Casual Affair (Slow Seductions)

by Melanie Munton

  He was exercising every bit of restraint he had not to stop alongside the curb and pull her onto his lap.

  Because the woman was evil, she put her filthy little mouth right at his ear and began to whisper. “If I sucked that down right now, could you stay on the road? Could you still concentrate while I licked you from base to tip? What if I had you in my mouth while I touched myself? Huh, Zane? Would you lose it if I had my hand in my panties while I swallowed your cum?”

  “Damn right, I’d lose it.”

  Was she trying to make him wreck the car?

  “Bloody Christ, Bea,” he said on a groan. “Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?”

  Her hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped harder, faster. “I’ve told you before. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  Hell, yes. She truly did.

  He reached his garage and whipped the car into a parking space, luckily without nailing any street signs along the way. He yanked open her door and pulled her from the car, striding with purpose toward the lift. He didn’t want to hear anything else out of her mouth except her moans of pleasure, or his name being screamed at the top of her lungs.

  There were times when banter could be fun.

  This was not one of those times.

  He was way too pent-up to delay his gratification.

  Or hers.

  Unlike their first night together, he placed her on the opposite side of the lift during the ride. They stared at each other the whole way, building the anticipation, raising the heat level.

  But the second his flat door clicked shut, he flew at her.

  “Come here,” he growled.

  He yanked her to him by the back of her neck and attacked her mouth with his. Their mutual groans mingled together the instant their lips met, their tongues tangling, ravenous in their exploration.

  When her hands slid down and squeezed his arse, pulling him closer, he snapped. He ripped her tank top over her head, barely able to keep the material in one piece, revealing her sports bra. She helped push his T-shirt up his chest as he reached back and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the floor.

  He connected their mouths again, swallowing every one of her breaths, frantic to consume all of her. He walked her backward toward his bathroom and the shower as he pushed down those ridiculously tight shorts of hers. When he had her pinned against the doorway, he tore his mouth away and looked down. Her face was pink with excitement, her eyes dark with hunger.

  She was pure sin.

  The sweetest fucking temptation.

  And he would have gladly sold his soul to the devil if it meant he could have her like this forever.

  “If you don’t put me inside your pussy in the next three seconds, I’ll do it myself. And I won’t be nice about it.”

  He hissed when her teeth nipped at the skin on his neck.

  “I’ve never known you to be nice about anything. I don’t expect you to be now.”

  Her words had a primal effect on him. His mouth dove back to hers on a growl. His movements were frenzied as they both fought with the rest of their clothes, racing to get rid of every last barrier. Her hand went straight to his cock as soon as it was bared to her.

  He pulled it away and pushed her into the glass cubicle. “You do that now, and this won’t last long.”

  She tossed him a half-lidded smile. “Well, we definitely don’t want that.”

  Needing to feel more of her toned body, he backed her into the wall of the shower and reached up with both hands, running his thumbs over her nipples. Her head flew back, her eyes squeezing shut, her breath quickening.

  “I love the way you touch me,” she said on a moan.

  He almost came right then. Almost spewed all over her thighs just from hearing those words in that breathy voice. He turned on the water, the cool spray hitting his heated skin in a welcome relief, though it did nothing to diminish his desire.

  “Yeah? Then you’re going to love this.”

  He fell to his knees and lifted her leg to rest on his shoulder. She attempted to push him away. He wasn’t having any of it. He gripped her hips firmly to keep her in place.

  “Zane, I’m sweaty and gross. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’m going to fucking taste you,” he growled up at her. “It’s been too long since I’ve had my face between these legs. Too long since I’ve had my mouth on your pussy, and it’s driving me mad. I need to.”

  And he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait for permission.

  He stroked her inner thighs once, twice, then leaned forward and covered her entire sex with his mouth.

  Her reaction was immediate. “Holy shit.”

  She braced herself on the wall and her other hand gripped his hair, pulling him closer. He lapped at her with his tongue, eating her with a ferocity that made her whimper and gasp in surprise.

  When she started to thrust her hips forward, fucking his face, it was the sweetest moment ever. She was asking—begging—for more of something that only he could give her. He felt like the most powerful man in the world. And the luckiest.

  He pushed two fingers inside her when she started to chant his name incoherently. He felt her channel pulsing and knew she was close.

  “I need you to come like this, luv,” he told her, coaxing her with his tongue and his words. “I need to feel you let go just like this, in my mouth.” He needed that more than she could have possibly imagined. Needed it so much it scared him a little.

  He leaned in again and sucked on her clit.

  She released around him with a loud scream. “Oh God. Zane!”

  He groaned against her skin as he drank her down, savoring her sweetness. Satisfied with his work, he lightly kissed her a few more times and steadied her before standing up.

  As he was about to wrap her legs around him and enter her, he noticed a strange look on her face, one he had never seen before. Vulnerability. He didn’t know why it was there, and he didn’t like seeing it. It made his heart squeeze in his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

  She immediately wiped the look from her face, replacing it with her signature smile of seduction. “Nothing,” she replied. “You’re just really good at that.”

  It was a distraction, he knew, but an effective one. Stroking a man’s ego usually was. He was going to have to revisit that look later, but for now, he murmured, “Oh, luv. That was just the beginning.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I can’t believe you’ve lived in DC for a whole year and you haven’t gone paddle boating on the Tidal Basin,” Bea said as Zane situated himself in their paddle boat.

  She grinned at his grunt of discomfort, smothering her laugh with her hand. His body was large and the boat was…not. For a moment she wasn’t sure if he’d actually fit.

  “I didn’t realize it was a tourism staple in this city,” he grumbled.

  “Shows how much you know,” she said as he fought to regain his balance. Despite his lack of gracefulness, he looked magnificent in the glow of sunset. Or maybe her state of postorgasmic bliss made everything look that way. “What have you been doing since you got here, other than working?”

  He paused to think. “Aside from work and trying out all the pubs in the city, that’s pretty much it.”

  She tutted. “The situation is more serious than I thought. You haven’t spent even a weekend just seeing the sights?”

  He settled his feet on the paddles, avoiding eye contact. “Haven’t had a lot of time. Plus, that’s not exactly something I’m dying to do alone.”

  “Then you’re clearly in need of a good tour guide.”

  His eyes snapped to hers. “If you’re referring to yourself, I believe you’ve already shown me a few things. And I must say, those sights have been…” His words trailed off as he glanced down at her body, lowering his voice. “Spectacular.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Smooth.”

  He returned her smile. “I know.”

 
; Once they were both comfortable in the boat, they began paddling, setting out into the Tidal Basin at a leisurely pace. She didn’t know why she had suggested it after their shower sex. But after they’d gotten dressed and that heated lust fog dissipated, a sense of emptiness had filled her at the thought of leaving him. She’d needed to make their time together last longer. Her solution for that was paddle boating.

  She wasn’t really sure what any of that meant.

  She didn’t want to think about it, either. Not when they were paddling toward the stunning sight of the Jefferson Memorial with nothing but a few inches separating their bodies.

  “So, your football skills were…impressive,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

  Her chest swelled with pride. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

  He chuckled. “You’re nothing if not modest.”

  “Well, I’ll admit that yours were also…above average,” she said.

  He looked at her skeptically. “I can’t always tell when you’re being sarcastic.”

  She laughed. “Normally, I would balk at giving you a sincere compliment. But in this case, it’s genuine. You’re pretty good.”

  As per usual, she felt oddly at ease with their ribbing.

  “Not overly sentimental, but I’ll take it,” he replied. “I ought to be good, since I played at university.”

  Her interest in his life hadn’t yet been sated. She suddenly wanted to know everything about him. “A jock who’s into computers, huh? You’re a contradiction, Zane Price.”

  “I don’t like to fit stereotypes.”

  His blue eyes were brighter than ever in the sunlight, mesmerizing her.

  “Clearly,” she replied. “I had a college scholarship, too. For track.”

  It took her about a second and a half to realize what she’d said. Shit. The words had just slipped out. She didn’t talk about that time in her life with anyone besides Felicity, so she had no clue why she’d felt the need to bring it up with Zane. But she had, and now she was struggling with how to shove all the worms back into the can.

  “I didn’t know that,” he said, sounding genuinely intrigued. “How’d you do?”

  She chewed on her lip for a moment before taking a deep breath and biting the bullet. “I, uh, didn’t take the scholarship.”

  There was an awkward breath of silence before he spoke again. “Why not?”

  God, this was much harder to admit than she’d thought it would be. Probably because she actually cared what Zane thought about her, how he saw her. Though she would never admit that aloud.

  Then she thought, to hell with it.

  So she’d made a bad call when she was practically still a kid. Everyone made mistakes. And if Zane wanted to judge her, then they clearly weren’t meant for anything more than a few good hookups.

  “I was dating someone at the time,” she said. She didn’t want to face Zane, but she felt his body tense at her words. “The scholarship was in Oregon, and he did a good job of convincing me that running at a school so far away wasn’t worth ruining our relationship over.”

  Zane grunted. “He sounds like an arsehole.”

  She smiled at his description. He didn’t know how accurate he was.

  “So, what happened?” he asked.

  “I turned it down and went to school here in DC.” This was the embarrassing part, but she lifted her chin and took ownership of her misguided decisions. “I was still in my first semester when I found out he had ulterior motives for dating me. He just wanted to get close to my father the congressman and use his political connections for his own gain.”

  She finally braved a peek up at Zane’s face and was surprised to see an intense look of censure firmly stamped there. But she somehow knew it wasn’t targeted at her. There was no judgment in his eyes.

  “I stand by what I said,” he murmured in a lethally low voice. “He’s an arsehole.”

  She released a relieved laugh. It felt good getting the story off her chest. Better than she would have expected. “I can’t argue with you there. I won’t say I don’t wonder about what would have happened if I had taken the scholarship, but I don’t have any regrets.”

  She noted a spark of admiration in his eyes that made her smile. But that admiration quickly turned to something that looked like…sadness? No, regret. There was regret in his eyes. Suddenly, she was desperate to know the reason behind the look.

  But she didn’t get the question out fast enough.

  “Good,” he said, nodding in approval. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself in DC, so everything worked out for the best.” He chuckled. “I have to wonder, though, is there anything you’re not good at? Because if I’ve learned one thing about you, it’s that you approach almost everything with an ‘anything you can do, I can do better’ attitude.”

  She narrowed her eyes, not sure how he meant that. “It’s called being ambitious and setting goals.”

  He threw his hands up. “I wasn’t saying that’s a bad thing. On the contrary. I think it’s an admirable quality.”

  She relaxed a little and thought about his question. “Now that you mention it, I’m terrible at learning new languages.” The look he sent her made her laugh. “It’s true. I barely passed high school French.”

  He tilted his head, studying her. “What else? What else are you less than proficient at?” Once again, his voice held genuine curiosity.

  She inhaled deeply when a light breeze sent the smell of nearby cherry blossoms wafting through the air. “Well, let me think about it. I mean, the options are so limited.”

  He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, just waited for her to go on.

  “Um. I definitely wasn’t born with a green thumb.” When his forehead creased in confusion, she explained, “Zero gardening skills. I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever owned, including some fake ones.” She pursed her lips. “And according to Felicity, I’m also terrible at doing the dishes.”

  A laugh rumbled from deep within his chest, making her want to wrap herself up in his arms and listen to it all day. Stupid.

  “And you?” she asked him, ignoring the stroke she was clearly having. “What are you not good at? Besides darts and shuffleboard and—”

  “Okay, that will do,” he interrupted, raising his hand to silence her. He glared at her when she failed to suppress her giggle. “Scrapbooking.”

  “Scrapbooking?” Not what she was expecting.

  He nodded once. “Yes. I’m a bloody menace at scrapbooking. My mum loved it, though.” He grinned with a far-off look in his eyes, as though thousands of miles away. That regretful look was back, which she really hated to see. She missed his smile.

  “I tried to make her a scrapbook once when I was in secondary school. I put pictures of our family holidays and all sorts of memories in it.” He laughed to himself. “It was a bloody mess, nothing like the ones she used to make. But when I gave it to her, I had never seen her look so happy. She must have known how hideous it was, but she said she loved it and that it was the best gift anyone had ever given her.”

  She realized he only ever spoke of his mother in the past tense. Three months ago she would never have asked him about it in a million years. But something was different now, and she felt she needed to ask.

  “What happened to her?” she asked softly.

  He picked at a thread on his pants, avoiding eye contact. “Car accident. It happened just a few months after I gave her that scrapbook. She and my father were arguing one night. He stormed out to go work his night shift, and she was still pretty upset. She said she had to go run an errand and that she’d be right back.”

  Bea watched as Zane swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

  “I knew how angry she was,” he continued. “I knew she shouldn’t have been driving like that. But I was young and didn’t really know what to do. That was the last time I saw her. My father got a call from the hospital an hour later saying she’d lost control of her car and crashed into a ut
ility pole. She died in the ambulance.”

  An unbearable ache settled in Bea’s chest. “I’m so sorry, Zane.”

  He looked back up and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. It was ages ago, though.”

  But he still hurt. She could see it in his eyes. That would explain those glimpses of sadness and regret. Knowing him the way she did, she had the feeling he’d been carrying a heavy load of guilt around with him all these years. She wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t blame himself. It wasn’t his fault. There was literally nothing he could have done.

  But Felicity’s warning of getting too involved with him echoed in Bea’s mind, so she held back.

  “What about your father?” she asked. “Do you get to see him a lot? Back in England, I mean.”

  Zane’s expression softened, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased. She was so used to his goofy grin and playful banter, seeing him unhappy was different…and unpleasant.

  “Yeah. We got pretty close after her death, and we still talk all the time. He actually remarried a couple of years ago. She seems to make him happy, and that’s all I can really ask for, I suppose.”

  It was obvious Zane had a deep love for his family, and that only made him more attractive. Before Bea could ask him another question, he beat her to the punch.

  “Your turn. Are you close with you parents?”

  Sensing he wanted to switch the focus to her, she swallowed her questions. “More with my dad, but Mama and I have always had a good relationship. Felicity and I were just so different growing up that we formed different bonds with each of them. Daddy loves us both, of course, but he always wanted a son, and I think I more or less filled that void for him. He taught me how to play sports and did all the things he would have done with a boy, so I pretty much became a tomboy.”

  “Which meant that Felicity was closer with your mother, I take it?”

  “Yep. She was the girly girl who liked to play with Barbies and practice putting on makeup. Mama had her in beauty pageants for most of her childhood. Instead of trying out every activity known to man like me, she stuck with gymnastics until she was fifteen. Mama was a beauty queen and a gymnast herself, so you could say that each parent was grooming us in their own way.”