by Heidi Rice
Lust seared through his system as the last of the blood left his brain.
‘Hell, you’re like a Victoria’s Secret catalogue come to life.’
‘A man who reads lingerie catalogues.’ She laughed. ‘You may be my perfect date.’
He dragged her close, let his palms skim over lush flesh and struggled not to hold her too tightly. He wanted to be inside her, right this second. But more than that, he wanted to make this good, better even than their first time. He wanted to savour her, to seduce her, to make her beg, the way she’d once made him beg.
‘I hate to ruin my perfect-date status. But not a lot of reading went on. That catalogue’s the equivalent of Playboy when you’re a twelve-year-old boy,’ he whispered against her neck and felt the shudder of response. ‘But Victoria and her secrets are dead to me now I have the real thing in my hands.’ He unhooked the lacy bra, threw it away, and cupped the heaving flesh in rough palms. She let out a slow moan as he rolled her nipples between his fingers and watched them stiffen.
He fastened his mouth on one engorged tip, made it swell and elongate beneath his tongue, revelling in the choked whimpers of her surrender.
Her fingers fisted in his hair and she jerked his head back. ‘I want you naked too, Carter.’
He grinned at the eagerness, all traces of subtlety, of subterfuge, of teasing gone. But he didn’t plan to make it that easy—not for him, and certainly not for her—despite the fact that the pounding in his pants was now painful. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Take the panties off.’
A tiny crease crossed her brow and her chin firmed. ‘I don’t take orders,’ she announced, the act of defiance somewhat undermined by the heaving breasts and the erect nipples, glistening from his attention.
‘Take them off, or I rip them off.’ He let his gaze drift to the delicate red lace. ‘Your call, but they look pricey.’
Her eyes narrowed, but then she laughed. ‘You want them off, you take them off. Knickers aren’t that easy to rip...’ she began.
He twisted the delicate lace in his fist and tore. ‘You were saying?’ he murmured as he flung away the tattered remains of her pricey underwear.
Her eyes went round, but he caught the flash of shocked arousal lurking in the deep green depths.
That’s right, sugar. I’m the one on top now.
‘Those were worth fifty dollars,’ she gasped in a breathy whisper that sounded more surprised than outraged.
‘Not any more, they’re not.’ He curled a hand round her waist, yanked her back.
Her palms flattened on the front of his shirt, and he saw the spark of excitement, a split second before she gripped his collar—and ripped.
‘Two can play at that game, big boy,’ she purred as the sound of tearing cotton, buttons popping, filled the air.
But when she let go of the torn fabric to touch his bare skin, he grasped both her wrists, swung her round, banded his arms around her midriff, and held her captive. ‘But only one of us can win.’
‘What the...?’ She struggled as he brought her flush against him and her naked buttocks nestled against the stiff ridge in his pants.
‘No touching,’ he commanded, nipping her ear lobe. ‘Until I say so, sugar. I’m in charge this time.’
And he didn’t intend to relinquish control. Until they’d both been burned to a crisp.
* * *
What the heck?
Gina squirmed against the immobilising forearm, but her movements only increased the friction, making her more aware of his big body surrounding her—and what felt like a two-by-four nestled against her bottom. She stilled, sure she could feel the massive erection barely contained by his trousers swelling even more. And wondered how the hell she’d got into this position.
Trapped, vulnerable, overpowered and impossibly aroused.
‘Look at yourself.’ The low command whispered against her ear, the shiver of awareness skittering down her spine. Heat flushed through her as she lifted her head and saw the shocking reflection in the glass wall that looked out across the dark expanse of the Hudson River.
Moonlight illuminated her naked body—which glowed an unearthly white but for the stiff rosy nipples and the neatly trimmed raven curls at the apex of her thighs. Her pale shape contrasted sharply with the tall dark figure holding her captive—still fully clothed but for the glimpse of chest she’d exposed.
She gasped, shocked not just by the wanton view, but the fierce surge of desire. ‘For goodness’ sake, Carter, draw the blinds or something.’ She fought his embrace. ‘The whole of Manhattan can see us.’
She might be an exhibitionist, but she didn’t want to get arrested.
‘Settle down.’ He chuckled, the sound thick with arrogance and amusement. ‘The glass is treated. No one can see you but me.’
She stopped wriggling, far too aware of his forearm flexing under her breasts, the chest hairs prickling against her back and the rod of steel that pressed into her buttocks.
‘And I intend to enjoy every single inch,’ he murmured as he lifted her limp arm and placed it around his neck, making her breasts thrust forward.
She swallowed, her throat parched as her eyes watched herself in the glass—mesmerised by the sensual image, and the harsh demand in his gaze as his eyes met hers. Suddenly this wasn’t a game any more.
Shock and excitement burned away on a surge of lust so fierce, so all-consuming, she felt woozy.
He drew his thumb down the inside of her arm, making her whole body quiver as sensation arrowed to her centre. His forearm tightened around her waist, holding her upright for the delicate torment, as seeking fingers circled her breast, exploring in maddeningly slow circles.
She moaned, stretching into the teasing caress. ‘You need to hurry up,’ she demanded. ‘Before I explode.’
He plucked at her nipple. The pinch was painless, but hard enough to send darts of sensation spiralling to her yearning sex. And make her cry out.
‘Patience, grasshopper,’ he whispered. ‘Or you will be punished.’
A hoarse laugh popped out of her mouth—her mind dazed by the slow torture, and the unbearably erotic threat.
‘Shh.’ His lips nuzzled the soft skin of her neck. ‘We’ve hardly even started.’
‘Oh, God!’ She jolted against the restraining forearm as his torturous touch left her breasts and trailed down. His fingertips caressed, stroked, seduced, but so slowly, she knew she’d probably die of anticipation before they got where she needed them to be.
‘Please...’ she sobbed as her belly shivered, each tormenting caress sending a new pulse of heat to her core.
‘Please what, sugar?’ he mocked, the thick molasses of his accent scraping at the last of her resistance. ‘Please stop?’
‘Don’t you dare!’ she demanded, her voice hoarse with desperation as his fingers teased the curls that hid her sex, but stopped short of their goal.
Her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at their reflection, registering the dark hand so close to heaven and yet so far—and the feral arousal on his face.
Who was this guy?
‘Tell me what you want,’ he said, his voice strained but firm, ‘and you just might get it. If you ask me real nice.’
‘Touch me.’
‘That’s not nearly nice enough,’ he mocked, still teasing her with his circling fingers.
‘Touch me, please.’
She writhed as his fingers delved into the slick folds. At last. He swept across her swollen clitoris and the coil of desire tightened unbearably.
‘That’s not...’ She protested, frustration rising and intensifying the need as he retreated again. Why wasn’t he touching her there?
‘That’s not what?’ She heard it then, the smug hint of amusement. ‘Maybe you need to beg?’ he teased.
‘Oh for...�
�� She bit off a curse, held back from that glorious oblivion by an invisible thread—that only he could cut. ‘Will you just touch my...’
She cried out, the tirade interrupted as blunt fingers stroked over the burning nub.
‘Touch you there, huh?’
She writhed, bucked, giving him his answer as he caressed the perfect spot—and she hurtled towards oblivion under the exquisite torture.
‘Come for me, Gina.’
The wave crested, and broke in a shattering shower of bright white sensation, as if brought forth by his command. Then flowed over her in one glorious surge after the other as he stroked at the heart of her—in the perfect place, at the perfect pace—beckoning her up and over again.
His hand withdrew and she sagged against him, hollowed out, exhausted, by the staggering intensity of her orgasm, and the fight to maintain some control over her own body—and his effect on it.
A fight she was pretty sure she’d just lost. Completely.
Rousing herself, she swung round as his forearm loosened. And grabbed hold of his shirt, tearing the remains of it off his shoulders, determined to regain some of the lost ground.
She threw the tattered cotton over her shoulder. ‘Oh, dear, look what I did to your shirt,’ she mocked. ‘I guess I won’t charge you for the panties.’
‘Damn straight you won’t,’ he replied, not looking cowed in the least. ‘That shirt cost me over two hundred dollars. So I figure you owe me.’
She allowed herself a moment to absorb the breath-taking display of tanned skin and bulging muscles—before making quick work of his belt buckle. And drawing down the zip to reveal the huge bulge straining against his boxers. Her eyes met his and she cupped the firm package. ‘Then it must be payback time.’
So what if he could seduce her into a coma? Didn’t mean she couldn’t seduce him right back.
‘Yeah, I guess it is,’ he said, the challenge in his cobalt eyes unmistakeable. ‘Give it your best shot, sugar.’ The low chuckle was as smug as ever as he kicked off the rest of his clothes, and stood before her gloriously naked.
She took a few extra moments to get her breath back.
Goodness.
His body had matured, the once lean, coltish physique gaining muscle bulk in all the right places—making his shoulders broader, the V of his hipbones more defined, his triceps and biceps a lot more prominent and the ridged six-pack quite simply awe-inspiring.
Someone had been working out. A lot.
She touched a nail to the new swirls of chest hair that now surrounded his flat brown nipples and then traced the happy trail down to the thicket where his erection jutted out.
Oh, my word.
Was it her imagination, or had that got even more magnificent too?
‘Carter, you’re beautiful,’ she said, running her tongue over her lips as she dropped to her knees. She smiled up at him, adrenaline surging through her veins like a heady drug as she circled his girth, felt it twitch against her palm—and saw the fierce flash of need cross his face. ‘Brace yourself, sugar,’ she purred, mimicking his lazy, moonlit and magnolia tones. And then swept her tongue from the root to the tip and heard him moan.
* * *
Holy hell!
Carter ran his fingers into her hair, caressing her scalp, as his knees turned to Jell-O and the fire in his gut became an inferno.
Stay upright, damn it.
He dragged his gaze away from the sight of those soft, full lips surrounding him, and struggled to take the exquisite punishment like a man. But then he saw their reflection—and the decadent image of Gina on her knees, pleasuring him with her mouth, nearly had him collapsing in a heap.
She should have looked submissive as she knelt before him, but instead she looked bold and defiant, like an Amazon goddess, feeding into every schoolboy sex fantasy he’d ever had about her. And he’d had a heck of a lot of those over the years.
Hellfire and damnation.
That was where he was headed and he didn’t care.
He tried to force his mind to engage in banalities to stem the tidal wave of his orgasm and keep from disgracing himself. Against shuttered lids, he conjured a picture of the Sunday service at Riverbend Church; the board of directors of the Mill discussing the end of year’s report...but every single image crashed and burned to be replaced by the glorious sight he’d glimpsed in the dark glass as her tongue licked and swirled, her mouth suckled. An image he feared would now be lasered into his brain for ever more.
He groaned, the heat curling and twisting and then yanking hard in his groin as her hot, beautiful mouth feasted on the last few ounces of his self-control.
His fingers tightened in the mass of curls as he dragged himself away from her. ‘Enough.’ Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoisted her off her knees.
Her cheeks pinkened as those bright green eyes flickered with challenge. ‘Why did you stop me? I was enjoying myself.’ The pouting lips made the heat pulse and throb harder.
He grabbed her wrist as she reached for him. ‘Uh-uh. I said enough.’
She cocked one perfectly plucked eyebrow. ‘Why? From all that moaning you were doing, I got the definite impression you were enjoying it too.’
He grinned. Damned if she wasn’t as wild and reckless and wanton as she’d ever been beneath that layer of chic sophistication—and didn’t that make her perfect for him? In the only way that mattered now.
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it,’ he said, his gaze steady and his voice firm, or as firm as it could be while he was clinging onto control by his fingertips. ‘I just don’t want to come that way. Not this time.’
‘Spoilsport.’
He laughed, but tightened his hold on her wrist and brought her fingers to his lips. ‘I want to be inside you, Gina. I want to watch you climax with me—you’re even more gorgeous when you come.’
He kissed her knuckles and a wary look crossed her face, giving him another disarming glimpse of the girl he remembered, who had been so bold sexually, and yet so unsure at the slightest sign of tenderness.
She draped her arms over his shoulders, threaded her fingers into his hair to drag him close, the siren returning full force—and he dismissed the sentimental thought. After all, there was nothing tender about tonight, and what he planned to do to her.
‘Well, all you had to do was say so, Rhett,’ she purred.
Brushing the riotous hair back from her face, he kissed her long and hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and forcing her to submit this time.
Cupping her generous butt in his hands, he boosted her into his arms, dumped her onto the room’s kingsize bed. ‘Consider yourself told.’
* * *
Gina laughed, the desire coursing through her veins and the electric connection that snapped to life between them making her feel free and unencumbered for the first time in a long time. It felt so good to relinquish control, to be able to take what she wanted without fearing the consequences.
Carter wouldn’t judge her, because he knew who and what she really was. When it came to sex—hot, hard, explosive sex—they had always been kindred spirits.
He bracketed her hips and pressed his lips to her pulse point, drawing her knees up and positioning himself above her—but as she took in a deep lungful of that tangy masculine scent the press of his erection registered. The intoxicating desire ripped away to be replaced by a jolt of panic. Slapping her hands against his shoulders, she forced him back.
‘Wait, Carter. You have to use protection.’
He lifted his head, his eyes a little unfocused, a little dazed.
‘Please tell me you have something with you, because I don’t,’ she continued, the panic making her voice hitch. She should have said something sooner, much sooner. Why hadn’t she?
‘Yeah, sure. Sorry.�
� He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Wait right there.’ He jumped off the bed and padded to the suite’s bathroom, his naked butt gilded by the moonlight.
She stared at the ceiling, the sudden realisation of what they’d almost done—a second time—dousing the flames.
He reappeared in the doorway of the bathroom. Her pulse hammered at the imposing sight silhouetted in the doorway. But as he returned to her she was hurled back to a time in her life that had left her hollow and empty and devastated. A time she had forced herself never to acknowledge. She sat up, threw her legs over the bed.
‘I have to go,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice steady as the brutal memory hovered too close, threatening to engulf her.
‘Why?’ He caught her wrist, preventing her from moving as he sat beside her. ‘I found what we needed.’
He threw a handful of foil packets on the bedside table.
‘That’s great. But we don’t need them now. This was a mistake.’
She braced herself, ready for him to object, to call her names—it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been branded a tease or worse. And given how his arousal didn’t seem to have abated one bit he would probably have a point. But right now she was too busy protecting herself to worry about any injuries she might have caused him.
But to her surprise, instead of getting angry or annoyed, he lifted a palm and cupped her cheek. ‘Why is it a mistake all of a sudden?’
She shook her head to dislodge the possessive touch—this was fine when it was just sex, but she didn’t want to risk getting her emotions involved. ‘No reason.’
She tried to rise again, but he simply held her waist, making it impossible for her to move without getting into a wrestling match—something she definitely didn’t intend to do, because, while her head was telling her clearly making love with Carter Price would be a very bad idea now, she couldn’t rely on her body to play ball.
‘There is a reason,’ he replied in that CEO tone he’d been using all evening. She’d found it a major turn on during foreplay; she was finding it somewhat less so now. ‘And you need to tell me what it is.’
‘No, actually, I don’t. I’m under no obligation to—’
