Wicked Heat

by Nicola Marsh

  He nodded. “Born and bred Bondi boy.”

  “You surf?”

  “Absolutely.” He made a hang-ten sign with his thumb and pinkie extended, the rest of his fingers curled into his palm. “Best way to blow off steam.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Besides sex—” His hand flew to his mouth. “Silly me. Not supposed to use the S-word, right?”

  “Right.” Though a small part of her kinda liked how he had one thing on the brain. Matched her thoughts at the moment. “Tell me more about your work.”

  Once again, the spark dimmed in his eyes. “I went into business with my best mate from school. Took Sydney by storm. Built a stellar reputation. Business boomed.”

  He still hadn’t told her what he did for work, had danced around her question, and for someone who had been surprisingly straight shooting since they met, it intrigued her.

  “And?”

  “And I’m sick of talking about my boring job.” He folded his arms and fixed her with a probing stare. “Tell me this. Why were you about to marry a guy you’re obviously not heartbroken over losing?”

  Allegra hated discussing her private life with anyone, but she’d put Jett on the spot about his business; the least she could do was give him a trite answer or two.

  “Flint was an old family friend. We had an easygoing relationship.” She shrugged. “Marriage seemed like a natural step.”

  His eyebrows shot heavenward. “Sounds like you’re discussing folding laundry.”

  Sadly, “boring” summed up her engagement to Flint, not that she’d tell Jett.

  “Was he a dud root?”

  Confused, her nose crinkled. “What’s Flint got to do with trees?”

  He laughed out loud. “Root is Aussie speak for the S-word. Dud means bad.”

  She tried to muster sufficient indignation. “Flint wasn’t bad in bed.”

  “Not too good, either, by that bored expression on your face.” He screwed up his face in imitation and she bit back a grin. “Explains a lot.”

  “What does?”

  He hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. That’d be a first.

  “Women who’ve been dumped before the big day don’t act like you are.” He tilted his head to one side, studying her. “They’re not cool and calm and ready for a rebound fling.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Sure you are, Rebound Girl.”

  She wanted to tell him to shut the hell up, but she wasn’t angry at Jett. Not really. Not when he’d articulated the truth.

  She should’ve been more upset when Flint called off the wedding, and the fact that she wasn’t merely reinforced what she’d known all along. That she was incapable of love.

  Simply, she’d never learned how. Certainly not from her parents, who couldn’t wait to shunt her off to boarding school while continuing the social dervish that was their life in Beverly Hills. And not from her brief relationships that never lasted.

  Thirty years old and she’d never been in love. Allegra didn’t know whether to laugh or wallow in self-pity.

  Love didn’t fit into her life plans. Love made people do crazy things, like get overly emotional and lose control. Two things she never did and had no intention of ever doing.

  “Rebound Girl? Seriously?”

  “That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He nudged her with his elbow. “Only interested in me for one thing.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Go on, admit it. You only want to use me for S-E-X.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “No saying the S-word, remember?”

  “Spelling it doesn’t count.”

  “You always have an answer for everything, huh?”

  Some of his amusement faded as he looked away. “Not always.”

  Allegra didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when the flight attendant appeared to clear their supper. Beneath Jett’s easygoing facade lay a guy with depth, a guy she enjoyed talking to as much as sparring with.

  His insightful assessment of her engagement impressed. Not many guys would read between the lines and pick up what she hadn’t said.

  As for his rebound comment? Maybe she was on the rebound. Not from a broken heart, but from a lifetime of playing it safe and keeping up appearances.

  Rebound Girl. Kinda had a nice ring to it. If only she had the guts to do something about the rebound part. Back in LA, having a fling to erase her rather dull engagement would’ve been the last thing on her mind. But here, on a jet thirty thousand feet in the air, in a cozy first-class compartment with a hot, bronzed Aussie who elicited raunchy thoughts every time he opened his mouth, quickie sex to clear the slate didn’t seem so ludicrous.

  Especially considering the stress she’d be under when the plane landed and she had to score an appointment to present to Kai Kaluna. She’d come up with a foolproof pitch pronto last night. Rather than wallowing over her broken engagement, she’d been up all night brainstorming and collating, determined to win the pitch of a lifetime.

  Maybe a little stress relief on the plane would be good for her? Clear her mind so she touched down focused and determined.

  Yeah, like she needed any further justification.

  He touched her arm. “We need to vacate our seats while they do a turndown service.”

  Crap, she was in so much trouble. If she could barely resist Jett at his teasing, sexy best with the lights turned on, how would she resist him in their private cabin, in bed, in the dark?

  …

  Allegra’s parents always insisted on the best, so she’d flown in a fair share of business-class compartments around the world. But she’d never had a shower on board a plane before, and as she stepped from the first-class private bathroom, refreshed and comfortable in a PJ combo of cotton shorts and T-shirt, she wondered how she’d ever go back to business class again.

  Thankfully, Zoe had had the foresight to pack sensible changes of clothes along with the frippery. No way could Allegra have slept alongside Jett wearing a sheer lace teddy. Even in her pale-pink cotton printed with tiny ice cream cones, she felt underdressed. And decidedly at risk of removing the few items of clothing she wore should Jett charm her into it.

  As if his deep, gravelly voice wasn’t enough, he had the just-out-of-bed tousled hair, the ripped bod, and those penetrating green eyes that made a girl like her wish she could wear the frivolous nonsense Zoe had packed and be confident enough to pull it off.

  She’d examined some of the items in the bathroom, and had been tempted by a designer white satin teddy with matching panties… Before stuffing them back in her hand luggage with an exaggerated huff.

  All that sexy stuff wasn’t her. She’d tried spicing up her sex life with lingerie but Flint had seemed oblivious. They’d almost been rote in the bedroom and she’d often wondered if there was more she could do. A stupid thought that undermined her confidence, but her thoughts kept drifting to how lackluster they’d been in bed in comparison with how Jett made her feel within a few hours.

  She’d heard the stories at work, women who went to bars with the sole intent of hooking up with a guy for the night. Women who dated a guy once or twice, slept with him, then moved on to the next. She’d never understood it, never understood the mentality of women on the prowl.

  Until she’d met Jett.

  He exuded a raw sexuality so potent she could forget she wasn’t “that kind of girl” and happily clamber on top of him and ride him all the way to Palm Bay to become that kind of girl.

  Thirty years old and she’d never had a one-night stand. Maybe it was time to rectify that?

  Dragging in several deep breaths, she grabbed her toiletries and headed back to their cabin.

  She could do this. Could sleep next to a devastatingly sexy guy who turned her on with one glance and not jump him.

  Yep, definitely doable.

  Until she slid open the door.

  What the…

  It wasn’t the fact that their beds had been converted into a queen-size bed and covere
d with fine linen that shocked her, as much as the rose petals scattered across the sheets and an ice bucket with chilled champagne, with strawberries and chocolate truffles perched within easy reach.

  Damn Jett. Looked like the guy was hell-bent on seducing her and was doing a fine job of it.

  “You like?” He appeared behind her, his hand resting lightly on her waist. “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Her initial reaction, to chastise him for being presumptuous, faded in the face of his audible uncertainty.

  “Consider your objective achieved,” she said, stepping into the shrunken cabin now that the seats had been converted to beds. “Surprised doesn’t come close to how I feel.”

  “How do you feel?” He pressed against her from behind, leaving her in little doubt how he felt. Ready for action.

  “Like I’ve stepped into some other girl’s fantasy.” The truth spilled from her lips before she could censure it and she instantly regretted it when he eased away.

  “Discounting your ex, who we’ve already established was a dickhead for letting you go, I can safely say all your exes must’ve been putzes for not romancing a woman like you in the style which she deserves.” He slid the door shut, engulfing them in intimacy. “I know this looks like a ploy to coerce you into sex, but that wasn’t completely my intention.”

  She guffawed and he held up his hands in surrender. “What I meant was, when I wrangled this seat after your blatant declaration at the airport, I wanted to make this special on the off-chance you wanted to follow through.” He held his arm overhead. “Considering we’re both this tall, I didn’t want our first mile-high experience to be in a poky restroom.”

  Our first…did that mean their first time together, or he hadn’t had sex on a plane before, either?

  “Joining the mile-high club has always been a fantasy of mine.” He popped the champagne cork, filled two crystal flutes, and handed her one. “Must admit, I’ve never met a woman that I’d go to such lengths as taking her ex-groom’s seat.”

  A small fact that endeared him to her further. “Let me guess. You charmed some poor woman into doing your bidding.”

  “The only woman I’m interested in charming to do my bidding right now is you.” He raised his glass to hers and clinked. “Is it working?”

  She sipped at her champagne, smiling behind the flute. “Considering I love champagne, roses, strawberries, and handmade chocolates, you’re doing okay so far.”

  “Just okay?” He drained his champagne and replaced the glass on the tray. “Looks like I’ll have to lift my game.”

  To prove it, he gripped the hem of his T-shirt and peeled it upward, revealing abs that made her mouth go dry.

  She stared in captivated disbelief as the T-shirt rode higher, revealing a broad chest covered in a smattering of dark hair, every muscle on his torso delineated with mouthwatering precision.

  Maybe she should spend more time hanging around Malibu checking out surfers?

  After pulling it overhead, he tossed it on the floor. “Enjoying the show?”

  “Very much,” she said, unable to control her mouth. With words and otherwise.

  Heat flooded her body from head to foot, lingering in several choice places in between, as he unsnapped the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper.

  Slowly.

  She held her breath as he pushed the denim down over his hips, revealing…navy cotton boxers.

  The fact that she was disappointed he wore underwear pretty much confirmed what would happen once they hit the bed.

  “Tell the truth.” He stood before her in his bare-chested glory, bronze and buff and beautiful beyond belief. “You wish I was commando.”

  “Maybe a little?” She held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

  He winced. “Uh, could you not do that when we’re discussing underwear in the vicinity of my manhood?”

  She laughed, loving how funny he was. Along with gorgeous, intelligent, built, and the rest. “From the way you’re filling out those boxers, you have nothing to worry about.”

  He straightened, hands on hips, a typical macho guy and proud of it. “You noticed, huh?”

  “Kinda hard not to.” Her greedy gaze zeroed in on his erection. “Impressive.”

  “Sweet-talker.” He edged around the foot of the bed toward her, managing to wedge them both into the corner of the tiny cabin. “Now that I’ve shown you mine, maybe you can show me yours?”

  Oh boy.

  The point of no return.

  Allegra drank the rest of her champagne and Jett plucked the empty flute out of her hands. Leaving her free to rest her palms against his chest and savor the hard muscle beneath.

  Her gaze rose to meet his as her palms skated across his chest, skimming his pecs, his delts, his biceps, the fine sheen of perspiration on his skin matching hers.

  “You feel so good,” she said, wondering why she’d never taken the time to explore a guy’s body before.

  Maybe because she’d never been interested flashed through her subconscious before she blotted out her voice of reason. She didn’t want to rationalize or reason tonight. Tonight, she wanted just what she’d asked for.

  Hot, wild, climb-the-walls sex.

  “Before we get started, there’s something you should know.” He stilled her hands as she wondered what he would reveal that would prevent her from getting him naked and into her.

  “From what I can see you’re not impotent, so what’s the problem?”

  “I only have one condom.” He grimaced as his fingers splayed over her waist. “Which kinda puts a dent in my grand plans to fuck you senseless.”

  Relief filtered through her lust as she gaped at him for his blunt assessment of the situation.

  “What? Does me saying ‘fuck’ offend your sensibilities?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, sliding his hands around to grasp her butt and haul her flush against him. “Because I’m going to be saying it a lot.” He ground against her and she moaned. “Fuck, I want to be inside you.”

  He slid his fingers beneath her cotton shorts and toyed with the satin thong, tugging it so it rubbed her clit. “Fuck, I’m going to deliver exactly what you want.”

  He cupped her butt and hoisted her up so she had to wrap her legs around him. “Fuck, I want to make you come so badly I’m aching for it.”

  His dirty talk ratcheted up her excitement and she slammed her mouth against his in an unwieldy clash of teeth and lips. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but getting naked with Jett and having him deep inside her.

  He lowered her to the bed, his tongue doing wicked things with hers, mimicking what she hoped he’d be doing inside her shortly.

  She writhed beneath him, needing the few remaining clothing barriers between them gone. He read her mind, tearing his lips from hers and propping himself up over her long enough to grab her T-shirt and yank it off.

  “Fuck,” he said, staring at her breasts with reverence, before ducking his head to capture a nipple in his mouth.

  Her breasts had never been particularly erogenous, but whatever Jett was doing—flicking her nipple with his tongue, nipping it, sucking it so hard she arched off the bed—he was damn good at it.

  When his talented mouth moved across to her other nipple, he palmed the other, tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger until her head thrashed.

  He raised his head to look at her. “You’re so responsive.”

  His tone held awe. She knew the feeling.

  She didn’t want to tell him it had been a while for her because Flint had been busy with a blockbuster movie premiere, and she’d been working manic hours to secure an A-list client who would cement her business in the big league.

  In fact, even without the rigors of their respective careers, they’d never had a lot of sex anyway. The few times her irrepressible desire to help improve any situation had reared and she’d tried to spice things up it hadn’t worked, so she’d settled for staid. Allegra was a realist and kne
w there was a lot more to a relationship than sex. She was hoping that after one night with Jett she wouldn’t have to reevaluate her opinion.

  “That’s because you’re so good at what you do,” she said, cupping his cheek, savoring the rasp of stubble against her palm.

  “I’m guessing you picked up that flattery trick from me.” His adorably bashful lopsided smile made her want to hug him. “And we haven’t got to the good part yet.”

  “We will.” She guided his hands down to her cotton PJ shorts.

  He needed little encouragement, sliding them down her legs, leaving his face tantalizingly close to her mound.

  He stared so intently at the scrap of pink satin covering her she half expected it to burn right off. His fingers skirted her hips, toyed with the thong’s elastic, building the tension to unbearable.

  When he continued to stare at her pubic region and tease the skin around it, she wriggled. “Jett?”

  “I’m one of those annoying guys who hates ripping the gift wrap off too fast,” he said, then hooked his fingers into the thong and tore it off with one swift move.

  “Oh—” The rest of what she was going to say faded into oblivion as his tongue delved between her folds and licked, a long, slow sweep that ended at her clit.

  She gritted her teeth to prevent an inappropriately loud groan from alerting the entire first-class compartment that she was on the verge of an earth-shattering orgasm. Jett flicked her clit repeatedly, alternating between gentle nips and hard, deliberate licks. She grabbed his head and hung on for dear life.

  “Jett…please…,” she said, her muscles tensing with exquisite pleasure bordering on pain. Every inch of her skin prickled, and with every lick, the sensation intensified.

  He glanced up at her and their gazes locked for a prolonged moment before his tongue centered on her clit and went crazy, licking until her orgasm slammed into her with the force of a meteor.

  She saw stars, pinpricks of white in the darkness behind her closed eyelids, as wave after wave of sheer pleasure crashed over her.

  Allegra had no idea when Jett sheathed himself or when he crawled up beside her, the aftershocks rocking her body all she could focus on. She felt loose and languid and freaking sensational, unable to move even if she tried.