"Are you ticklish?" she asked him, an amused grin on her lips. She wrapped her arms around his waist, purposely to slide her nails over the spot again, smiling when she saw him flinch. Her fingers skirted along small dimples at the base of his spine and drew to the waistband of his jeans.
Without warning, a slight panic flashed in Peter’s eyes and he grabbed her wrists from his waist, pinning them to the mattress above her head. Her eyes widened. Being dominated by the man intrigued Erica. She was never one for being manhandled, but she breathed deeply as a fresh wave of desire, and Peter’s raw strength, overtook her. Everything about him made her tremble with need - his sinfully good looks, the force with which he took her, and the way he controlled her.
Peter freed her wrists from his vice-like grip, and he quickly left the mattress to stand on the floor. She missed him – his weight, the heat and pressure of his body on hers. Not once taking his eyes from hers, he shed his jeans. Erica laughed when he folded them neatly and laid them on the floor, but the laughter soon died in her throat when, clad only in black boxer briefs, he returned to her.
Without warning, Peter roughly grabbed each of her ankles and pulled her to meet him at the edge of the mattress. Erica helped him unclasp the rest of the tiny buttons of her dress that ran to the edge of the skirt. Her dress was finally open, and he pushed it from her shoulders. Taking her mouth captive, arrested, in another searing kiss, he smoothed his fingers deliberately down her side, until they slid under the lace of her panties. With a quick tug, her panties were suddenly around her knees, and he tugged them down the rest of the way over her feet.
He stood back from her, and he pushed down his boxers. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open at the impressive sight of him. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from him as he came toward her, absently fisting his length as he looked down at her, appreciation flashing in his eyes.
His eyes were predatory, and he kneeled over her, primed, ready to enter her, and she was more than ready to receive him. He leaned over her, propping himself up on his forearms, and his lips were only a breath away from hers. But he stopped, and pulled back, a sudden clarity dissipating the desire that had just a moment ago clouded his eyes.
“Shit, do you have a condom?”
Oh right, she mentally slapped herself. He was so amazing and desirable that she had almost forgotten her number one rule. Always use protection. Her mind was foggy with lust, and she could not seem to form the words she needed. A condom. “Y-Yes.” She always kept at least one on her at all times, because a woman must always be prepared. “Oh, um yes. Yes. In my purse.”
“Good girl,” he breathed, smiling at her, palpable relief in his eyes. She could tell that he was just as desperate for this as she was. He raised his head, to look for her purse.
“I think I dropped it on the floor, by the door,” she told him through heavy breaths. He left the bed and she felt the cool air of the hotel room on her heated skin.
But Peter strode back to her, quickly, holding out her purse. “Here you go,” he handed it back to her. “I learned a long time ago that I should never go through a woman’s purse,” he said with a killer smile.
She smiled back and accepted it. She said a quick prayer of thanks to whatever deity was in charge of one night stands with gorgeous strangers when she quickly found the foil packet without too much trouble and passed it over to him.
Without taking his eyes from her, he ripped the foil and he rolled the condom over his length before he returned to her, regaining his position between her thighs. He reached out for her, putting his large hands on each of her inner thighs, he spread her legs. His gaze fixed to her already wet center.
“Perfect,” he muttered, so low that she could barely hear him.
She closed her eyes and held her breath as he leaned closer to her, hovering over her until she felt one of his fingers separate her folds. She sighed, more like a sob, she knew that if she didn’t have him soon she might explode, and every slow, sensuous touch brought her one step closer to madness. She looked down in time to catch a glimpse of his wicked mouth descending on her sex.
“God, Peter,” she clutched at his hair and pulled when he touched her, as his tongue and lips worked magic below. “I want you now.”
He raised his head and grinned, he looked as far-gone as she felt, but he remained in place. “I’m busy.”
“You’re busy? Get busy up here!” she cried out in frustration.
He shrugged, and crawled up the mattress over her. “Well, if you insist.”
“Believe me, I do.”
He hesitated only briefly to kiss her once more on the mouth, and then relief came when in one solid thrust, he was inside of her.
Erica opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She was stunned by the feeling of having him lie over her. He'd taken control of every part of her, each of her senses.
Peter's hips pulled back, slowly drawing most of his considerable length from her, before pushing back inside. Erica cried out, an uncontrollable sound that escaped her lips, elicited by the delicious feeling of having him fill her yet again. And she gripped his shoulders, her dark, red nails digging into the skin of his back, and he pulled back once again, brutally slow, before repeating, his hips hitting the insides of her thighs.
He planted his face in the crook of Erica's neck and groaned roughly, wrapping his teeth around her earlobe. The primal sound reverberated through her, and she sighed. He continued his controlled, slow technique until she panted and begged him for more.
“Peter, faster. Please.”
He chuckled in triumph against her earlobe. He gave her a cocky smile, and he obliged, and quickened his pace. She matched his thrusts with her own, shifting her hips upward. With their wild, frenetic movements, they shifted the bed, so that the headboard slammed against the wall with every push of their hips.
Erica felt her climax approaching, and everything else in the room fell away, leaving only the two of them. When Peter's lips came to rest on the sweet, sensitive spot inside the dip of her collarbone, it was all she needed, and she rocketed over the edge and came with a loud shriek, crying out Peter's name. She felt Peter's body tense above her, and he pushed inside of her one final time and with a harsh shout, he followed after her.
Peter caught his breath, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. He could feel her breathing deeply below him, and the tips of her fingernails drawing small circles over his shoulders and lower back. His arms shook as he held most of his weight, so that he wasn't completely crushing her. He took a deep breath and without a word, but with tons of regret for leaving her embrace, Peter pushed himself off the bed and quickly picked up his jeans. He looked at her over his shoulder and at the wanton image she presented on the bed. Her incredible breasts heaved as she regained her breath and the thin layer of sheen on her skin glistened in the light coming through the window from outside. His mouth watered at the impulse to wash his tongue over every inch of her body and taste her again.
She was supposed to have been his surveillance target and he’d completely boondoggled his job, by having his way with her. And he’d be damned if he didn’t want her again.
Mitch is going to be pissed.
He had to get out of the room. He went into the washroom, not only to dispose of the condom but also to get a message out to the team and hide the small wire he’d been wearing up until a few minutes ago – the wire that she had almost found when her fingers had reached around the waistband of his jeans. He’d quickly killed the wire without her noticing when he’d taken his jeans off. But anyone listening to the recordings would have gotten an earful of what they’d been up to.
Peter closed the bathroom door and he reached into the pocket of his jeans for his cell phone. By now the team knew that he’d cut off the wire, so he pulled out his phone to send a message to let them know that he was okay. He sent out a quick ‘right as rain’ and powered down his phone once again. Peter dropped the used condom in waste basket, and only hesitated a mo
ment before the broken wire followed a similar fate.
He blew out a quick breath, and thought about Erica in the next room. Turning on the cold water, Peter cupped his hands under the stream. He hunched over the counter and brought the pool of water to his face. The refreshing bite of the cold on his heated skin cleared the haziness that had formed behind his eyes. Erica. The minute she had put her hand on his thigh and suggested they leave the bar, he no longer exhibited any free will. He’d always prided himself on being a man in control of his thoughts and actions, but with Erica, he felt no such control. She did something to him, changed him somehow. And while it scared the shit out of him, he liked it.
Peter looked down at the jeans in his hand, the ones he’d intended to put on when he’d brought them in with him. Once again, he had to make a decision. He could get dressed and call them both cabs to go home, or he could go back out there for another round. He could see the imprint of the scratches her finger nails had left on his shoulders, and he recalled how her sharp nails had felt digging into his skin. And he remembered all of the noises she’d made. He scrubbed his face with both hands and sighed in resignation. There was no way he was putting his pants on just yet.
When he opened the bathroom door and walked out into the room, he saw that Erica had put on her red panties and was holding the lacy bra he'd ripped free from her breasts.
"Sorry about that," he smirked, referring to the torn material in her hands. He wasn’t actually that sorry.
"It's okay,” she smiled, looking at it in her hand. “It was my favourite. But it was worth it. Where's my dress?" she asked him, searching the floor.
"Why do you want your dress?"
“I’m getting my clothes, I figured I should go.”
"You're ready to go?" he challenged her. As much as he knew he should end this here, and she was giving him an out, he couldn’t manage to follow through with it. Peter wasn't ready for the evening to end.
"Well, I figured that we were done here.” Her eyes tightened with the question. “Aren’t we?"
He chuckled, "Oh honey, if you want to go home, like really want to, I will gladly take you home," he walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders, and ran them down her chest to cup her breasts. He felt her shudder under his touch and a cocky surge of male pride. "But, if I were you, I’d just get comfortable. I’ve got a few more moves in my arsenal, and I was just getting started." His thumbs grazed the stiff peaks of her nipples, and she whimpered. "I want to hear you scream my name at least three or four more times tonight."
Erica cried out ad she fell forward, spent. Her headed landed on the cool pillow and she lay on her stomach, as he followed, lying on top of her. He withdrew from her and she felt the mattress dip when he returned to her. Erica rolled over onto her back and exhaled roughly.
“Yikes,” she breathed. “You are something else, Peter Swanson.”
He flopped back down on the mattress and chuckled. “It’s not only me, Erica. It takes two to tango, and I think we put the tango to shame.”
She laughed and reached over the side of the bed to find her purse. She took out her phone.
“What? Are you going to take some pictures?” He said with a smile, making a swipe to grab it from her hands.
She laughed and moved out of his way in time, dodging his hands. “Why? Are you bashful?” She played with him. “But no. If you must know, I’m setting my alarm. I can’t be late for work.”
“What time are you setting it for?”
“5:15.”
He groaned and threw his forearm over his eyes. “AM?”
“Yeah,” she giggled.
He craned his neck to look at the bedside alarm clock. “Erica, I’m very sorry to inform you, but the current time is 3:45.”
“I know,” she admitted. It was late. But she wasn’t the least bit tired. “I guess it would probably be easier to just stay up, instead of trying to get to sleep now, huh?”
“That is true.”
“Plus, I do work at a coffee shop. Lots of unfettered access to caffeine,” she reasoned.
“Also true,” he smiled. He reached out ran his palm up her thigh, setting her skin ablaze.
“Again?” she asked him, amazed by his stamina. “Are you serious?”
“What can I say, Erica? You inspire me.”
Erica leaned up on her elbows and looked down at him. “I think you’re full of it.”
“Really?” he asked with an incredulous laugh.
“Yeah. You walk into my coffee shop, all gorgeous and full of testosterone and pheromones, and then you make me crazy and I spill coffee everywhere, and then I see you at my bar, and now this. All night. I must be dreaming because you can’t be for real.”
Erica shifted on the bed so that she straddled his hips. His eyes, like fire peered up at her. His length grew beneath her and she shifted, rubbing herself back and forth. He moaned in approval. He didn’t take his eyes from her when she dropped her hand and took him in her fist and stroked him.
“But this feels real enough,” she whispered before leaning over him and kissing his lips. They were warm under hers and they vibrated lightly with the moans that she elicited from his throat as her fingers stroked him. Affecting him in such a way made her powerful, and she smiled.
She pulled away from him briefly to reach for another condom, one from the box that Peter had run out to buy from the convenience store across the street. She used her teeth to rip open the foil packet, and she made quick work of covering him, before lowering herself until she was seated in his lap.
She shifted her hips back and forth, drawing back and taking him inside of her. The feeling of him filling her was once again incredible, and she savored it, not knowing if she would ever feel him again. It struck her. This was a one night stand. Nothing more. Something about that made her sad, and it overtook her, distracting her from the deliciousness of the man below her.
“You okay up there?” Peter asked her through clenched teeth, concern and confusion furrowing his dark eyebrows.
She stared at him briefly. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, I got distracted there for a second.”
“Distracted, huh?” He lifted his hips and before she could say anything, he rolled her over and her beneath him. “Well then, I guess if you have the opportunity to think about anything else, that means I’m not doing a good enough job here,” he told her before pulling his hips back and sliding inside of her, once again.
Erica gripped his shoulders for dear life, as he continued his delicious work above her. This man might kill her. If this was anything other than a one-time thing, that is. But all thoughts of anything but the present were banished from her mind when she felt the climax building inside of her. Her breath quickened and her fingers clenched on his back, driving her nails into his hot skin. She stared straight into the eyes of the man who made her feel like she was floating above the bed. And the same fire she knew was in her eyes was reflected back to her through his own.
Chapter 5
Peter parked his car outside of the precinct. It was still early, the sun not quite up. Just an hour ago, when Erica’s alarm had gone off, they’d both pulled themselves out of bed, and they dressed quietly. He’d wanted to give Erica a ride home, but she refused. So they’d both stood outside of the hotel, about to go their separate ways, but then she’d turned to him and had given him a kiss so blistering that she still burned on his lips.
Even after she left him, he could still smell her on him, and during the drive back to his own apartment, he was torn between the wish to preserve her scent forever and lowering all of the windows to get rid of it so he could forget about her, and carry on with his job. While at his apartment, he’d showered and changed his clothes, and looked longingly at his bed. He hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep the past two nights and exhaustion clawed at the back of his eyelids. He would have gladly crawled in there and caught a quick nap had he not known that Mitch was waiting for him at HQ to give him a good scolding.
By t
he time Peter walked into the war room, Mitch was, as Peter’d suspected, already there. Mitch didn’t look up, but Peter could see him working his jaw back and forth. A sure sign that his brother was angry at him, so he readied himself for the blow.
"Just say it," he told Mitch, sitting down at his own desk, directly across from his brother.
Mitch didn’t respond for several seconds, but twitched his jaw. “What the fuck happened last night?” he demanded, slamming his fist down on the top of his desk, with such force that it shook everything on it.
"Nothing." Peter was being intentionally obtuse. There was no way that he was about to get into a discussion about the night he'd spent with Erica.
But Mitch wasn't done. “Nothing,” he repeated Peter’s words with a scoff. He stood and looked down at his brother. "You killed the goddamn wire. Want to explain why?"
Peter shrugged his shoulders, as if the answer was obvious. He casually walked to the mini fridge in the corner and removed a bottle of water. He was absolutely parched. "I didn't want her to find it," he said, before taking a long swallow.
Mitch rolled his eyes. "If you'd kept your pants on, she wouldn't have."
"You know what? It doesn't matter what Erica and I did last night. I did what I was supposed to do. I warned you that I’d be going dark, and I checked in. I messaged you and the team, telling you that I was fine."
"But we lost communication all night. Jesus Peter, did you even notice that the hotel that you ended up going to is owned by Dylan O’Connell?”
Peter hadn’t noticed that. He hadn’t been cognizant of anything but getting Erica up to their room. His mouth opened, but he said nothing.
“Did she suggest going to that hotel?”
Peter wanted to end the conversation. Erica had picked the hotel. With the memory of his night with her still fresh in his mind, he didn’t want to consider the possibility that she was dirty. “Did you follow me? I thought you guys left with the other women?”
Bump & Grind (Brewed Moon Book 1) Page 6
