Some Like It Hot

by Brenda Jackson

  A lump formed in Sydney’s throat. She’d never participated in this part of lovemaking with Rafe, and found that simply watching Tyrone undress was so arousing it only added to her sweet torture. He was in perfect condition, with a well-muscled chest, and she was tempted to rub her bare breasts against it.

  She watched as he finally rid himself of his last piece of garment and let out a deep admiring sigh. The man was so beautifully made in every way it overwhelmed her senses.

  “Now, take off your panties,” he said heatedly. “I want to know all your hidden feminine secrets and I want to see them as well.”

  He lifted her off the bar, stood her on her feet, and slowly began tracing the outline of her panties with his fingertips. The sensuous caress made her moan with desire.

  “These are so skimpy, it’s like you aren’t wearing anything,” he whispered near her ear, his breath ragged. “This barely covers you.”

  Sydney shuddered from his touch. Her senses were approaching overload, and she didn’t think she could handle much more of his mind-blowing stimulation. “Tyrone, I—”

  His finger slipped past the edge of her panties to find just what she wanted. Instinctively she widened her legs for him. Her smoldering groan was all the invitation he needed to slip his finger into the dewy essence of her heat and stroke her even hotter.

  When she swooned, Tyrone picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. No sooner had he placed her on the bed than he joined her and removed the last barrier that shielded her body from him. Before she could react, his mouth replaced where his finger had been earlier and she all but screamed as he worshipped her body in a way no man had ever done before. His mouth knew the exact spot to increase the sensuous torture she was going through, and she couldn’t do anything but enjoy the sensations.

  When she thought there was no way she could possibly take anymore, he reached into the nightstand drawer and pull out a condom packet. With one hand still covering the heat of her mound, he used his mouth to rip open the packet.

  “Let me,” she found herself saying, then wondered how it was done. She’d never put a condom on a man before. Rafe always went into the bathroom to put his on, saying it was something a man did in private. Evidently Tyrone didn’t believe in that theory.

  After he nodded his consent, she took the packet from his mouth. Easing herself up in the bed, her gaze went to his erection. She sucked in a sharp breath, wondering how she was going to get something that big into a condom that looked so small.

  “I’ll instruct you,” Tyrone said huskily.

  She glanced up at him. Evidently he sensed her distress over not knowing what to do. She breathed in deeply. His masculine scent was overpowering and was driving her out of her mind. She reached out and splayed her fingers on his stomach before moving lower and capturing him in her hand.

  Following his instructions, she slowly sheathed him, liking the way the solid hardness of him felt in her hand. And for some reason she wasn’t embarrassed by what she was doing. Tyrone had a way of making her feel that anything they did in the bedroom together was all right, and she appreciated his letting her share in such an intimate part of their lovemaking.

  When she finished, she eased back down on the bed and he positioned himself above her, his legs on either side of her waist and his hard erection directly over her feminine mound.

  He held her gaze for a long moment. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman, Sydney,” he said huskily, easing his body down on top of hers just a little. “From the moment I saw you I knew I wanted you,” he said as he placed his hands under her hips and lifted her while he continued to gaze deep into her eyes.

  She held his gaze and watched his eyes grow darker and darker and she released a trembling sigh. She had to admit that although she hadn’t wanted to think about him that way, she had dreamed of them making love since she first met him. Something about the way he had looked at her that day had made her wonder about all the possibilities.

  She sucked in a deep breath the moment she felt the tip of his erection, hard and hot, press against the very essence of her womanhood. She spread her legs as he eased down and, inch by inch, began filling her body and becoming a part of her. He went deeper and deeper until it seemed there was no place left for him to go. He was inside of her, snug, tight, and her body began clenching him, sending waves of pleasure escalating through her.

  “Tyrone!”

  As soon as his name left her lips, he began moving, slowly at first to let her acquaint her body with his, to let her savor the feel of him inside of her. Then he began pumping hard and steady, making her body rock with his, sharing the rhythm he was creating for them. Each thrust he made into her took her closer and closer to something she had never experienced before, at least not in the magnitude that she knew awaited her.

  She sucked in a deep breath and held it when he increased the tempo. She knew he was playing her as expertly and skillfully as he would a musical instrument, and whatever tune he was playing for them was rocking and rolling her world. In the back of her mind, she could hear cymbals clashing, a drum beating, and a horn blasting, all at once. And she knew that only someone like Tyrone could let her experience such a thing. He made love the same way he made his music—all knowing, all caring, and all gifted. It was hard for her to believe that two people who supposedly didn’t love each other could share something this beautiful, this special and profound.

  She didn’t have time to dwell on that thought when she felt Tyrone’s hand lift her hips even higher to him and locked down on her in a circular motion that became more erotic than anything she’d ever experienced. He touched areas inside of her that had never been touched before.

  Her pulse pounded and her body suddenly exploded so hard and deep, she screamed. Tyrone’s answering deep, guttural groan made her realize that he was experiencing the same intense pleasure as she when he sank deeper and deeper inside of her.

  Another groan rumbled deep within his chest as he clutched her body tighter into the fit of his and shuddered from the force of his own climax. Instinctively she wrapped her legs tighter around him as he continued to thrust into her, causing her body to be swept up in an earth-shattering release for a second time. And she knew as the waves came crashing down on her yet again, that she wasn’t alone. The man who’d been an active participant in her dreams for over a year was there with her, once again tumbling through the boundaries of total fulfillment.

  Six

  Tyrone stared up at the ceiling, physically sated and mentally drained. Sydney slept peacefully beside him with one of her legs thrown over his. He had watched her face during her first orgasm, and the expression there had been so utterly and incredibly beautiful, he had wondered how any man could deny her such a rapturous moment. He had been overwhelmed by the depth of her pleasure. Clearly her needs had not been met for far too long. Even now he was tempted to wake her up and make love to her again but decided she needed her rest.

  And he needed to think.

  He would never admit it, but making love with Sydney had scared the daylights out of him. He didn’t think he had ever felt that way with another woman. He’d been so caught up in the scent and feel of her that he’d almost forgotten to use a second condom. If she hadn’t mentioned it, he would have engaged in unprotected lovemaking, something he had never done with any woman.

  And he had never allowed a woman to put a condom on him before. He preferred doing something that important himself just in case his partner didn’t do it right. He didn’t believe in careless accidents, and the last thing he wanted was to father a child, at least not at this stage in his life. But for once in his life the desire to have a woman was overriding his common sense, and all he could think about was making love to Sydney, over and over again. As a matter of fact, he was just waiting for her to wake up so he could get back inside of her.

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. The last thing he needed was to complicate his life by becoming attached
to any woman. Having Sydney in his dreams was one thing, but dallying with the real McCoy was another. He had to make sure he got things back in perspective and didn’t let his emotions get wrapped up in what was nothing more than great sex.

  He closed his eyes and wondered what had pushed him over the edge. God knows his body had suddenly seemed to become addicted to her. It was as if being inside of her with her body clenching him was the way things should be. After making love to her, the thought of making love to another woman was sacrilegious. He wanted Sydney and no other woman would do.

  He released a deep sigh, knowing he needed time alone to think. Easing her leg off his, he slipped out of bed, left the room, closing the door behind him, and went into the sitting room. Picking his jeans up off the floor, he put them on, went into the office, and closed the door. He picked up his sax, needing to hear the sound of it. Sitting in a chair, he began playing a soft tune, one he had composed over a year ago. He closed his eyes thinking, this is what he needed to clear his mind. His music always had a way of soothing him, of helping put things in perspective.

  He couldn’t recall just how long he’d been playing when suddenly, Sydney’s scent wrapped itself around him. He opened his eyes and saw her standing naked in the doorway. He wondered how long she’d been there, watching him and listening to him play. He ended the tune, placed the sax on the desk, and watched her watching him. His gaze swept her from head to toe. She was a beautiful woman and he appreciated the fact that she didn’t have any hang-ups about being nude in front of him. He liked a woman who wasn’t ashamed of her body, who wasn’t embarrassed for her man to see her in all her natural glory.

  Her man.

  He shook his head. He was getting way ahead of himself.

  “That was a beautiful piece, Tyrone,” she said softly, breaking the silence that had engulfed them. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

  He smiled. “And you wouldn’t have,” he answered. “It’s a number I composed over a year ago.”

  She nodded, her gaze lighted up in admiration for his skill as a musician. “What’s it called?”

  Tyrone’s gaze left hers and went to the sax on his desk. It was one of his prized possessions, a gift on his eighteenth birthday from his parents. It was on that sax, the very night of the day they’d met, that he had sat in his darkened bedroom, closed his eyes, and composed the piece that he had simply titled “Sydney.”

  When he met Sydney’s gaze again, he didn’t want to think about the significance of what he’d done that night and he didn’t want to give her false ideas by sharing it with her. “The name of it isn’t important. I’m just glad you liked it.”

  She nodded. “I do. It has such a soothing and romantic melody. While listening to it I could imagine being swept away in peaceful surrender,” she said breathlessly.

  “In peaceful surrender?” A heady rush of need flooded him as his gaze moved over her nude body.

  “Yes, it has that sort of an effect on me. It reminds me of some sort of love ballad. I can imagine a man playing that tune to the woman he loves, telling her with music just how much she means to him and just how much he wants her in his life.”

  Tyrone nodded and then, unable to help himself, he crossed the room to her, pulled her into his arms, held her close. Her naked body felt warm and soft against his, and he wondered what would become of him when their time in New York ended and they went their separate ways.

  Not wanting to dwell on that, he stepped back, unsnapped his jeans, pushed them down his legs, and stepped out of them. He reached out for her and pulled her back into his arms. He kissed her as if he were a starving man and her mouth was the only food he’d had in months.

  Moments later he pulled back, needing to be joined with her in another way. He reached out to gather her into his arms and she quickly placed a condom packet into his hand.

  “You almost forgot again,” she said smiling sensuously at him. “It’s a good thing I brought one out of the bedroom.”

  Tyrone could only nod and then took the time to do what was needed to protect her, again thinking how little control he had around her. He would hate for her to think that he wasn’t a responsible person, because he was.

  Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the bar stool and placed her on it, widening her legs as he did so. As soon as her bottom touched the seat he was there between her legs, seeking entry inside her. He clenched his jaw as he slid into her, leaning her back in his arms so he could go deeper, wanting to feel his body flush with hers.

  She wrapped her legs around him, locking him in place when he began moving. “Sydney,” he said her name as he pushed hard and began thrusting deep inside of her.

  When he felt her body milking him the only thing he could do was press forward and let her take whatever she wanted from him.

  He tried holding back, not ready for it to end, but she was clenching him too tight, her body’s demand was too forceful. Then in a deep, shuddering release, he gave her just what she wanted, what he wanted. And when he felt her come apart in his arms, he pulled her closer to him and his mouth devoured hers as sensation after sensation washed over him.

  A soft whine and an insistent scratching outside her bedroom door woke Sydney. She blinked, then realized that she was in her own bed and Denzel was on the other side of the door, letting her know that he needed to go out. She blinked again. It was barely morning, and Tyrone was sound asleep next to her.

  After making love again at his hotel, they had dressed and gone home to take care of Denzel’s needs. Then they had changed for dinner and, later that night had gone to a play. Afterward, they had stopped by his hotel only long enough for him to throw a few things into an overnight bag.

  As she slipped out of bed, everything they had done yesterday and last night came back to her in full force. She inhaled deeply as she put on her robe, thinking that if she never made love again to a man, Tyrone had definitely given her enough to last her a lifetime. Last night she had slept soundly—relaxed, sated, and peaceful.

  Now she realized with full clarity just what she had been missing during the year she had spent with Rafe. Even in the beginning, when their relationship was new and passionate, she had never felt the way Tyrone had made her feel yesterday and last night. Tyrone had shown her what a monumental mistake she’d made by letting Rafe control things in the bedroom. That was not how lovemaking worked. A woman was supposed to reap just as many benefits out of it as a man.

  Each time she had been with Tyrone, he had gone out of his way to make sure that she was right there, sharing in the pleasure with him.

  When she reached the dresser, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was tumbled in disarray around her shoulders, her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth looked as if it had been thoroughly kissed. She looked just like the woman she was, a woman who’d been made love to practically all night by the man she loved.

  Sydney whirled away from the mirror, her heart pounding. Love? There was no way she could use that word to describe what she felt for Tyrone. They had only spent two days together, so there was no way she could love him. Hadn’t she decided after Rafe that she would not fall in love again, at least not for a long time? What she was sharing with Tyrone was just a fling, nothing more. Now was not the time to get lust confused with love.

  Yet, as she slipped out of the bedroom and reached down to pick up Denzel, she knew she was only fooling herself if she denied her true feelings. She did love him, she had fallen in love with him the day they had first met. In a burst of clarity she knew that she had fought having any feelings for him because of Rafe and how he had disappointed her. She also didn’t want to admit how quickly she had fallen in love with Tyrone. Truthfully, she had stopped loving Rafe months before she’d given him the boot. His overinflated ego had begun playing on her nerves and she had begun losing whatever feelings she thought she’d had for him.

  Sydney glanced at the clock on the dresser. She needed time away from Tyrone to
think, and walking Denzel was just what the doctor ordered. Tyrone had told her last night that he had a class at ten this morning. She decided to prepare breakfast for him so that he wouldn’t have to worry about making a stop along the way. That was the least she could do for him.

  And there was no way she would let him know how she felt about him. He had told her up front that what they shared was not a prelude to love or to a commitment since he wasn’t interested in either. No matter how she felt, she had to respect his wishes and his feelings.

  Seven

  Tyrone leaned in the kitchen doorway and watched Sydney as she stood at the stove doing something that looked very much like cooking pancakes. He smiled, liking what he saw of her from behind. Need was like a living, breathing thing inside of him as his gaze centered on the curvaceous body beneath her short silk robe.

  He decided he could stand here and watch her like this all day. However, Denzel let out a rambunctious bark and raced over to him and Sydney quickly turned around and smiled.

  “Good morning.”

  He returned her smile and crossed the floor to her. “Good morning.”

  She automatically tilted up her face and he leaned down and kissed her. He had intended to just brush his lips across hers, but the moment she opened her mouth beneath his, the kiss turned heated as he savored her taste while running his hand down the smooth valley of her spine, pressing her closer to him.

  He released her when Denzel barked again. “What’s his problem?” he asked, nibbling at the corners of her mouth. “Hasn’t he been fed yet?”

  Sydney chuckled against his moist lips. “Yes. I guess he’s jealous.”

  Tyrone smiled. “Then I guess he’d better find himself a female of his own. Do you know if there’re any available ones in this neighborhood?”