by Jill Monroe
The cool air of her apartment did nothing to soothe her need for his touch. And once again he was taking too long. Miriam opened her mouth to demand he touch her. She was done being teased.
She sucked in a breath when she opened her eyes and saw his expression. Jeremy looked at her body with intense appreciation. She watched as his breathing grew more irregular. Spotted his pulse beating wildly at his temple. Witnessing the effect she had on him made her feel strong.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
Miriam reached for his hands and unhurriedly placed them on her breasts. “Then touch me,” she urged.
She didn’t need to hide her lonely desire for him behind the quick, all-consuming passion. Miriam suddenly wanted to savor this, too.
She’d been imagining, dreaming, thinking of being with him as much as he had dreamed of being with her.
He kissed her then. Carnal and hungry. She opened for his tongue, the taste of him so memorable. So wanted. She twisted her hips until she cradled his erection. Her body demanding more from him. Offering more.
One quick weekend. It should have been nothing more, but she’d missed this. Missed him. The slightly rough texture of his cheek. His familiar masculine scent. The heat of his breath on her skin.
His lips left hers, running down her neck, down the swell of her breasts, stopping to give an erotic kiss to her breasts. Then lower still.
He sank to his knees, his fingers seeking out the waistband of her skirt and finding the zipper. The swish of her zipper being pulled down would be branded on her memory as one of the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. Her thighs began to tremble.
“You make me feel so good, Jeremy.” He pulled her stockings, panties and skirt down her legs all in one move. The man had talent. She stood before him naked. Warmth flooded between her legs. Miriam grew slicker with wanting. Jeremy’s fingertips lightly guided up her calves.
“The whole weekend together, and not once did I kiss you here. How could I have missed that?”
The idea of his mouth, his tongue on the most intimate part of her body, made her knees shake in delicious expectation. It was hard for her to swallow. “We were busy doing other things,” she reminded him, desperately trying not to sound so…desperate.
She watched as he smiled. “True.”
Then he looked at the curls between her thighs. “I’m not missing this time.”
He tenderly gripped her thighs, worked his shoulders between her legs. Then she felt the warmth of his mouth. He stroked her with his tongue, gently at first, as though she was fragile. As though he wanted to tease her and make her ache for more.
She shivered as he caressed and explored her with his tongue, seeming to want to learn every curve of her, the taste of her.
Her head fell back, and she moaned at how good he felt. How good he made her feel. Her knees wanted to buckle, but no way would she allow herself to break contact.
He circled her clit with his mouth, getting so close, but never fully finding the source of her most intense pleasure. Then he was there, licking her, sucking her. The thrilling pressure inside her deepened. She wanted…she needed…
Miriam’s orgasm rushed her. An amazing release that went on and on and on. Jeremy saw that it did.
Finally, the pounding subsided. Her wobbly legs could hold her no longer, and she began to sink to the tile floor. Jeremy stood, bringing her up with him. Then he did something no man had ever done before. He swooped her up into the strength of his arms.
The sensation of being carried by him should have been corny. But she almost reveled in how cherished he made her feel. No one had ever made her feel so naughty and prized all at the same time. Naughty because all she could think of was that she wanted to give him as good as he was giving her.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked, his voice gruff and tight with need.
“Down the hall, second door.”
Jeremy didn’t set her down when he reached her bedroom, he carried her all the way to the bed. Her breathing hitched as he let her body slide down the firmness of his until she sat on the mattress.
“Take my clothes off me,” Jeremy told her. Miriam scooted to the head of the bed, and snapped on the bedside light. She wanted to see all of him.
Something in his eyes flickered for just a moment. Something wanting and almost vulnerable flashed there before it vanished. Replaced by desire.
Miriam slipped off the bed and took a leisurely tour around him. If he thought she was simply going to remove his clothes, he was wrong. She planned to enjoy this. Halting at his back, she tugged the T-shirt from his jeans. She ran her hand across his shoulders, loving the play of his muscles under her fingertips.
She went up his back with her breasts, her nipples hardening against the smooth heat of his skin.
“I like the way you take off a man’s clothes.”
“Just wait,” she said. Her voice full of naughty promise. Facing him, her fingers went straight to the button of his jeans. The bulge behind the zipper made it a bit awkward to tug the thing down. This sweet, sexy guy wanted her and the knowledge did strange things to her heartbeat.
Zipper dispensed with, she smoothed her hands down his back, past the waistband of his jeans to cup his perfect muscular butt.
His eyes closed as she squeezed and pulled him in to her. He sucked in a breath. She saw his hands fist at his sides. And she understood. Understood he was doing everything in his power not to yank her up against him, toss her on the bed and sink inside her.
Oh, that didn’t sound half-bad.
Miriam shoved those jeans down his thighs, dropping to her knees. She followed the path of his clothes with her mouth. Her tongue.
Her hands touched him everywhere, but not where she knew he desperately needed her contact. He growled as she purposefully missed his cock.
Then, when she sensed he’d suffered beyond what any healthy man could take, she wrapped her fingers around his penis and drew him to her mouth.
A more gentle woman might tease him. Draw her tongue around his base. Stroke to the tip of him. Circle the head of his cock. Instead she drew him fully into her hot, wet mouth.
He groaned, his whole body shaking with the force of his need.
His hand sank into her hair, twining it gently around his fingers. The soft glide of him inside her mouth felt amazing. With an aching sound, he pulled himself from her mouth.
“On the bed,” he said, reaching for a condom.
She glanced up, confused. “I wanted to give you pleasure this way.”
He stopped what he was doing, his blue eyes almost black. “You will, but on that long drive here, all I could think of was feeling your hard nipples against my chest, the warmth of your breath against my neck, and those sexy little sounds you make as I drive into you.”
She swallowed, her whole body shivering at his words. She wanted that, too. With a nod, Miriam stood and crawled up onto the bed. She draped herself across the mattress, parting her legs slightly. “What are you waiting for?”
Miriam watched as he ripped open the condom package with his teeth, then tugged the latex down his shaft. Seeing his hand on his cock, stroking himself, made her breath hitch. That hard piece of equipment would soon be in her, giving her pleasure.
He didn’t even realize how sexy he looked preparing himself for her.
Task done, he joined her on the bed. He gripped her hips and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. His fingers splayed at her hips, and she straddled him, her dark hair falling forward like a curtain.
“So this is how it’s going to be,” she said, breathless.
He nodded. “All I can think of now is you riding me, as I watch your breasts. You have amazing breasts. It’s what kept me awake instead of exiting the highway and finding a motel to grab some sleep.”
“Let me see if I can reward you.” Miriam found the base of him, teased herself with the tip of his cock, then she decided to take pity on the poor man. Take pity on both of them. He
’d driven all the way up to New York for her, after all.
She positioned him where he’d give her the most pleasure, then let gravity take over.
Jeremy sounded breathless as he fully seated himself inside her. “Miriam, you’re amazing. Amazing.”
She bit her lip. No, he was the amazing one. He didn’t just do amazing things to her body, he made her feel amazing. As if she was more than a head of a multinational company. More than a reputation or money.
No, Jeremy made her feel like an object of desire. She would have slapped the face of any man who’d suggested she was such a thing, but Jeremy’s objectification made her feel powerful. Safe enough to want to let her guard down a bit and be nothing but a sexual being in bed.
She lifted herself, then sank down on him again.
His eyes drifted shut, and she took selfish satisfaction in watching his face as he fought the passion. Then his eyes met hers, and there was that touch of something she’d spotted in him earlier. A vulnerability. “I can’t hold out much longer. I’ve wanted you too long.”
“Then don’t hold out,” she whispered and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see that unmasking of his emotions. She rubbed her breasts against his chest, just like he wanted, ground her body against his hardness.
He groaned again, then grabbed her hips, pushing himself into her over and over, until her muscles tensed around him. Until her climax overtook her, and she moaned with the force of the pleasure. Jeremy’s orgasm hit him with force. His whole body tensed and shook. Feeling his reaction to her generated a second wave of pleasure through her body.
Afterward she collapsed against him, her body covering him.
“As good as you remember?” she asked.
He nodded, his eyes still closed. “Better,” he said, smiling in satisfaction.
Once she regained her breath, she slipped off him, took care of the condom, then snapped off the lights. She’d tug the covers up later. Right now she was still too hot.
Jeremy drew her close, resting her head against his chest. His steady heartbeat lulling her into sleep. “I’d hoped… I’d wanted to make love to you all night long, but after that drive, I’m sorry. I have to get some sleep.”
She settled even more closely against him. “Jeremy, it’s okay. Believe me, I got my money’s worth. I came twice.”
He gave her a tired smile.
“How long did it take you to drive?”
“Over twenty-four hours.”
Miriam tried to picture the map in her mind, thinking of a logical place for him to stop. Indiana? Ohio? “Where’d you take your break?”
“I didn’t. I drove straight through. Thought I might cash in at Philadelphia, but then…I just kept going.”
Then, once he’d arrived, he’d had to check into a hotel. Find where she worked, and then she’d made him wait while she talked to her mother. The man must have been in agony, but he’d never let her know it.
She kissed his cheek. “Rest.”
His heavy breathing was her only answer.
Her eyes began to drift shut, too. Might as well get some sleep now, because once Jeremy got his second wind, she suspected there wouldn’t be much time for sleep. Nine or ten times.
She’d just about joined him in rest when her body jerked and her mind sent off the warning sequence. In fact, it had probably been sending out the signal and flares all along, only to be drowned out by lust and desire.
Jeremy had driven all the way from Oklahoma just to see her. He’d mentioned he’d thought of nothing else. He’d deprived himself in order to be with her sooner.
Had he read more into their weekend together? Was Jeremy feeling more for her than just passion? If she weren’t careful, she’d shift into full-blown panic. And she hadn’t panicked since, well, she couldn’t think of a time when it had happened.
Actually, she could think of the last time she’d panicked. In a bed. In Oklahoma. With Jeremy.
CHAPTER NINE
IAN NUDGED HER HAND. “Ready to begin your observations? Check out this guy. He’s going to try and approach that girl sitting at the bar.”
The bar was more brightly lit than the rest of the club. Blue neon and lots and lots of bottles of alcohol backlit in front of a mirror. Dozens of high-backed chairs surrounded the serving area. Two women sat together talking over their glasses as a man made his way toward the pair.
Twenty-first-century man performing his mating ritual. This was exactly what Ian had wanted her to see. She settled back against the cushion of the couch to better monitor the situation.
Ian leaned closer to whisper into her ear so she could hear him above all the interesting noises in the bar. “She’s going to blow him out of the water. He didn’t do his legwork beforehand,” his tone slightly disbelieving.
Ava narrowed her eyes. Prime research, and she’d worn an outfit with no place to hide a notebook. Thank goodness he’d suggested the purse. “What do you mean?”
“Watch.”
The music thumped as she noted the predatory male approach the first woman and say something to her. The second female leaned over and spoke to the hunter. The man glanced down at the first woman he’d marked as his prey. She shook her head, and the man left. His shoulders stooped. His walk slower. Defeated.
“How did you know?” she asked, incredulous. And impressed. She was the one who was supposed to be the expert.
“First, look at the way he’s dressed. He’s a slob. You don’t dress like that to meet a woman. Women notice crap like shoes. You dress nice for women. Clean, pressed clothes. Nothing in the grill. Comb your hair. It’s a respect thing. This is war. You can’t give a woman anything that will make her shoot you down before you open your mouth.”
“This is fascinating stuff.” War?
“Now, look at their clothes. They’re in work clothes. They’re here to unwind from a day at the office. Contrast that against your outfit.” His gaze angled downward, stopped at her cleavage for a moment before working its way back toward her eyes. “You’re dressed for having fun. You’re the one men approach. Or at least men paying attention.”
“How come you don’t go over there and explain to that man why he failed?”
Ian shot her an incredulous look.
“In every culture, it’s the responsibility of the more knowledgeable to teach the rest. That way their traditions and mores are passed on to future generations.”
“In this culture, men don’t inform other men how to score. Why give another man the advantage in battle?”
“Battle? War? Scoring? It’s almost as if women are the enemy. There’s a study in this. I know it.” Ava opened her petite sequined purse and pulled out a small notebook.
“I can’t believe you brought that.”
“I’m always prepared for research.” She squinted at the blank page. “Never mind. I can barely see.” Ava replaced the pad in her purse and scanned the room.
“Not much research here anyway. Just your typical bar scene,” he stated matter-of-factly.
She scanned the room. “I almost feel sorry for men. It’s so dark in here. How can you even see the subtle cues and hints a woman drops?”
“Men adapt. And that’s what the beer is for,” he told her, lifting up his bottle as if making a toast. “False courage.”
“So how did you learn?”
Ian shrugged. “I’m a reporter. My main job is to study people, look for weaknesses so I can get the information I want.”
She’d have to keep that in mind. Was he hunting for her weakness even now? Ava shivered at the thought.
“But the main reason he failed earlier is because he didn’t take into account the cockblocker.”
Ava nearly choked on her appletini. “The what?”
He grinned at her. “Cockblockers are women whose main job is to block, or prevent, any man from infiltrating the group.”
“And women are aware of these roles?”
Ian leaned closer as if he were going to impart a big
secret. “Ordinarily women aren’t around to hear it. I’m betraying man talk here.” Now this sounded very intriguing. “So are all men thwarted by the…cockblocker?”
“No, that’s when you bring in your wingman. The wingman approaches the women, paying attention to the cockblocker, buying her a drink, chatting, whatever. Now here is how the scenario is played out. Once the wingman is in place, the other man approaches and acts surprised. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here.’ Then the wingman introduces the two women and invites his friend to join them all.” He shifted away from her, his smile very satisfied. “Pure gold I just shared with you.”
“And you’ve tried this?” Ava asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism in her voice.
Ian shrugged. “Me? No, never. I prefer meeting women on my own.”
“Care to share how? Because this I’ve got to hear.” She leaned closer.
“Women don’t go for a man who looks like a loser. He has to look like someone who’s worth her time. Like I said, it’s a respect thing. A man’s got to have a game. A plan. You buy them a drink, never ask. You don’t feed them a corny line. You say hello, smile, ask them if they’re having a good time. Move on.”
“Move on?”
“Women are expecting you to hang around. Show them you’re interested then go back to your table. Or play pool. Just something else. It makes the woman curious. Confuses her. It’s a mystery thing. All women love a mystery.”
Ava couldn’t help it. She shook her head. “This is horrible. It’s like battle plans, miscues and deliberate confusion. There’s nothing sensual about it.” She scowled. “Wait a minute. You’re just messing with me like you did with the knights and the flower garland. I should have known. This sounds too unbelievable.”
“Really? You’ll never find out sitting here with me. There’s only one way for you to truly understand North American mating customs—you have to experience them. You go up to the bar.”
“And do what?”
“Wait.”
“For what?”
“To be approached. Run a tab, I’ll take care of that later.” Then his expression hardened. “Don’t worry, if anything weird happens, I’ll step in,” he assured her, his voice a little gruff.
