by Karen Booth
“Hundreds of men have not told me that. Not the way you did just now, with sincerity.”
“You must have left a long string of broken hearts behind you.”
She shook her head slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. “No. I haven’t. Men will admire me, but they don’t have the nerve to be honest with me in any real way.”
“That’s important to you? Honesty?”
“Immensely.”
This was as good a time as any to come clean. “If we’re being honest, Astrid, I need to tell you that I have struggled with being very attracted to you.” He watched as her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and delight. He wasn’t about to wait for her response. “But I want you to know that it’s not just because you’re stunning. You’re so open and generous. You’re so sweet. I don’t really know what to make of it. I only know that I’m drawn to you.”
She cracked half a smile and shied away for a split second. “You wouldn’t say I’m so sweet if you knew what I was thinking about you in that suit.”
Clay’s sights narrowed on her, but he caught the corners of his mouth trying to twitch into a smile. “What?”
“You’re not the only one who’s struggled with attraction, Clay. My jaw dropped the first time I met you.”
Ripples of heat began moving through him, like a tide that rolled in but never receded. “Wow. I was not expecting you to say that.”
“Did I manage to surprise the unflappable Clay Morgan?” Her eyes glinted with flirtation, sending his brain off in a very specific direction, the one that led them upstairs.
“You did. And the only thing that will help me shake off my surprise is a glass of champagne. In our room.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Astrid hooked her arm in his and they beelined for the door.
Outside the ballroom, there were dozens of people still milling about and talking. Clay ducked through the crowd, pulling Astrid behind him in his wake. When they broke free, it was her turn to tug on him as she took extra long strides across the lobby—so long that Clay noticed something he hadn’t before. Her gown had a high slit. That flash of her bare skin spiked his body temperature so much he nearly broke out in a sweat.
Luckily, the elevator had just dropped off a handful of guests when they reached it. They hopped on board and Clay jabbed the button for the top floor of the hotel, then went for the one that would close the doors. They were both short of breath after rushing through the lobby, and Clay couldn’t help but have his sights drawn to Astrid’s décolletage as every inhalation filled out her curves. She was a feast for the senses, without so much as a single touch.
They were about to reach their floor when Astrid dropped her clutch handbag. Clay bent down to pick it up just as Astrid did the same, except she crouched, which caused her leg to poke out through the slit, all the way to her very upper thigh. The elevator dinged and the door slid open, but they were both frozen, staring at each other. It felt like a silent admission that something was going to happen between them. He hoped like hell neither of them lived to regret crossing that line.
They stepped out into the hall and the sense of urgency between them was even more pronounced than it had been downstairs. Clay pulled loose his bow tie as he strode ahead. He couldn’t take it anymore. Something had started downstairs and continued in the elevator. Hell, it started the minute they met. But he’d had enough of resisting her appeal. Spending every minute with her in the office and all day on their trip together had been too great a test.
Every inch of Astrid was temptation. Next to her in the elevator, the view had been incredible, but looking was no longer enough. He needed to touch her, without that beautiful dress. He wanted her in his bed, so he could get lost in her, if only for one night. This was their chance and he sensed it. Back in San Diego, everything and everyone else would get in the way.
He flashed his key in front of the electronic sensor and the lock clicked open. Holding the door for her, he filled his lungs with the soft strains of her perfume. He didn’t know what would happen next and he would follow her lead, but his heart was still thumping out a steadfast beat, like his own body was trying to remind him to take note of what might be about to happen.
He closed the door behind them as Astrid placed her bag on the table in the entry. She planted her hand against the wall and kicked off her shoes. “These things are killing me.”
Clay laughed quietly. Her former career had been built on fashion, but she wasn’t afraid to be real with him. He stooped down to pick them up for her and that was when she placed her hand on his shoulder. On bended knee, he gazed up at her. It was the perfect illustration of the way he viewed their dynamic—he was at her mercy and in perpetual awe. “I was trying to be a gentleman.”
She nodded slowly, and it felt like seduction, the way her face was beckoning him. “I know you were. And I adore you for it.” Her other hand went to the side of his face, her palm pressed against his cheek. “I like you, Clay. I like you a lot. Even when you don’t always seem to like me...”
He placed his hand on his knee and pushed himself to standing. “No. Stop.” He took one of her hands. “I have always liked you. I just haven’t always liked the way I am around you. That’s my fault. Not yours.”
“I know you like control. Does it maybe feel like you lose it when you’re around me?”
“That’s probably part of it. I don’t like knowing that I have any weaknesses at all.”
“We all do. It’s part of being human.”
If only she understood that her reasoning brought him no comfort. “We need to stop talking about me. I want to know what you want.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.
“Are we talking about right this minute, or long-term?” She cocked one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows at him.
Any discussion of the future would only circle back to his cache of reasons to avoid anything physical or romantic with Astrid. “I vote for right this minute.”
She popped up onto her tiptoes and reached for his neck. “I want this.” Before he could think twice about what she was doing, her lips were on his, just as soft and giving as everything else about Astrid. Is this happening? Her mouth was so lush, it took his breath away. Wanting to be closer to her, he lowered his head, and she responded by running her tongue along his lower lip and punctuating it with the gentlest of nips. Wow. He tightened his arms around her waist, tugging her closer as she bowed into him, doing everything he could to not rove too far with his hands. He wanted nothing more than to bunch the supple fabric of her dress in his hands, walk his fingers through it until he reached stretches of her skin. Just the thought of touching her like that made his body go tight. He wanted her in ways he couldn’t begin to understand. These weeks of admiring her every day, wanting and resisting, had forced his mind and body into a war—this first glimmer of a truce was so heavenly he would have waved one hundred flags of surrender.
“I need to know that this is really what you want, Astrid,” he said. His mouth wandered to her jaw and then her neck, his lips skimming the chain that held the diamond pendant at her throat. The kisses were meant to put this all on pause for a few seconds while she answered, but she let out a soft moan of appreciation that felt like her attempt to pour gasoline on the flame. “If even one inch of that dress comes off, if we have sex, our entire dynamic at work is going to change.”
She reared back her head and narrowed her gaze. “Are you kidding me? I want to destroy the way we interact at work.” She threaded her hands inside his jacket, rolling them over his shoulders until she could push the garment to the floor. “I want to set it on fire and let it burn until it’s a pile of ashes.”
He’d never heard such colorful consent. Damn, he was a lucky man. And not because he’d won a major award earlier that evening. “Okay, then. Let’s melt it to the ground.”
Astrid’s mind was like a to
rnado in the heat of summer, a whorl of thoughts at conflict with each other, fueled by the electricity that sparked out of thin air. She wanted him so badly it hurt to think about it, but she had no earthly idea what was on the other side of making love to Clay. Would this change their working relationship for the better? Was she really lucky enough to have that happen?
She reminded herself that even if she had answers to her questions, there were no guarantees, especially with a man as hard to pin down as Clay. Better to give in to what she wanted and actually pin him down—to her bed. Now that his jacket was gone, she went for his shirt, untucking it, then letting her fingers race through the buttons. He kissed her neck again and she reached back to unlatch her necklace, placing it on the table. His mouth was unbelievable and that hit of wet heat against her skin made a real task of keeping her eyes open. She just wanted to let them drift shut, so she could give in to his ministrations. But now that his shirt was on the floor, she had to admire the firm plane of his chest.
She flattened her hands against his hard pecs and kissed her way across the broad expanse. His hands went to the zipper of her dress, drawing it down slowly, a hint of cooler air hitting her skin as he went. The sleeves slumped to her elbows, but the tight-fitting bodice still covered her breasts. She wanted nothing more than to be bare to him. Vulnerable. So she took a single step back and straightened her arms, letting the weight of the gown pull it down past her chest, waist, and legs, giving him full view of her in only a lacy black strapless bra and matching panties.
Clay’s eyes went even darker as they raked over her body, his expression full of hunger. “I know I keep saying this, but you are unbelievably beautiful.” He cradled her face with both hands, bringing her lips to his, then turned her around until her back was to him. He unhooked her bra, then pulled her shoulders back against his chest. He placed his hands flat against her lower belly, his fingertips brushing the top edge of her panties, then caressed his way up until the hands she had admired countless times were cupping her breasts. Her nipples went hard from his warm touch. Her spine tingled. He took full advantage, rolling the tight buds of sensitive skin between his thumbs and index fingers. It was as if he’d closed a circuit in her body, sending zaps of electricity down her stomach and between her legs. She needed his touch there. She craved it. The longing was so fierce that she whimpered.
She took his hands and pulled them down her stomach, hoping to convey her wants. He took the hint and nudged her panties down past her hips. Astrid wriggled out of them, feeling deliciously free. It wasn’t an equitable situation, though, so she went straight for his pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, and tugging them and his boxers out of the way. She didn’t want to stare, but he was magnificent now that she could see all of him...every last inch. She kissed him softly, reaching down and taking his erection in her hand. He groaned from that first touch, a sound that dipped lower as she took long, careful strokes. He got harder in her hand, further showing his approval by deepening their kiss. She could feel the old walls between them melting away. She couldn’t have guessed how good it would feel.
Clay took her hand and led her to one of the plush upholstered chairs. He pressed lightly on her shoulder and she sat, not knowing what he was doing or what he wanted. The anticipation was killing her, but every tick of the clock brought another gleeful discovery, a glimpse into what Clay Morgan wanted. What he liked. Astrid took note of it all, hoping that she might get a chance to use this knowledge more than once.
He dropped to his knees, his eyes full of a fiery lust. It was such a turn-on to take in the visible evidence of his desire. He took one of her calves and draped it over his shoulder, spreading her legs wide and urging her to lean back in the chair. He kissed her belly, then the inside of her thigh, blazing a trail with his mouth straight to her center.
Astrid gasped when his mouth found her apex and he rolled his tongue in tight circles. Her eyes clamped shut, her hands raking deep into his thick hair and curling into his scalp. He slid a finger inside her, then two, satisfying yet another desire as he curled into her most sensitive spot. The pressure built quickly. Higher and higher, then another step closer again. Her breaths were hard and short as she teetered on the brink. Then he sent her sailing past her peak, right over the edge. She arched her back and gave in to the jolt of pleasure, and the waves that followed, all while he pressed his unbelievable lips to the sensitive inside of her thighs. As her mind slipped into the present, she knew one thing: she wanted him inside her.
She sat up and kissed him. “Do you have a condom? Please tell me you do.”
He frowned. “Maybe in my toiletry kit. I’m not sure.”
Astrid did not have one. She hadn’t been intimately involved with a man in three years. There’d been no one since Johnathon. It all made sense, but now that she was thinking about it, she did wonder why she’d allowed herself to be so unprepared. She really had been reluctant to admit how much she wanted Clay. “We have to look. I need you.”
They both hurried to their feet and rushed into his bedroom, then into his bathroom. Clay dug through the bag as Astrid stood behind him and kissed his back, her hands on his hips. “One,” he announced. “I found one.”
“Perfect. That’s good enough.” She plucked it from his hand, ready to take charge. She wanted to rock his world. She wanted to show him that they could work together perfectly. No, this wasn’t the office, but there were other ways to demonstrate compatibility.
She grabbed his hand and walked backward into his bedroom, pulling him along as she went. He grinned like a man who knew he was in for something good. You have no idea. She stretched out on the silky bedding and he did the same, their bodies drawn together as lips met lips, arms coiled around the other, and Astrid hitched her leg around Clay’s hip. His fingers dug into the fleshiest parts of her bottom, telling her how badly he wanted her. The feeling was mutual.
Astrid pushed him to his back and kneeled between his legs. She drew a finger up the center of his thigh, from his knee to the deep contour along his hip. He closed his eyes and rolled his head to one side as she repeated the trail on the other side.
“Do you want me to touch you?” she asked. The answer was obvious, but she still wanted to hear it.
“Yes. Please.”
She lowered her head and huffed warm air against his length. “What about now?”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he groaned. “Although I like it. I like you being mean.”
She planted her hands on either side of his chest and kissed his pecs softly, all while her thigh brushed against his erection. “I don’t have it in me to be cruel. I just want to make you happy.” She didn’t want to make him beg. That wasn’t her point. She only wanted it to be amazing. She reached down and took him in her hand, wrapping her fingers around him tightly.
“I’m happy as long as you’re touching me.”
She smiled to herself, caressing his length, up, rolling her palm over the tip, down to the base, tightening her grip as she went. Again, she made mental notes of his reactions, the things that made his mouth go slack with pleasure. She also loved having this small bit of control over him. Normally she felt as though she was at such a disadvantage.
He popped up to his elbows and opened his eyes. “I can’t wait any more. I need to be inside you.” He took one hand and pushed her hair from her face tenderly and kissed her—a slow, soft, wet kiss.
“I want you, too, Clay.” Funny how there were no negotiations inside the bedroom. Only agreement. She took the condom from the bedside table and opened the pouch, rolling it onto him carefully.
He watched every move she made, not tearing his sights from her. The instant she was done, he pulled her down on top of him, then rolled her to her back. It was so forceful and strong, it nearly knocked the breath out of her. She hadn’t felt that desired and wanted for so long. There at his mercy, she dropped her knees, opening herself to him. The wall
was about to be gone.
He drove inside, and she waited for the moment when she would slip into the haze of pleasure and the world around her would recede. But that didn’t happen with Clay. As much as she’d dreamed of this, he made it very, very real. He delivered the strokes so artfully that there was no choice but to pay attention. To meet every motion he made with a rock of her hips, and every kiss with one of her own.
He placed a hand on one side of her face, holding up his body weight with his other arm. “Talk to me, Astrid. Tell me what you need.”
For that man of few words, this was a surprise indeed. “Now you want me to talk?” she kidded, raising her head and kissing his chest, then his neck.
“This is important. I don’t want you to be anything less than satisfied.”
The truth was that this had already far surpassed her hopes, but she shifted herself a tiny bit, then grasped his shoulder, pulling him down. “I need your body weight on me.”
“I’ll crush you.”
“You won’t.”
She pulled her knees higher, enjoying every incredible inch of him as he rode inside and out. “That’s it. Right there.”
He sank down against her, adding to the pressure, kissing her deeply and with unending passion. She explored his back, found his incredible ass, giving him a good grab. All the while, each thrust brought her closer to the edge. Her insides were tightening, coiling and about to spring at any second.
“I’m close,” she muttered. Her peak was toying with her, pushing closer, then pulling away.
“Me, too. You feel so amazing.”
She smiled and nestled her face in his neck, letting his stubble rub against her cheeks. She closed her eyes, her muscles contracting faster. He matched her intensity and she clutched his body, grabbing him with everything inside her. She called out sharply as the pleasure drove through her. Then Clay followed, his torso going rigid for a moment, then relaxing as he gave in to it all. He collapsed at her side, but immediately pulled her close, into the safe and warm cocoon of his arms. She hadn’t expected post-sex snuggling. Not from Clay. This was so much like an expression of affection.
