“Landon.” She hadn’t meant to wail his name so desperately. But she was safe, she remembered. Safe to ask for what she wanted. “Please.”
He smiled, his cheek pressing against her inner thigh, and plucked her cotton underwear with his teeth. He let them go, and a sharp snap of elastic stung her skin. “That’s what I was waiting for,” he commented, his breath hot on her flesh.
Before she’d registered his thumbs hooking into the fabric, her panties were gone, swept down her legs and sailing over his head in the lamp-lit room.
Oh God. The lamp.
The light switch was on her left. She reached for it in an effort to extinguish the bulbs highlighting her exposed body parts in their unflattering glory. Her not-so-flat stomach, thighs more shapely than toned, her fair but lightly freckled skin…
So many imperfections. And being viewed by a man who’d last dated a woman who was the epitome of perfection.
Landon, on his knees before her, clamped on to her legs firmly and kissed her belly button. “Leave it, Kimber.” It was a warning. He darted his tongue over the skin low on her stomach. Reminding her how utterly bared to him she was.
“I can’t,” she pleaded. She stretched for the switch, almost touching it with the tip of her finger.
He abandoned her stomach, draped one of her legs over his shoulder, and licked her center. One long, slow, deliberate lick that made her quiver. “I said leave it,” he mumbled against her swollen flesh.
She considered the challenge in his voice, the fire in his eyes, as he watched her. Testing him one last time, she reached for the switch again. He slicked his tongue along the most intimate part of her, a little longer, a little slower, but with increased pressure. A breathy moan escaped her throat.
He pulled his mouth away, his gaze as sharp and as authoritative as his voice. “Do it again and I’ll stop.” Lines bracketed his lips as they spread into a smile. “And trust me. You do not want me to stop.”
She knew better than to challenge him again. Doing her best to forget the lights, she dropped her arm. He grasped her hand and put it on top of his head. As she ran her fingers through the silken strands of his short hair, he nestled between her legs. She surrendered to his ministrations, the feel of his sweet, sensual mouth against her. When the pressure mounted, she stood on her tiptoes, her entire body coiling. He kissed and suckled her, adjusting his pace to her whimpers of pleasure. At the pinnacle of her release, she writhed against the door, attempting to disentangle her legs from his solid arms. To get away, to push closer… she didn’t even know anymore.
But he didn’t let her.
She pushed gently against his head, her voice coming out strained and watery. “Landon, I can’t.” She was on the edge of either something miraculous, or something that might kill her. Intense, forceful feelings washed through her body, tightening her muscles, igniting her nerve endings. He ignored her verbal pleas for him to stop, listening instead to the ones from her body begging him to continue.
Finally, she surrendered, losing herself in the myriad of sensations accosting her, to the bursts of light popping like flashbulbs on the screens of her eyelids. He had tapped into some deep, undeniably sexual part of her she’d never fully experienced before. Not like this. It exhilarated her to be taken so thoroughly, so confidently, the only goal on her partner’s mind her complete and utter release. He released her elevated foot to the floor. She lost the urge to stop him and spread her legs wider instead.
Not stopping his careful work, he pulled her hands from his head. When he tucked them between her bottom and the door, she pressed the cushiony flesh against her fingers, trapping herself there. Boldly, she met his eyes and felt her face heat along with every other part of her body, as if her blood had turned to lava. She twisted her fingers together behind her back, obeying his unspoken command to hold herself there, and watched him. He wanted her to watch, to stop trying to stop him. His movements slowed, his tongue slicking over her. He kept his gaze glued to hers. She was so, so close. Her body jerked. He repeated the motion, pressing the tip of his tongue against her solidly. She moaned her approval.
“Kimber.” His voice rumbled against her. “Come for me.” He closed his eyes and laved her… savored her like he was tasting a fine wine. One more stroke and she obeyed, spinning out of control, her release taking every dab of tension from her body. All the insecurity and stress and worry washed away in one shuddering, insatiable orgasm.
He held fast to her legs, taking on her dead weight as she slid helplessly down the door, her hands skimming the polished wood behind her. When she would have reached the floor, he caught her on his lap and palmed her back.
His next kiss landed on her neck, the one after that beneath her ear. “Delicious,” he breathed, causing her to tremble. Or maybe she’d never stopped. “Every inch of you.” He sampled her earlobe and she shivered again, bringing up her shoulder to keep him from tickling her to death.
“Stop.” She chuckled, the sound no more than a wheeze. A pathetically puny wheeze.
“Not a chance,” he said. “Can you make it to the bed? I have nine and a half more things to do to you.”
She laughed again, a weak, dry sound. “That was only half of item number one?” she managed.
“Yes.”
Half. Good Lord, she might die by the time they got to the second thing. Whatever that was.
Kimber opened her eyes lazily, legs shaking as he helped her stand. She followed his backward steps to the bed, the gold and green flowered comforter rumpled where she’d lain and waited for him minutes ago. Or hours ago? She had no idea. It was like she’d fallen into some sort of lusty black hole. When he got her to the bed, she fell gracelessly onto a pillow.
“Is this how you’re going to react after every orgasm?” he teased. He crawled over top of her, his pants brushing against her legs.
Wait. Pants? She was stark naked and he was still wearing pants. No fair.
“Because we won’t get very far if you require lengthy recovery after each one,” he continued.
After each one. Normally, she considered herself lucky to get one orgasm. And that last one was about five times better than any she’d had in the past. The way he talked, he had several planned. The tantalizing promise of more returned the strength to her fingers.
She unbuttoned his pants. “Guess I’d better buck up, then.”
He grinned and she eyed the dent in his chin. He was so gorgeous it hurt her heart a little. No hearts, she reminded herself sternly. No heartstrings. No fluffy, bouncy, rainbow poodles.
Right. Just sex. Well, obviously not just sex. More like delicious, amazing, consensual, walk-away-without-regrets sex. She could handle that. She could handle a whole lot of that.
She slid his pants past his hips, over a pair of black boxer briefs and the same jutting bulge she’d brushed her fingers over earlier. He sucked in a breath between his teeth when she grazed the back of her hand over his erection.
There wasn’t anything more fun than watching his control ebb. His nostrils flared, teeth bared in an almost grimace as she slipped her hand past the last barrier of cotton.
“What’s next on your list?” She massaged the length of his shaft. “Tell me,” she demanded.
His eyes had grown dark. He kept his gaze on her and wet his lips to answer. “Ladies choice,” he said in a near growl.
She squeezed him. He grunted. She squeezed again and he slid up her body and kissed her hard, his tongue invading her mouth, his teeth scraping her lips. She drank him in but didn’t stop her intimate massage. Not yet. He wasn’t so in charge now, was he? He wasn’t slow and intentional. Since he’d delighted in torturing her, it seemed only fair to return the favor.
“Losing some of your control, I see,” she said. She toed away his pants, slipping them down his legs. When they got tangled at his shins, he wrestled himself free with one hand, bracing his weight with his other arm. When the muscles lengthened and tightened there, she grasped his bicep with
her free hand and pursed her lips. “Nice.”
The nudge of his erection pressed against her core. Oh, no he didn’t. She’d had about enough of him calling the shots. She pressed her palms into his chest. “On your back.”
His eyes narrowed but she could see the flare of excitement there. He wanted to let go. To let her have her way with him.
“You said I could get whatever I wanted.” She was paraphrasing, but whatever. He was in no position to argue. “Lie down.”
He obeyed and she climbed on top of him. He caught her hips in his hands. “Like on the patio,” he said. “You like this position.”
“You’re about to like it, too,” she promised, moving one of his hands above his head and anchoring it to the pillow. She lifted his other hand, and his eyes darkened to almost black. “Don’t move.” Oh yeah. He liked this. He watched her under hooded lids, his muscular chest heaving as she pulled his briefs down his legs and freed his springing erection.
Wow. His penis was as beautiful as the rest of him. Long and hard, yet velvety soft. It bobbed. She met his eyes and he grinned. The site of an easy grin on Landon’s face nearly undid her. He was so relaxed, so easy to be with right now. No shutters blocking out the light in his eyes. No proper rigidity protecting him like armor.
Tin Man, my ass.
Afraid her thoughts were straying outside of the confines of their agreement, she licked her lips seductively, thrilling when he tensed. She cupped his balls and his smile vanished. She was okay with that. He could smile later, when she was done with him. Lowering her head, she took him into her mouth. His body bucked the moment her tongue stroked him.
She pulled the most exquisite groan from his throat and mentally high-fived herself.
Oh, yes. This round would definitely go to her.
CHAPTER TEN
Landon had escaped Kimber’s room before sunrise, showered, dressed, and reconvened in the kitchen. Lyon was in the living room, watching cartoons upside down, his head on the ground, feet propped on the couch.
“Good morning.” Evan grinned. A shit-eating one. He abandoned the newspaper spread across the breakfast bar and studied Landon through narrowed eyes.
“How was your room?” Landon fired up the espresso maker and pulled a petite mug from the cabinet. Then traded it out for a larger size. Better make it a double. He was exhausted. In the best way humanly possible.
Flashes of what happened with Kimber lit his brain like a flickering movie reel. Her hot mouth wrapped around him, her caressing hands on his skin, her soft mewls of pleasure when he’d finally entered her. The way she’d laid against him after they’d made love: her hair sticking to her damp brow, how she’d been nearly incoherent as she praised his hard work. They’d finally stopped because they had to, collapsing in a heap of sweaty limbs and labored breathing. They’d managed a few hours of sleep before sunrise.
But he wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot. He planned on extending the list to ensure they didn’t reach the end too soon.
“How was yours?” Evan hopped off the stool and rummaged through the refrigerator.
Landon shook his head, watching the espresso maker empty the black brew into his mug. He refused to grace his nosy brother with an answer.
“Oh man.” Evan leaned against the counter and took a bite out of an apple. He chewed, pointing with the hand that held the Red Delicious. “Her room. Nicely played.”
Yes, they’d played. They’d laughed and moaned one another’s names and panted and played. It was cathartic and amazing, and not something he’d been used to. Over the years, sex had yielded a much-needed release, but he didn’t remember it being particularly fun. Then again, he hadn’t had sex in… a while. If he admitted how long, Evan would laugh him right off the balcony.
“When you taking off?” He collected his cup out from under the maker and spooned in a few granules of raw brown sugar.
“Okay, fine. I guess this isn’t the time or the place to talk about your sexcapades.” Evan took another bite out of his apple.
Landon sipped his coffee. Strong and sweet. Like Kimber. “Do you really expect me to talk about her with you? Lyon’s in the other room and she is—”
Amazing. Honest and pure. Transparent.
Her words from last night crashed into him. I need to be cherished. How could he not grant that request? Her feminine tenderness was a call his masculine strength had to answer. He couldn’t begin to describe the way she’d been so… there with him in that room last night. Present.
In the past, he’d wondered if Lissa had been reciting her to-do list or mentally packing for her next trip for how little she’d been involved in the act. But Kimber… her eyes on his, their breathing in sync as he slid in and out of her body… she’d been fantastically different from what he’d grown accustomed to in the past.
Or what you settled for. There was an alarming idea.
His lips turned downward. He had to get a grip. She’d laid out the rules, and he’d promised to adhere to them. They knew what this was. He couldn’t start thinking about how amazing she was, couldn’t fold her close when she was supposed to keep him at arm’s length. Enjoying himself was one thing, starting to think of her as anything else was forbidden. He didn’t remember his emotions being a problem he’d had to contend with before now.
Except with Rachel. He scrunched his eyes to block that thought. Any thoughts of her, of the tragic summer sixteen years ago. Don’t freaking go there.
Evan finished chewing and chucked the apple core into the trash can across the room.
“Good shot,” Landon commented.
“So. You going to keep seeing her?” Evan asked.
Only as long as they had the list. Not like he would tell Evan about that, though. His brother would either accuse him of taking advantage of her, or accuse him of being a machine.
He took another drink of his coffee to buy himself time. Another thought hit him and he pulled the mug away and mumbled a curse. “I have to pay her,” he said.
“Yes, you do. Cheapskate.”
He sent his brother a bland look. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I know what you mean. Money exchanging hands is awkward at this point.” Evan clucked his tongue. “Couldn’t have waited one more day?”
“Right,” he said, his brother’s sarcasm apparently contagious. “Because timing could have cleared all this up.”
Kimber picked that moment to step into the kitchen. She wore a white sleeveless shirt showcasing her toned, slender arms and a pair of cotton shorts revealing way more of her luscious legs than he wanted Evan seeing. She ran a hand through her damp, freshly showered hair and a memory lit his brain. Kimber beneath him, arms pinned over her head, face flushed, mouth open in a sensual sigh.
He’d have to see about adding to that list.
“You look refreshed,” Evan told her.
After his boneheaded brother left.
She offered a light punch on Evan’s arm as she passed by, eyeing Landon through her lashes. “Have one of those for me?”
“Sure.” He reached for the cabinet, using the excuse to send Evan a telepathic message to give them a minute. But Evan was already backing out of the kitchen, palms raised as he mouthed the words “Good luck.”
Landon got to work on Kimber’s coffee while she leaned against the counter and studied her sneakers. “You don’t have to feel strange about paying me.”
He pressed his lips together. “You heard.”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to be weird about it. It’s fine. It’s good.”
The television in the other room was tuned to cartoons. Zany, silly sounds punctuated by Lyon’s and Evan’s laughter assured him they weren’t being overheard. He stepped closer to Kimber, using whatever excuse he could to be close to her again. A voice in his head warned that wasn’t advised. He ignored it.
“How are you feeling today?” He laid a kiss onto her temple, hiding the smile he couldn’t keep off his face.
> She turned her head and spoke into his ear. “Amazing.”
Gooseflesh erupted on his arms. Hands he didn’t remember grasping her with tightened their hold on her body.
“Landon,” she said on a soft giggle. “Not now,” she whispered.
He looked into her eyes, lowered his lips to hers for a silent kiss, then forced himself to back away. He handed over her coffee. She sipped. What had she meant by not now? Because the second his brother was out of here, he wouldn’t mind taking her straight back to bed.
He stifled a yawn. After another espresso.
“What are you doing tonight?” As soon as it was out, he had to fight to keep from retracting his question. He’d meant to play it cool, not ask her out within sixty seconds of laying eyes on her. What the hell?
“What do you mean?”
Her question did nothing to answer his, and put him at a disadvantage if he answered first. What if she didn’t want him again so soon? In an attempt to be coy, he lowered his lips to her ear. “What do you think I mean?”
When he pulled away, she was smiling, looking shy and beautiful and damn, she smelled good. He made a mental note to keep her stocked in cucumber body products for as long as this thing between them lasted.
“I think I’d like that,” she said.
She thought? “You think?” he repeated, feeling wounded. What. The. Hell.
“What do you think?” she parroted his words back to him, again giving him absolutely nothing to go on.
What did he think? He thought he’d like to see her out of those clothes within the hour. He thought he’d like to get her out of this penthouse and buy her a vintage or custom-made dress of her choosing. He thought he’d like to see her smiling at him over a candlelit table in the corner of an Italian restaurant.
The Millionaire Affair (Love in the Balance) Page 13
