The Dixon Brothers Trilogy: Hot Brits, Books 1-3

by Anna Durand

"We were interrupted then. I won't let that happen again."

  "Better not, or I might have to throw your phone out the window." She leans her hips against the window frame. "I hope you're not fibbing about showing me heaven, because I'm so turned on I can hardly stand it."

  "You won't be disappointed." I kneel before her, slipping my fingers under the hem of her skirt. "I guarantee it."

  Someone knocks on the door.

  The nasal voice of Marla, one of the paralegals, says, "Elena, are you in there? We need to leave for the law library if you want to get that research done today."

  "Fuck," I snarl under my breath.

  Elena throws her head back and whimpers, though not in the sexy way I'd planned to make her utter a noise like that. She calls out, "I'm coming."

  But dammit, she isn't.

  She bends down to kiss me. "Sorry, duty calls."

  "Forget the law library. I planned to lure you into every dark corner on this floor so I can kiss you and tease you all afternoon."

  "Believe me, I'd much rather sneak into dark corners with you." She straightens and smooths her skirt and blouse. "The law library is musty, and the pop in the vending machine is warm. You smell and taste so much better."

  With that, she leaves me.

  I sit on the floor for five minutes before I get back to work. My mind taunts me with visions of Elena naked, spread out on my bed, writhing and moaning and calling my cock the most beautiful in the world. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen or ever will see. She's more than that, though. She's clever, playful, passionate, determined...and all mine tonight.

  The second I get to my hotel room, I'm turning off my damn mobile and telling the desk clerk to hold all calls. No one is going to interrupt us. Nothing will get in the way of my plans for Elena. I will worship her body all night.

  Chapter Eight

  Elena

  The elevator rises toward the nineteenth floor, taking me to my secret assignation with the boss's ex-husband. Yep, this is the same elevator in which Chance ravished me a week ago. Why do I keep thinking of him as my boss's ex? He's my... What? Lover sounds kind of sleazy, for some reason. We have to sneak around so Raisa won't find out. Maybe sleazy is the word for it.

  Being with Chance doesn't feel sordid. It makes me feel so good in so many ways, despite the fact I promised to help Raisa get him back.

  I glance down at my dress to make sure it didn't get wrinkled on the cab ride to the hotel. I had to go home to change clothes. I'm wearing my red dress, the nicest thing I own, the one I bought for an office Christmas party two years ago. The firm I'd worked for then had rented a ballroom for the party and invited everyone to dress up. Chance texted me earlier to say "wear something special," so here I am in my red dress.

  The elevator stops. I get out and, following Chance's instructions, turn left and walk to the door at the end of the hall. It has a sign on it that says "Presidential Suite."

  I'm going to have sex in a suite at a luxury hotel. For a moment, I just stand there while I let that fact soak into my psyche. Until tonight, the fanciest place I've done the deed was at a Motel 6 in Pittsburgh.

  Straightening, rolling my shoulders back, I knock on the door.

  It swings open instantly, like he's been standing right on the other side waiting for me.

  Warmth rushes through me at the sight of him, and I have the dumbest urge to fan myself with my hand.

  Chance is wearing nothing but a towel.

  I do raise my hand to fan myself but stop short of my face. Then I wave at him like an idiot to cover the fact I'd been about to fan myself. Honestly, can anyone blame me? He looks hotter than hot in a white towel that seems like it'll fall off at any second. I let my gaze wander over his naked chest, admiring the lines of all those muscles while I imagine running my tongue over every single one of them.

  "Good evening, Elena."

  When he smiles at me, the seductive slant of his lips makes me want to throw myself at him.

  "Uh, hi," I say. So lame, Elena. "Guess I'm overdressed. I thought 'special' meant formal, but I guess I should've worn a towel."

  "I'd thought to feed you first, but then I realized I can't wait one more second to make love to you." He offers me his hand, and when I take it, he guides me into the room. "You are stunning, Elena. Even more beautiful than when you wear a conservative business suit. I love that tight skirt you wore the other day, but this dress is even better."

  "Thank you." I watch him shut the door, unable to tear my focus away from his chest. I know what his dick looks like---and feels like, and tastes like---but seeing all of him makes me so aroused I fight to keep from tearing that towel off. "I love you in a suit, but terrycloth is definitely the sexiest thing I've seen you in."

  He whips off the towel, tossing it away.

  We are standing in a living room. A large, curved sofa takes up most of the space, with various tables and some chairs arranged around it. I can see a doorway that leads into the bedroom. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city, and the lights of countless buildings and streetlights twinkle like stars, overshadowing the sky. Sliding glass doors open onto a balcony where a table and chairs wait, but we're not going out there.

  Chance takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.

  An enormous bed is the centerpiece of the room. A window offers a view of the city, but the semitransparent drapes obscure the vista. Chance turns a dial on the wall beside the door, and the lighting inside the room dims to a sensual glow that seems to burnish his skin, turning him into a golden statue of a sex god.

  Damn, he's gorgeous.

  I notice the covers are already pulled back on the bed.

  He comes up behind me and unties the bow I'd carefully tied earlier, the one that keeps my halter dress from falling down to my waist. He lets the straps go. They slide down my body until all of me from the waist up is bared to him. He slips his fingers inside the fabric and pushes my dress over my hips. It flutters to the floor, a pool of silky scarlet at my feet.

  I thank heaven I decided against wearing pantyhose, but I'm even more grateful I had the audacity to ditch the underwear. Waiting for Chance to strip those off might've killed me. His fingers grazing my skin, the soft murmur of his breaths, and the scent of him... All those things have me so turned on I'm not sure I can walk the five feet to the bed. Weak with lust? I've never experienced this before, but I like it.

  He scoops me up and carries me to the bed, setting me down on the unbelievably soft sheets. They feel so good against my skin that I want to roll around on them, but I can't move. The vision of him entrances me. Sure, I've seen naked men before. But Chance is not like anyone else. He stands beside the bed, far enough away to grant me a full view of his nude body, and gives me time to absorb the sight.

  I drink it all in, every muscle and every bit of flesh, from his strong thighs to his washboard abs and those biceps that are well-defined but not outrageously big. His smooth chest begs to be kissed and licked, but my gaze keeps drifting back to that mouthwatering cock, framed by his lean hips.

  He saunters to the bed and climbs onto it, kneeling at my feet. While he explores my body with his gaze, he groans softly. "Elena, you are a work of art."

  If anyone else told me that, I'd think it was bullshit. But Chance isn't the kind of man who lays on the phony compliments so thick you need a shovel to dig your way out of it. I know he means it.

  I watch him while he keeps exploring me with his gaze, loving the way his lips part and his pupils grow larger. He skims his hands up and down his thighs like he's imagining doing that to me. I want him to touch me so badly the weight of it settles low in my belly and triggers a molten slickness between my thighs.

  He lowers onto his hands and knees, his face poised over mine. The blue of his eyes mesmerizes me, and I feel like I'm spiraling down into their shimmering depths, lost in an ocean of desire. He touches his lips to mine, tenderly at first, then with more pressur
e. When his tongue flicks out to taste my skin, I can't stop myself from opening for him, all but begging him to claim my mouth. He slips inside, oh so slowly, and the sensation of his tongue on mine elicits a soft moan from me.

  God, the flavor of him. It's indescribable, and it intoxicates me like no liquor on earth could. I give in to the feel of his tongue coiling around mine, teasing and tempting me with every leisurely swipe, until I'm clutching his arms and making sharp moans that verge on whimpering.

  I haven't experienced his body on mine yet. He holds himself up on his arms, hovering over me without touching me.

  He breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes.

  The intensity of his gaze burns into me, setting my body on fire, a tingling wave of heat that stuns me. I want him so much it almost scares me. But I can't be afraid when I'm with Chance. He's the best combination of everything---safety and risk, lust and tenderness, dirtiness and sweetness.

  "Elena," he murmurs, nuzzling my throat. His husky voice weaves my name into a seductive spell.

  "Yes," I whisper, raking my fingers through his hair. "Yes, Chance."

  We've said almost nothing, but it means everything.

  He kisses the corner of my mouth. "I love the way you say my name."

  "I love saying it."

  A breath rushes out of me when he drags his mouth along my throat, then kisses his way down to my breast. His tongue slides around the nipple, moistening my skin but never touching the stiff, aching peak. I bury my hands in his hair, but still his body lingers above mine, not touching me. I arch my back, desperate to reach him, but I can't quite get there.

  He flicks his tongue over my nipple, only once, so swiftly I wonder if I hallucinated the sensation. Then he blows a current of cool air across the peak.

  I gasp and arch my back again.

  "Elena," he says. "Beautiful, sweet, sexy Elena."

  Wetter. Hotter. Hungrier. I need him inside me but can't find my voice to tell him.

  He draws my nipple into his mouth and suckles it.

  A sharp cry erupts out of me. Helpless to stop myself, I grip his arms and throw my legs around his hips. He grunts but keeps his mouth sealed around my nipple, consuming it like he can't survive without the taste of my flesh on his tongue. Though I buck my hips, struggling to find his erection and take it inside my body, that part of him is still out of my reach. My moans become whimpers that tacitly beg him to take me.

  "Not yet," he growls, releasing my nipple.

  "Please, Chance."

  He crawls backward until his face is above my hips. Staring down at my mound, his eyes narrowed to slits, he utters a single syllable that he draws out into a throaty groan. "Fuck."

  I spread my thighs.

  Chance mutters something else, something I can't make out, and lowers himself onto his elbows. His face is directly above my sex, and I know I'm so aroused he must smell and see it. He gently separates my folds with two fingers, concentrating on the task like it's the most vital thing he's ever done. With my core exposed to him, he freezes.

  The air teases my swollen flesh and the wetness that coats it. I moan for the millionth time, but I don't even care if I sound desperate and pathetic. A coil inside me tightens more and more with everything he does to me.

  He shimmies backward a little more, and his head dives between my thighs. Groaning deeply, he glides his tongue up and down my cleft, first on one side, then the other.

  I clench the sheets so hard my fingers ache, but other parts of me ache even more.

  Up and down he strokes me, over and over until I'm gasping and writhing. He stops suddenly, his face between my legs but his tongue no longer touching me.

  "Please," I beg.

  He presses his mouth to my taut nub.

  "Oh God," I moan as I thrash and lift my hips.

  He pulls my clitoris into his mouth and suckles with the same strength and determination he'd applied to my nipple, only this time he's touching the most sensitive part of me. I cry out, my back flattening into the mattress, my entire body wrenching from the power of the climax that barrels through me. I want to scream, but I can't capture enough air to fill my lungs. So instead, I grip his head and ride out the pleasure, my heart pounding and my sex pulsating.

  When my release finally subsides, I lay limp on the bed, my chest heaving. I manage to mumble two words. "Oh, Chance."

  He raises up on his elbows to look at me. "You taste so good I could do that all night."

  I regard him with what must be a dazed expression. Though he's given me the best orgasm ever, I want more. I want all of him.

  Chance kisses my belly and rises to crouch over me again. He grabs something out of a drawer in the bedside table. I realize it's a condom when he rips the little packet open. Within seconds, he's rolled it on.

  Anticipation sizzles through me, and I can barely breathe. Just two words spill from my lips, those syllables infused with all the longing and lust I've stored up inside me for days.

  "Please, Chance."

  Chapter Nine

  Chance

  Elena Linwood is perfect. The moment she shed her clothing, she let go of all her inhibitions and gave in to the pleasure, every moan and every movement evidence of how she abandons herself to the moment. I couldn't watch her come, with my head between her legs, but now I have the chance to do just that. Witness her pleasure. Experience it. Feel it, see it, taste it, drown myself in the way she revels in sex. I got a glimpse of it that night in the elevator. But tonight...

  Elena gazes at me with a mesmerized expression, her lips parted and her every breath a whisper of unspoken desire. A faint blush colors her cheeks, but she's finally caught her breath. When she smiles, it's slightly crooked and entirely captivating. "Wow, Chance. That was... I mean, I don't know what else to say. You rock."

  I chuckle. "Thank you, love. I appreciate the compliment."

  "Oh no, that was not a compliment. It was unbridled adoration." She reaches out to stroke my cock with her hand. "I'm so ready for the rest."

  With all of her laid out beneath me, I sit back on my heels and take a moment to absorb the sight of her nude, aroused body. Her taut nipples jut up, their color darkened to a dusky shade of rose. I skim my hands down her belly, past her perfect little navel, and spread them over her hips. She has the most intoxicating combination of curves and muscles I've ever seen, soft in all the best places but with enough strength to make sex with her an aerobic workout, if I want that. With her clever mind and sense of humor, I have no doubts we could have the most inventive, energizing sex imaginable. And I can imagine many, many creative ways to make her gasp and moan.

  Right now, all I want is to touch her---with my hands, my mouth, everything---and then lose myself in the sweet release of making love to her.

  I rest my fingertips over her mound and wriggle my fingers to tease the curly hairs. When Elena sucks in a breath, I ease my fingers between her folds. It's like wrapping pure silk around my hand, silk drenched with warm, sweet honey. I know what she tastes like, and I'm hungry for more of her, but I pull my hand away. Time for me to prove to her I can do better than shoving her against an elevator wall. It's only been a week since that first night, but it feels like a lifetime of waiting and wanting her.

  "Chance," she murmurs. "Please, I want you so much."

  The way she catches her bottom lip with her teeth, it's the sweetest thing I've ever seen, and the most arousing. I straddle her body again and push inside her gradually, letting myself experience every inch of her hot flesh. It closes around me like her mouth had earlier today, only better because now she's wrapping around me completely, her body a glove that encloses my cock. I remember the sensation of her mouth and tongue on my skin, but having all of her molding to my length... The pleasure is indescribable.

  She grips my arms, lifting her hips into my thrusts.

  I can't look away from her even if I wanted to. The lust in her eyes makes me crave her even more
, but there's a tenderness behind the need, and it compels me to take all of her I can take. I lower my body onto hers little by little, waiting to see if my weight is too much. When her lips curve into a satisfied smile and she nods, I press all my weight down on her. God, the feel of her. All that smooth skin against mine, the rigidness of her nipples contrasting with the cushion of her breasts. I brace my arms at either side of her shoulders, my face above her head. The flowery scent of her hair makes me dip my head to draw in a lungful of it. She smells so good, from her hair to the musk of her sex.

  I pull my hips back and plunge deep.

  "Oh yes," she moans. "I love this."

  Christ, I love it too. She's so wet and warm and willing, and I want this feeling of intimacy and desire to stretch on forever, so I can memorize every second of it. She bends her knees, framing my hips with them, and wraps her arms around me, her every breath transformed into a moan or a tender little sound of enjoyment. I bury my face in her hair while my thrusts become faster and more powerful. Her name spills from my lips again and again, the tone of my litany growing harsher the more I say her name. Her neck arches, and she whispers into my ear the words that shatter my self-control.

  "Don't hold back. Please, I want all of you, all the way."

  I lever up with my arms, pull my hips back until I've almost left her body, and drive into her. Though the pace and strength of my thrusts increases, I still can't tear my gaze away from hers. Even the bouncing of her breasts can't make me break the tether linking our gazes. Her eyes are half closed, her expression the embodiment of desire. I watch in awe as her climax comes over her gradually, first her face tightening and her eyes squeezing shut, then her fingers clenching my arms until the nails dig into my skin, and finally her entire body freezes and her mouth falls open on a frozen breath.

  Her slick softness around my cock transforms into pulsing waves of muscle that grip and release me, over and over, while the breath she'd held rushes out of her as a strangled cry. She shouts my name even as her body relaxes for a moment only to tighten again with another wave of rippling spasms that push me over the edge with her. I thrust so hard and deep her body bounces, and I come apart inside her. It's like an electric jolt firing under my skin, making every muscle rigid while I throw my head back and shout.