Bad Boys In Black Tie

by Erin McCarthy; Morgan Leigh Lori Foster

  He was hypnotized by her smooth, pale skin as more and more was revealed. The ring that pierced her navel glinted in the light. “This is so sexy, darlin’.”

  His nail flicked at the tiny golden jewelry, and her belly sucked inward, her breath catching. “Oh, please, touch me,” she moaned, her legs too shaky to hold her anymore. She sat down on a step, her arms beckoned him forward, and her lush, pale thighs parted, offering him a place between them.

  He leaned down, his hands gripping the step on either side of her head; he hovered over her, lowering just his head, but feeling the heat come off her in waves.

  His kisses started at her mouth, lazily lingering, the tip of his tongue tracing her soft, pouty lips. She lifted her face, urging his mouth to satisfy hers, but Fletcher always retreated, teasing her as she’d done to him, leaving her wanting more of his tormenting play.

  His breath fanned over her skin as he lowered his head, and she jerked under him, moaning long and low, frustrated as he took his time. His lips curved in a smile as they forged a path, featherlight along her collarbone, until he couldn’t taunt her anymore, and his mouth finally, finally lowered and closed over one taut, dark pink nipple.

  “Fletcher!” Tess cried out, and her head dropped to the step. Trying to catch her breath, mindlessly aroused, her arms closed around his head, and her back arched like a strung bow.

  Gawd, but he loved her responsiveness!

  Fletcher drew on her plump breast, his tongue laving over the dark peak before his warm, wet mouth sucked hard. Her erotic moans were like an aphrodisiac. As he moved to the other crest, and treated it to the same loving attention, she twisted and bucked under him, until he was at the end of his own rope, knowing if he kept it up, she’d climax just from sucking her breasts. That wasn’t where he wanted to be when she let herself go.

  With a last lick at her sumptuous nipple, he said, “I gotta feel you against me, sweetheart.” His voice was ragged, rough as sandpaper.

  “Hurry,” Tess moaned, letting go of him and reclining back on her elbows as he stood up on the step.

  As he looked down at her luscious frame, her knees rubbed together, and she opened her eyes; the hunger in them nearly brought him to his knees.

  Literally popping the remaining buttons off his dress shirt in a rush to get it off, Fletcher was barely aware of the clasp tearing on his pants, but only because it hindered his efforts to divest them. Dammit! Why did he wear a tuxedo, of all nights? He’d have shucked his jeans in a flash.

  When they were finally gone and he was in nothing but his boxers, he noticed that somehow, his black tie still hung around his neck. Fletcher pulled it free, carelessly flinging it aside. He backed down the stairs, but his hands covered her knees as he knelt three steps down.

  His eyes journeyed up her body, as did his palms up the outer curve of her thighs. “Lift up,” he murmured, scanning her face for any signs of hesitancy. Thank God there were none. Only needy little whimpers as she bit her lip, her cheeks flamed in passion as she lifted her hips for him.

  He clamped his fingers around the band of her panties and dragged them down her legs, lifting first one foot, then the other. His gaze didn’t waver from hers and both of them held their breath as his hands covered her knees again, and with agonizing slowness, spread them wide.

  Her eyes followed his every move as Fletcher gave in to his burning need and looked down. With a sigh, he lowered his head between her legs, murmured “Beautiful” along her sensitive inner thigh, and his hands slid under her buttocks; he breathed in her womanly scent. Cupping her soft cheeks and tipping her hips up, Fletcher held her steady and listened to her shrill gasps as his mouth covered her, tasting her sweet, honeyed center for the first time. He wanted to grin at her reactions, but he was too caught up in his own desires. He went about pleasuring her as he should have done this morning.

  His tongue danced up and down her slick, wet lips, and he lapped at her swollen flesh while she bucked under his exploring mouth. He delighted in bringing her to the very edge of her sanity, but retreating every time, pressing kisses on her thighs or along her hip before she could tumble over.

  Fletcher imagined driving her like this well into the night, but he wanted to get off the stairs. He needed his big bed to love her properly. And the condoms were in the nightstand.

  He brought his hand around from her buttocks, and he slid a long finger into her opening; she sighed, tightening around him. He groaned and his mind reeled, anticipating the feeling of her squeezing around his cock like that.

  And oh, did he ache! The throbbing was distracting; his boxers wet again, this time with pre-come, but he needed to feel her climax against his mouth. He wanted to taste the honeyed sweetness of the height of her pleasure.

  “Come for me, darlin’. Let me taste you,” he whispered roughly into her sensitized skin. His finger pushed in and out, over and over. Driving her on and circling her clitoris, he relentlessly flicked at it, then pressed the rough flat of his finger to the sensitive nubbin of flesh, pressing against it.

  She arched up, suspended as her scream pierced the quiet of the house, and Fletcher encouraged her to ride out her climax, keeping to her, and refusing to stop until her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it, her body squirming, unable to take the feelings anymore.

  Fletcher settled her back down to the step, holding her steady or she might’ve melted right down the stairs. He took a leisurely trek back up her body, stopping to flick his tongue over her belly, and that tiny ring. A groan of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as she whimpered and cupped his head, not letting go until he was over her, and she was kissing him, their tongues tangling and frenzied. He knew she could taste herself on him, and it drove him wild!

  The hair that covered his chest served to rekindle her arousal; she rubbed her swollen, well-kissed breasts back and forth, making cooing sounds, as little shivers wracked her body. Yeah, he thought. They definitely needed that bed.

  Not willing to let that luscious mouth go, Fletcher’s hands cupped her behind and brought her with him as he got to his feet. Her arms snaked around his neck, and her legs clamped around his waist, her ankles locking behind him. Gawd, but he could feel her wet heat pressed tight to his stomach. The sooner they got upstairs, the better.

  She panted as she broke the kiss. “Bed?” she asked, her eyes glowing like pure gold.

  “Oh yeah, honey. We definitely need a bed,” he growled, taking the steps two at a time.

  She laughed, but gasped as he playfully pressed his lips against her shoulder, swirling his tongue over the spot. He couldn’t help it; he loved keeping her charged, ready, even as he managed the remainder of the staircase and moved down the hall. She was last night’s fantasy, and tonight, it would be real. He wanted to give her the pleasure that he’d imagined she’d given him in his dreams. More than that, he wanted to show her the love that could overcome the issues they still needed to address. Later, he thought. Much later.

  Tess clung to Fletcher as he made his way up the stairs, tears forming in her eyes. No one had ever taken the time to see to her pleasure first. And when he’d opened that door, standing there in that tuxedo, his black tie undone around his neck, her stomach, tight with nervous butterflies, churned with a whole other feeling: pure lust. He filled it out so well. He was dangerous and sexy in his jeans and T-shirt, but in a tux, he was both those things, and dashing to boot. She didn’t know where he was off to, but she was thrilled that her arrival had changed his plans.

  She’d made Coop cough up his address and had come over to straighten things out with him. In just a day, he’d come to mean so much to her that she couldn’t bring herself to stay away. She didn’t like being on the outs with him.

  He gently set her down in the middle of his bed; she was so glad she’d swallowed her pride and followed her heart instead.

  He bent to her, but she pushed him up until he’d backed off the bed completely; then she scooted to the edge, her feet on the floor as she l
ooked up at him. Tess couldn’t believe she had not an ounce of shyness with him, but the pleasure in his green eyes, dark with desire as he stared down at her, filled her with a sense of empowerment. And his boxers were barely able to cover the state of his arousal only inches from her face.

  “Now you,” she said, tugging on the material, being careful when she revealed his hard, throbbing erection.

  She still stared up at him, but her tongue wet her lips as she took him in her hand, her fist encircling him.

  He shuddered, his breath rushing from his lungs, but he made sure she wasn’t pressured. “Tess, you don’t have to, honey,” he murmured, but hissed and closed his eyes when she ignored him, her tongue laving the very tip of his penis.

  “Mmm—yes, I do, Fletcher,” Tess argued, licking and teasing him the way he had her; with slow, meticulous detail.

  His eyes opened and he shuddered to find her staring up at him, watching his reactions. Her hand stroked along the hard shaft; he had to grip the post on the bed when she took him in her mouth, first the head, then her lips slid along the veined shaft, feeling it pulse and throb as more disappeared.

  “Gawd, Tess. Harder,” he growled, unable to stop the slight rocking of his hips.

  She obeyed his throaty command, sucking harder and countering his movements, using her mouth to draw out his pleasure. Her hand came up and cupped his heavy sac, fondling him and driving him to the near breaking point of his restraint.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, and she loved it, especially when they tightened—not enough to hurt, but it was just another sign that he was enjoying her treatment of his gorgeous body.

  His hard, toned thighs began to shake, and she knew that soon he was going to climax; she anticipated it, sucking him and alternately licking the underside of the shaft.

  But before she could send him into sensual bliss, he pulled back, gasping. She let go of him, looking up at his strained face. “Fletcher?”

  “Not like this, darlin’,” he said, his hand untangling from her hair to cup her face as he tipped up her chin. Leaning down to kiss her pouty lips, he whispered into her mouth, “I want to be inside you, feeling you squeezing me tight when I come.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said quickly, not finding a single thing to object to.

  He laughed. “I love a woman who’s easy to please,” he said, opening the drawer and extracting a condom.

  Did he love her? Tess wondered, but there was no way she was going to stop to ask. She ached for him, and relying on her instincts again, went with the magic of the moment. She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t already sure he was a good man, an honest man, and one who’d just gotten caught up in something that snowballed out of control.

  They’d work it out, she assured herself as she watched him don the condom. He was very well endowed, and Tess could feel the pulsing between her legs from the unbelievable feelings he’d already evoked, and in expectation of their joining.

  The mattress dipped as Fletcher settled himself between her thighs. He leaned over her, one hand by her head as his hard arousal grazed along her cleft. He held it as he rubbed her clitoris with the tip, and the feeling was like a jolt of electricity through her body.

  She curled a hand around his arm, the other taking a firm grip on his thick hair and pulling his head down for a kiss. The excitement was palpable as their tongues lunged and parried; then she drew her mouth away, staring into his eyes. When he smiled wickedly at her, always intent on drawing out her pleasure, Tess waited until he was right where she wanted him—then she arched her hips, and he sank into her. She moaned, “No more playing, Fletcher. I can’t take it.”

  It garnered a strangled chuckle from him. “Oh, you could take it, and much, much more, darlin’. I know it.”

  But he didn’t attempt to prove it. Instead he pushed in deeper, taking it slow and steady. She wanted to impale herself on him, it felt so damn good, but despite his near-reverent preparation, it was still an incredibly tight fit.

  When he was buried to the hilt inside her, he closed his eyes, and except for his deep, even breaths, he remained still, letting her adjust to his size. She was acutely aware of how he filled her so fully, but soon an overwhelming need to feel him move inside her overrode any twinge of discomfort.

  She squeezed around him, and the breath whooshed from his lungs, his eyes popping open, staring at her. She cast him a wicked grin of her own. “Now, Fletcher,” she whispered.

  “Yeah ... now,” he agreed and brought her legs around his hips, then interlaced his fingers with hers. “Christ, you’re still so tight, Tess.”

  “I can feel you throbbing inside me, Fletcher.” Her eyes closed, not in embarrassment, but at the sensations that washed over her as he growled and pulled almost all the way out of her, then plunged back into her depths.

  His voice was rough, tinged with apology. “I’m not gonna last, Tess—I’m sorry.” His pace escalated with every deep stroke.

  Tess couldn’t make her voice work; the friction of the hard and fast movement along her sensitive walls was too heady. She gripped his fingers and tipped her hips up, meeting each thrust and hoping he understood her body language.

  Faster and faster they went until one last, deep, spearing thrust and her climax crashed down on her, dragging a scream from her throat. Residual tremors and lip-biting convulsions followed, rippling through her, so strong that they triggered Fletcher’s own release, making her whimper as his sex pulsed inside her and his body shuddered over her.

  His unsteady groan of satisfaction brought a dreamy smile to her lips before he kissed it away. Finally succumbing to the exhaustion, he collapsed onto her, pillowing his head on her breast, his body spent and his hunger sated.

  Tess’s hand came up, fingers idly raking through his dark blond hair; she was tired as well, but utterly content for the first time in her life. Here, with Fletcher, she was right where she belonged.

  Seven

  “Stay with me, Tess.” His appeal fell on deaf ears; she was still asleep.

  Fletcher lay on his side, Tess’s bottom tucked to him like a spoon while he rested his head in his hand, the other reaching around to play with her belly ring; he was still so fascinated by the adornment. He’d never met a woman who had one, and he loved it.

  He’d never taken so much time with a woman, either. Or given so much care to tease and drive her beyond her limits. But with Tess, he delighted in her responses, her genuine pleasure. He just hoped that once they had their talk, she’d stay in Justice. With him.

  “Stay with me, Tess,” he whispered, not expecting an answer, but needing to say it again and again.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight, Fletcher?”

  She surprised the hell out of him, but he didn’t hesitate. “Not until last night, when I saw you up on that stage.”

  He felt her sigh, and heard her soft reply. “I don’t,” she said.

  Fletcher’s heart began to pound right out of his chest. “Tess, let me explain—”

  She twisted until she was flat on her back, pulling the sheet up under her arms; she stared up at him, and he wisely shut up. “But I felt something,” she amended. “You were drop-dead gorgeous, even all messy and dirty, and I was so flustered when you winked at me. I got the song back on track, but I really didn’t hear it anymore. All I could think about was meeting you, and praying you weren’t married.”

  Fletcher chose that moment to interject, “I was married once. She hated it here, and eventually, she hated me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to settle here, plant roots. I went away to college to get a degree in business so I could come back to Justice with the knowledge to start a business of my own.” He absently smoothed his hand over the sheet along her thigh. “What I didn’t want was to move to the city. She did. I didn’t want to use that degree to learn how to play and manipulate the market. I didn’t want to work on Wall Street, and I didn’t want to join the country clubs just to make connections
. I didn’t want to play at being something I wasn’t.”

  “What else did you want, Fletcher?”

  His sober eyes connected with hers. “I wanted to love my wife enough so none of that mattered to her. But I didn’t. And she couldn’t love me enough to give up her need to be the wife of a rich and powerful man.”

  She brought her hand up to his cheek, her eyes conveying her empathy. “You had different values, different dreams, that’s all. Get that look of failure off your face, mister. It doesn’t suit you.”

  He flashed her a fleeting smile, turning his head and kissing the soft pad of her palm. “Tell me your dreams, Tess.”

  Her hand lowered to the springy hair on his chest. “You know my dreams, Fletcher. In fact, you listened to every word I said this morning. And this afternoon, you made them come true.”

  “How’d I do that?”

  Her eyes brightened to a golden hue as she raised a brow. “Your friend didn’t ring you back after you called him, did he?”

  “Tom called you?”

  “No, I called him.”

  He swept his hand over his head. “I’m lost.”

  She chuckled. “You wrote his number on one of the papers.”

  Fletcher closed his eyes. He’d forgotten. All hell had broken loose right after that.

  She went on. “After I threw you out on your ear, and I’d had some time to smash a few things, get dressed, and calm down a little, I saw the letters there, and was just about to crumple them all when I spotted it. I wanted to know who the number belonged to.”

  “About that, Tess—”

  “Do you want to hear this or not?”

  Fletcher laughed. “Sorry darlin’. Go ahead.” His anxiety started to wane. Maybe that wasn’t wise, but pillow talk with Tess was just about as stimulating as the sex. And the sex was fantastic. He wasn’t going to blow it by interrupting now. Not when she didn’t look as if she was going to be getting up any time soon.