by Joanne Rock
He could see where the story wouldn’t be good for her business. But what about the bigger picture? “What about the public good? Wouldn’t you like to see this guy get caught?”
“Sure I would.” She shrugged. “I just don’t like the idea of our hotel going down the tubes with him because this place was at the center of his crimes.”
“Think about all the time he’d be serving. Right now he’s sipping piña coladas on a beach somewhere, tanned and happy, while you work your tail off to change public perception of the club. It’s not fair.”
“You’re very idealistic, Hugh Duncan.” She shook her head, a wry smile on lips that were dark pink even without any lipstick. “And I don’t think you understand what you’re asking of me. Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by putting my life on hold because it’s all about to erupt in my face, and you wouldn’t want any part of that mess.”
“Why don’t you let me decide?” He’d covered breaking news assignments in war-torn lands and helped smuggle women and children out of hostile countries whenever he could along the way. Surely he could handle the fallout from Giselle’s former relationship. “Unless…”
“What?” She glared at him, her dark eyebrows knitting together as she frowned. “I’m beginning to think I don’t like your ‘unlesses.’”
“Unless you’re worried about me becoming another mistake for you.” He didn’t want to push her while she was vulnerable. Hell, he’d built a whole career around a desire to protect vulnerable women.
She sniffed. Sat up straighter on her ottoman. “Who says I’m going to be making any more mistakes? I’m a different woman now than when I got taken in by Flynn.”
“Oh, really?” He leaned in closer, his mouth ready to claim hers at the slightest hint of encouragement. “Does that mean you’re ready to quit worrying about the consequences and just see what happens between us?”
At least for the next few weeks? He wouldn’t be sticking around South Beach any longer than that, but Giselle struck him as a woman who wasn’t looking for anything more permanent anyhow. For his part, Hugh had a phobia of staying in one place for too long. Too many important stories to write in other parts of the world.
He felt a little guilty for arguing his way around her, but not so guilty that he had any intention of quitting. It wasn’t often that he employed his talent with words to help him with a woman, but Giselle wasn’t the average female. He needed all the damn help he could scavenge.
She trailed one finger down the front of his chest, lingered on the first button of his shirt. “Well, I do hate to waste a week of delicious freedom. Don’t try to say I didn’t warn you.”
Green light.
He saw it in her eyes in the moments before her lids fluttered closed. He heard the go-ahead in the throaty note of her voice as she issued her warning. And damn it if he wasn’t going to move forward with this. With her.
Curving a hand around her jaw, he threaded his fingers into her hair and tilted her head to just the right angle. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers, savoring that sweet point of contact as he kissed her the way he’d wanted to all day. She tasted sweet and complex, like an aperitif flowing warm and liquid over his lips.
Hugh wrapped his fingers around the delicate curve of her neck and cradled the back of her head while her dark, fragrant hair spilled over his arm. Sinking deeper into her kiss, his eyes slid closed, too, his senses already bombarded on every level. He needed to take his time. Concentrate. Appreciate every moment she allowed him to hold her this way.
And damn but he was appreciative.
He smoothed his hands down her arms, dragging her yellow blouse a little farther off her shoulders as he did. Coaxed by the thought of finally seeing hints of Giselle’s bare skin, he pried his eyes back open. A lemon-yellow bra strap drooped to one side. Her blouse askew, the tops of her creamy breasts now exposed, she looked like pure fantasy.
Only he could reach out and touch. Taste. Expose even more.
He banded his arms around her, dragged her closer to kiss her, feel her.
“Giselle,” he breathed her name over her mouth, at a total loss for how to go slow with her. “You don’t know how long it’s been for me.”
“You don’t know how long it’s been for me, either.” She pressed herself even closer, her barely covered breasts pushing against his chest, making him desperate to get her naked.
“I don’t think it’s the same for women.” Moving to the buttons on her blouse, he allowed himself to nudge the fabric a little farther apart with each one he released.
“That’s an incredibly sexist thing to say,” she whispered, her fingers flying over his shirt buttons even faster. “What makes you think you have a lock on pent-up hormones?”
“I don’t have a lock on the hormones, but I’ll bet I’m bringing a hell of a lot less finesse to the equation tonight.” Tucking a finger into each of her bra straps, he dragged the yellow satin south, mesmerized by the cups slowly curling down her breasts to expose taut, rosy nipples.
Very hot.
She rose up on her knees in front of him and crossed over to his side of the sectional sofa, straddling him on her knees. “What do you say we skip the finesse this time and just worry about taking the edge off for both of us?”
Her breasts rested so damn close to his mouth he wasn’t sure he could still think, let alone speak. He took deep breaths. Tried not to think about the soft scent of her fragrance in the air. Fragrance she’d probably used right between those amazing breasts.
He licked his lips and forced out words. “You’re sure?”
Lowering herself to sit on his thighs, she stroked cool fingers around his neck.
“I’m sure I’m not the woman I used to be.” Her eyes pinned him in the dim glow from recessed lighting that seemed to emanate from the tall Doric columns around the suite. “And I’m damn sure I want to move on.”
Giselle didn’t know what she’d do if Hugh went all noble on her now. She’d been prepared to walk away frustrated tonight, knowing he’d never want to dally with a woman determined to keep him from writing his story.
But he’d already written the thing, already set the wheels in motion to send her life careening out of control. Could she help it if the man didn’t have sense enough to run from the impending crash?
Hell no. Especially not when those warm male thighs of his provided the most provocative seat imaginable. She could feel the fire in his body right through the coarse cotton of his khakis. Sitting astride all that leashed male heat and power made her downright light-headed.
Pressing a kiss to her breast, his hands smoothed around her back to unhook the clasp of her bra. Her heart galloped in her chest as he freed her from the yellow satin.
And, dear heaven, but the way the man stared at her made her weak-kneed. His green eyes darkened to the color of the Everglades at night as he watched her, his thumbs shifting over stiff, aching nipples.
“Lady, I’ve been seeing you naked in my mind all day.” He traced slow circles around the center of breasts grown heavy with desire. “But my imagination didn’t even come close to doing you justice.”
Logically she knew the man had a way with words to be in his business. Still, her every feminine instinct purred at the compliment. What woman didn’t long for a man to be blind to her physical imperfections?
That hungry stare of his made her feel beautiful. Delicious. And very ready for more.
“You haven’t seen the rest of me, though,” she teased, rising up on her knees. She smoothed one hand down her abs to grip the waistline of her skirt and inch it downward. “Don’t you want to see if the rest of me lives up to your expectations?”
Her thighs shivered as her hem tickled its way down her legs.
Hugh’s gaze followed it, then settled on the exposed patch of her belly just above her low-cut thong.
“Yeah, I want to see,” he rumbled hoarsely, his mouth enticingly close to what she was about to unveil.
Fueled b
y Hugh’s hungry green stare, she reached for the hidden zipper at her hip and dragged the tab down. The sound mingled with their heavy breathing in a room gone tense with anticipation. She edged back off the sofa to her feet, allowing the skirt to fall around her ankles.
Leaving her clad in a tiny yellow thong tied to her hips by skinny white ribbons.
Hugh’s gaze roved over her, flicking up to meet her eyes for the briefest instant. “More.”
“More?” She twisted the end of one white ribbon around her finger, her whole body pulsing with the need to be seen. Appreciated. Ravished. “As in, you haven’t seen quite enough yet?”
He reached for her hips, drawing her closer to stand between his open thighs. “As in, I expect to see a hell of a lot more before I leave this room.”
Her mouth went dry at that particular notion. Her fingers fumbled in their quest to undress.
“Let me.” He brushed aside her hands that had started to tremble. Taking both sets of ribbons in his hand, he inched forward on the couch, seated at eye-level with the satin-clad package he was about to unwrap.
His breath fanned over her belly, over her panties. Her nerve endings screamed for his touch. His tongue.
She gasped as he tugged both sets of ribbons at once, freeing her from the last scrap of fabric. Her knees quivered beneath her, but Hugh was already there, supporting her thighs as he spread her legs wider. Sinking down off the couch, he settled between them to take her into his mouth. Kiss her intimately and, oh…
Heat streaked through her at the first stroke of his tongue.
“Hugh.” Her fingers tangled in his silky dark hair, her hips seeking more of that superb pleasure.
His shoulders were underneath her somehow, his hands anchoring her thighs to hold her just where he wanted her. She wanted to wait, to linger in that place of pure sensation awhile, but her body had been too long denied to take orders from her brain. Already the provocative tension coiled tightly inside her, teased mercilessly by the soft flick of his tongue as he nipped and licked and…
A cry wrenched free from her throat as her release ripped through her, wave after wave of sultry spasms rocking her whole world. She held on to his shoulders, his arms? She didn’t even know, couldn’t feel anything beyond that electric flashpoint that pulsed with hot sensation.
And still his mouth stayed with her, coaxing every last wayward contraction from her inner muscles, tasting her as if she were an exquisitely prepared dish.
“Please,” she finally murmured, finding her voice as the final shockwaves rolled through her. “I want you inside me.”
Hugh shoved himself to his feet, his hard body making her shiver all over again.
“I want that, too.” He stepped out of his shoes, shook off his unbuttoned shirt as he sealed their hips together. “You said you were okay with no finesse, and let me warn you, this is where it ends, woman.”
Breasts flattening against the lean muscle of his chest, Giselle reached between them to unfasten his belt, open his trousers.
“Got it. No finesse.” She slipped beneath his boxers to curl her hand around the length of his erection, savoring the silky heat of him. “All I ask for is hard and fast.”
The guttural sound that traveled through him was more animal than human, and by the time it was over Giselle was flat on her back on the sectional sofa.
She blinked just in time to see Hugh fling his pants away, a foil packet in his hand. He stretched out over her, handing off the condom as he kissed her mouth, nuzzled her neck, nipped her ear.
“Did I mention it’s been a long time for me?” he whispered the words in her ear as he cupped her breast, circled the stiff nipple.
“You might have said something about that.” She ripped the packet in half and used her fingers to gauge which way to roll the device on him.
“Did I mention that phone call we shared today nearly made me come while sitting all by myself on an airplane over the Atlantic?” He lowered his head to her breast, twining his tongue around the taut center before drawing her into his mouth.
Giselle couldn’t help the warm pleasure his words inspired. “You must have forgotten to share that part.” Centering the prophylactic over the thick length of his cock, she rolled the condom down in one smooth motion. “You liked our conversation that much?”
Levering himself above her on his elbows, he positioned himself between her legs. Giselle reached for him, urging him closer to her sex.
“The thought of you laying naked in bed, touching yourself and thinking about me…” He eased his way inside her by an inch. Then another. “It made me crazy to get back here so I could touch you like this.”
She arched her back, thrust her hips up to take more of him. All of him. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Glad with every sizzling cell in her overheated body. She hooked her legs around his waist, squeezed him closer.
Hugh growled in response, his muscles tensing. “Not a wise move, lady.”
She could feel him teetering on the edge, his control as scattered as hers. “No finesse, remember?” Squeezing him tighter with her inner muscles, she twined her arms around his neck, drawing him downward for a kiss. “Just hard and fast.”
His mouth slanted over hers with a fierceness that hadn’t been there before. He tasted, nipped, devoured her. Reaching between their joined bodies he drew his fingers over her, rubbed over her slick heat.
Her body shivered and tensed as if it remembered his touch, responding to him on contact. Already, the tension built within her, helped by the sensual thrust and withdrawal between her thighs.
“How about that?” Hugh broke their kiss to breathe the question in her ear. “Do you like it this way?”
“Mmm.” She couldn’t possibly collect her thoughts enough to answer, not when her whole body opened to him this way, when he seemed to control her every shivery, quivery, lush response to him. Then the coiled tension ripped free, igniting seductive spasms that pulsed all around Hugh as he buried himself deep inside her.
She might have screamed. She probably scratched him as her fingers sank into his shoulders to draw him close, closer.
His shout echoed over the marble tile, the sound as timeless as the Doric columns surrounding them in their miniature pleasure palace. She clung to him, relishing the way she could almost feel what he felt, the pounding of his heart melding with hers as he found his own release.
Limbs languid, body sated, little pulses continued to rock through her as she lay on the sectional, wanton as any Dionysian reveler. She blinked up at the fresco painted on the ceiling, wondered what the group of Greek goddesses above thought of her falling into bed—in this case the sectional sofa—so easily with this man.
Then again, they were female, weren’t they? Surely they could see the appeal.
“Are you okay?” Hugh shoved up on one elbow. He’d been laying to one side of her, no doubt in an effort to keep his weight off her.
Warmth rolled over her at the concerned look in his eyes. She hadn’t expected to feel this kind of tenderness for a man she’d only just met. Maybe it was just endorphins. Wasn’t that the chemical explanation for warm fuzzies? “I’m still conscious, but it was a near thing.”
“I’m usually a hell of a lot more…” Hugh searched for the right word to explain away his lack of control. Normally he could stretch out pleasure for hours. But not having been with a woman for months, and then having his first time in months be with this hot-as-a-pistol erotic pastry chef, he was toast before he even started. “…Tantric about sex. And I swear I have huge reserves of control.” He skimmed a hand over her hair, savoring the fragrant silk. “Just not this time.”
She smiled as if he’d paid her a high compliment, then shifted below him as if to make herself more comfortable. “Tantric?”
He shrugged as he rolled off her, settling on his side so they could face one another on the wide couch. “I don’t make it a habit to get involved with women when I head overseas, so Tantra seemed
like a good way to rein in control over the sex urge. It definitely helps keep me focused when I have to go without, but I would need to be a lot more proficient to hold out with you. Especially the first time.”
“Does that mean you’ll be coming back to the Pleasure Parthenon to seduce me again?” She ran her fingers lightly over his biceps.
“Damn straight.” He peered down at his watch in the half-light. “Assuming you’re still speaking to me after my article comes out three hours from now.”
Maybe a wiser man wouldn’t have brought it up while they were still entwined, their bodies still warm from lovemaking. But damn it, he didn’t like the article—and he especially didn’t like Robert Flynn—hanging over them.
“Screw the article,” she mumbled, ducking her head farther into the crook of his arm. “I mean, no offense to you or anything, but I can’t spend my time worrying about what might happen.”
Hugh reached under her chin, tipped her face up so he could see her. “But have you ever considered that maybe you wouldn’t have to spend time worrying if you simply faced the situation head-on?”
Blinking rapidly, Giselle remained silent. He couldn’t be sure if he’d struck a nerve with his suggestion, or if she was simply really pissed.
“When we were talking about it before, it occurred to me that you were just as concerned what your friends would think as you were about this Flynn guy actually showing up again. Your friends should be your backup, not the source of your problems.” Maybe he just didn’t get it because he’d always been a loner. But how could she call people like that her friends? “What if you—?”
Prying herself upright, Giselle stared down at him with fire in her dark eyes. “And who exactly asked you? There happens to be a lot more at stake here than friendships. I’m also partners with the women this guy hurt in the past. Our relationship is friendly, but it’s also professional. I can’t afford to screw it up.”
“But if there’s a lot at stake, don’t you think that’s all the more reason to hash this out with them?” He didn’t want his article to hurt her, but damn it, couldn’t she take steps to protect herself from the fallout if she laid her cards on the table with her co-owners?
