by Lori Wilde
She tucked her clutch purse underneath her left arm and held out her right hand. “Thank you for coming to my rescue and playing Prince Charming. I had a lovely evening.”
A so-did-I smile plucked up the corners of his mouth. She supposed a handshake was ridiculous when they’d shared such a passionate kiss, but it was all she was prepared to offer. He took her hand, held it for too long, stared deeply into her eyes. She felt so many things at once—nervousness, attraction, sexual frustration—and he was the cause of it all.
The impulsive part of her she’d kept strapped inside a straitjacket for thirty years wanted nothing more than to grab him by the collar, lead him off to some darkened recess, and jump his beautiful bones right then and there. Jodi felt her entire body grow warm. She felt as if she was sliding, melting, losing her grip. She yearned for what his lips promised—sex and lots of it.
But she was afraid of it too. Afraid of what his passion might unleash in her. Afraid that if she got a real taste of him she’d become addicted and couldn’t live without him.
His skin was flushed and there was a languidness to him that she found engaging. Jodi realized that even though he didn’t show it, he was nervous about this attraction too. And she liked that. His nervousness made him more approachable and it meant he wasn’t stuck on himself.
Every cell in her body ached. She met his eyes, mentally begging him to kiss her again.
He read her thoughts perfectly, and pulled her into his arms. A little forcefully, but in a good way, and crushed his mouth against hers. It seemed he knew exactly what she wanted.
Her pulse fluttered as he deepened the kiss, and their surroundings were forgotten as she got swept up in his taste.
She felt the sharp poke of his erection pressing hard against her thigh, and a thrust of dizziness nearly crumpled her knees out from under her. He was long, thick, and hard. She thought of their naked limbs entwined. Imagined him inside her, filling her up, making her whole.
Ridiculous. Romantic rubbish. One person could not complete another. They were people, not jigsaw puzzles. But secretly, she wanted to believe.
Her fingers curled around his biceps and she clung to him, afraid if she let go she would topple over.
He was at once both oddly volatile and incredibly steady. His lips were wild but his inner core unshakable. She could feel his solidity in the calm way his hands held hers. But his mouth! That astounding mouth was a furnace, hot, hazardous, and unquenchable.
The wind kicked up, blew a frosty chill and a flurry of snow over them. She remembered how he’d held her on the dance floor. And how she didn’t want to say good-bye, and catch a cab back to her lonely room at the Motel 6. She swayed, unsteady on her feet from too much possibility and too much pie, wobbly on her high heels and fears.
Jake’s palm was still clasped against hers, his fingers locked around her wrist, his eyes hot on her face.
How easy it would be to give him her name and phone number and tell him to call her, to start a relationship with him. But she was far from ready for that. So she said nothing. Held her tongue. Kept Gwendolyn and her desires tucked into a tidy corner of her mind that had nothing to do with real life.
Finally, he dropped her hand and stepped away.
She fingered her branded lips. “Well.” She straightened. “Goodbye.”
He hesitated as if he was going to argue, but then he nodded and turned to go inside the hotel.
“You’re staying at the Grand Texan?” she asked.
He paused, looked over his shoulder at her. “I am.”
For some reason that answer stirred up the goose bumps again. Cold. It was because she was cold, not because she was imagining just how daring it would be to follow him upstairs to his hotel room.
A long moment of silence passed.
“Good night again,” she said.
“Good night.” He didn’t move.
She could smell the faint hint of his cologne, something woodsy and masculine. If she swung her hand at her side, her fingertips would graze his outer thigh. Her heart jumped. Missed opportunity, two ships passing in the night, blah, blah.
He shifted toward her and she was sucked straight into his aura, both fiery and cool. Everything about him was fresh and exciting. He was wholly exotic, a sophisticated visitor who intrigued her like an intricate renovation project.
“Goodbye, Gwendolyn,” he murmured. “Have a nice life.”
CHAPTER 4
Jodi Carlyle’s Wedding Crasher Rules: Don’t linger too
long.
Jake disappeared into the building.
Jodi exhaled.
Whew. Close one. Crisis averted. All he had to do was ask her to come upstairs and she would have gone. That’s how fragile—and let’s face it, sex-starved—she was.
Good job.
She’d done what she’d set out to do. She’d successfully crashed a wedding, danced with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Smart Aleck. Faced her wedding phobia so she could move on after Ryan and be the best maid of honor she could possibly be to Breeanne. And she’d managed to do it all while still hanging on—albeit by a thread—to her self-control.
Hunching her shoulders deeper into her coat, she huddled on the sidewalk, glanced up and down the snow-slick streets. No cabs in sight. When she’d planned to catch a cab back to her motel, she hadn’t expected to be out this late, or for the snow to be coming down so steadily. But surely one would be along in a minute.
No sign of the valet either.
She paced to the end of the hotel’s expansive driveway, feeling like a target in her wedding finery and high heels. This was dumb. She should wait in the lobby. And risk running into Jake again? No thank you. She shivered. Where was a taxi when you needed one?
“Come on, come on,” she muttered, pulled out her cell phone to check the time, and was surprised to see it was nearly midnight. No wonder the place was dead. She was just about to call the cab company when footsteps sounded behind her.
Her heart leaped into her throat. How stupid of her not to have waited inside. She fumbled in her purse for pepper spray. Found it, and with the canister in her palm, finger on the nozzle, she whirled, growled, “Back off!”
Jake raised both arms. “Don’t shoot.”
“Oh,” she said, and let out a breath. “It’s you.”
For a moment, they stood like statues, gazes locked.
“You know how to protect yourself,” he said, approval in his eyes.
She dropped the pepper spray back inside her handbag. She hated to admit it, but she was glad to see him. “You came back.”
“What kind of guy would let you stand out here alone?” He gestured vaguely at the sky. The wind blew harder, sending the snow falling at a sharp angle. “Let’s get in out of the weather.”
The combination of his handsome smile, his delicious masculine smell, and the increasing cold dismantled her. She nodded. He hooked her elbow again and guided her inside. They waited together in the lobby, not speaking, staring out the window at the snow coming down. Behind them, a crackling fire in the fireplace warmed their backs.
She glanced over at him. “Really, I’m good. You don’t have to wait with me.”
“I don’t mind.” His shrug was casual as a river, long and slow. The earnestness in his eyes unnerved her. Why did he have to be so nice?
A Christmas tree still stood in the lobby, the star at the top almost touching the ceiling. The multicolored lights winked merrily, throwing soft colors of the rainbow around the room, making everything seemed translucent, and transformed.
His eyes were dark and mysterious. He spread his palms wide and pressed them against his outer thighs as if to keep from touching her. He leaned toward her, and she found herself helplessly leaning in toward him. All it would take was another kiss from those rugged lips and she’d dissolve like sugar in hot coffee.
And judging from the look he was giving her, he knew it.
The air around them snapped with sexual energy. His gaze hung
on her mouth and he angled his head lower.
Was he going to kiss her again? Right here in the lobby with the desk clerk watching them from behind the polished marble registration desk?
She saw invitation in his eyes but he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. She flicked her tongue out to moisten her lips.
“A taxi just pulled up.” He nodded toward the street.
“Did it?”
“Which is a damn lucky thing, because I was just about to ask you up to my room.”
“You were?”
“I was.”
Jodi knew a crossroads when she saw one, and she had always chosen the well-traveled path. She wasn’t a gambler. Taking unnecessary risks wasn’t smart. But his eyes promised the pleasure of great sex, and she longed to take him up on the offer.
Did she dare?
Shocking herself, she wrapped a hand around his forearm, gazed up at him with earnest eyes. “So ask.”
He blew out his breath, cupped her chin in his palm, and tipped her face up to his.
Jodi’s heart was a battering ram slamming against her chest. She could do this. She could have a one-night fling. Put a delightful affair in a box inside her mind, and label it “Jodi’s One Wild Night.” If she could do that, she would be safe. Tidy. Organized. Controlled. Just like always.
Jake brushed his lips over hers. Not so much a kiss as the promise of one. Then he pressed his mouth to the pulse beating at her throat. Heat shot through her body, pooling low in her abdomen. Her natural impulse was to push him away, to deny the powerful pull. His kiss scared her that much.
Her voice came out strangled. “Jake.”
His lips were back on hers in a feather-soft kiss. She had to have more. Against all common sense, she curved her body against his and opened up her jaw. Hungrily, he devoured her.
She liked it. She liked it a lot.
He possessed her.
Daring Gwendolyn could not resist temptation. She wasn’t about to wrench her mouth from his. Not for a million dollars.
Dreamy heat swirled through her body. Would it be so wrong to have just one night with him? They were both mature, consenting adults, they were both unattached, and attracted to each other. What could possibly be the harm in letting nature take its course?
He bit her gently and she almost yelped. Not because he’d hurt her, but because his boldness took her by surprise. Had she ever in her life been this turned on?
If she had, she couldn’t remember when.
His mouth was alive, kissing, nibbling, suckling her in a way only a devoted lover could. He wanted her. That much was clear.
A shiver shook her spine. He tasted so delicious and he was so damn sexy.
How had she gotten here, in this unreal fantasy? In the lobby kissing a strong, gorgeous stranger who could so easily ruin her. And why did that thought make her so hot?
He pulled back and looked into her eyes. The unspoken question hung there. He was waiting for her to answer it. Come upstairs with me.
She unfastened her caution, flung it into the wind. “Take me to bed, Jake. Take me there now.”
Standing in the hallway with Gwendolyn cradled in the crook of his arm, Jake tried to slip the electronic key through the card reader while still kissing her. He was so nervous, wanted her so badly that his thumbs wouldn’t function properly.
He had one thought and one thought only. Make this a night to remember.
Because women like Gwendolyn didn’t come along every day. Smart. Strong. Funny. He’d take whatever she was willing to give him.
He wanted her. That’s why he’d gone back outside. Yes, he’d wanted to make sure she was safe, but he could have watched over her from the shadows. He’d gone back to her because he enjoyed looking at her, holding her, smelling her, feeling her.
And now, here she was, in his arms, and by all indications, he was going to have her.
After three failed attempts, and a few choice words, he finally got the door open and they tumbled inside. She giggled and fell against him.
The door slammed closed behind them. A statement. They were doing this. He yanked off his tuxedo jacket, tossed it across a chair. She carefully set her purse on the desk, went to the closet for a coat hanger, and moved to hang up his coat.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
“I like things tidy,” she said.
“That OCD thing?”
She shrugged.
“Screw the coat.” He lightly bit her neck. “Screw tidy.”
“I—”
“You’re killing the mood.” He took the coat from her hand, flung it across the room. “Come here.”
She laughed, and sank into his arms. He branded her with another scorching kiss. She tasted so damn good. Honeyed heaven. Devilishly, she tickled the roof of his mouth with the tip of her tongue.
Jake groaned. He was gone. Blitzed as a frat boy at his first kegger.
Her mouth was on his and her arms were twined around his neck. He could feel her heart thumping, jackrabbit fast. Was she scared? He hoped she wasn’t scared. He didn’t want to scare her.
Excited was good, scared, not so much.
“It’s okay,” he murmured against her lips. “It’s gonna be fine. Relax.”
He realized then that his own heart had picked up her frantic rhythm and he was breathing as hard and fast as she was. Or maybe she’d picked up his.
Take your own advice, Coronado. Get a grip on yourself.
Hell, how could he relax when her lips were so soft, and warm, and willing? He felt ambushed, but that was dumb because he was the one who’d started this.
Christ, he’d only met her six hours ago and she had him so crazy he could hammer nails with his dick.
She lifted her chin and closed her eyes. Her face turned up to him, so trusting and defenseless. He studied her features, memorized them, and tucked them away in the back of his brain, a memento of this night—the taste of sweet, minty moistness, her mouth burning against his, her fingers interlaced around his back as they waltzed dizzily across the room, Gwendolyn softly humming one of the songs from the wedding, “Kiss You.”
Struggling for self-control, he attempted to change the pace and kiss her gently, but the kiss came off much rougher than he intended. She was so eager, so pliable, so damn tasty that he couldn’t slow down if his life depended on it.
She rattled him to the bone. Rattled the pane right out of his window. Had he ever been so perturbed? He cast his mind back, trying to remember his first time with Maura, but he couldn’t recall a damn thing.
That scared and sobered him, and he was about to stop kissing her and reorient himself, but he’d triggered something inside her and Gwendolyn wasn’t backing off. She tangled her fingers in his hair, letting him know that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Good. Fine. He didn’t want to back off. He pulled her hips against his, but her weight shifted and he lost his balance and they ended up sprawled on the bed together, laughing.
Jake was on his back and she was astride him.
Ferociously, she tugged his shirt from his suit pants and plowed her hands, small and hot, underneath the shirt to skate her palms over his bare belly. Then she lowered her head and planted hot kisses around his navel.
Oh shit. He was in deep water.
She stroked his chest with a fingernail.
His body burst into flames. His blood burned and his groin throbbed. He hadn’t been with a woman in almost a year. That’s why he was so hard. So blindsided. Hell, he was lusty as a pirate and all he could think of was stealing himself some booty.
A soft moan of pleasure slid from her throat. He cupped her face between his palms and ignored the part of him that warned things were moving way too fast. He knew that. He didn’t care.
Her body promised sweet delight. Her skin was so sensitive, her mouth so full and ripe. Dreamily, he caressed her, enchanted, entranced.
She traced her thumbs over his nipples and Jake groaned aloud. The breath
left his lungs along with the sound. He grabbed her hips and pressed her flush against his pelvis, letting her see exactly what she was doing to him and what he ached to do to her.
“Ooh.” Her eyes widened.
The bedsprings creaked beneath their weight, but he didn’t care how noisy it got. He had to have her.
He flipped her over, pinning her to the pillow-top mattress, and speared his fingers through her lush auburn hair, held her in place while he savaged her with kisses.
She wrapped a come-here-big-boy leg around his waist, simultaneously opening her mouth and letting his tongue slip deeper. She tasted incredible—rich and robust and rocking hot.
“I want you, Jake. I want to feel you inside of me,” she murmured.
“We’ve got all night. Let’s take our time.” He said it as much to convince himself as her. What he wanted to do was hike up the skirt of her dress, strip off her panties, and plunge into her hard and fast.
Disoriented by how out of control he felt, he paused and lifted his head. Noticed snowflakes dancing prettily outside the window. Christmas lights on the roof reflected a soft yellow-white glow into the room. She turned her head to see what he was looking at.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “I feel like Santa left my Christmas gift a week late.”
Her smile turned wicked as she dropped her shoulders back to the mattress and stared up at him, her lips glistening from his kiss.
She felt so damn good against him, her body molded to his, feminine and strong. He reached for the zipper of her dress, but she planted a palm against the flat of his chest and pushed him away.
“What is it?” he rasped huskily.
“Wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Sit down,” she commanded, and patted the mattress with her hand.
Jake obeyed, swinging his legs off the bed and sitting upright. She stood. Where was she going? A pill of disappointment wedged against his tongue. Had she changed her mind? Was she leaving?
No, babe, don’t go!
She stepped away from him and in the dim, misty light from the window, slowly began to disrobe, sliding down the zipper of her dress inch by inch in excruciating slow motion, glancing up now and again to shoot him provocative looks over her shoulder.
