And that cock of his. It was thick and gorgeous, perfectly formed. Just the sight of it literally took her breath away.
She had the perverse urge to pause their make-out session so she could call Willow and Clare to crow over her good fortune. Which would probably go over very well. “Excuse me, Adam, mind if I just make a quick phone call? Be right back. Don’t move a muscle.”
God, his muscles. She ran her hands over his chest just to feel those hard pecs, his hot, smooth skin that stretched tautly over them. She moaned, a small, deep sound in the back in her throat. She couldn’t help it; the sound came out of her of its own accord, elicited by the depth of her attraction to him.
His palms were on her thighs, sliding up under the hem of her dress as he kissed her languidly. How, she thought feverishly, could he stand to be languid at a time like this? As their lips and tongues tangled together, she felt as if she were about to die, or explode, or scream—something loud and chaotic and out of control—if she couldn’t have, touch, taste, feel, envelop every single atom of him, right this second.
“I want to see you,” he murmured against her mouth. “I want to see your skin. I want to see you bare.”
She wanted to rip her dress off, her bra and panties, and be laid bare to him...but there was still some light in the room, and she wasn’t sure she was ready yet to be that vulnerable to him. “I...” she started, but stopped.
“What’s wrong?” He pulled away slightly and looked into her eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”
She shook her head, her heart banging in her throat. Then she pulled away from him. “Hang on.”
She moved off the bed to switch off the lamp near the door, and then went to the window to draw the heavy curtains closed. Where the room had been dim before with the falling light of evening, now it was nearly dark.
She stood there a moment, shocked at how liquidy her legs felt, as if they could barely support her. She could just make Adam out, as her eyes adjusted to the near-darkness. He was lying on his side now, propped on an elbow, watching her. The little light left in the room sculpted the planes of his shoulders and cheekbones, and left his face cast in shadow.
Her breathing was shallow as she reached behind her and unzipped her dress, and then slowly shrugged out of it to let it fall at her feet.
Now she stood in just her bra and panties, thanking the Universe that she’d put on nice ones. But she wasn’t sure whether she should slip out of them as well, or wait for Adam to come to her and do it himself, or—
He solved that dilemma for her by rearing up and reaching for her with a growl. He pulled her down onto him and pressed his face between her breasts. He took in a huge breath before letting his head fall back. His expression was nearly comical in its pure ecstasy. “God, you’re gorgeous. Your body is so lush. So full.”
“Full?” She tried to push away. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been described as full.”
“Oh, no you don’t.” He flipped her over onto her back and looked down into her eyes. “Your curves—they’re perfect. Your breasts are—oh, God. They are amazing. The first time I saw you, in that massage room back in Austin, I just wanted to reach out and— Well, let’s just say, you’re every man’s fantasy.”
Great. He was in it for her tits. And he was also a liar. “I am not. That’s ridiculous.”
“Nope. It’s true. You’re my fantasy, anyway.” He slid a palm up her side, over her ribcage, and brought it to rest for a moment just below her breast. Then he cupped her and squeezed lightly, and her eyes fluttered shut. Suddenly, she felt full, just as he’d described her—full of him, and of the power of her own body.
But could she trust that power? Could she trust him to handle it?
“You’re in control here, Lisa,” he whispered. His thumb grazed her nipple through the lace of her bra, but he didn’t move to dip beneath the fabric. “You’re running the show.”
He was trying to let her know they could go wherever she wanted, and stop anytime she was ready. She knew that, and she appreciated it.
But she didn’t want him to stop. She wasn’t sure yet how far she wanted this to go—this moment, or the entire relationship—but she did know she didn’t want him to stop now.
In answer, she arched her back enough to reach back and unsnap her bra one-handed.
He grinned. “Wow. Hidden talents abound.” He peeled the garment off her, slipping the straps down over her shoulders, letting the cups slide off her breasts until just the very tips of her nipples were still covered.
She was covered in goose bumps, tiny constellations of nerves and anticipation on her skin, and her breaths were coming in short and hard. She wanted him to touch her—to take her into his mouth and suck her into that sharp, sweet oblivion. “Touch me, Adam, please touch me,” she murmured, trying not to worry about the fact that she’d just begged, and would probably do it again soon.
He grunted, a low, husky sound almost like laughter, and then latched onto her with his mouth.
Good Lord, the man knew how to suckle a woman. Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as he pleasured her, one breast and then the other and then, Ohh yes please and thank you so very much, back again. She felt wildly, crazily on the edge, as if he was going to bring her to climax just by loving her nipples.
Was that possible? It had never happened to her before, but she felt unbelievably sensitized. And then she became aware of her hips grinding rhythmically against him. Apparently her body was as attuned to the dance as her mind lost itself in blissful pleasure.
“Sweetheart,” Adam rasped, “if we don’t slow down, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” she urged him, and then she felt his fingers slide beneath the hem of her panties into the heavy, thick wetness below, and her whole body shivered in gratitude. And then he slid his fingers inside her and rubbed a spot deep within, and she felt like—like—well, it was just indescribable—and he rubbed some more, his palm rubbing against her sensitive clit, and then suddenly she came, shuddering, right in his hand.
She lay, twisted and broken, convulsing from the power of the orgasm, for seconds or minutes, there was no way to tell. As she gradually floated back down and put the pieces of herself back together, she realized he was holding her, and staring down into her face with a slight smile.
“That was so beautiful,” he murmured, and pressed a kiss to her full, swollen lips.
“Well, I sure liked it,” she managed. She lifted a hand, which felt attached to a boneless arm, to press it to her forehead. “God, I can’t believe how fast... It usually takes me a whole lot longer than that. What did you do in there? You’re...”
She couldn’t finish, wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say. Some instinct deep within her was telling her to be embarrassed, but all she could feel was relief, and a funny sort of pride. She’d just come, shudderingly and completely, in about ten seconds flat, in an orgasm that had made her forget her own name. If she were on the computer and unconcerned about social niceties, she’d post it as a Facebook status.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Adam said, with laughter in his voice.
“I haven’t—I haven’t done this kind of thing in a while.” As soon as she said it, she winced. Why had she told him that? It had just come out.
“I haven’t either,” he said. This time he didn’t sound as if he was smiling. She opened her eyes a crack and saw that he was regarding her soberly, and she felt a quake deep in her stomach. Something significant had just happened. They hadn’t just engaged in some fun, fleeting, casual sex. It had meant more than that for both of them. Somehow, she felt sure of that.
And she wasn’t sure if that knowledge made her feel good, or scared out of her wits.
“But you didn’t, I mean, you didn’t get to—” She glanced downward, in the direction of his groin.
“That’s okay.” He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “More than okay. That was amazing for me. I got to wa
tch you. That’s all I need.”
She felt heat rush up her cheeks as she came back into her body more fully, simultaneously becoming more aware of the hardness of his erection pressing bluntly between her legs.
She pulled away from him and rolled to sit on the edge of the bed. Honesty, remember? she thought, and took a deep breath. “This is so strange.”
“What is?”
“Being here. With you.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “Naked.”
He grinned. “You’ve still got one layer on. And I guess it’s a little strange, but it’s kind of fantastic too, right?”
She managed to smile back. “Honestly, I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it yet.”
“Well,” he said, and she felt him run a hand down her back in a quick, soothing stroke. “How about you decide later? No reason to rush anything, right?”
“Hmm,” she hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She was too drowsy to do either, already slipping into sleep.
He moved off the bed, and she reached behind her to pull the covers around her.
“I should let you get some sleep,” he said.
She nodded, grateful they didn’t have to have an awkward should-we-sleep-in-the-same-bed-or-not conversation. At the same time, she felt a little bit disappointed that he apparently didn’t want to stay. She wouldn’t have been opposed to some cuddling, at least for a little while.
He grabbed his underwear off the floor and put them on, and she felt another pang of disappointment as those beautiful hips and butt of his disappeared under jersey knit.
Then he moved back to the bed, lifted the covers and joined her.
“What...”
“Scoot over,” he murmured. “Make space, woman.”
She did, and then complied when he shifted her gently onto her stomach. Then his hands began moving over her back in slow, soothing strokes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll bet you don’t get a massage very often,” he said as he kneaded her shoulders. “I know I’m no professional, but at least I can try to make you feel good. You can give me pointers, if you want.”
He was giving her a massage. No one had given her a massage, paid or spontaneous, in so long she couldn’t even remember. And here was Adam, doing it just to please her, after he’d already pleasured her so thoroughly and selflessly. Her heart bumped in her throat. She was utterly touched.
“You’re doing great,” she managed, as his hands moved to her lower back, his fingers pressing experimentally.
When she let out a moan as he kneaded into the muscles along her spine, his fingers stilled. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, that feels amazing.” Don’t stop, please, don’t stop. As long as he never took his hands off her, she would be okay.
“Oh. Okay. Good.” His fingers started moving again, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure of his touch.
A bleeping sound permeated her foggy thoughts.
“Damn,” Adam said. “That’s my phone. Sorry. Hold on just a minute.” He moved off the bed, and she heard him fumbling around with something, heard the jingle of what must be his keys in the pocket of his pants that he’d shed onto the floor. “Here it is,” he muttered, and then, after a beat, “Hello?”
Lisa kept her eyes closed as Adam moved into the suite’s living room. She didn’t want to listen in on his conversation. She just wanted to fall asleep.
“Hey, Dan.” There was a pause. “Yeah, Lisa and I just...we, uh, just got back from dinner a little while ago. What’s up?”
She snorted in her half-sleep state. Just got back from dinner—that was about the most boring euphemism for ground-shaking, earth-moving sex she’d ever heard.
“Again?” Adam was saying. “Wait, you mean new ones? Today?” As he spoke, his voice grew louder and then quieter again, as if he were pacing nearer to the bedroom and then farther away again. After another pause, Lisa could almost hear his business partner’s voice on the other end of the line. The man sounded angry, or agitated.
Or maybe she was imagining it. And she definitely shouldn’t be listening in. She fought her deliciously sleepy state to reach up, grab a pillow and stuff it over her head, to muffle the sound of Adam’s voice.
It seemed like only a moment later, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.
She cracked an eye open to peer out from beneath the pillow.
Adam was standing there, by the bedside, leaning down to look at her with a concerned expression.
Suddenly, Lisa’s stomach felt funny. A sense of foreboding tickled up her spine. She pushed the pillow off her head and shoved up onto one elbow. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk,” Adam said apologetically. “That was Dan. I guess we have a little problem.”
Chapter 23
____________________________________
It was strange, Lisa thought the next morning, how quickly she’d gone from blissfully happy to distinctly...not.
She took a sip of the strong coffee Adam had ordered up from room service, and poked at the fresh fruit still sitting on her breakfast plate. Strawberries, cantaloupe, pineapple. All her favorites, yet she didn’t feel like eating any of it. All she could think about were those images Adam had shown her last night, and the headline—MISTER MATCH SCANDAL—THE MISSUS STEPS OUT!
The very thought of the article he’d shown her—the article Dan had called about, the “little problem” they needed to deal with—made her queasy. “Fiancée caught cheating,” the odious thing had blared, supported by photographs of Lisa from last week, on her breakfast date with Reese.
At least Reese’s face had been blurred out. His privacy was protected, and he would be spared the embarrassment Lisa was currently enduring.
This morning, there had been even more photos posted to the same celebrity gossip site. MISTER MATCH STANDS BY HIS WOMAN, had been the latest headline, attached to photos of Lisa, Adam and Rodney from just last night, during their showdown in the Water Lily lobby.
Rodney’s face had been blurred out as well, though Lisa didn’t feel nearly so grateful about that preservation of privacy.
The article had gone so far as to call Adam a cuckold. Lisa winced and dropped her head into her palms. How did things move that fast in the world of celebrity gossip and paparazzi photography? Some of those pictures, posted this morning, had been from barely twelve hours earlier.
The whole thing filled her with impotent anger. Her initial reaction to the photographs had been to blink and stare and blink again, in an effort to make sure her eyes were working correctly. Quickly, the terrible, futile rage had settled into the pit of her stomach.
The paparazzi and the gossip bloggers were ruining her reputation. Not that she’d ever even had one—you kind of had to be known to have a reputation, and she’d been a nobody, completely, wonderfully anonymous, until this whole mess had started.
Now, people who had never met her before were saying awful things about her, and it made her feel sick to her stomach. The only perk, the only good thing about the whole thing, was getting to be with Adam, who knew the truth.
She heard the door to the suite beep and then click as the latch opened. She sat up straighter and did her best to put on a bright face.
“Good morning,” Adam said as he entered, giving her an intimate little smile. “How are you feeling?”
Lisa considered for a moment, and then shrugged. “Like the whole world thinks I’m a cheat,” she admitted. More than anything, she felt embarrassed. Adam hadn’t said a word about her going on a date with another man. How could he, really? It wasn’t as if he had any claim on Lisa. Their relationship was all for show. Except last night had changed things between them, at least in Lisa’s mind.
And she had no idea whether he felt the same. And even though the date with Reese had happened days ago, before she’d ever signed Adam’s non-disclosure form and hiring contract, and even though it had been a non-starter from the very beginning, she couldn’t h
elp but feel as if she’d somehow betrayed Adam by going out with him.
Adam’s expression was sober now. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I never meant for you to be in this position.” He joined her at the table and gave her a quick kiss on the temple before pouring himself some coffee.
Great. The man was apologizing to her. Now she felt even more miserable.
“At least things are all set for the Dream Date today,” he went on, after taking a long gulp from his mug. “So that’s one good thing, at least.”
“That’s good,” Lisa agreed automatically. “Look, surely there’s something we can do, some kind of damage control—”
Adam was already shaking his head. “Nope. No need.”
“No need? Everyone only just found out we’re engaged—fake-engaged—whatever, and now all of a sudden I’m cheating on you. I think we’d better do something to set the record straight.”
“Set it straight?” Adam raised his eyebrows. “Which part? The part about our fake-engagement, or the part about how you’re not actually cheating on me because we aren’t actually together, and you can date anyone you want?”
Another hot, sick little burst of embarrassment curdled through her. She scowled. “I see your point. I just hate thinking I caused you to look bad by meeting up with that guy, and not even realizing we were being photographed.” She shook her head and stabbed at a strawberry with her fork. “I didn’t even like him. I mean, it wasn’t even worth it!”
Adam laughed. “Do you mind if—” He paused and cleared his throat. “Can I ask who he is?”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “He’s just some guy I met through your site. Willow and Clare kind of made me go out with him. They chose him. It wasn’t even my idea.”
“Wait, you’re on Mister-Match?” Adam blinked, and then squinted. “And your friends are choosing dates for you?”
It was no wonder he looked confused. It sounded kind of ridiculous.
Mister Match (The Match Series Book 1) Page 20
