“Uh, Hannah, I gotta be honest with you. I’m getting mixed signals here.”
“I could see where you’d think that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still confused.”
“Take my mind off of where we are, Whit.” Her husky voice shot from his brain to the soles of his feet.
She was an enigma. One second she cut him short, launching verbal volleys at the speed of sound. The next she turned all gooey, making him desperate to protect her and willing to throw out all of his careful plans. Now, she melted in his arms, making him desperate to have her.
“Is it the space thing? Do you want me to try the door again?”
“No.”
Good answer, but he needed a bit more direction before he made his move. “What do you want?”
“A distraction.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind a choir started singing. “You sure?”
She glanced up, her eyes shiny and bright. “Absolutely.”
That was just about the best news he’d ever heard. No way was he going to fumble this opportunity. Or give her two seconds to change her mind.
“Then let’s see what I can do to make you feel more comfortable in this room.”
He was willing to try anything to help ease her discomfort. If he couldn’t get her mind off the room and on him in two minutes, he’d fake an early rescue. No reason for her to suffer for his lust. Not when he was doing so well suffering all by himself.
He stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Her big brown eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Helping with your education.”
“Which education is that exactly?” The green around her mouth faded, leaving her skin bright pink and full of life.
“Your sexual education.”
“How kind of you.”
“See, there’s nothing wrong with this room and everything right with the idea of two consenting grown-ups enjoying each other.”
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Let’s just say I’m sure of you.”
“When I said distract me, I was thinking about some kissing. Maybe a little fondling.”
For once, they were on the same track. She was just a lap or two behind. “We’ll get to all of that soon enough.”
“How about in the next three minutes?”
“I like to think I’m a bit more savvy than that.”
“Savvy, maybe. Subtle, no.”
That could be his theme song. “I thought you were looking for a distraction. This room calls out for naked distraction.”
“You are that.”
“Not yet, but I will be.”
As each button slipped free from its hole, revealing inch by glorious inch of fine male chest, Hannah’s heart did a little tumble. Whit’s green eyes glittered with excitement and the bulge in his khakis left little to the imagination.
She wondered what about this seductive scene was supposed to make her feel relaxed. She felt the exact opposite of calm. More like hot and jittery. Like ripping off her clothes and climbing on top of him. No, not comfortable at all.
She tried one last time to grab onto some common sense. No need to let a little abject fear rule her interested body. Her careful plan to keep a safe distance between them hovered on the verge of vanishing.
“Maybe we should slow down a little. Talk first.”
“I think we’re done talking for a while. And this is inevitable.”
Whoa. Hearing him say it made her insides clench. Getting horizontal with a handsome architect was not on the list of things to do to get ahead in business.
“Whit, I know I started us down this road but maybe we should pull back. Just a bit. After all, we don’t really even like each other.”
There, she said it. There was no way he could argue with that kind of logic.
“I like you just fine.”
“We fight all the time. You drive me nuts.”
“For a smart woman you’re being kind of dumb.”
He was lucky he said that with a smile. “Are you trying to woo me with flattery?”
If so, it was working. At this rate, she’d be peeling his clothes off before the second hand swept around the clock dial one more time.
“No. I’m saying we’ve been circling each other for weeks, pretending we don’t feel this pull, this thing brewing between us. You’ve been all business, focusing on work and deadlines and orders, and no touchy,” he said.
“Did you say we have a ‘thing’?”
“My point is, there’s no reason for either of us to deny our attraction.”
Now they were up to attraction. At least that sounded better than having a thing.
Her gaze took a little dip, roaming down to his navel and back up to that chiseled jaw again. Attraction, hah! She passed attracted several weeks ago and was down the road of longing.
“That’s better,” he said.
When did his voice get so damn sexy? “What is?”
His shirt flapped open, revealing his muscled shoulders and chiseled pecs. Whatever this guy did behind his desk to buff that bod was a good thing. A very good thing.
“You focusing on me. I like it.”
As if she could think about anything else at the moment. Hell, she was lucky she could still speak since her tongue had swelled up and filled the entire space inside her dry mouth.
“What’s the plan here?” she asked. And how soon before he got naked?
“I’m glad you asked. See, we’re going to get acquainted with the room using some of the toys at our disposal.”
She almost stopped listening when his hands moved to his belt buckle, but his inviting words brought her back. She stilled. “Except the chair.”
“No, honey. We’ll be using the chair. That’s just not lesson number one.”
He stepped forward, his muscular body closing in as he encircled her in his strong arms. Her warm and willing body slid into him, each inch fitting like a perfect puzzle piece against his.
In a motion so slow and deliberate her heart flipped over, he lowered his head toward hers. Small puffs of air brushed against her cheek as he nuzzled first her nose then her waiting mouth with his lips. He cradled her head in his strong hands. His fingers raked through her hair, releasing the silken strands from their loose tie and freeing them to his gentle touch.
His mouth brushed against hers, back and forth, in turn coaxing and igniting. His wet tongue caressed the seam between her lips until her mouth fell open, giving him full access to the hot interior.
When he deepened the kiss, sank into her with his body and eager mouth, sparks exploded behind her eyes. Need churned deep inside her. Her shoulders shook without any signal from her brain. Hell, her boots may have popped off her feet.
Her body grew wet and ready, every inch of her lower body softening and opening for him. The straightlaced anal type had never interested her before. Tidy proper brainiacs left her cold. Not Whit. He made her white hot with need.
He seeped into her mind at work and dominated her sexiest fantasies off the job. With her eyes closed and her mind at rest she saw him. Naked and proud. In bed. On the stairs. Taking her by the kitchen sink. Lowering his body over hers with nothing but bare skin as a blanket. The images clicked by like a homemade movie in her head, lighting her skin on fire.
For once she was going to take what she needed. What she wanted. And for one night, no more than two, forget about the consequences. Forget about her silent internal promise to prove something to her overbearing family.
She inhaled, letting his intoxicating earthy male scent invade her senses, and took the plunge. “I’m ready for my lesson.”
His head pulled back. “You’re sure.”
Since it wasn’t a question, she limited her response to a nod.
His hands skimmed against her skin, moving up and down her forearms. “No regrets. No limits.”
“I’m all yours.”
“Two rules.”
&
nbsp; Rules? The one thing she didn’t want was rules. Let alone two of them. Her time with Whit was about breaking rules, not following them.
“That doesn’t sound very sexy, Whit.” She tried to kiss him but he moved his mouth away.
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, we’ll get to the sexy. Right now we need to be clear with each other.”
Would he ever stop talking and kiss her again? “Go ahead.”
“I do anything you don’t like, you tell me.”
Her stomach plummeted to her feet as she kissed her doubts goodbye. The night was for her. He was giving her this gift.
“What if you do something I do like?”
A wide grin spread across his lips. “I’ll know, baby. Your body will tell me.”
She swallowed, frantically trying to draw saliva into her dry mouth. “And the second rule?”
“This is between you and me. What happens in here stays in here.”
Something bubbled up inside of her. Since she wasn’t a giggler she decided it must be laughter. “Not the locker room bragging type, are you?”
“Never.”
Her snappy comeback died on her lips. He was dead serious. He was going to make love to her. Give her what she wanted, without strings and the fear of career destruction. She leaned back in his arms, prepared to enjoy the show.
“Maybe rule number three should be a little less talking and a lot more action.”
“Oh, honey, you’ll want me to talk. Believe me.” He winked as he stepped back. In two seconds he pulled the ends of his boring shirt out of his pants and dropped the material in a ball on the floor.
She was about to protest his lightning speed. Then she got a good look at him.
Oxygen clogged in her throat, making it impossible for her to breathe. The man was perfect. Not an ounce of fat anywhere on that tight stomach. Just a set of wide shoulders falling in a perfect vee to his slim waist. He was the most gorgeous desk jockey she’d ever seen.
For the weekend, he was hers to do with as she pleased.
“Now the pants,” she said.
“On one condition.”
Anything. All he had to do was ask. Just ask fast. “What?”
“Take that horrid shirt off.”
Hannah glanced down at her offending flannel covering. True, the garment was ugly, but it served a purpose. To ward off any unwanted male attention. Putting a visual wall between her body and the men who worked for her was the only logical choice. The only smart option if she wanted to win their respect. But, for once, she wanted to play dumb. Take a risk.
She wanted Whit’s attention.
On her.
All the time.
So she abandoned her checkered shield. She lifted the clunky shirt over her head and threw it to the floor, leaving only a slim-fit ribbed tank top and baggy blue jeans for protection. Despite the warm room, the intimate surroundings and skimpy top made her tremble.
“Much better.” His eyes gleamed with appreciation.
“Now it’s your turn.”
“My shirt is off, honey. You’re the one who needs to catch up.”
Sure, once she was able to breathe again, she’d get right on that catching up thing.
“You have a good start. I agree.” She trailed her fingers over his bare chest, letting the tips linger over the soft fuzz of hair scattered there. With each brush against his skin, his breathing hitched. When her hands wandered down to his waist, her fingernails scraping against his lightly tanned skin, his sculpted stomach muscles clenched. “But I think we can do better.”
He hissed. “I’m all yours, baby.”
She believed him. The rush of breath and sly twinkle in his eyes. All of the signs were there. He wanted her. Boring, uneducated Hannah Bridges.
As the intoxicating power filled her head, her defenses weakened. The need to control, to protect her heart from harm, took a backseat to being with Whit in this moment.
“You know, the way I hear it a pupil sometimes learns best with a live demonstration. Sort of a hands-on kind of thing,” she whispered.
“I’m always in favor of using hands.”
He put his words into action. With his hands on her hips, he treated her to a tiny squeeze. The small touch chased the chill from her body.
“Seems to me we could read about what to do in those dusty books over there or we could use our imagination and experiment a little,” she said.
“I don’t need a book to know I want you.”
“With all that expensive education of yours, I figured you’d be in favor of analyzing every angle first.”
“I’ll take you whatever way I can get you.”
She gave into one small fantasy before moving on to the biggie. The almost obsessive desire to muss his already unruly mass of hair. Everything about him was neat and clean and pressed. Now he had the hair of a mad scientist.
The silky strands slipped through her fingers. “I vote we try the live version.”
“I’m all yours, lady. You lead. I’ll follow.”
The blank ticket was her dream. “So, I’m the boss?”
His hands traveled up her back and pulled her tight against his erection. “And I’m your humble follower.”
Hot damn.
“Let’s try this.” She reached up and grabbed the handcuffs hanging loose above his head.
His sexy smile faltered. “I’m not much into bondage.”
“Me either. But then again, I’m not into sex rooms, one-night stands, or sleeping with men on the job.” She treated him to a quick, hard kiss. “I plan to break all those rules tonight.”
“Don’t forget about tomorrow.”
She wasn’t sure she’d survive the next hour and he was talking about a second day of lovemaking?
“Right. And tomorrow.”
She slipped the handcuffs over his wrists and clamped them shut. He shook his fists, as if testing the metal’s strength. Then he swore like a drunken sailor.
“Uh, Hannah—”
“I’m the boss.”
His nostrils flared as he dragged in a breath. “We have a problem, though. You see, if my hands are bound I can’t touch you.”
Her confidence growing, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his creased pants. Air hissed out from between his lips when her knuckles brushed against his bulging crotch. Just as she planned.
Small clicks echoed in the room as she unzipped his pants. When her hand slid inside the cotton material to cup him, a tremor shook his large frame.
“The important thing here, Whit, is that I can touch you.”
“Damn, Hannah.”
She pumped her hand up and down in a slow tortuous movement.
“Jesus.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Squeeze me.” His chest rose and fell in rapid pants. “Harder, babe. Hold me harder.”
She thought he’d never ask. Her fingers traced his length, overflowing her fingers. “Since I’m the boss, you should beg.”
“Whatever you want.”
His head dropped back. The chains holding his arms jangled as he pulled down hard with his biceps in what she guessed was an involuntary reaction. A slight sheen of perspiration moistened his skin when she tightened her hold on him, banding his width with her fingers.
“You are so smooth and hard.” Her finger traced the tip of his penis until his broad shoulders shook.
“Damn it, Hannah,” he grounded out. “Tighter.”
“Like this?” Her palm traveled up and down, growing bolder with each stroke. When his hips bucked against her hand, she pulled back.
“Hannah!”
“You don’t need to shout. I can hear you.”
“What are you doing? Damn it, don’t stop.”
“But you’re not ready for me, Whit. Not yet.”
Four
What in the hell was she waiting for? He wasn’t going to get any bigger. That would be biologically impossible. And he couldn’t possibly want her more than he d
id right now.
The minutes blurred until he could no longer think of anything but her. He prayed for death. Begged her to let him come. Swore at her to end it and put him inside of her. Pleaded with her to show some mercy as her small hands caressed him and shaped him.
She made him wait.
He thought about gnawing through the handcuffs and escaping to freedom. But that would mean leaving Hannah and there was no way in hell that was going to happen, not when her sexy feminine side showed up to play.
Finally, when his energy drained and his control hovered on the edge, she stripped him naked. Dropped his pants to his ankles and dragged his gray boxer briefs down his legs with her teeth. His knees nearly buckled when her eager fingers toured his ass, caressing and tracing, before dipping into the crease.
He had spent frustrating weeks imagining how good her tight sheath would feel as he slipped inside her. How her body would glove him. He figured she would end his agony quickly. Be overcome with shyness and let him take the lead.
Wrong.
The little minx was enjoying herself too much to give him peace. Oh no, she delayed his gratification as long as possible. When she decided to drop her rules, she dropped them all.
Twenty minutes later he stood naked, chained to the ceiling, legs spread wide apart and his backside leaning against the chair. With Hannah sitting at his feet.
Her tongue roamed over his lower body, taking his eager cock into her slick, wet mouth. He was seconds from bursting, from spilling into her, when she pulled back again. His hips jumped in protest.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he watched her stand up. She shook out her hair, letting it fall against her shoulders. With his mouth already watering, she pulled that tiny tank T-shirt over her head, exposing creamy breasts to his view. Her soft pink nipples stood at sharp points against her flushed skin. She was round and firm and perfect for his hands.
“Jesus, baby. Unlock me so I can touch you.”
“Not yet.”
Again with the “not yet” bullshit. He made a mental note to work on her vocabulary as soon as he could speak again.
He tried to convince her by describing the image forming in his head. “Think of how good it will feel when I run my tongue over your nipples. When I strip those pants down your legs and caress every inch of your skin with my mouth and hands.”
When Good Things Happen to Bad Boys Page 19
