Between the Sheets

by P. J. Mellor

  She hoped.

  “IOI. Called after I got home last night. The driver will be here by nine.” Lisa rubbed her forehead again. “If you don’t need anything else, is it okay if I go home after you leave? I can switch the calls to my place.”

  “Hmm? Oh, sure. I just have the one client. Depending on how the showing goes, I may or may not make it back into the office today.” Andrea stood and smoothed her black pencil skirt. She reached for the matching jacket, hanging on the visitor’s chair. “If you don’t want to be disturbed, just roll the phone over to the service and take the day off.”

  “OMG! You’re not making a BFD about me leaving. You’re planning something.” Her eyes narrowed. “Spill.”

  “Words, Lisa, use words, please.” Andrea paused by the brushed stainless framed mirror and checked her lip gloss. “And the only thing I’m planning is showing Mr. O’Brian some beach property in the hopes of finally getting him to commit to one.”

  She walked into the bathroom adjoining her office, discreetly closing the door.

  “Maybe he’ll commit to something else, something more, ah, personal!” Lisa’s voice carried through the door.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Andrea paused, then stepped out of her thong and stuffed it in her purse.

  It had nothing to do with emotions. It had nothing to do with sex, even. She was determined to make a sale.

  She had no intentions of having sex again in an attempt to sell a house. But she wasn’t adverse to a little sexual teasing to get Connor’s attention.

  Hell, maybe if he thought they’d do it again, he’d be speedier about making a decision on a beach house.

  And once he’d signed on the dotted line…Well, she wasn’t adverse to letting nature take its course.

  Assuming his funding was in order, of course.

  10

  Connor shifted from one sandaled foot to the other, squinting in the sunshine while he waited. Andrea Redd’s assistant had called earlier to tell him a Redd Hot Property limousine would be picking him up for today’s excursion. He wondered if Andrea would be in the limo or if she’d chicken out and turn him over to another Realtor.

  He also wondered how he’d feel about that.

  The sleek limo, its navy paint sparkling in the morning sun, glided to the curb. REDD HOT PROPERTIES INC. was discreetly lettered in silver paint on the door.

  Connor bit back a grin when a man no older than twenty hopped from the driver’s side and scurried around to open the rear passenger door. The driver wore a purple and green tropical-print shirt, baggy cargo shorts not dissimilar to Connor’s own, and purple rubber flip-flops.

  “Good morning, Mr. O’Brian?”

  Connor nodded as he sauntered to the curb.

  “I’m Cody. I’ll be your driver today. Ms. Redd is already in the car.”

  “Great.” He returned Cody’s smile. “Let’s rock and roll, Cody.”

  The cool interior and the smell of Andrea’s perfume wrapped around him the second he stepped into the car. Although only twinkling lights lit the perimeter of the seating area, he saw her immediately.

  And, even though he’d sworn today’s outing would be strictly business, he wanted her.

  Not good.

  He slid onto a side seat, ignoring the long bench at the back where there would be plenty of room to sit next to his Realtor. Plenty of room to stretch out on the long, black leather seat. Plenty of room to do any one of the myriad sexy things popping into his fevered brain.

  She motioned with the fluted glass in her long-fingered hand. “There’s a carafe of mimosas in the bar. Pour yourself a drink. I thought we’d go over our itinerary for today, along the way to our first showing.” She was quiet while he poured his drink, then patted the seat next to her. “Come here, Junior. It will be easier for you to see the pictures.”

  “No, thanks, I want to be surprised.” He gave a tight smile and leaned back, his arm along the back of the plush seat in an effort to look relaxed.

  Her eyes widened along with her smile. “Fine with me. It gives me more room to stretch out.” She kicked off one high-heeled shoe and turned, propping her bare foot on the seat, her skirt riding up her slender leg.

  Connor held his glass in a death grip. He knew he should avert his eyes, but they seemed to have a will of their own. And they insisted on feasting on the erotic sight before them.

  Andrea gave a knowing smile and leaned back a little more, the action causing the smooth lips between her legs to part ever so slightly, beckoning him.

  Connor gulped back the rest of his drink and sloshed some on his hand in his haste to pour another.

  His gaze darted back to the luscious skin beneath Andrea’s skirt. Swallowing, he grabbed a piece of ice from the bin in the bar and ran it along his forehead.

  Good Lord, he was a dead man.

  “It’s okay,” she said in a soft voice.

  His gaze flew to hers.

  She pointed downward, then stroked the spot he’d been desperately trying to ignore.

  “It’s okay to look.” She canted her hips for his viewing pleasure. “Or touch.” She dipped her index finger into her mimosa, then dragged it along the plump lips begging for his attention. “Or even taste,” she finished on a whisper.

  Tempting. To say her offer tempted him was a gross understatement.

  The question was, did he have the strength or willpower to resist what she was offering? Did he even want to resist?

  “I know you’re interested.” He followed her gaze to the pup tent in the front of his shorts. “I know you enjoyed what happened yesterday just as much as I did.” She spread her legs as much as her skirt would allow, unapologetically stroking her moist core. “C’mon, let’s play a little before we get down to business.”

  His Realtor disappeared. In her place sat a siren, offering him solace. Offering him sex. Her musky scent filled his nostrils, intoxicating him more than his recently ingested drink.

  His mouth watered.

  He slid from the seat to his knees on the carpeted floor, then slowly made his way to the back of the limo.

  Andrea swallowed, holding still when all she wanted to do was squirm to ease the ache between her legs. An ache, miraculously, only Connor O’Brian seemed able to appease. Finally—finally!—he was close. Close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her engorged labia.

  It made her impossibly wetter.

  She wanted to tell him to take her, suck her, do whatever he wanted to do to her as long as he did something besides look at her.

  But a part of her resisted, wanted to prolong the sexual stimulus of being so close to getting satisfaction. Just the thought of what might happen had her poised on the brink of an orgasm.

  Beneath her silk tank, her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples drawn into hard, stiff peaks of anticipation. She wanted to flick open her jacket to show him she was braless. To show him how her body reacted to his nearness.

  But she didn’t want to appear too eager, too needy. Power was the name of every game, and sex was the ultimate power game.

  It was imperative she remain the one in control.

  She dipped a shaking finger into her mimosa and again painted her swollen labia. “Taste me,” she demanded, even though her voice cracked a little.

  His green eyes met hers a moment before dropping to look beneath her skirt.

  The air in the back of the limo seemed stifling. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. A quick glance confirmed they were still hidden by the privacy screen. As discreetly as possible, she slowly reached until she could flip the lock, preventing Cody from interrupting them.

  She bit back a groan at the feel of Connor’s hot hands easing up her legs, pushing her skirt higher and higher until it bunched around her waist.

  He skimmed his hands up and down her inner thighs once, twice, three times.

  She clamped her mouth shut to prevent herself from demanding he give her some much-needed satisfaction.

  Just when she th
ought she might scream her frustration, he nipped her clitoris with his teeth.

  Her breath hitched.

  He closed his lips over the nub, sucking it deeply into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue swirling in maddening circles.

  Her hips arched off the seat. She dug in her heels, clutching his head close, gritting her teeth and clenching her eyes shut in her effort to breathe and stave off the impending climax rushing toward her.

  She might have succeeded had he not chosen that moment to slip one hand under her top, squeezing the hardened tip of her nipple at the same time his other hand slipped a finger into her.

  What was a girl to do, faced with such a delicious onslaught of sensations?

  Arching off the seat, anchored only by his hands, a guttural sound filled the back of the limo—it took a second to realize it had come from her. Nipples at attention and puckered in painful points, her uterus contracted violently, sending wave after wave of pleasure washing through her.

  When her heart resumed beating, she opened her eyes. Connor was still on his knees, his hand still between her legs, his fingers still deeply embedded. Eyes bright, he moved his thumb, brushing her swollen, still-aching nub with the pad while staring into her eyes.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. His hand beneath her tank top resumed its petting of her breasts, his other hand still busy.

  Thank you, she wanted to say, but her throat still refused to obey her commands for speech.

  She tried to back away from the mesmerizing stroking of his hands but found her muscles too weak at the moment.

  “Ms. Redd?” Cody’s voice echoed through the car from the speaker.

  She had to clear her throat twice but finally managed to answer. “Yes?”

  “The first property is up ahead on the right.”

  “Thanks, Cody.” She shoved her skirt down reasonably in place and then looked at Connor, who had taken a hand towel from the bar and was mopping up the evidence of her orgasm.

  Cheeks flaming, she silently cursed her stupid decision to go pantyless. Whatever had she been thinking?

  Connor reclaimed his seat perpendicular from hers as he made a quick adjustment.

  By the time Cody rolled to a stop and threw open their door, all was in order.

  “I’ll buzz you when we’re ready to be picked up,” she told her driver as he helped her from the car.

  “I can wait, ma’am, since I’m yours for the day.”

  “That’s not necessary. Really.” Her spine stiffened. Was that a smothered laugh she heard from Connor? She leaned closer to the chauffeur and lowered her voice. “Some clients have a problem relaxing and telling me what they really think of a property when there is someone waiting.”

  “Ah.” Cody nodded and stepped back. “I understand. I’ll just go get a coffee and wait for your call. ’Bye.”

  Connor stared up the steep circular drive at the red-tiled stucco monstrosity. “This house may be more than I need.”

  With a sigh, Andrea put her fists on her hips and glared at him. “How do you know? You haven’t even seen the interior yet.”

  “True.” He held out his arm. “Let’s go check it out.”

  “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she mumbled as they made their way up the drive.

  “I know. Now tell me about this house.”

  “It’s new, recently constructed, Energy Star rated. The floors are pretty much bare still. The builder is waiting for the buyer to pick out the materials.” Bending to swipe her card in the reader, she waited for the key fob to dispense, then opened the beveled glass front door. “Any fixture or appliances you don’t like can be switched out.”

  “I understand all that, but I’d kind of hoped to at least see a furnished model.” At her quick glance, he said, “You know, to get an idea of how furniture will fit in here.” He shrugged. “I’m sort of a visual, hands-on kind of guy.”

  The massive dusty cement entry opened up to a great room and an open-concept kitchen.

  “No formal dining room?” He flipped the lever to turn on a stream of water in the kitchen sink. “Plumbing works.”

  In answer, she sighed and walked to a door at the end of the kitchen, opening it as she spoke. “There is a very nice walk-in pantry.”

  “But no formal living or dining room.”

  The pantry door slammed shut. “No! There is no formal anything. This is a beach house, Junior. What you professed to want, remember? Beach house denotes casual living.”

  He watched her chew on her lower lip. “What’s really the problem, Miz Redd? I’d think maybe you didn’t get enough sleep and it made you cranky, but you probably slept as much as me.” He advanced, backing her against the snack bar. “You know what I think?”

  Instead of answering, she glared some more and slowly shook her head.

  “I think,” he said, pinning her with his eager body, “you’re afraid to be alone with me in this big ole house. Afraid you might not be able to control yourself and will rip my clothes off and have your wicked way with me again.”

  Her mouth fell open, but she recovered fast. “Is that the way you remember it? At the very least,” she continued when he nodded, “it was a mutual thing. Something, by the way, I’ve never done.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Never? Huh. I didn’t think you were a virgin yesterday.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” She slapped at his hand, which was toying with her nipple, making it harden through her shirt. “I meant I had never, um, done something like that with a client.” Her cool blue gaze met his. “It was inappropriate.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He trailed kisses down the sweet-smelling side of her neck, bumping his erection against her hips.

  “Unprofessional,” she whispered, arching her neck, her hands stroking his back beneath his shirt. “Unethical.”

  His mouth covered hers. Hearing how wrong it was to do what they’d done or what he planned to do again was not on his agenda.

  Breaking the kiss, he lifted her to sit on the edge of the dusty granite counter and stepped between her legs. “Let’s do it again,” he said as he swooped back in for another taste of her tempting, lying mouth.

  A little whimper escaped her as she pulled him tighter to her, the pointy heels of her shoes gouging his backside.

  He reacted like a stallion that was being spurred into action. Sheathing himself at the speed of lust, he pulled her closer to the edge, flexed his hips, and impaled her.

  They both groaned.

  11

  Andrea bit Connor’s earlobe and tightened her grip as his lean hips slammed against hers, his penis buried deep within her aching body.

  They could get caught. She didn’t care.

  She could lose her license. She didn’t care.

  She could lose the sale. Damned if she’d let that happen. She didn’t care if she had to screw the guy 24-7, he would buy a damn house from her. Even if it meant she had to wear him down to do it.

  Taking off her panties before picking Connor up had been an impulse. She’d had no intention of a replay of the day before. Well, okay, maybe some small part of her had hoped for it. She was only human. Sex of any kind was a distant memory. Sex like she’d experienced with Connor fell into a whole other category from anything she’d done before. She’d be a fool not to want it again. And again. For as long as it lasted. Hell, he was going to be in town for only a few days, a week at the most. If she were a man having sex with a willing female client, people would look the other way. People had, when she and Rich were married.

  The way she saw it, if she was an equal in business, why not also in pleasure?

  True, Connor was not only a client, but he was also significantly younger. It’s not as though she thought it was love or even a lasting, potential long-term affair. She saw it for what it was: mutual gratification. A means to an end. Nothing more.

  The last thought fled in the face of her climax rushing toward her, drowning her in such bliss, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find herself
floating above the granite countertop had she not been anchored by Connor’s strong arms.

  “Wait,” she said on a breath. “More.” She leaned back on her hands, not caring about the dusty surface, offering her now-bared breasts.

  He sucked voraciously, continuing until she grew wet and slippery where they were still joined.

  “More,” she whispered again. “There’s more house to, ah, see.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the counter, still embedded deep within her aching body. “Which way?”

  Any way you want, big guy, she thought, then realized he was asking for directions for their house tour. Gyrating against his sweat-slicked skin, she pointed in the general direction of the master suite.

  One second, lovely fantasies were flitting through her mind of exactly how she was going to show him the features of the house. The next second, he stumbled. They landed with a lung-squeezing thud on the paper-covered hardwood floor of the great room.

  “Crap! I’m such a clod!” Connor’s voice wheezed in her ear. His teeth nipped the tendon along her neck, making her wetter. “Are you okay?”

  All she could do was nod, thrilled to realize not only was it true, but also miraculously they were still joined. She gave an experimental gyration of her hips.

  Connor groaned and flexed, driving deeper.

  “What happened?” Not that she really cared, not when he was plunging in and out of her with such slow, deliberate and delicious movements. She loved the firm heat alternately filling and pulling out of her, the feel of his skin rubbing against hers….

  Her body relaxed for the first time in a long time while she allowed her hips to rise and fall in cadence with his, her breathing synchronized with each breath that ruffled the hair by her ear.

  Adrift in sexual satiation, she was surprised when the first ripples of another climax began to tickle deep within.