Curves for Casanova

by Seraphina Donavan

  Gavin slowly released each button of her prim blouse, revealing an equally prim bra. She was completely covered by the old fashioned garment, but somehow, that only made it sexier. Cupping one full breast through the fabric, he felt the hardened bud of her nipple graze his palm.

  She moaned softly and he repeated the gesture. “You have too many clothes on, Libby—but since I don’t know when people are going to push open those doors and rescue us I don’t think it’s safe for you to take them off.”

  “What do we do then?” she asked breathlessly.

  “We work around them,” he said, his teeth grazing the tender skin where her neck and shoulder met. His other hand was coasting along her inner thigh, moving closer to the welcoming heat of her body.

  “This is completely insane...You realize that, right?” she asked.

  He brushed his fingertips along the edge of her panties. “You don’t sound sufficiently distracted.”

  *~*~*

  Libby wanted to spout off some witty reply, but his fingers had somehow breached the small defense provided by her panties and were tracing tiny circles on her bare skin, moving closer and closer the place where her body wept for him. “Please,” she murmured.

  “Please what?”

  “Touch me—I can’t wait anymore,” she urged. When she felt his thick fingers sliding inside her, parting the damp folds of her sex, she nearly wept with relief. His thumb stroked over her clit with deliberate precision, driving her up, until her hips had arched from the floor and she was thrusting helplessly against his hand.

  He pressed two fingers deeply inside her, filling her as he worked her clit, and Libby had never felt anything like it. How many nights had she dreamed of him? How many times had she touched herself in the darkness of her own bed, wishing that she’d been more courageous at their first meeting?

  Those dreams and fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of his touch. It was as if he knew precisely how she needed to be touched, as if he could see in her mind and know the things that would give her the most pleasure.

  Libby closed her eyes and her head fell back as he lowered his head to her breasts.

  Gavin skillfully taunted on her nipples through the fabric of her bra.

  It made her want to feel the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his lips, and even the scrape of his teeth on her skin, free of any barriers.

  Feeling as if her bones were melting, Libby gave herself up to the heat and pleasure. His skilled fingers drove her to the brink and then beyond, her body spasming with pleasure as wave after wave of it crashed in on her. She cried out, clutching at his shoulders, needing to feel something solid and secure as the world spun away.

  “I can’t wait to get you out of here,” he whispered while kissing her ear. “We’ll order dinner in.”

  She laughed breathlessly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “Please don’t run this time. I’m suffering here. Besides, I can access your personnel file. Run this time…and I will find you.” The words were sexy and powerful even if they were a not so veiled threat, and Gavin looked as if he meant them.

  Libby laughed, but she didn’t doubt for a moment the seriousness of his words. Gavin was shrewd and determined, and he was suffering. She knew that was true. She could feel the hard press of his cock against her thigh. With a slight wiggle, she moved down just enough to close her hand around him.

  His answering groan of pleasure was immensely satisfying, but her mind was boggling at the size of him. Some overly cautious part of her brain reared its ugly head and she had a moment of doubt. He was big. Certainly larger than anyone she’d been with previously. Another part of her was excited by it though, craved the feeling of him moving inside her, thick and hard.

  The spell was only broken by the returning buzz of his phone. It seemed that the phone was forever derailing their attempts.

  “Libby, reach into my pocket, grab that phone and smash it against the damn wall,” he growled.

  “No. It might be important,” she urged reluctantly.

  “Fine.” He sat up, moving away from her tormenting touch.

  When she started to rise, he placed a restraining hand on her stomach while he answered the call.

  *~*~*

  Gavin continued to touch and explore her as he impatiently barked into the phone. “Ronan, this’d better be good.”

  “The elevator is rigged, sir. There are small explosive devices attached to the brakes and in approximately fifteen minutes, they are going to blow.”

  “So get someone up here to pry the doors open,” Gavin demanded.

  “That’s not actually possible, sir. There’s a secondary device that will trigger them if we do that. The doors have been tampered with...and as the explosives are beneath the elevator, twenty stories up, we have no way of reaching them to dismantle them. Our only option is to get you out through the access panel above, but because our time is very limited, we need you working on getting through that panel now.”

  “Then do it,” Gavin ordered and snapped his phone shut. He sighed and gazed over at Libby. “I’m going to have to distract you later. Right now, we have a problem.”

  Libby had already begun buttoning her blouse. “Tell me what’s going on, and don’t sugar coat it.”

  “You know that saying about success breeding enemies?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s true... Since we started the Hypernion Project there have been several attempts on my life, and I’m afraid the elevator malfunction is the latest. The brakes are rigged with small explosives, and if we tamper with the door, they’ll go off... Please don’t hyperventilate, now. We don’t have time.”

  *~*~*

  Libby felt ill, literally ill. Trying to fight back the waves of nausea that assailed her along with the overwhelming urge to cry, she met his gaze and tried to be braver than she felt. “What do I need to do?

  “I’m going to lift you up and you’re going to climb out through the access panel onto the top of the car.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he promised. Cupping his hands and giving her a sly wink, he added, “Ditch the high heels. Ready?”

  Libby kicked off her shoes and allowed him to hoist her up. It took more effort to loosen the panel than she’d thought it would. By the time it finally crashed down, the corner hitting her just below her eye, her arms ached from the effort.

  “Can you climb through?”

  “I think so,” she answered while gripping the sides of the opening, and with a deep breath, she pulled herself up. Had it not been for Gavin, giving her more of a boost, she would’ve never made it on her own.

  Moving away from the opening to give him room, she stared at the blackness around her and tried to fight back the vertigo which made her want to retreat back to the relative safety of the metal box, even if it was rigged with explosives. How was it possible to go from the throes of passion to the throes of panic in less than a minute?

  Forcing her eyes open, she peered over the side and immediately wished she hadn’t. Beyond the edge of the elevator car was a twenty story drop.

  When Gavin appeared through the opening, climbing out with far more grace and ease than she had, she couldn’t stop the sigh of relief.

  He grinned at her. “Didn’t think I’d make it?”

  “Let’s just say I had my concerns—that was quite a jump to reach that opening. You actually look like you’re enjoying this!”

  Gavin gave her another wink as he shrugged his wide shoulders. A loud metallic cutting sound echoed out through the shaft. “That would be Ronan having them cut through the wall to get us out of here. Remind me that I need to give him a raise.”

  “Definitely,” she agreed. “He needs a raise. A promotion. A private island—anything he wants.”

  “Except you,” Gavin said. “You’re off limits to everyone but me.”

  “Gavin McBray doesn’t get possessive over women,” she reminded him.
“They’re expendable to him.”

  “Not you...I have plans for you, Liberty Jones. The minute they get us out of here, I’m taking you to my house in the Hamptons, throwing you on my bed and I’m going to do sinful, wicked things to your body,” he promised.

  In spite of her fear, in spite of knowing that they were sitting on an elevator car that could fall at any moment, Libby felt a shiver of something else at his words. “What about the things I want to do to you?” she shot back.

  “I’m game for anything you want to try,” he quipped with a huge grin.

  Within minutes, a gigantic chunk of masonry was pulled backwards into the hallway and a crew of men stood there wearing protective gear that looked to be military grade. This was his security team? He had his own bomb squad? She was in over her head. Way over her head. Even with the thought, she watched them string repelling lines over the support beams. There was no way in hell she was doing that.

  “If you hyperventilate in front of them, you know what I’ll have to do,” he warned against her ear.

  “We’re twenty stories up!”

  “It’ll be fun,” he defended.

  “You’re insane. This is not fun. This is ‘watch Libby become a pancake’!”

  “I won’t let you fall,” he promised as one of the other men repelled over, carrying extra gear.

  She watched as Gavin began stepping into the harness, his movements practiced and easy. Libby felt the scales tipping. From what she knew of this man, he didn’t make promises. It wasn’t his style. If he told her that, he meant it. “How can you be so sure?”

  “When I see something I want, I don’t let go of it.”

  There was no reason, no sane or rational reason, that she should have been able to think of anything other than the fact that they were standing on a metal box, rigged with explosives that could send them plummeting to their deaths. But at that moment, he seemed to be saying something much more significant. There was a weight and a promise in those words. “Okay,” she murmured. “But I don’t have a clue about what I’m doing.”

  “Just hold onto me,” he offered.

  “We have two minutes, sir,” the security person said.

  Libby stepped toward him and felt Gavin’s arms close around her. She closed her eyes and waited for the sensation of free fall. Her stomach churned until she felt the firmness of carpeted floor beneath her feet. It took only seconds, yet it felt like forever.

  Even as she was gasping for breath, there was no time to stop. She was pulled up from the floor and ushered down the hallway.

  “One minute, sir...The East stairwell is secure. That will be your exit.”

  Gavin nodded as he gripped her hand harder than seemed necessary and tugged her down the hallway to the stairwell entrance.

  Libby grimaced at the strong grip he had on her hand. Just as they cleared the door, she heard a series of pops, and then a sound unlike anything she’d ever heard. It was the elevator falling, crashing twenty stories. “Oh—God!”

  “We’re out and we’re safe,” he urged. “Don’t think about it.”

  Another security guard appeared, ushering them up the stairs toward the roof.

  She could hear the whirring of the helicopter. “We can’t just take off. The police will want to talk to us!”

  *~*~*

  When he’d hitched the harness, Gavin thought about her remark of before and he knew he would be lying if he didn’t acknowledge that part of him thrilled at the danger. It’d become such a natural part of his life.

  He’d long ago learned to channel the fear into a more positive direction. It would hardly endear him to her, but he finally had her to safety on the roof now and he would deal with all the details of the police later. “They’ll come to the Hamptons. I want you somewhere that’s protected... someplace where we can finish what we started,” he prompted while feeling a surge of exhilaration.

  Perhaps it was the thrill of danger or the promise of pleasure that awaited them, but he couldn’t stop himself from tasting her lips again. Tugging her into his arms, he kissed her soundly, the blades of the helicopter whipping her hair around them.

  He was so intent on the kiss, on sampling the sweet pleasures of her mouth, he didn’t hear the other helicopter or even notice the paparazzi that was all but hanging out the side of the bird, snapping rapid fire pictures of them.

  When he pulled back from her, they were both dazed, stunned by the fact that what they felt was more than simple desire. Taking her hand, more gently this time, Gavin led her to the helicopter and tried to recapture his own equilibrium.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Within minutes, they were settled into the aircraft, flying over the city and heading for his estate. It was surreal, and Libby wasn’t sure if it was the lust, the adrenaline rush, or the shock of nearly being killed.

  The very idea that she’d been in such close proximity to explosives was unfathomable to her.

  During the short flight, Gavin kept touching her, his hand at the small of her back, or covering her hands which trembled in her lap. Even then, he was on the phone. The police, the security detail, Ronan--issuing orders and handling a million details at once.

  It was dizzying and Libby had no idea how he was managing to function at that level after the events of the day.

  When the helicopter landed on the front lawn of the house, Libby once again, became acutely aware of how out of her depth she was. The house was larger than her entire apartment building. It was grand on a scale that left her flustered and nervous.

  When he took her hand and led from the chopper to the door that was already being opened by a security guard, Libby felt like Alice going down the rabbit hole. She knew that things would never be the same.

  It was hours before they were alone, and even then, they weren’t truly. Libby knew that there were guards throughout the house, and more patrolling the grounds.

  Police officers were still taking statements from the security crew that had been at McBray Enterprises. They were expected to spend the following day, looking at footage from the closed circuit cameras to see if anything looked out of the ordinary.

  Libby realized that she was completely exhausted, but far too wired to sleep as Gavin led her up the stairs to his bedroom. “Do you ever get lost in here?”

  “You know, most women try to act like it isn’t a big deal that I’m worth billions. But you? You’re looking for every obstacle you can throw between us,” he shot back. “I can see the wheels turning.”

  “Look, you could almost bail out the federal government. It’s—an issue. It makes me feel weird,” she admitted.

  “I have no intention of bailing out the federal government, and that’s an exaggeration. Look…I can’t unmake the billions. I could, but it would take a while, and I don’t think I’d like being poor.”

  Libby couldn’t help but laugh at that. “That’s the one thing you would probably be terrible at.”

  “I can’t sing either,” he teased. “I’d prove it you, but you’d never look at me the same way again and the odds of me talking you out of those sensible panties you have on would diminish rapidly.”

  “So, what do we do when we go back to work? I’m sleeping with you while making photocopies of memos and budget reports? People will find that very strange.”

  “Who will know?” he demanded.

  “Everyone who saw the news and you sweeping me away in your helicopter, and I imagine that photographer who took all those pictures of you, kissing me up there on the roof is going to sell them to every tabloid on the planet,” she finished making her a point with a flourish of her hand, as they finally reached his room.

  When he opened the heavy wooden door, she wasn’t sure what to expect. The house had been opulent but tasteful elsewhere, with classic furnishings and subtle, luxurious touches throughout. With the exception of his bedroom which was deeply, intensely masculine.

  The space was dominated by an antique four poster bed, but the posts were heavy
and simply carved. There was nothing delicate about it. Draped in rich green, the bed looked like a refuge. The walls were painted a light chocolate brown and vintage landscapes adorned the walls on either side of a massive fireplace.

  “So, where’s the big screen TV? Does it descend from the ceiling or is it concealed in the monstrous piece of furniture at the foot of the bed?”

  “How do you know I have a television in here?”

  “Men are hardwired to want a television in their bedrooms. They can’t function without them.”

  “It’s in the ceiling,” he admitted ruefully. “But I don’t plan on watching television tonight.”

  It was the rueful tone, along with a seeming humbleness in his words that made him seem human and accessible that eased the last of her reservations. So he was loaded, she thought. His wealth wasn’t the reason she was here.

  When she’d kissed him on that yacht at the party, she’d had no idea who he was at the time. She’d simply thought he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen, and that hadn’t changed.

  While he’d kissed her on the roof hours earlier, something inside her simply melted. A sudden wicked sense of headiness came over her and she decided to just go with it. “If TV is off limits, how do you propose to keep me entertained?”

  *~*~*

  Gavin stepped closer to her, advancing again and again, until she had no choice but to back up. Each step moving her closer to the massive bed, until her back rested against one of the heavy posts. “I’ve been chasing you since that damned party. All I had was your first name, and unusual as it is, that’s not a lot to go on in a city this size.”

  “I’m not running now,” she challenged.

  Gavin felt his blood heat and thicken in his viens; he felt the hunger for her rising inside him. Part of it was that he wanted her so badly; part of it was the events of the day with such a close call and he needed very much to feel alive.

  Pulling the hem of her blouse from her skirt, he didn’t bother with unbuttoning it. He simply tugged until the buttons went tumbling across the carpet and the fabric parted to reveal her prim and practical lingerie.