by Sofia Grey
The show wasn’t over. She flicked out her tongue, and then, before she swallowed, a dribble of salsa escaped and trickled down her chin.
Eyes wide, she giggled and reached for a paper napkin. “Wow. The salsa was hotter than I expected.”
So was that little show she’d just put on. “You liked it?” I asked.
She took a gulp of champagne. “Definitely. But let me put this fire out before I eat any more.”
“I like it hot,” I said, teasing.
She snorted with laughter. “I bet you do. Hmmm… bit of a cheesy line though, don’t you think? Do you use that on all the girls?”
Sitting back, I grinned. “Busted. I can’t say it’s ever worked. Maybe I need some more practice.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I bet you’ve had some hot stuff.”
It was my turn to snort. “Now who’s being cheesy?”
Flirting was new to me. I didn’t do hookups, and whenever I dated it was with women I already knew through either work or friends. I didn’t like to waste time, getting to know strangers and then finding we had nothing in common.
Kate was different though, even if I couldn’t figure out why.
The light conversation flowed easily as we ate. We enjoyed some of the same films, equally hated reality TV, and discovered we’d both been at the same rock concert a couple of years earlier.
As we dawdled over the cheese board, Kate turned her head as though listening for something. “Is that music?”
“Yeah. There’s dancing for the conference delegates. Would you like to go?”
“I’d love to.” Her beaming look of delight was irresistible, and the opportunity to hold her close in a darkened corner was too good to turn down.
The pounding bass vibrated through me before we entered the ballroom. A quick glance around the tables showed plenty of familiar faces from the conference but none of my immediate colleagues. That was good. I could hang out with Kate without the grapevine going wild.
I found a small empty table and waved to the nearest waiter. “More champagne?” I asked Kate, raising my voice over the music. She nodded, and I ordered another bottle, then claimed my seat and draped my jacket over the back,
It was too loud for conversation. I refilled our glasses, we drank a little, and Kate moved her chair next to mine. Our knees rubbed together, and our arms brushed when she played with her glass. When I stood and held out a hand, Kate let me pull her up, and together we moved to the dance floor. She stumbled as she walked, and I slung my arm around her waist. How much had she drunk?
She turned to face me, stood on tiptoes, and pressed her mouth to my ear. “I’m breaking in new shoes.”
The thumping beat gave way to a sultry vibe and provided the excuse I needed to step closer, as we swayed to the music. It felt natural for her to slide her arms around my neck, while I held her loosely around the waist.
I wanted to run my fingers through her hair, to see if it was as soft as it looked. Unable to resist, I lifted one hand and tucked a stray lock behind her ear. The dark strands felt like silk. I did it again and uncovered a gleaming hoop that sparkled in the flashing disco lights. She didn’t back off or push my hand away. Her eyes met mine, and we could have been the only people in the room.
If she kept looking at me like that, I’d kiss her.
I didn’t kiss women on dance floors. In public. I didn’t normally send flowers to strangers either, and it was becoming apparent I’d not only stepped out of my comfort zone, I’d landed on a whole new freakin’ planet.
She moistened her lips with her tongue, and I bit back a groan. One taste—that was all I needed.
She reached up and leaned against me. Her mouth edged closer, and then she spoke into my ear. “I love this song. One of my favorites.”
Fuck. I thought she was homing in for a kiss. Half a bottle of good champagne had left me far more relaxed than normal. I breathed in deep through my nostrils and tried to will my rising erection to subside. What had Kate just said? The song. She liked the song. I recognized the soulful lyrics and the insistent bassline, but I couldn’t place it.
I needed some distance but had no intention of letting her go. In a moment of genius, I turned her to face the DJ on his podium and held her from behind. I had my arms filled with the sexiest, most gorgeous woman I’d met in ages, and I might be able to hang onto a shred of control.
Or not. Kate rested her hands on top of mine, and she rubbed her delectable ass against my groin. My dick, previously half-hard, responded with a mind of its own. She couldn’t miss the bulge in my pants. Jesus. This was torture of the sweetest kind.
Focus. I splayed my fingers over her flat stomach, on the sheer fabric of her barely-there top. I could sneak under the hem and stroke bare skin. No. I didn’t grope women in public, either.
I forced myself to work through the details, to slow down my blazing libido. Her hands were soft where she laid them on mine. She had long, slender fingers, with neat nails. She didn’t wear masses of makeup and layers of jewelry, and I liked that. She was elegant. Her hair smelled of something exotic, and her perfume was lightly floral.
How long was it since I last got laid? That’s why I was so horny. And just because Kate was happy to dirty dance with me, didn’t mean she wanted to spend the night in my bed. She’d broken up with her boyfriend. She was lonely.
She was so fuckable, I wanted to take her right there. In front of the delegates, and uncaring who saw me.
My dick aching, I blew out a pained breath and found Kate leaning closer against me, our bodies pressed together from shoulders to thighs. She dropped her head back and met my gaze, and I saw the same heat in her eyes that I felt radiating from mine.
When she suggested we go back to my room, there was no way I could refuse.
2.4 Kate
Jordan’s room was larger than mine and laid out differently, but I found the glasses and poured some more champagne. We’d gone back to our table for Jordan to grab his jacket, and I’d picked up the bubbly. The ballroom now seemed light years away.
As we danced together, and I felt how turned on he was, the decision was simple. I’d never had a one-night stand in my life and never wanted one. Jordan tempted me beyond reason, and my normal control was swept away on a wave of champagne. He was here for the conference, and I’d never see him again. For one night, I’d step outside my usual self and be someone different. The exciting, passionate woman I always longed to be.
He prowled the room, closing curtains and adjusting the lights to a soft glow. The king-size bed was turned down.
He stood behind me and caught me around the waist, holding me close. “Do you really want another drink?” His voice was muffled, as he nuzzled my neck.
Now I was here, my courage deserted me. I had to decide, and quickly, if I was going through with this. Jordan, with his lips pressed to my nape, appeared to have only one thing on his mind. I tensed.
Pausing his slow attentions over my skin, he turned me to face him and looked at me for a long moment. I didn’t know what to say, but he didn’t seem angry. Instead, he took me by the hand and led me to the plump sofa in the corner of the room.
He extracted a bottle of water from the mini-bar, opened it, and poured into a tumbler. “Here.” He handed me the glass. “I think you’re going to have a headache tomorrow, but this may help offset it.”
I felt oddly let down. My limited experience with men gave me no suggestions as to how to proceed in these highly charged circumstances.
Jordan settled beside me but leaned back into his corner of the sofa, not making any attempt to crowd me. Our knees brushed together, but that was all. Although he’d poured some water for himself, he didn’t touch it. He seemed content to sit there, nursing his glass.
I wondered what he was thinking. I was normally so good at reading people, but he was a puzzle to me. I knew about keeping one’s feelings buttoned down, but he took it to the next level.
“So,” he said his vo
ice gentle, “do you wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“Why you wanted to spend the night with a perfect stranger. Why you might be having second thoughts.”
My cheeks burned under his keen gaze. What could I say? I stared into my glass, while I tried to find my voice.
He pressed on. “My guess is you don’t do this sort of thing often.”
I glanced at him from beneath my eyelashes. His face was calm and friendly. “Are you some kind of therapist?” I tried to make a joke, to redeem the awkwardness.
He shook his head. “No. Just someone who cares.”
This was enough. The sympathy behind his words and the kindness of his actions opened my floodgates. To my utter mortification, hot tears trickled down my cheeks and dripped onto my camisole. I tried to wipe them away. My first attempt at a one-night stand, and I messed up.
He passed a box of hotel tissues. Snuffling, I blew my nose. How unsexy could I possibly be? Why couldn’t I just let him seduce me? That’s why I came up here. I wanted to forget everything for a night. Lose myself in this very handsome man. Failed.
Some women managed to look appealing when they cried, all delicate and fragile. Others, like me, got a red dripping nose, and oh-so-attractive puffy eyes. If this was Lesson One in a Public Humiliation course, I would be graduating with honors.
“You’re right; I don’t normally do this sort of thing. I had another rotten day today, and when your flowers came, it seemed like the best thing to happen to me for ages.” My boss hates me, my job sucks right now, and my latest boyfriend just left me.
I needed to get under control. I took a sip of water and blew my nose again. He passed me another tissue, and the waste paper basket for my used one.
“I thought you were interested in me, but you don’t want me either, do you?” I blurted out the words rolling around inside my head, and immediately wanted to drag them back. More tears cascaded. I should never have drunk so much after not eating all day. My brain-mouth filter was switched off. I had to get out. I braced myself to stand, but Jordan moved first.
He sighed and took me in his arms, to rest my head against his chest. “Kate”—his voice was gentle—”I don’t go for one-night stands, even with a girl as stunning as you.”
I sniffed, not convinced, and wiped my nose on another tissue.
“And especially not when it’s because you’re feeling lonely and missing your boyfriend.” His voice was firm.
“I’ve messed up.” My voice was small and muffled by his chest.
Sighing, he lifted me to face him. Up close, his eyes were dark gray and flecked with gold. I wanted to sink into their depths and never surface again.
“When I take you to bed, it won’t be to act as a substitute for your boyfriend,” he said. “You’ll know it’s me with you. I won’t let you think otherwise.”
He held me close and made soothing noises, all the while stroking my hair. I was so warm, relaxed, and cosseted, that my eyelids grew heavy and I closed them for a moment, then pried them open again.
I puzzled over what he meant. Did he say he wanted to take me to bed? Or did I mishear him? It was hardly the time to say, Excuse me, but do you mind repeating that? My poor head buzzed enough. Thinking was difficult, let alone holding a sensible conversation. My eyelids drooped again. It was so tempting to rest for a minute.
Chapter 3
3.1 Kate
Voices spoke softly in the distance—a muffled conversation I couldn’t make out—and I shifted my head to listen. Stock market prices? Did I fall asleep in front of the TV? I felt too comfortable to be on the sofa. I cracked my eyes open. Yes, the blue glow across the room was the television. But playing the Bloomberg channel?
I lay on a bed, hugging a pillow. I blinked, as a memory seeped in. Kissing Jordan. Crying. Falling asleep in his arms. My pulse accelerated.
Shit. What happened after that? Lifting my head, I saw him sitting next to me, fast asleep with his head lolling. He was sprawled on top of the covers, fully dressed apart from his bare feet, the remote control dangling from his fingers. He’d covered my lower half with the quilt, but a quick glance confirmed I wore all my clothes.
Relief filtered into my consciousness. He could have taken advantage of me, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d been lovely. Caring. Sexy as fuck.
Should I go back to my room? I didn’t want to. Lying here, gazing at Jordan’s shadowy profile, I wanted him as much as I had downstairs. The way we’d danced together, I knew he wanted me too. Or he had, before I passed out.
It might be the champagne still in my bloodstream, but staying felt right. I regretted too many things in my life; I didn’t want to regret missing this opportunity.
I sat up, closed my fingers around the remote, and slid it free. I found the mute button and nixed the finance chat, before leaning over Jordan to place it on the bedside cabinet. The sudden quiet must have disturbed him. I sat back and saw him gazing at me, brows furrowed.
“Hey,” he murmured. “You okay?”
His sleep-roughened drawl sent butterflies cascading through my stomach. “Yes. Thank you.” I wriggled back, to kneel beside him. “I’m embarrassed.”
The frown deepened. “Don’t be. And if you don’t wanna go, I can sleep on the sofa.”
I swallowed past a nervous lump in my throat. “Or you can stay here. With me.” I’d never seduced a guy before. This was new territory for me, and the potential for disaster was huge. I needed to make sure he understood me, so I placed my hands on his chest, leaned forward, and kissed him.
He responded at first, but then pulled back. “Are you sure?” He was cautious, and who could blame him? I’d sobbed all over his shirt earlier.
To show him I was serious, I fumbled with his shirt buttons. He tensed when I touched warm, velvety skin underneath. His breath hitched, and that little noise relaxed me.
I normally dreaded first-time sex. It was too nerve wracking, getting to know a new boyfriend, but tonight I didn’t care. Wild Kate was making her debut performance.
He took my mouth, gentle at first. My hunger surged, and I pressed back, our tongues flicking against each other, and then he deepened the kiss and slanted his mouth against mine. Devouring me. I tugged at his shirt, trying to undress him. He shifted, and rained searing kisses along my throat, toward the V of my camisole, following with his hands. When he cupped one hand around my breast, brushing his thumb over the nipple, little electric shocks raced down my body, from breast to panties in the blink of an eye.
I had to sit up, to remove the cami, and I wriggled to curl my fingers under the hem. He helped ease it over my head, and then reached around to unfasten my bra, before sliding the straps down my arms and pulling it away. My skirt disappeared next, followed by the nylons. I lay back on the bed wearing nothing but a pair of tiny lacy panties and a huge smile.
Jordan blew out a breath, a look of satisfaction on his face as he gazed at my near nakedness. He laid another trail of scorching kisses down my body. It felt as though he branded me with his tongue. I’d never been ravished before. Up to now, sex was a bit of a disappointment, but Jordan was rewriting the book for me. Sex would never be the same again.
His shirt finally came undone, and he shrugged out of it, before leaning straight back into me and lighting another fire with his mouth. Hot, urgent fingers danced across the wispy lace of my panties, and I moaned. I usually lay there quietly, but tonight my voice developed a mind of its own. When Jordan closed his mouth over the lace, his hot breath surrounding me, I practically leapt off the bed.
I groped for him, tried to pull him back up to my face, but he was more intent on easing my panties down my legs and tossing them to the floor. His fingers crept up my inner thighs, teasing and tantalizing, as he skirted around my wetness. I wanted him to touch me—to fuck me. I tried to reach for his trousers, but they stayed out of my range.
“Patience,” he murmured. “I’m going to make you come first.”
&
nbsp; My inhibitions had mostly evaporated, but one flashed back through my brain. I never climaxed more than once. What the hell? I wasn’t far off now.
Oh. God. He slipped one finger inside me, and then a second. My spine arched, head flung back, and I cried out as he closed his mouth round me again, flicking his tongue over me. If it was amazing a minute ago, it was now off the scale. I gasped his name, felt everything tighten inside, and the incredible surge as I spiraled into the best orgasm ever. I clutched at his head. I could have been blind and mute; I was conscious of nothing except my body pulsing and shuddering.
“Jesus.” I whispered the only word I could manage. Speech had deserted me, rational thought long gone. I existed in a fog of sensations, while Jordan gently stroked me, easing his mouth up my body to claim my lips.
“You’re so beautiful.” I tried to process a reply, but conversation was still beyond me. Instead, I curled one arm around his back, holding him close while I tried again to unfasten his trousers.
“And impatient.” He sounded amused but helped me remove them and the soft boxers underneath. At last, he was naked too.
I enjoyed a long moment of kissing, if this could be classified as just kissing, our bodies pressed together from chest down to knees, his skin radiating a wonderful heat. I felt his erection bumping into me, hard and insistent. I reached down to hold him and delighted in the low groan this produced. He was huge. And hard.
A moment of sanity returned. “Do you have a condom?”
“I sure hope so,” he muttered. “I think there’s one in my wallet.” He reached down to his trousers, fumbled with a pocket, and then returned to me, condom in hand. He ripped the packet open, as I ran my fingers along the length of his shaft and circled the sensitive top, before closing my hand around the hilt. He throbbed beneath my fingertips, and I sensed the power that had been unleashed. He was warm, satiny soft outside, like iron underneath.
I felt a moment of excitement at the prospect of being impaled upon him, and then I lost the ability to think.
