arms.

  He paused to give her a deeply passionate kiss, which reverberated throughout Nora’s outstretched body, before he slid down on the bed. He nudged open her legs and she felt his tongue run the length of her.

  Her hips reared up in surprise. She couldn’t possibly—not a second time.

  He grasped her hips and began gently sucking on her clitoris while his tongue stroked its underside.

  Oh God, she moaned. What was he doing to her?

  Her arms remained above her head as promised, but she was incapable of stopping her body from arching with every thrust of his tongue.

  The emptiness inside her ached. “Please,” she whimpered. “I need you inside me.”

  His thumbs moved to massage her labia and she shifted her hips. Suddenly she felt him slide a finger inside her and begin stroking the interior wall.

  “Oh.” The sensation was incredible. She could feel the tension building in her with each lash of his tongue, every movement of his finger. She stiffened suddenly, time was suspended. Then her body vibrated and collapsed in a succession of shudders she thought would never stop.

  Hunter waited until she was still before raising his head. “Now, we get the condom,” he said. He stood and rummaged in the pocket of his pants, holding up the small plastic square as if in triumph.

  Nora watched him open the package and deftly roll the latex sheath down over the length of his penis. She was propped up on her elbows unable to take her eyes off him as he strode back to her. Her breath was coming in short gasps as she imagined what it would be like to have him inside her—all of him.

  He stopped beside the bed and grabbed Nora by the hips, pulling her closer to the edge, and turning her onto her stomach. He grabbed a couple of the pillows and placed them under her thighs. He ran his hands over her hips and cupped her bottom. She felt his lips kissing the small of her back. Then his mouth was next to her ear.

  “You are so beautiful.” His voice was deep, husky.

  Nora shivered in anticipation. She felt his penis nudging the opening of her vagina, slowly gaining access, each thrust going deeper and deeper. She raised her hips, anxious to receive him, savoring the sensation each movement brought. Then, with one final push, he was fully immersed in her. She felt him shudder and go still for a moment before he began the rhythmic pulsing.