“I interrupted your meeting,” she said, heart hammering against her ribs. He’d had those lips on her, those fingers inside her.
Hammering harder.
He reached her, wrapped his arms around her. She could feel the long, rigid length of him, and it only made her craving for him worse. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.
Yes, oh, yes. “No,” she said with a shake of her head, and pulled from his embrace.
He followed her, even as she evaded him. “I’m not ruining your workday,” she insisted.
“No, you’re not. You’re making it better.”
Even harder.
“I don’t know why you came, but I’m glad you did.” His voice was husky with arousal. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” She allowed him to catch her again and ran her hands up his chest, discovered his heart was beating as erratically as hers, and framed his cheeks. “I know we said we’d take things slow, but I thought we could negotiate and speed things up.”
He pressed his lips against hers, taking the barest taste with his tongue.
“I agree. Like I said, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand, yanked her toward the door. “We’ll do our negotiating in private.”
A buzz sounded from his desk. “Mr. Winstead is here,” the receptionist announced.
Dane cursed under his breath and released her to scrub a hand through his hair. “I forgot. Damn it. I can’t reschedule this. Give me an hour and we’ll go back to my place.”
“Shall I wait in the lobby?”
“Honey, you just got here. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He led her to a plush leather couch, gave her another kiss, then another, this one lingering. His tongue came out to play with hers. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Mr. Michaelson?”
With another curse, Dane released her and stalked to his desk. He jabbed a button and said, “Send him back.”
Not knowing what else to do, Kenna eased onto the couch. The door opened a minute later, and the receptionist stepped inside. She gave the office a visual sweep, stopping on Kenna and gaping. The African-American man who’d exited the elevators strode inside behind her. She exited, and the door closed.
As Mr. Winstead and Dane shook hands, the other man noticed her. She gave a little wave.
“Miss Starr will be taking notes,” Dane said, then winked at her.
A blush warmed her cheeks. The meeting kicked off, and she picked up words like “drilling,” “refining” and “processing.” Something about NYMEX again, and a “benchmark.” Just like at the engagement party, everything went over her head.
At one point, Dane called out, “Do you concur, Miss Starr?”
What else could she say but, “I concur, Mr. Michaelson. Of course.”
He sighed with exaggerated heaviness. “That certainly complicates things.”
She almost had a panic attack. Had she just ruined his meeting? “I mean, I don’t concur!”
While still talking to Mr. Winstead, he walked to the wet bar and poured a drink. She expected him to give it to his guest, but he gave it to Kenna and traced his fingertip along her jaw before returning to his desk. Her need for him returned in a rush.
As if it had ever really left.
She took a sip of her drink—ginger ale. One of her favorites.
“No, I did not say that,” Mr. Winstead suddenly burst out.
“You did,” Dane said calmly.
“Miss Starr. Repeat back to me the last thing I said to Mr. Michaelson.”
Uh...”No, I did not say that.”
Dane covered his mouth with his hand—to stop a laugh?
Mr. Winstead glared at her. “Before that.”
“I don’t actually know,” she admitted.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?”
“All right. Enough,” Dane said, all pretense of calm gone. “This meeting is now over.” He stood and extended his hand. “My terms are nonnegotiable. Take them or leave them.”
Mr. Winstead mumbled something, but the two shook hands. When Mr. Winstead left, he winked at her as Dane had, surprising her, making her think he’d gotten what he’d wanted out of their deal, whatever it was, but had played a role for show. Men! She would never understand them, but she would probably always enjoy looking at them.
The door shut, and Dane was pulling her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “Finally.” He kissed her, stealing her breath, feeding her his own, ensuring her life revolved around his, that he was a part of her, branding her, owning her.
But she could own him, too. She rolled her hips against him, nestling against the hardness between his legs. “I want you, Dane.”
He groaned. “And you’ll have me. But not here. When I get you naked, I don’t want to be disturbed. Don’t want to risk anyone seeing what’s for my eyes alone.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
* * *
MUCH TO DANE’S displeasure, Kenna insisted on driving her own car. He did his best to change her mind, not wanting to miss a single second with her, but she remained stubborn. Now he motored down the road slowly, even though he longed to hit the gas, ensuring she was always seen in his rearview mirror. He even stopped for every yellow light. No way he’d lose her.
Finally, after what seemed an agonizing eternity, he reached his home. The palatial estate in the middle of thirty acres was low and sprawling and bigger than a single male with zero pets or livestock needed, but he liked his space, and he liked not having neighbors nearby. He parked in front rather than in back, eager to get out and get Kenna out of her car and into his arms.
He led her inside quickly, flipped on the living room light, and eased her down on the couch. He was more than ready to rip off his clothes, then hers, when a feminine voice called from the hallway, “Oh, Day-ayne, I’ve got a surprise for you....”
He stiffened, fighting dread as footsteps pattered. This isn’t happening. Then, almost in slow motion, like a villain appearing in a horror movie, Courtney rounded the corner—naked.
With a gasp, Kenna jumped to her feet.
Courtney noticed her and shrieked, running back to the bedroom.
Oh, it’s happening, all right.
“Kenna,” he said. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
She stared up at him for a long while, silent, her expression blank. Then, slowly, she walked to the wet bar and poured herself a drink.
He followed her, willing to tie her down and force her to listen to him. “I don’t know why she’s here or how—”
Splash.
He blinked, wiped a hand down his dripping face, and realized she’d just tossed her drink at him.
“Oh, Dane! You should see your face,” she said with a hearty laugh, shocking him. “And seriously, that was so freaking fun. I don’t know whether I should thank you for the opportunity to check another item off my list, or do it again.”
CHAPTER TEN
“I’M SO CONFUSED right now,” Dane said, the whiskey still dripping from his lashes.
Kenna pressed a sweet kiss on his lips, making his blood boil with need. “Let me help clear things up. You need to get rid of the centerfold, and we need to finish what we started.” She trusted him. Besides, she knew him. He wouldn’t have brought a girl here if he’d had another one waiting for him, naked.
“I don’t know why she’s here,” he repeated, “or how she got inside. I have never given her a key. Never given anyone a key. And I told her we were over. I even—”
Kenna pressed a finger to the center of his mouth. “Less talking. More getting rid of.”
He wiped his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the lifted material revealing a stomach roped with all kinds of muscle. “You are a treasur
e, Kenna Starr. You know that?”
Am I? I want to be. Want to be his treasure.
He raced after the centerfold. Kenna heard cursing—both male and female—and the shatter of glass. She tensed, harkening back to the discovery of her mother’s affair with Thomas.
Dane yelled, “Do not ever come to my home uninvited again. Do you understand?”
“I know you want me,” the girl yelled back. “You’re just fighting commitment. Your dad said so.”
“You called my father?”
“I’m here to prove I can be everything you want, Dane. Everything you need. Spontaneous. Sexual.”
More talking, but Kenna couldn’t make out the words.
First Jada, now this. He must make every woman feel as if she was the only one in the world capable of taming him. Doesn’t bode well for me.
A few minutes later, Dane escorted a red-faced Courtney from the hall. He didn’t head to the front door.
“She parked in back,” he grumbled. They disappeared again.
At least she’d been dressed this time. But...wow. That’s my competition. Slender, without an ounce of fat. Waxed and stacked. I’m not even in the same league.
“She’s gone,” he said.
Kenna blinked to find him standing in the entrance leading to the kitchen. He had one shoulder propped against the frame.
“Maybe...maybe I should go, too,” she said.
He gave an almost violent shake of his head. “No. You’re staying.”
Nerves forced her to add, “There are probably a thousand different reasons we shouldn’t be doing this, Dane.”
“And none of them are good enough, Freckles.” His low, husky voice drifted to her ears, a blatant caress. “I want you. You want me.” He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt. “Do you deny it?”
Gulping, she pushed to unsteady legs. “No.” But he’d wanted so many others for so long, and there was absolutely nothing special about her.
More and more bronzed, muscled skin was revealed. “Earlier you mentioned something about negotiating to speed things up,” he said. “I agree that’s a good idea, so here are my terms. You will give yourself to me and I will take you. You’ll trust me not to hurt you. I will adore your body the way I’ve been dreaming about since the night of the party.”
He’d been dreaming about her?
“Are those acceptable terms?” he demanded.
“Well, what do I get in return?” she asked, just to be contrary. As if he hadn’t just promised to make her every dream come true.
“More pleasure than you’ve ever thought possible.”
She couldn’t stop the shiver sliding through her. “I agree, though I have one caveat. I get to adore your body the way I’ve been dreaming about.”
He flashed her a tender smile, one quickly replaced by desperate need. “Deal.” And then he was striding to her, discarding his shirt along the way. She barely had time to appreciate the smattering of tattoos running up his arms before he had her wrapped in his embrace.
His mouth found hers, and as his tongue thrust inside, mimicking the hard-and-dirty ride to come, it had a devastating effect on any resistance she might have still harbored. It was as if an atomic blast had just detonated inside her, and her hunger for this man was the last thing standing. The only survivor.
She devoured him with the same urgency he devoured her, giving and taking seemingly unquenchable passion. Her hands longed to be everywhere at once and moved from his hair to his shoulders and then to his lower back in quick succession. His skin was soft and hot and the muscle underneath rigid with strength. He wasn’t some untried boy, afraid to demand what he needed. He was all man, confident and controlled.
Or maybe not so controlled. “Need to touch more of you,” he rasped. He ripped off her shirt and tossed it away, then tore the center of her bra. He paused the scorching kiss long enough to stare at her bared breasts, the crests beaded and red, aching. “Pretty. Perfect.”
He fell back on the couch, dragging her with him so that she straddled his waist. He sucked on one nipple, then the other, flicked his tongue over them and bit, drawing deliciously agonized moans from her. The pleasure was unreal, more potent than anything she’d ever experienced before, sweeping her up, propelling her to a new level of awareness, where nothing but sensation existed.
She rubbed against him and cried out as a sharp lance of pleasure shot through her. He cupped her bottom, and urged her into a more dangerous rhythm, one that was constant. Rub...rub...rub...every point of contact electric, and all the while he continued to erotically torture her nipples.
Too much. Not enough.
“Dane.”
He set her aside and leaped to his feet to yank at her shoes, her jeans. He hooked his thumbs at the band of her underwear and removed those, too, leaving her naked. There was no time to entertain shyness. He gripped her by the knees and parted her legs. Cool air brushed against her most intimate place.
“So wet, honey. So beautiful,” he praised. He dropped to his knees, kneeling in front of her...and lowering his head.
She trembled, hoping he would do it...but also nervous—
He licked her.
Her hips shot up off the couch, and he did it again, a slow lick that branded her soul-deep. No one had ever...how could it be so...”More! Don’t stop! Please, Dane, don’t stop.”
He gave her what she begged for, and fire sparked to life in her veins, scorching everything in its path. Pressure built inside her, beginning between her legs...quickly spreading, building and building...
“You taste so good, honey. So sweet.”
Shattering. An orgasm ripped through her, and she cried out his name. Every muscle in her body quivered with need, pleasure...satisfaction. Weakened, all she could do was sag against the couch.
Dane lifted his head, his eyes glazed with desire, his pupils blown. His lips gleamed in the light—he licked away the moisture she’d left behind. “You ready for me?”
“Yes.” Oh, yes.
“Let’s find out for sure.” He pushed her legs even farther apart, and slid a finger deep inside her.
That’s all it took. The pressure began to build once again, chasing away the weakness, leaving her gasping with need. She chewed on her bottom lip to silence a cry of desperation, but it escaped anyway.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked, working a second finger inside her. “Every inch of you. Made just for me.”
His words...slaying me.
The tight fit burned, but it was a burn she liked, and as he thrust and thrust, she arched into the movements.
He withdrew his fingers, and she moaned at the instant sense of loss. He stood and practically shredded his pants. Wasn’t long before he was naked and oh, he was magnificent. Muscled, as she’d known, with a long, thick erection weeping at the end.
He tightened his fist around the base, pumping once, twice.
She was mesmerized, and wasn’t sure how she found the control to say, “I’ve been tested...I’m clean...on the pill...never wanted to risk...”
“I’m clean, too. Never been with a woman without a condom.”
Without a condom. The words echoed in her mind, and she realized that’s what she craved. Nothing between them. Just male to female, no barriers. Something he’d never had before.
“Dane,” she said, and the need in her tone drew a moan from him. “Could we...what if we...”
She didn’t have to say the rest. “No condom, honey? Tell me that’s what you’re trying to say.”
She gave a little nod.
“With you...anything.” He returned to his knees, tugged her to the very edge of the couch, so that her lower body was in perfect alignment with his. “I remember you wanted a list of reasons for us to be together. Well,
here’s number one.” He positioned himself at her opening and pushed in one inch...two... His breathing turned shallow, and sweat trickled down his temples. “You’re so tight. So hot. Never felt anything this good,” he said, and grazed his thumb over her sweet spot.
A flood of arousal allowed him to slide the rest of the way in. “Yes.” Her back arched, her body welcoming him even deeper.
“Reason two.” He pulled out, almost all the way, and she clasped at his arms in an effort to draw him back, but she needn’t have bothered. “Three.” He slammed back in. Out. “Four.” In. “Five.”
Yes, yes! She reached above and behind her to grab the top of the couch and anchor herself. Then...Dane...utterly...unleashed. He hammered into her, again and again. Hard, so wonderfully hard. The couch rattled over the floor, inching backward, but he maintained a bruising grip on her hips, holding her immobile, a vehicle for his pleasure...oh, the pleasure...more intense than anything she’d ever experienced before.
He thumbed her sweet spot again, and when she gasped he did it again, pressing with more force, before pulling out of her completely and putting his face between her legs, licking her again, driving her beyond the limits of what she thought she could bear, before he thrust back inside her, filling her, and she shattered, screaming his name, clenching on him, nails probably ripping the couch.
He rode her through the climax and just as she was coming down from it circled his hips, hitting her somewhere new. She erupted all over again. This time, he joined her, thrusting deep and staying there, shuddering against her.
* * *
DANE LOUNGED ON the couch with Kenna in his arms. They would have been more comfortable in the bedroom, but he couldn’t bring himself to carry her in there. Other women had been in that bed. More than he could remember or count, and he didn’t want Kenna to join their ranks.
He didn’t understand the mind-set, but wasn’t going to fight it.
A soft blanket draped and warmed them. He might never get up, couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go, even for a moment.
“Did you always want to take over for your dad?” she asked, breaking the easy silence that had settled between them.
The One You Want Page 9
