“Wait here.” He tugged on the handbrake. “I’ve got to collect the keys.”
“It’s gorgeous.” She looked out her window at the tiny cottage overlooking the lake. “Wait—we’re not staying here?”
He grinned and hopped out of the car. “Nope.”
After a quick conversation and a man hug with David Komeke, Harley’s uncle and property manager/caretaker, Ben pocketed the keys and returned to the car. Harley’s place, loaned to friends and family but rarely stayed in by the man himself, was at the end of the road. Tires crunched over fine gravel as they wound upwards through groves of Douglas Fir.
Kezia spotted the huge grey stone and redwood house with the unobstructed and magnificent view of Lake Wakatipu spread picture-perfect below. “This? This is where we’re staying?”
“It’s Harley’s.” He parked in the spacious turnaround area off the driveway.
“Ford’s twin?”
“Says it’s ostentatious as hell, but you can’t beat the view or the natural light.”
“I can’t believe he lives in a New York apartment when he owns this incredible house. My God.” Kezia opened the door and climbed out.
Ben followed her, to where she looked down over the manicured gardens that Harley paid his uncle and aunt to maintain. “Even more amazing, he lets his riffraff brother and friends stay here whenever they want.”
He threaded his arms around her waist from behind. The one-eighty-degree view of the snow-dusted peaks on the opposite side of the lake dulled in comparison to the delicate curve of her neck, now exposed since she’d lost the bulky jersey on the ride here. Brushing curls aside, Ben kissed the column of her throat. Her breathing hitched, but she tilted her head to give him easier access.
Instant hard-on.
His fingers splayed wide over her belly, and muscles quivered beneath the dress’s silky fabric. Kissing her again, he let his lips linger on the spot where throat met shoulder.
“Wanna see the house?” he said.
Hell. Could that be the world’s worst euphemism for wanna ride me like a cowgirl?
Especially as his dick remained wedged like an iron bar into her spine. Yeah, he was a guy—a desperate, horny guy—but he hadn’t gone to all this effort only to jump her before they even opened the champagne chilling in the fridge.
He slipped his arms from around her, keeping his rock-hard boner to himself. “Sorry. I mean, literally see the house.”
She turned, all flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. His dick throbbed once—lemme at her—so he took a giant step backward. Totally unlike him, he gave in to nervous chatter.
“So, Harley’s place has got three levels and this big-ass stone fireplace that fits with the whole Nordic look—whoa!”
Kezia launched herself at him, squeezing his neck in a death grip, wrapping her legs around his hips. Her mouth, tasting like peppermint Tic-Tacs, sealed to his.
Both hands full of woman, with her hotness grinding against him, Ben moaned, sure his eyes were rolling back in his skull with the sheer perfection of having her in his arms. In about a minute, they’d be on the neatly mown lawn, scandalizing the Tui warbling in the flax bushes.
Like he’d psychically communicated the idea, Kezia pulled away. Their lips made a sexy, slurping sound. Make that thirty seconds.
“Forget tour. House. Bed. Now.”
She kissed him again, and the thrill of it—the electrifying, head-spinning, ball-tightening need he had for this woman in his arms—weakened his legs. He damn well nearly dropped them both to the grass.
With his dick pointing the way, Ben strode toward the front door.
“Wait!”
He froze, and Kezia wriggled down.
“We need something from the car,” she said.
An uncomprehending brain blip had him gawking at the flush riding high on her cheekbones.
“Protection.” She touched a fingertip to her lips, strawberry pink and swollen from his kisses. “There’s a box in my suitcase.”
Heat sparked and crackled between them, threatening to raze him to ashes.
He needed her that bad.
“Get them.” His voice sounded as if it came from somewhere over the hill, drowned out by the blood thundering past his eardrums. “Get them while I unlock the house and deactivate the alarm.”
***
Kezia dug through her suitcase until she unearthed her toiletry bag. With unsteady fingers, she grabbed the box of condoms. She left the open suitcase on the back seat and slammed the door.
This was crazy—not quite as crazy as Ben’s teasing suggestion of paragliding—but a close second.
They could take it slow, sit out on the house’s enormous deck and enjoy the tranquility of the late morning. Maybe drink some wine, guaranteed to be chilling inside. He’d gone to a lot of effort, had thought of everything, it seemed. They could pretend to be civilized adults, satisfied with wine and a lake view.
They could—but oh, how she wanted, how she needed to jump off that cliff and fly!
Her heels tapping across stone pavers, Kezia hurried up the short flight of stairs to the impressive, curved-wall entranceway. She stepped into a massive foyer. White-washed brick walls, polished wood floor, and there by a hat stand made from a single piece of driftwood, stood Ben. Half turned away from the door, he stabbed buttons on a small alarm panel.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Broad shoulders pulled the striped oxford shirt taut across his back. Jeans encased a butt so tightly rounded, a woman had to wonder what he did to deserve it. Maybe she’d ask, after a squeeze. Long, long legs. Corded arms with big, blunt hands. Tousled hair—it’d been smooth until she’d ruffled it up—and a rakish smile as he turned and caught her staring.
Take it slow, or fly?
Ben covered the gap in two long strides, pulling her up and off her feet as he crushed his mouth to hers. The box dropped to the floor.
Fly.
The taste of him, the hard-packed muscles under her fingertips as she clutched his biceps to draw herself closer, was as heady as any thrill-seeker’s adrenalin rush. He cupped her jaw, his deliciously firm lips taking, demanding, coaxing. His tongue feathered against hers, deepening the kiss until her blood crackled, an electrical storm raging through her veins.
Calloused hands ran down her side, found the ties at her waist and pulled. The folds of her dress swept aside, and his warm palm hooked under her knee, bringing her thigh up along his. God. Ben was hard—everywhere.
Hard and thick, straining the fly of his jeans.
Too many clothes, dammit.
She could help with that.
Dragging her mouth from his, Kezia located the first button of his shirt. Trying to jam the offending disc of plastic through the buttonhole made her hiss in frustration.
“Kezzy…” The ragged edge of his voice stopped her at the third devil button.
He’d barely touched her, yet she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“I have to touch you.”
Ben traced the swell of her breasts, brushing pebbled nipples under the peach-satin cups. She needed to touch him too, but the barrier of his shirt was suddenly too difficult to overcome with the heat of his touch melting her bones. He peeled the dress off her shoulders, and shivers skated up her spine at the accidental graze of her collarbone. The dress slithered to the floor.
“Going to do your six-second trick?”
“Haven’t got one hand out of action now, sweetheart. This won’t take six.” He flicked the front clasp on her bra and it popped open, her breasts spilling into his hands.
Ben knelt, his breath warm puffs on her skin as he drew her close, guiding her nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard, deep, and ribbons of pure lust twisted low in her body. She swayed forward, gasping his name. Lord, the man’s mouth could do some amazing things.
He tugged her peach panties down, leaving her breast long enough to mumble, “Nice undies, Kez, but they gotta go.”
She stepped out of
the panties. Forty bucks of satin and lace tossed without hesitation, and did she care? Not when his fingers spread apart her wetness and slipped inside. Not as a calloused thumb grazed her swollen core and had her writhing mindlessly.
He nudged her thighs wider. “Spread your legs, baby, and hold on.”
“Oh, God. Ben.”
She clutched at him, fisting handfuls of his hair as he dipped his head and put his mouth on her. His wicked mouth licked and nibbled and turned her to warm mush, melting her like ice stroked over hot skin. Sunlight streamed through the skylight, and she closed her eyes, unbearable pleasure shimmering in outward spirals from the swirl of his tongue, the long, sure strokes of his fingers.
“Please.”
She wasn’t beyond begging, especially when he pulled her gently to her knees in front of him.
“Greedy girl.”
He kissed her, and the taste of her passion on his lips had her quaking in his arms.
“Not fair.” She fumbled again with the diabolical buttons on his shirt. “One of us still has too many clothes on.”
He chuckled, a low, male rumble that increased the wetness between her legs tenfold. Merda! Those buttons—Kezia yanked the shirt edges apart, and buttons pinged across the wood floor. She’d sew them back on another day, but she needed—more than she needed her next breath—to touch him.
Her fingers trembled. Nerves or desperation? She wasn’t sure, but she splayed a hand on his bare chest. The man was fever hot, like a furnace roared to life underneath his sleekly sexy skin. Kezia traced a nail around his flat, light-brown nipple. A pulse bumped in his throat, and his breathing grew ragged.
“You’ve no idea how much I want you,” he said.
Judging by his sizable, denim-covered bulge, she had a pretty good clue.
Her hand skimmed across his skin to pop open his jeans button and Ben’s taut stomach jumped. She made short work of the zipper, peeling away the denim to reveal fitted black boxer shorts. The tip of his erection peeked out of the waistband’s elastic. Hottest advertisement for male underwear she’d ever seen. She eased his boxers down, and he stood thick and proud against a sprinkle of dark hair. Wrapping her fingers around him, she stroked the hard length.
Kezia was ready—could probably come by thinking about him inside her—but all she wanted was to touch. To slide her fist up and down his silky skin, to cup his balls drawn tight to his body in arousal, to take him in her mouth and devour him until he begged to surrender.
She ducked down, the flicker of her tongue along his shaft wrenching a sound from his throat. Good. He should pay for the exquisite torture she’d just suffered. Ben ground out her name, the tightness in his tone suggesting paper-thin control. Strong fingers tangled in her hair as his hips jerked forward. The salty-sweet taste of him sizzled through her body, scorched all inhibitions to ashes.
She pulled back to gauge his reaction.
Hooded eyes, glazed soft with passion, stared down at her. “You need to stop now or we won’t make it to a bed.”
They wouldn’t make it to a bed—they’d be lucky to make it onto the Oriental rug. Ben pulled her close, fitting them, finally, skin to skin. The damp length of him pulsed against her stomach. He kissed her mindless again and lowered her to the rug.
“Don’t you dare move.” He reached for the small box she’d dropped. His gaze flicked to her. “Forget that. Touch yourself until I suit up.”
“Ben!” His name joined a startled laugh on her lips.
“Pretty please.”
How could she resist him? Easy. She couldn’t. Kezia slid her fingers down her stomach, gliding them into slickness and stroking her swollen flesh.
“Baby, this’ll fuel my fantasies for years. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Kezia closed her eyes with a smile. “Hurry.”
Cellophane crinkled, and then the box plunked to the ground. Foil tore and he returned, running roughened hands up her legs and moving her out of the way.
“My turn.” He caressed her once, twice, his thumb gliding over her core.
Her eyes flickered open. A sensory overload of golden-tanned man-flesh, his jeans riding dangerously low on lean hips. “Ah—your clothes?”
“No time. We’re in a hurry.” He grinned at her and surged forward, covering her with his big body.
His smile. One glimpse of it and she was a goner. She dragged him down by the lapel of his shirt, kissing him with every pent-up desire, every second of lust-filled agony she’d spent imagining this moment.
Bracing on forearms either side of her head, Ben placed an open-mouthed kiss on her throat before he nailed her with a hot, unwavering gaze. He pulsed at her entrance, pushing an inch inside her because she was slippery with need.
They sucked in a ragged breath together—then another, as his hips thrust forward. Her body stretched around his thickness, a delicious fullness so all-encompassing that she whimpered as he ground into her again. Nothing mattered but the connection between them.
A slow dance sped into a frantic coupling, her nails lanced into his broad back, urging him faster, harder, a wordless order to take her higher and higher.
She flew—soaring out of herself and into the deep blue sky. Everything focused on the pleasure flinging her over the edge. Strong arms caught her as she cried out, his face buried in her neck as he continued to move within her, each stroke demonstrating raw power restrained. She could only hold fast until he shuddered, following her over with a muffled groan.
The floaty drift down to Earth was heralded by the deadweight of a satisfied man deliciously squishing her, and a curious scratching sound from the direction of the door.
Kezia rolled her head to the side, and Ben groaned.
“I think you broke me.” He applied his lips to the curve of her throat and sucked on a patch of skin.
He twitched deep inside her and her internal muscles clenched tight.
“Nope. Not broken after all,” he said.
Kezia lost the staring contest with the little sparrow hopping across the floor, the bird’s chattering likely a shocked statement about her being in flagrante delicto before an open door. A wide open door, with their parked rental car and a broad expanse of public road behind it.
“Ah, Ben?”
Warm lips nibbled her earlobe. “Mmm?”
Erogenous zones fired off warning alarms. In the distance, a lawnmower buzzed to life, the sound too close for comfort.
“Ben!”
Ben propped himself up on his forearms, making room for cool air to drift over her breasts. Her nipples sprang to attention. Again.
“Pretty.” Like a magpie spotting a shiny prize, his gaze zipped down, followed seconds later by his lips.
Wicked, wicked lips.
The sparrow chattered disapproval and flitted outside.
Threading her fingers through Ben’s hair, Kezia exerted upward pressure until her nipple popped free, then turned his face in her hands.
“Door.”
He twisted his head back and grinned. “So?”
She squeezed her internal muscles again. His sleepy-sex-sated eyes widened.
“Round two, since I didn’t break you?” she said.
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Door,” she said firmly, pulling him closer to kiss the smirk off his mouth.
“Yes, mistress.”
Chapter 13
Round two finished in the shower.
Round three in the kitchen, after they’d rinsed their champagne glasses.
Later, Ben took Kezia’s hand as they left the bistro where they’d eaten dinner. They crossed the road to lean against the stone-walled promenade overlooking Lake Wakatipu’s shore.
She squeezed his fingers with a sheepish smile. “Do you mind if I give Zoe a quick call? I told her even though I was staying with a friend, I’d ring her tonight.”
“Course not.”
While she dug in her purse, he snuck another glance at her ass, unfortunately covered in a wool coat.
The clingy dress underneath it fuelled his intention to strip it off ASAP. He couldn’t get enough naked-skin time with Kez. He’d kept her holed up all day in the house, so he’d felt compelled to take her into the town center for a meal.
Other couples strolled past, their footfalls echoing, their laughter swirling through the cool breeze blowing off the lake. Nothing pierced the little bubble separating him and Kez from the crowd of holiday makers. Hyper aware of her—down to the flowery scent of the shampoo he’d used on her hair in the shower—he moved closer.
Zoe’s voice squeaked out of the tiny speaker, then a flurry of ear-splitting yaps, intermingled with laughter and Jade’s shouted instructions.
His daughter’s voice was unmistakable, and something tugged inside his chest. Was she okay? Was she having fun with Piper and West? Had they remembered she liked to sleep with Bolt every night? Did she miss him at all? His hand flexed, itching for his phone. Maybe he should give the kid a quick call—not because he missed her, but to reassure her he’d be home soon from his “catch up with an old friend.”
Kezia chuckled, spoke a few words in Italian, and hung up. “They’re having a great time. They went to a movie with Piper, helped Shaye weed Mrs. Taylor’s garden, and kicked a ball with West. Now they’re knackered and about to play a few hands of Go Fish before bed.”
“West and my sisters know how to have fun with the girls.”
She dropped her phone into her purse and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. “They’re not the only ones, you know. You’re the boss of fun—according to Zoe and Jade.”
He looked down. “Get out.”
“It’s true. You taught them how to change tap washers—”
“Practical life skills—not fun.”
“They loved it, especially when you had a water fight with them afterwards.” She grinned. “And you’ve taken them fishing—”
“Every kid should know how to fish.”
“Played The Secret Ninja Strikes Again.”
Ben clapped a palm to his face. “Oh, hell, they told you about that?”
She arched up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I would’ve loved to have seen the three of you hiding and jumping out at each other.”
Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) Page 18
