Between the Sheets

by P. J. Mellor

  The bloodred polish on her toes flashed in the sunlight. Lord, she even had sexy toes. He shifted to accommodate his renewed arousal.

  She evidently noticed the direction of his gaze. “Where are my fucking shoes?” Was that a hint of tears in her voice?

  Mute, he pointed toward the living room, swallowing as he watched her walk purposefully in that direction. Damn, she had a fine ass. The thought of how it had felt to touch the firm smoothness…No, he needed to stop remembering what had happened.

  At least for now.

  Andrea blinked back stupid tears as she fumbled with her shoes. What the hell had just happened? She’d worked damn hard to get where she was, and fucking a potential client just to get a sale was low, even for her. She’d never really minded being referred to as a wolf in her pursuit of sales. But this…It could have meant professional suicide. It could have led to disastrous consequences. It could have been…the most ecstatic experience of her life.

  Eyes closed, she took a fortifying breath. Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been working your ass off and haven’t even had the time to consider recreational sex. You just need to make time for a hot sexual encounter. Something that doesn’t require batteries. Soon. She stiffened at the charged awareness when he touched her shoulder. Very soon. She opened her eyes, schooling her features against the emotions she saw in his boyish face. But not with him, damn it.

  “If you’re willing to take on a fixer, the owners might negotiate on price. What do you think about this place?” she asked, reaching for her briefcase. “Any interest in looking at the rest of the house?”

  Not unless there is a bed in one of the rooms for us to test drive. “Nope. I told you I want property on the Gulf, not inland—”

  “Technically, this is a beach house, with the lake right out—”

  His eyes narrowed as he interrupted. “It’s not the Gulf. And I have no interest in a fixer. Do you have anything else to show me?”

  “If I knew a price range, it could narrow our search.”

  “Show me a house I am interested in purchasing, then tell me the price,” he fired back, “and I’ll tell you if I’ll take it.”

  “Fine.” Stalking to the door, she opened it, motioning for him to exit. “As soon as I lock up, I’ll meet you at the car.”

  Effectively dismissed, he walked to the car. What had he seen in the fire-breathing she-dragon? He glanced back as she bent to replace the key in the lockbox, her red skirt caressing the firm cheeks of her smooth-skinned ass, an ass he’d been up close and personal with just a few minutes ago.

  Well, yeah, there was that.

  5

  The drive to the next property was made in silence while Connor averted his eyes from the expanse of leg exposed every time Andrea braked.

  Damn, the little car’s interior was hot.

  Andrea leaned across him, looking at the addresses, her full breast threatening to fall out of her low-cut top. And into his waiting hands. No. He had to stop thinking about stuff like that.

  “Here we are,” she announced, turning into a wide, circle drive of a stucco home with a red tile roof. “I’m sure this is more what you had in mind.”

  She put the car in park and stretched to reach behind her seat for her purse. The action caused her jacket to gape, giving him a perfect view of the dark edge of her nipple.

  Suddenly, what he had in mind had nothing to do with looking at houses.

  He heaved an inward sigh and pushed open his door. But they were here to look at potential vacation homes. Unfortunately.

  As they approached the door, Andrea rambled on about the landscaping and sprinkler system.

  Even the swipe of her key card in the realty lockbox was sexy.

  He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts to avoid reaching for her as she punched in the code for the alarm, just inside the beveled glass doors.

  The entry floor gleamed in the setting sun streaming through the windows. To the left was a massive dining room that connected to a kitchen that could surely be used for industrial purposes.

  The kitchen eating area wrapped around to a family room, its ceiling jutting up to the third floor.

  The sight of Andrea standing by the French doors leading to the patio had him instantly hard.

  “The backyard is adequate, with an infinity pool. Beyond it is a deep-water dock.” At his raised brow, she hurried on. “Technically, the house is on an inlet, but that inlet empties into the Gulf.” Her hand rested on the levered knob of the French door. “Would you like to take a look?”

  He shook his head. “The house is empty, right?”

  Slowly, she nodded, her hand gripping the door. “Yes, why? Is there a problem?”

  “No, I just thought we should probably take the tour before it gets too dark to see.” He glanced back at the kitchen. “Other than the recessed lights in here and the chandelier in the entry, I don’t see any other lights.” His gaze met hers. “Which way to the master?”

  She pointed to the left. With a slight bow, he let her know he’d follow.

  The sway of her hips as she walked ahead of him had him shoving his hand deeper into his pocket, pushing his zipper hard against his potentially embarrassing erection.

  The master bedroom was huge, with a soaring perimeter-lit tray ceiling. The pale lush carpeting pushed up along the edge of his sandals to caress the sides of his feet. He was sure it would be magnificent, as Andrea was saying, with furnishings, but all he could see was Andrea spread naked on a big bed in the middle of the room.

  “Connor?” Andrea’s voice jerked him back to reality. “Did you hear what I said about the master bath? Would you like to check it out?”

  “Um, sure.” He casually adjusted himself as he followed her through a double door.

  “The double-vessel sinks are custom, as is the granite vanity top. The cabinets are solid cherry. There’s a working sauna as well as a five-head shower with a steam feature. A separate water closet.” She gave a brief nod in the direction of a closed door, and he wondered if she was remembering the same sexy things he was remembering.

  She pointed to a recessed tub that could easily sit five or six people. “And, of course, a jetted tub.”

  “Of course.” He’d like nothing better than to strip his Realtor naked and check out the tub. Which was why they needed to get out of the room. Fast.

  When they finally had sex—and they would definitely have it—it was going to be on his terms and in a place where he could take all night to please her.

  And from the slight frown on her gorgeous face, it would probably take at least that long.

  Raking a hand through his hair, he turned and stalked from the bathroom. “It’s getting darker; we’d better go out and look at the pool and dock.”

  “There are patio and dock lights,” she said, but she doubted he heard her since he’d already disappeared around the corner.

  She glanced at the big, empty tub and pictured herself and Connor lounging, naked, in the churning bubbles, then shook her head. The property had been vacant quite a while. Selling it would be a definite coup. But would it be worth selling her body in the process?

  Eyeing Connor’s firm backside as he bent over the bubbling water of the spa on the patio, she leaned against the open patio door, enjoying the view.

  It might just be worth it, after all.

  With slow, deliberate steps, she walked up behind Connor.

  He turned with a grin. “The spa’s hot. Someone must have been here recently.”

  With a vague nod, she strolled to sit on a thick padded patio chair and crossed her legs, not bothering to tug her skirt back down when it crept up her thighs. The way Connor’s heated gaze zeroed in on her legs sent a jolt of feminine satisfaction through her, dampening her panties in the process.

  It was flattering. That was the only reason she felt flushed. No one had looked at her like that in a very long time. And to have a man that young and sexy take an obvious interest in her assets wa
s, well, a thrill. It didn’t necessarily mean she returned his interest.

  Yet, if it helped seal the deal…

  “Strip.” Her eyes widened at the word coming out of her mouth, but it was too late to take it back.

  Connor froze, then met her gaze. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” She flipped open the button on her jacket and leaned back against the table, pushing her breasts a little higher by arching her back. Uncrossing her legs, she hitched one knee over the arm of the wrought-iron chair, praying she wasn’t overexposing herself and playing the fool. “No one will see you.” Except me. “It’s really the only way to experience the feel of the pool and spa, by taking a dip au naturel.”

  He reached for the zipper on his shorts. “What about you?”

  Shifting on the rough, all-weather fabric of the cushion, she couldn’t resist running her fingers up the length of her exposed leg until she touched the dampness between her legs. “I believe I’ll just watch.”

  He shucked off his shirt and unzipped his shorts as he stepped out of his flip-flops. “You like to watch?” he asked in a husky voice.

  Her fingers stroked her aching folds, her heart pounding. She nodded.

  His shorts and boxers fell around his ankles.

  She made a slow visual journey up his toned legs, pausing at the sacks nesting easily by the most erect penis she’d ever remembered seeing. It seemed to pulse, its dark head shining in the lights of the pool.

  When she could find her voice, she murmured, “Maybe you should take a dip in the pool to cool off, Junior.”

  “Join me.”

  Slowly, she shook her head, trailing a fingertip beneath the crotch of her panties, the feel of her excitement stealing her breath.

  He stepped to the edge of the pool and looked back over his shoulder. “Okay. For now. But I like to watch, too.”

  He entered the water with barely a splash, slicing through it in sure, silent strokes.

  It shouldn’t have been so overwhelmingly sexy that it left her gasping for air, increasing the strokes along her slick folds.

  He flipped to his back. The sight pushed her over the edge, nearly drowning her in the all-consuming pleasure of her self-induced climax.

  His hands curved over the brick coping, then he hoisted up his lean, perfect body until he stood before her in all his sleek, naked perfection.

  A thrill shot through her when he turned, and she saw the swim had not cooled his lust. In fact, if anything, he looked even larger.

  “Now it’s your turn,” he said in a low, dangerously sexy voice. “Strip for me, pretty lady.”

  She wouldn’t consider it just because she was turned on. She wouldn’t consider it just because Connor was the first man to sexually arouse her in a very long time. She wouldn’t consider it just because she was almost desperate to make a sale.

  But the total of all those things made an irresistible combination.

  Slowly, she peeled off her jacket. The top and bra immediately followed.

  She leaned back, eyes locked with his, while she squeezed her nipple with one hand and continued petting her clitoris through her wet panties with the other.

  Connor made a sort of growling sound and took a step toward her, one hand extended.

  “Come any closer,” she warned, “and I’ll put my clothes back on.”

  He stopped and dropped his hand. “Then take off the rest. I want to…see all of you.”

  She tsked and shook her head. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Junior. I need to hear you say exactly what you want to see. And do.” She spread her legs a little farther, pushing the scrap of fabric aside to tease them both. “Say it.”

  “Strip. I want you naked. I…I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”

  “Is that all you want?” Her fingers flicked her swollen folds. She bit back a moan.

  “No. After you’re done, I want to taste your pussy. I want to lick up your juices and suck your clit until you scream and come again.”

  “And then what?” She eased her skirt over her hips and then shimmied out of her panties. Standing naked in her black stilettos, she kicked her clothing aside, then looked at him. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”

  “More than I want my next breath, darlin’.” He walked to her, pushing her back into the chair, then arranging her legs on either arm. He gently dragged his fingers along the suddenly renewed moisture on her folds, then stepped back, pulling another chair until it faced her.

  He sat down. “I like to watch, too.”

  Did she have the nerve to do it again? Then again, the idea excited her. Almost as much as the possibility of selling the house.

  Money. The thought made her wet. She imagined rolling around naked in millions of dollars. Her hand stroked faster. Just the smell of money made her feel like coming. Money was power to a lot of people, but for her it was more. It was an aphrodisiac.

  She peeked through heavy lids, her nipples tingling at the sight of Connor stroking his erect penis while he watched her masturbate. She licked her parched lips, wishing she could take a swipe of him. And she would. Soon.

  Her breath hitched. Moisture drenched her hand as waves of pleasure washed over her.

  When she could summon the strength to open her eyes, she watched Connor’s strokes and the truth hit her. It wasn’t pretty or even honorable. But it was the truth:

  She would most definitely fuck for money.

  6

  Connor’s legs wobbled, but he finally managed to navigate the steps into the hot, churning water of the spa. With a sigh, he sat on the slightly rough nonskid surface of the bench and waited for his heart rate to slow down before Andrea got into the water.

  He’d about exploded watching her get off by herself, her engorged folds glistening in the indirect lights of the pool. He slapped a weak hand on the cool decking until he felt the edge of his cargo shorts and dragged them closer. It was imperative the condoms be close at hand.

  Sure, he’d planned to finally get horizontal with Andrea back at his hotel, where there was a king-size bed and room service. But the spa proved too much of a temptation. It immediately became Plan B.

  Andrea was still sprawled on the chair, her head thrown back, hedonistically basking in the afterglow.

  He meant what he said earlier about wanting to taste her, suck her. But that would have to wait until he appeased the raging testosterone-crazed beast threatening to overtake him and make him the rutting animal his mother had always accused his father of being.

  Raising a weak hand, he motioned to her. “C’mere, darlin’. I need you.”

  One of Andrea’s eyes opened, and he held his breath, praying she wouldn’t say something to ruin what could turn out to be a beautiful experience.

  Instead, she stood and toed off her shoes before padding to the edge of the spa.

  Through the steam, he could see she was smooth all over. What was it Whitley had called it? Not a bikini wax. Brazilian, that was it. He ran an appreciative hand over the smooth, soft skin as she lowered into the water. Oh, yeah, he definitely approved.

  His hands shook so much it was difficult to roll the condom on, but he finally managed it.

  He pulled her to him, covering her mouth in the most carnal kiss he’d ever given or received.

  With their lips locked, he didn’t pause to savor the feel of her smooth skin rubbing against his as he lifted her to straddle his hips. All it took was one good, strong flex and he was where he wanted to be. A part of him longed to take it slow and easy, drawing out each sexually anguished moment. But another part, the part screaming for release, promised to take it slower next time as his arms locked around her rib cage to begin a wild ride.

  Warm water sloshed against his face and caressed his balls with each thrust. The roar in his ears drowned out the electric hum of the spa jets, the happy-sounding bubbles surrounding them.

  Andrea’s knees tightened against the sides of his chest. Her back arched. Had he not held her c
lose, she’d have arched head-first back into the churning water as a low moan of satisfaction erupted from her throat, the tendons stretched taut.

  His climax roared down on him, taking his breath while his heart threatened to rip from his chest.

  Crushing her to him, heartbeat to heartbeat, he struggled to draw air into his starving lungs. His muscles vibrated, but he knew if he released her, he wouldn’t have the strength to pull her up out of the water should she slide.

  Andrea collapsed onto Connor’s chest, her face buried in his neck while she greedily sucked in air along with the mouth-watering scent of the man she’d just seduced.

  Sure, it had been an unbelievably unprofessional thing to do, but the climax she’d just experienced made it worthwhile. As her heart rate ceased its furious galloping, she frowned, trying to remember if she’d ever had an orgasm anywhere near the last one.

  She hadn’t. She was sure she’d have remembered something like that.

  But now what? Did she simply slide off his still-impressive erection, get dressed, and continue the showing? Did she act as though they hadn’t just shared mind-blowing sex? What exactly was the protocol? She stifled a laugh when she thought she could probably ask her lying scumbag ex-husband how he’d handled these types of situations.

  She knew what she should probably do: turn Connor O’Brian over to one of her capable agents. But she also knew what she really wanted to do: slide right back into the spa and beg for more, which was totally ridiculous.

  Andrea Redd never begged for anything. Or anyone.

  Her back stiffened. “What was that? Did you hear something?”

  Connor paused mid-nuzzling of her neck. “I’m not sure.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. The chiming doorbell echoed in the empty house, its sound drifting out through the open patio doors.

  “Oh, no!” Andrea scrambled off Connor’s lap, all but leaping from the spa and skidding across the wet decking to grab her clothes.