“Please tell me you have a condom,” she said.
He nodded, grinned at her as she worked the final buttons. “I do, and it’s kind of a funny story because I didn’t have one when I walked into this hotel,” he said, reciprocating with her shirt, stripping it off. “When I got the room, I asked the desk clerk if he happened to have a condom. He winked at me, slapped one in my palm, and said ‘Always happy to help a dude out.’”
She laughed, the sound like a wind chime, and it dropped down in his heart for the briefest of moments. What the hell? This was a one-night stand. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything anywhere except in his groin, so he focused on that, ignoring the fact that he’d had a fantastic time with her at the bar, and that one of the reasons he wanted her so badly was that he liked her mind as much as her body.
But her body . . . here before him . . . that’s what he needed right now, and he had a mission—make her come once, twice, then a third time. A night like this, a woman like her, one time would never satisfy him.
He took the condom from his pocket. He guided her hand back to his briefs, and pressed her palm against his erection. She drew a sharp breath as she touched him for the first time, and her reaction sent a shiver down his spine. “I like,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said softly, moving her hands to the waistband. “Take them off.”
She pushed his unzipped pants and his briefs down to his knees, then stared at his cock. She ran the tip of her tongue across her teeth and swallowed hard.
“I like it very, very much,” she said, sounding mesmerized as she gazed at his hard length. She took him in her hand and stroked him several times, and he nearly growled from the pleasure that ricocheted through his body as she touched him. Quickly, he stilled her hand. “You made me stop, so now I’m going to make you stop.”
He pressed the condom into her palm, and buzzed his lips along her neck up to her ear. “Put it on me,” he said in a firm voice, giving her a command.
She opened the wrapper, tossing it to the floor, then slid it on him. She tugged his body closer, rubbing the head of his cock across her slippery wetness. A wave of heat licked his veins, scorching him. He welcomed it. Fucking gladly.
“Were you worried you couldn’t come twice if I finished going down on you?”
“Yes.”
“You know that only makes me want to prove you wrong,” he said, then reached for her leg, gripped her thigh, and wrapped it around him. “Hold on tight, beautiful. I’m going to take you for a ride.”
* * *
She’d be making an offering tomorrow to the Patron Saint of Endowment because Jack did not have a textbook cock. Not even close. He was long, thick, wide, and absolutely fucking perfect. But more than that, he knew what to do with this beautiful gift he’d been given. He entered her, and she moaned instantly as he filled her, stretching her in ways she hadn’t been stretched in God only knew how long. He paused for a moment, letting her adjust to his size.
“I can handle it,” she murmured.
He raised an eyebrow. “Good. Because I’m not going to take it easy. Not after you teased me when I was on my knees for you,” he said, thrusting deeper into her. She grasped his shoulders, holding on tight. She wanted to run her hands all over his beautiful body, to explore his chest, to grab his hard ass, and run her fingers across it.
But all she could do was hold on as he pumped into her, giving her the fucking he’d promised. Taking her deep, and hard, and up against the wall. The room was dark, only a faint glow from the bathroom light illuminated them, but they would have made quite a picture. A silhouette of unbridled lust. His shirt open, his pants down to his knees, shoes still on. Half-undressed too, only her panties had made it off. Her shirt was undone, her bra still on, her skirt hiked up to her waist. He gripped her leg tight, his hands strong and unyielding as if he would never let go of her as he rolled his hips, sending his cock deeper into her, his hard length hitting her with just the perfect amount of friction.
“You tasted so good, Michelle. I don’t like that you denied me,” he said in a hot growl against her throat. “But it only makes me want you more.”
“I just wanted you inside me. You feel so good inside me.”
“Fucking you is perfection,” he groaned, then reached his other hand to her ass, squeezing the cheek hard, unleashing a blast of pure heat through her body. She felt as if she were on fire, as if her body had become an inferno of pleasure as he drove into her. Words were no longer needed, not even their naughty back and forth, because they were reduced to pants and moans. His steely length filled her so completely that she was sure nothing else existed in the whole wide world. But this—the pure and absolute bliss of his glorious cock sliding in and out, harder, deeper, faster. His fingers playing against the soft flesh of her rear. Squeezing her cheeks.
The world around her was white with bright, hot stars exploding as he took her deeper.
He bent his head to her neck, all while gripping her, never letting go. Her belly clenched, and she felt the first surge of sensations, like a rocket engine starting to burn, rattling as it began to take off. He pressed his lips to her shoulder as he pumped into her. He bit down, his teeth sharp against her skin, sending a rush of fresh and sweet pain into her body. It was the key turned in the ignition, and in an instant there was liftoff. She shot into the sky, engulfed in pleasure that spread in a fury from her center all the way through to her fingertips.
Her moans escalated. Her words became a frenzied chorus of I’m going to come, I’m going to come. Then, finally, his name.
“Oh God, Jack,” she called out, not even recognizing her own voice anymore. Not even sure where it was coming from. She wasn’t even here. She was in an opium den of bliss, a pleasure palace of his making as he thrust so deep and so hard that she swore her first orgasm rolled right into a second one. The next wave hit her unexpectedly, a shattering burst of bright light and gorgeous heat that pulsed through her in aftershocks. She didn’t think she ever wanted to stop coming, even as he raced to join her on the other side, another bite into her shoulder setting him off.
He groaned, holding her tight as his brows scrunched, his groans turned primal, and he came too.
* * *
They lay tangled up in each other, clothes still half-on, having fallen into bed.
“If my calculations are correct, that was twice,” he said, as he ran his fingers through her hair. He loved the feel of her hair against his skin.
“That has never happened to me before,” she said, still dazed, and he wanted her to look like that again and again with him. As soon as he thought that, he realized he didn’t want a one-night stand with her. He wanted two nights, three nights, more and more. To make her come again and again. To bring out that response.
“We can do it again,” he said, offering in a tone that was both playful but truly sincere. He wanted her to know he meant it. He turned on his side, propping his head on his hand, running his fingers down her hipbone. “Michelle with two Ls, what would you think about another time?”
“Well, I should hope you’re planning on another time in about, say,” she stopped to look at her watch, “fifteen minutes.”
He laughed lightly. “Yes, obviously this room is for multiples of multiple orgasms, and I fully intend on fucking you again in, say, ten minutes.” Then he turned more serious, because he wanted her to know that this could be more than one night. Funny, how he hadn’t expected that, and had figured a quick romp and then goodbye would be all that was needed. But even though he had no intention of anything serious happening, because he was no good at those type of relationships, he could go for dinner, and another night like this. Or just skip the meal and have her come over to his penthouse apartment, drink wine, and then enjoy some window sex in front of the full-length glass in his living room that overlooked the park. Yeah, he could go for either, both, any combo. “But I also would love to see you again. What are you doing this weekend?”
She pa
used, the corner of her lips quirking up in a half-smile. “Just Jack, are you asking me out on a date?”
He grinned, then leaned in for a quick kiss, brushing his lips against her bruised and red ones, the evidence of how she’d been kissed, and desired. His mark on her, this woman he wanted. “I suppose I am.”
“Then you’re going to need to be more than Just Jack. Want to cough up that last name now?” she said, making a gimme motion with her hands.
He parted his lips to answer, but was cut short when Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” started playing, a loud crescendo of the most famous part of the piece of music. Michelle twitched, her shoulders visibly tensing. She sprang out of bed, hunting for her purse, then fishing around in it for her phone as she buttoned her shirt. Possibilities flashed through his brain—was she married? Was this the Bat Call from a friend, saving her from a man she didn’t want?
“Michelle here,” she said in a crisp, business-like tone as she tucked her shirt into her skirt.
Maybe it was work. He didn’t know what she did for a living.
Listening to the call, she nodded several times as she stuffed her feet back into her black pumps, then smoothed a hand down her shirt. “I understand. Please tell her I will call her in three minutes.”
She hung up, and sighed heavily. “Jack. I’m so, so sorry. That was my service. A patient of mine needs me. But I swear I want to see you again, so please take my number and call me tomorrow, okay?”
He narrowed his eyes, not sure if he believed her. “If you just want a one-time thing, that’s cool. Or if you’re married and rushing home to your husband, maybe let me know that too so I can stay far away.”
She walked quickly to the bed, bending down to drop a kiss on his lips. “I swear I’m not married, not even close. And I haven’t been involved with anyone in ages, and I would really like to see you again, so give me your number and I’ll call you right now so you have mine in your phone,” she said, and she seemed so earnest and bullshit-free that he chose to believe her. He knew what she did now; she was a doctor, and that made sense since she’d said she made people feel better. Noble profession, and all. He rattled off his number, and she dialed it. His phone sounded from his pocket.
She arched an eyebrow. “You like Ravel?”
He nodded. “Classical music aficionado here.”
“We have so much to talk about. Text me tomorrow. And, Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the two best orgasms of my life.”
“Next time, we’ll make it a double of a double.”
“I’m going to hold you to it. And on that, I need to run,” she said, slinging her purse higher on her shoulder then opening the door. It clanged loudly behind her when it shut, the sound of the night ending far too soon.
He shifted to his back, tucking his hands behind his bed, and staring at the ceiling. Too bad the room didn’t have an hourly rate, because they’d only used it for thirty minutes.
The sound of a siren echoed in the distance, the noise of New York inserting itself into another moment. The room closed in on him, suddenly too small, too empty as he longed for both her company and her body.
CHAPTER FIVE
Your 2 p.m.
Jack wiped the slight sheen of sweat from his forehead and took aim, cleanly delivering the basketball through the net.
“Did you miss me last night?” Nate asked as he grabbed the ball.
Jack laughed. “Not one bit.”
Nate raised an eyebrow as he dribbled the ball between his legs. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
His friend knew him too well. But then, any man would know what he meant, because that’s where a man’s mind was most of the time. Nate was no different. Besides, now that Nate’s friend Bryan had settled down with Nate’s sister, Jack was the one regularly quizzed about his late-night antics. He hadn’t had much to say lately though, and he certainly hadn’t shared details of his sex life with Aubrey back when they were together. Though his times with her had never been as exciting as only one night with Michelle.
It was okay that he was the quieter one when it came to the morning-after report. Nate usually had enough fodder for the both of them.
“Maybe it does,” he said as Nate took his turn shooting.
“And does that mean you’ll be the one canceling drinks next time?” Nate asked as Jack grabbed the ball.
“You know what? It just might mean that. But for a much better reason than working late on a deal.”
“That deal is going to make my company a lot of money, though.”
“That’s a good thing then.”
“Yeah, but not as good as other things.”
He flashed back to last night. To Michelle’s body, half-naked. He’d need to get the rest of her clothes off tonight.
“You’re right. Definitely not as good as other things that I’m going to engage in again tonight,” he said with a wicked grin.
“Lucky bastard,” Nate whistled as the ball sailed through the net.
Maybe he was talking about the ball. Or maybe he was talking about the possibility of another time. The latter was a hell of a lot more exciting.
So exciting that he sent Michelle a text as soon as they finished shooting hoops that morning.
J: Are you still holding me to that foursome of orgasms tonight? Because I plan on delivering.
M: Four? Consider me game.
He texted her on and off throughout his day, until it was time for his appointment, and even then he kept up the volley on his walk to the Lexington Avenue building.
* * *
M: By the way, did I tell you that I woke up this morning thinking about what you did to me against the wall?
J: Did you touch yourself?
M: What do you think?
J: That you had that gorgeous sexy O mouth going on this morning in your bed.
M: Maybe I did
J: Would love to see that. Fingers or toys?
M: Both. And if you want to know more, you’ll have to take me to dinner.
J: That can be arranged, but I’m going to need to eat food, and eat you.
M: How about you make arrangements for the former, and I do for the latter?
J: I’ll make reservations at a restaurant. I might need to taste you first though. Not sure if I can wait. I’ll text you later. I have a meeting in five min. Walking into the building now.
M: Mmm . . . I like the way you think . . . and I have an appt too. Can’t wait to see you again.
J: Can’t wait to see you.
Michelle grinned wickedly as she turned her personal phone to silent, then tucked it into a desk drawer. She always gave her clients supreme focus, and that included not only silencing the phone, but placing it completely out of sight. Besides, Jack was already front and center in her mind; she didn’t need to clutter her thoughts with even more of him when she had to focus on her next patient. He was some kind of magic, though; he’d been the only man whose touch had made her forget Clay. She hadn’t thought of her good friend once last night. Jack had been so overpowering, so dominant that there was no room for anyone but Jack in her head and heart.
He was a good drug, the kind who could wash away the bitter aftertaste of unrequitedness.
Now, here in the light of day, her mind tripped briefly back to Clay. She’d been in love with that man for ten years, and it sucked that he hadn’t loved her back. She’d hoped that Liam, the charming actor she’d dated a few months ago, would blunt her feelings. But as she flipped open her laptop to check on her next appointment, Michelle knew there hadn’t been enough of a spark with Liam—there wasn’t a true light-up-the-night ignition that could erase the past.
It would take a once-in-a-century eclipse to blot out the ache she’d felt for Clay, who was now so happy with another woman. Longing had camped out in her heart for so many years it had squatter’s rights. She wished someone had warned her that loving someone who doesn’t love you is like a permanent sore in the mo
uth—painful, and you want to touch it all the time, to worry away at it. The ache had dulled in the last few months, but he was still in her heart and she had no clue how to fully erase him.
She clicked open her calendar, checking on the details of her next session. At least she had her work to focus on. Her clients and their challenges fed her, made her whole in a way that only her work as a psychologist could do. She scanned the notes from her office manager who’d arranged the appointment, though she knew very little about the man coming to see her. That was par for the course. She rarely knew much in advance, and her job was to get to know clients during their time together.
But she knew this much. No first name, but the last name was Sullivan. His sister had called to set up the appointment for him, citing intimacy issues. There was a line about “difficulty moving on from last relationship,” and a reminder that discretion of the highest order was vital, since the patient was a prominent businessman.
Not a problem. Never a problem. Discreet was Michelle Milo’s middle name. She hadn’t even breathed Shayla’s name out loud to Jack when she’d called her service late in the middle of the night to talk.
Well, let’s see what we’ve got. She was ready to focus on this Sullivan fellow for the next hour.
When she heard a knock at two o’clock sharp, she opened the door to her office, and all thoughts rushed out of her brain but one.
One word. Blaring like a neon sign.
Smoldering.
This man was smoldering.
And she’d already met him last night.
Michelle and Jack’s love story continues in the NYT and USA Today bestselling full-length novel NIGHTS WITH HIM, available everywhere.
A NIGHT OF SEDUCTION
The Seductive Nights Novellas Page 8
