by Leslie Kelly
He was a cop making lousy money. An ex-marine who’d seen too much ugliness. A good old boy who’d never set foot inside a college classroom. A bad-tempered divorcé who didn’t believe in love and had been estranged from his family for ten years.
God in heaven, why would she want him?
And more importantly, why should he get to have her?
“Stop thinking about it, Nick,” she said. “I see you analyzing it, but just stop.” She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead, she gave one tiny push. The dress gapped down, then fell to the floor.
“Oh, God,” he whispered, closing his eyes. It was his only defense. Because Melody looked like sin in silk.
Finally looking at her again, he let his gaze linger on the lacy, skimpy, strapless bra that pushed up from the bottom but did little to cover the top curves of her full breasts. Below that, a skimpier pair of panties barely covered the sexy triangle between her legs.
He wondered where the upset, nervous woman had disappeared to. Because standing in front of him was Eve incarnate.
“I’m not going to regret it,” she whispered, as if reading his mind. Her hand rose, shaking a little as she placed it on his chest. “If I’m going to start my life over, I want it to be now, with you, being as intimate as two people can get. I need you, Nick. I need this even if whatever we start doesn’t last any longer than until tomorrow.”
That was all it took. That certainty. And her nearly naked body swaying toward his, silently begging as much as promising.
He was lost.
Wrapping one arm around her waist, Nick tugged her tightly against him and covered her mouth with his. She tasted warm and earthy, like the rich red wine she’d been sipping, and like sweet, tempting woman.
He licked at her full, soft lips, groaning when she parted them and met his tongue with her own. The kiss deepened, giving and taking, lethargic desire making every stroke a sensual delight, until he felt sure he knew every intimate detail of her mouth. He could hardly wait to know every intimate detail of her body.
Kissing this woman needed to go on a list of his own—the list of the top-ten pleasures of his life. He’d say it was number one…but he had a feeling that spot was going to be taken pretty quickly by what was going to happen next.
Needing to taste even more of her, to breathe deeply and inhale her soft, flowery fragrance, he ran his mouth along her jaw, then to the most delectable skin below her ear. Sucking lightly on her neck, he nibbled her earlobe before growling, “Where, Mel?”
She moaned and arched her head back, silently inviting him to taste his way down her throat, until he pressed a wet, openmouthed kiss to the vulnerable hollow. “Here. Touch me here,” she replied, moaning deeply as she took his hand and laced her fingers through his, before pulling it to her breast.
He groaned again as her soft mound filled his palm, unable to resist pushing the bra down so he could slide his fingers over its taut tip. She hissed when he caught the sweet, pebbled nipple between two fingers and stroked it, rolled it, lightly squeezing it until she was almost shuddering.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he whispered.
“So have I,” she admitted. “Years.”
He stiffened, unable to help it. “I don’t want to hear about the years, Melody. Not the years I was just a nameless stranger to you, a picture in a magazine.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She cupped his face, running her fingers through his hair and holding him still so she could meet his eyes. Hers were clear, honest, genuine. “I meant, I’ve been dreaming of making absolutely incredible love—for the first time in my life—for years. I’ve fantasized about wanting someone as much as I want you right this very minute for as long as I can remember. Because I’ve never had that, Nick. Never.”
Even as he nearly groaned at the thought that this amazing woman had never had a decent sex life, a part of him—a big part—was damn glad he was going to be the first man to show her just how incredible it could be.
He’d show her that if it killed him.
Running his free hand up her back, he reached for the clasp of her bra and unfastened it. When it fell to the floor, he looked down at her beautiful breasts, heaving and tight, smooth and round and positively delicious.
Melody closed her eyes, arching her back in an unmistakable invitation. She wanted more…more of his hands, more of his mouth. More of everything.
Bending low, he held her around the waist with one arm while exploring one breast, then the other. Sampling here and nibbling there, he teased her, tasted her, licked her, blew on her…not taking one of those sensitive tips into his mouth until she was literally shaking in his arms and panting.
Only when she was frenzied, begging almost incoherently for more, did he cover her with his mouth and suck hard. She cried out, muttering, “Yes, yes, yes,” as he thoroughly suckled her. Twining her fingers in his hair, she held him tight to one breast, while with one hand he toyed with her other nipple, until she was whimpering and muttering needful things. Hungry things. Erotic things.
She tasted so sweet, her body a heady mix of a gentle fragrance and musky woman. And she felt so good, with her soft skin against his rough cheek.
“Where, Melody?” he growled against her breast, needing to know whether she wanted him here, now, or up against the wall in her living room? Or on the bed. Or the kitchen counter. Hell, he’d have her on the hard wood floor, as long as he got to have her.
She misunderstood again. This time, when she grabbed his hand, she was almost rough as she pushed it down her body…down over her soft belly. Then lower, until he was skimming the thin elastic waistband of her panties with the tip of his pinky.
“Here,” she cried as she arched her hips forward to take that intimate touch. “Please, Nick, touch me here.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. Closing his eyes, he dipped lower, tangling his fingers in her soft curls until he found her swollen clit and scraped a slow caress across it.
“Oh, Nick,” she cried, her weight growing heavier against his arm as her legs began to shake. “Please don’t stop,” she cried.
He pushed her panties down, letting them fall to the floor. Continuing to stroke her with his thumb—to tease and tempt and arouse her—he watched as her excitement grew. With her hair wildly tangled around her face, her lips apart and a flush of color splashed over her cheeks, she looked every inch a woman being pleasured.
He’d never seen her looking more beautiful. Never.
“Where?” he growled, not sure himself now what he was asking. Because he was having a grand old time letting her dictate where she wanted his touch next.
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she tilted toward him, pushing her pelvis into his palm, inviting him to explore deeper. When he did—when he sank his finger into her tight, wet channel and felt her clench around him—they both began to pant and heave at the intimacy of it.
“Oh, yes, there.”
Not really caring anymore if she wanted it on a soft bed or up against a hard wall, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her so she could wrap those amazing legs of hers around his waist. She rubbed against his cock, taking her pleasure as she had that night in Rosemary’s office. But this time only his clothes separated him from the hot, steamy place where he planned to lose himself for ages.
Carrying her to the couch, he continued kissing her, pausing only to let her push his shirt up and toss it to the floor. Her cool hands memorized his body while she bit and licked and sucked as much of his neck and shoulder as she could reach with her hungry mouth. As if she couldn’t get enough of him.
It was almost painful to let her go, let her drop to the couch so he could take off the rest of his clothes. But he didn’t plan to be separated from her for long.
Remembering the condom he’d tucked into his pocket—just in case—he grabbed it and tossed it onto the coffee table. Then he reached for his belt buckle.
“Uh-uh,” she muttered, her eyes devouring
him. “Not so fast. It’s my turn.”
MELODY REALIZED how crazy with need she was when she saw the way her own hand shook as she lifted it toward Nick’s slim hips. It was intense, overwhelming, this desire. She wanted Nick Walker so much she could hardly think, could barely breathe. Any questions that had been in her mind before tonight were completely gone, replaced entirely by hunger.
Because she was about to get what she’d wanted for years.
She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Nick that for the first time in her life, she was going to have some really fabulous sex.
The sex she’d had before her marriage had been uninspiring. The sex she’d had during her marriage had been boring.
This sex…well, she already knew it was going to be mind-blowing. Worth waiting a lifetime for.
Any lingering doubts about whether the sexual problems she’d had with Bill had been her fault—because she really was pretty but passionless, as he’d accused her of being—had completely evaporated. With Nick she felt not merely passionate but positively on fire. She needed him to do everything to her, with her. Once and then over and over again until the rest of the world ceased to exist.
She was shaking, flying, quivering, her entire body feeling like one giant nerve ending that sparked in reaction whenever he brushed the tips of his fingers over her. Or kissed her. Or licked her. “Oh, yes….”
Almost dying from the excitement, she reached for Nick’s belt. Unfastening it, she slid the black leather out of each loop of his jeans with agonizing slowness, to heighten the delicious anticipation. Hers and his. Funny how desperate hunger was suddenly making her want to slow things down, to draw everything out so she could savor it. After she’d unfastened the metal button of his jeans, she even stopped completely.
Scooting to sit on the edge of the couch, she parted her legs and tugged Nick closer, until he stood between them. The rough denim scraped against her inner thighs and she quivered in response. “I’ve wanted you between my legs since the first time I laid eyes on you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.” Then, as she brushed her bare breasts against his jean-covered hips, he groaned. “Melody…”
“Where?” she said, mimicking his sensual strategy. She leaned close, knowing her slow, steady breaths were touching his skin, increasing his tension. “Where, Nick?”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”
A half inch more and she was brushing her lips over the ropy muscles striping his flat stomach. His hiss of pleasure urged her on. Smiling, she licked ever so lightly, right beneath the top of his waistband. His hiss turned into a groan.
“Honey,” he said, his tone almost desperate. “You’ve got to let me…”
“I’m doing just fine.” And finally she began to unzip.
As she did so, she almost held her breath, a wealth of questions scurrying through her mind, the way they did the first time she did anything.
Did he wear boxers or briefs?
Boxer briefs. Black ones. Tight ones. Lovely.
Did he like the way she let the backs of her fingers slide oh so lightly against his erection as she continued to lower the zipper?
“You’re killing me here,” he muttered hoarsely.
Oh, yeah. He liked it. She’d venture to say he loved it.
Would he try to take over, try to push his clothes out of the way from pure impatience?
Uh-uh. He remained still, letting her set the pace. His driving need was evidenced only by the flexing muscles rippling through his body as he clenched in preparation for the expected pleasure of her next touch.
A patient man. A controlled man. A big man, judging by the tightness of his zipper against his erection.
Her blood pounded, even as every bit of spare moisture in her body descended right between her legs. She shifted a little on the couch, incredibly swollen, sensitive and ready.
“This is killing me, too, but it feels so good,” she whispered. The slow buildup…she’d always loved it. “Did you know I did a ketchup commercial on anticipation?”
He groaned. “Do you know I’m going to die if you don’t hurry up?” His eyes remained closed, his head back as he muttered, “I could have unzipped every prom dress at my high school in less time than this.”
Grumpy, grouchy. Adorable. Sexy. She giggled, loving the way he let her tease and torment them both, before finally lowering the zipper as far as it would go.
“Thank you God,” he muttered, his voice half laughing, half choking.
Putting her palms on his sides, she savored the quiver of his hard muscles beneath her touch. In one easy stroke, she lowered her hands, pushing his jeans down over his lean hips and his hard legs. Finally they hit the floor.
She could have let him step out of them, take off his shoes and kick the jeans away. But she liked having him trapped here. Between her legs. At her mercy. So she wouldn’t allow him to move an inch.
“Mel…”
“Almost,” she whispered, still delicately licking the skin low on his belly, below his tan line. Now her cheek was brushing against that thick ridge of rock-hard heat, which strained against the black cotton, as her fingers had before. The man was nearly incoherent, muttering under his breath.
Anticipation. Build it. Ache for it.
Breathing against the fabric of his shorts, she ran the tips of her fingers over his flat stomach, brushing against a few scars. They made her wonder—but she’d ask later. Much later. When her body wasn’t so hungry and her mind wasn’t filled with pure sexual desire.
She couldn’t wait any longer. Hooking her fingers in the elastic waistband, she tugged the briefs away and pushed them down as one last, fleeting question shot through her mind.
Big or small?
The briefs fell. And she couldn’t prevent a moan from escaping her lips. Oh, gracious, big.
She didn’t think she could get any wetter, or any more excited. But the sight of him ratcheted everything up until she was almost unable to remain upright.
Nick looked ready to explode, to dive into her, but Melody found one last measure of strength…enough to do something she’d long fantasized about doing.
Her breasts were so sensitive. And he was so close to them.
Giving him no warning, she looked up to meet his eyes, then shifted closer, until his throbbing hard-on was brushing across one of her tight nipples. A few inches more and he was nestled between her soft curves. Hard. Hot. Heavy.
She moaned with pleasure, loving the sensation of skin on skin. That skin on this skin.
Leaning closer and squeezing her breasts together to make a tighter channel, she heard his groan of pleasure as she slowly slid up and down. That helpless sound gave her the confidence she needed to take things just a bit further. Hungry to taste him, she lowered her head, brushing her lips and the tip of her tongue against that smooth, warm male skin, licking off a drop of moisture there.
His groan turned guttural and his control seemed to snap. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her back until she reclined beneath him. His shoes and clothes were off within two seconds, and one more past that, he was yanking a condom over himself and following her down onto the couch.
“You ask me where and I won’t be responsible for my actions,” she managed to whisper between chopping breaths.
“I know exactly where I’m going.”
And he did. Oh, he most definitely did. With one strong, powerful thrust he went right where she wanted him to. Deep inside her, stretching her, filling her, bursting into her, exactly as an explosion of delight burst throughout the rest of her body.
Crying out, she threw her head back, jerking a little as the sensations rocked her for several long, delicious seconds.
Nick remained completely still, buried within her but not moving. When she could think again, she found him watching her, a look of pure satisfaction—and hunger—on his face. His dark brown eyes glittered and a half smile lingered on that incredi
ble mouth of his.
“Okay?”
“Oh, very okay,” she whispered hoarsely. Then, to make sure he knew she was in for the long haul, she added, “By the way, I am definitely not done for the night.”
His smile broadening, he began to move, drawing out, then driving deep, each thrust feeling better than the last. “Good thing, honey, because I do believe you’re two up on me.”
Pressing against him, she realized what he meant. He had brought her to a shattering climax in Rosemary’s office, and again just now.
She groaned, loving the way he touched her, inside and out. His kisses on her neck, the brush of his fingers on her breast and his stubbled cheek against her jaw had her nearly going out of her mind with pleasure. As did those delicious strokes deep within her. He rocked and she rolled and time stood still.
“Well,” she finally whispered, while she was still capable of thought, “I’m a fair-minded person. I am definitely willing to let you catch up.” The tension was already building again, the sensations rolling through her, her body signaling her as she went higher and higher toward another climax. “But I have to warn you…I’m…I’m getting one heck of a head start.”
Then she was over the peak. Shaking, shattering, sighing as Nick drove into her with a few rapid, mind-blowing thrusts.
The last thing she heard was his deep groan of pleasure and a few whispered words as he let the pleasure wash over him, too.
“Okay. That’s three to one.”
IF JONATHAN RHODES WEREN’T already dead, Drake Manning would have killed him. Gladly.
It was one thing to keep a slightly open secret about your proclivities among your closest friends. It was another entirely to get caught not with your pants down, but with your panties up. And dead, to boot.
Few people knew of their close friendship, which was the way they’d both preferred it. Rhodes had given Drake some free legal advice on occasion, particularly during his divorce last year. In exchange, Drake had used his standing at the TV station to ensure stories about some of Jonathan’s clients received a slightly better-than-fair treatment.
