Bachelor Boss

by Christie Ridgway

  She frowned. “Carlo—”

  He kissed the protest away. “Or it will be over too fast, baby.”

  When he lifted his head, her mouth was slack and her eyes were closed. He lowered again to tug on her bottom lip with his teeth, and his blood made another primal whoosh-whoosh-whoosh as she moaned and entwined her legs around his hips.

  Clothes couldn’t stop him from pressing his erection against the heated notch between her thighs. Nothing could stop him from kissing her again, penetrating her mouth with his tongue while his hips mimicked the action.

  Lucy ground up against him, making him dizzy with lust.

  He so wanted her.

  He told her so, whispering it against her mouth. “You turn me on, so hard, so hot.”

  Her hips rolled from side to side and he groaned as desire spread a mist over him. “I turn you on.” There was a bubble of delight caught in her voice, reminding him of just how bright she made his world. “I like the sound of that.”

  “It’s not a sound, baby,” Carlo said, sliding lower on her body. “It’s a touch.” His cheek brushed against the tops of her breasts, and then he turned his head and stroked against her the other way. Her breath caught, he could tell as the mounds of her breasts rose and held there, swelling sweet and warm against his face. He wanted to bathe in her scent, wash himself in every sweet flavor she had to offer.

  His hand was shaking—shaking!—as he worked the front catch of her bra and released her soft flesh. He lowered his head and caressed her new bareness with his cheeks. His chin rubbed against the furled buds of her nipples. Her hands held him there, her fingernails biting into his scalp until he caught her inside his mouth and sucked.

  Her arms dropped to the carpet and her body lifted, a sacrifice to his pleasure. He lavished attention on her sensitive flesh, feeling the tension that tightened her muscles and yet left her at the same time boneless.

  His tongue took a trip down the center of her, tucking inside her shallow navel and playing there, too, as she gasped for breath. He looked up past her wet nipples gleaming in the firelight to her kiss-swollen mouth and her half-open eyes.

  She was desire embodied. Living, breathing lust that tasted like heaven. Carlo felt as if each of his pores was opening in order to take her in.

  And now all he wanted to do was take her up, up, up, to give her back all the heat and air and precious feeling of being supremely alive that she gave to him.

  “Pretty Lucy,” he said, rolling to his side so he had better access to her half-naked body.

  Cat-smiling, she turned toward him, but he pushed her flat again with his hand. “Stay where I can touch you.”

  She pouted, forcing him to lean down and nip at that pooched-out bottom lip. “Don’t you want to feel good, baby?”

  “I do feel good. I just don’t feel enough of you.”

  But she let him slide her bra off her arms so that he could study the curves of her breasts and the sleek plane of her flat belly. Under his gaze, her stomach muscles trembled, and he placed his palm over them, insinuating his little finger beneath the elastic band of her panties that ran around her hips. Those muscles trembled again.

  “Carlo.” She sounded breathless as she tried rolling close again. “Let me.”

  He pushed her back down with his hand, a gentle touch, but one that allowed his pinkie to slide lower. It tangled in soft hair and he pictured them in his mind—golden curls that did little to hide the amazing folds and layers of her sex. He wanted to see that for real, and he would, but now it was so damn erotic to watch his big tanned hand disappear beneath the scrap of lace.

  “Carlo.” Lucy wiggled against the carpet. “I need you. Come inside me.”

  “I’m not done yet.” He wasn’t done with her. He had to get done with her—the thinking part of him that he’d been smothering all night reminded him of that—and maybe this was the way to do it.

  With her, parts of him that had been dead were alive again. But they were unfamiliar parts—maybe even unknown parts—and he wasn’t sure it was smart to welcome their rebirth.

  Maybe it would be best to bury them in pleasure, drown them in the ecstasy of Lucy’s body, let them have this one wild ride, then shut them away before they led him into dangerous territory. He was still a cop at the core and the cop’s instincts were sending out flares in warning.

  Danger. Danger. Danger.

  But now the heat of those flares only added to the burning light flickering against Lucy’s skin and the conflagration roaring inside him. It was so damn hot, and he needed the liquid of her body to cool him down and quiet his clamoring heart.

  As his fingers found the wet bud at the top of her sex, he stripped off her panties. He heard her swift intake of breath. “You’re still dressed,” she protested.

  It didn’t matter. He shifted between her legs and pushed them wide, then bent her knees to open her to him.

  “Carlo!” She sounded anxious, maybe even panicky, but he slid his palms down her legs and gripped her ankles. It was he who was panicked. It was he who had to find a way to chill out and cool down.

  He dropped his mouth to the opened petals of her sex. Her body jerked against his hold, but he only tightened his grip and breathed in her spicy, sweet taste. His tongue swiped the wet, private flesh.

  She jerked again, made a strangled sound, wrapped her fingers in his hair. “Don’t…stop.”

  Don’t stop.

  As if he could. As if one taste of her would somehow be the antidote to all this fiery desire. His mouth opened to taste more of her, to have more of her, to take into himself more, more, more.

  His hands slid up her silky stockings to reach the even silkier texture of her inner thighs. He pushed against them, widening her to him, opening her so that he could get to everything. He had to have everything this time, satisfying that newly awakened Carlo so that after this he could return to his safe, dark hibernation.

  Lucy was whimpering, pleading, moaning, mimicking the sounds that he was too preoccupied to make himself. They both sought release.

  Lucy, from his sensual torture.

  Him, from the terrible, beautiful light that was Lucy, and that was the thing that she’d awakened inside of him. Beneath his hands, her thigh muscles went rigid. Her hips lifted as she offered herself, gave him more, and he took it, took her firmly in his mouth and hoped that this shaking, quaking orgasm she offered up would be the single sacrifice the beast inside of him needed before going back to sleep.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, leaving Carlo to his apparent state of unconsciousness between his sheets, Lucy called John to pick her up. There were things she had to do that day, and getting to them without first waking the man she’d spent all night with seemed like the best plan.

  Gathering her purse and her pumps, in bare feet she eased out onto the porch, prepared to wait for her brother-in-law, whom she’d sworn to secrecy.

  But there was to be no waiting.

  And no brother-in-law.

  Lucy stared as her sister stormed up Carlo’s front walk. “You could get a ticket driving that fast.”

  Elise halted on the step below Lucy, which left their eyes at the same level. Hers held a snap of blue fire. “The one in danger of unwanted trouble right now is not me.”

  Lucy sighed. “I know you think I’m—”

  “I’m not talking about you,” Elise said. “I’m talking about him. ” Her gaze transferred to the closed front door, then she made a move to get past Lucy. “And I’m going to talk to him right this minute.”

  “Whoa.” Lucy caught Elise’s elbow. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To tell that…that bounder to keep his mitts off my little sister.”

  Little sister has a thing for those mitts. Memory Lane beckoned, but Lucy stopped herself from taking that path. “What is a bounder, anyway? And why are you insinuating yourself into my business?”

  Elise blinked. “I always insinuate mys
elf into your business. It’s the natural order of things. And I don’t know what a bounder is, either. It just slipped out.”

  That’s what I’m doing here, Lucy thought. Slipping out. “Let’s go, Elise.”

  “And have you race off into the shower and then to work? No. If you’re not going to let me at Carlo, then we’re going to have a conversation. Right here. Right now.”

  The stubborn set of Elise’s chin told Lucy all she needed to know. With a sigh, she dropped to the porch steps, tugging her sister down beside her. “You’re an obstinate woman, that’s what you are. Always have been. I remember when you knocked over Belinda Beall for passing those mean notes about me around elementary school.”

  Elise sniffed. “You asked for my help then, and admit it, that stringy-haired brat looked better than she ever had sitting on her butt in the dust.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t need, don’t need—”

  “Lucy…” Her sister turned her head to pin her with a laserlike set of blue eyes. “Don’t give me that. Why did you move back home?”

  “I…Well…Because…”

  “You wanted family around to watch your back.”

  “Okay, maybe I did miss you guys, but I wasn’t expecting to be treated as if I were ten.”

  “Goose—”

  Lucy put her palm over her sister’s mouth. “My point exactly. And while I’m accustomed to cringing over Jason and Sam using that nickname, I expected better of you.”

  Elise drew Lucy’s hand away, then tucked her Grace Kelly hair behind her ears. “Come on. You’d be the first to kick someone in the ankles who was bothering me.”

  Sighing, Lucy slung her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “That’s a crack about my height, I know it is, but you’re right. And you’re right that I came home to be among family. But as an equal among them.”

  “Jase and Sam—”

  “Will get their comeuppance one of these days, please God. It’s another reason why I had to be here. To see those two overintelligent, overhandsome, crème de la overconfident big brothers of ours fall flat on their faces.”

  A little smile played around Elise’s mouth. “You might be just in time.”

  “What?” Lucy goggled. “What are you talking about?”

  “I just have one word for you. Twins. ”

  A shiver of delight tracked down Lucy’s spine and she squirmed on the step. “No! You’ve set them up with twins? This is delicious.”

  “And entirely off topic. I came here to save you from Carlo.”

  Too late.

  “But I see it’s too late.”

  Lucy’s gaze jumped to her sister. “Did I say that out loud?”

  Elise shook her head. “You didn’t need to. I can read it right on your face. You’re in love with him.”

  “That’s not true….” Her words trailed off. It was so, so true. Last night, in front of that fireplace, he’d slid into her body and slid straight into her heart. Right then, what had been a little seed—her years-old silly crush—had flowered into something more.

  It wasn’t just the lovemaking, which had been spectacular and sweet and serious and oh so unforgettable. But that flower had been nurtured time and time again during the past weeks.

  His giving her the Street Beat project.

  The way he’d stuck up for her in front of her brothers, expressing publicly his confidence in her ability to do a job for him.

  His support as she’d come apart at the seams when the volunteers were late.

  When you thought about all that, no wonder she was in love with him.

  “He doesn’t want that from me, though,” she whispered to Elise. “He likes his solitude. The way I feel won’t fit.”

  Her sister made a wry face. “It’s six-thirty in the morning. You’ve spent the night at the man’s place. There must be some things he likes about you.”

  She tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a whimper. The night before, after he’d given her a spectacular climax while he was still fully dressed, he’d loosened his clothing, pulled on a condom, and then slid—hard and hot—inside her sated body. Despite the way her bones had been wax-soft, she’d found herself tilting into his thrust, wanting him as deep in her as she could bring him.

  Braced on his elbows, he’d cradled her face with his hands. “This isn’t going away, Luce, is it?” His thumbs had stroked over her cheekbones. “I want you more than the first time. I think I’ll want you more when we’re done this time.”

  She’d managed to shrug, because she’d hated that regret she could see lingering behind the desire. “We’re having some more fun. What’s so wrong about that?”

  His smile had been sad, his kiss soft. “Lucy, you know—”

  “I know you, ” she’d said fiercely. “I know what you want and what you don’t. I know myself.”

  “And you’re just a girl who wants to have fun?” he’d questioned. “Really?”

  She’d dragged down his head and lifted her hips high and let her body and her mouth finish the conversation.

  “Luce?” Elise broke into the memory. “What are you going to do now?”

  She stared at her bare toes. At her last pedicure, the manicurist had painted the teensiest little butterflies on her big toes. They floated in a sky of pale blue and looked ready to flutter off at any second. She could be like them. She could quit her position at McMillan & Milano. Fly away from Carlo. If she did so, even if she left her Street Beat project in the lurch, he wouldn’t say a single word. He’d probably blame himself.

  Of course he’d blame himself. Sober, responsible, noble Carlo Milano would think her defection was all his fault.

  It was an easy out.

  But hadn’t she taken those much too often in the past twenty-five years? Hadn’t she let Elise deal with Belinda Beall? Hadn’t she let her brothers voice the obvious instead of taking a good look in the mirror? Hadn’t the name Lucy Goosey been a too-true reflection of herself at—too many—times?

  “Are you going to quit McMillan & Milano?” Elise was reading her mind again.

  But the question prodded another memory to life. At the restaurant, under the influence of martinis and too much wine, she’d confessed to Carlo about her nonstarter of a career. And not really paid much attention to what he’d replied.

  But maybe you’re right to avoid accounting, Luce. Maybe what was wrong with those jobs wasn’t you, but you with accounting.

  Was that where she’d gone wrong? Was her career a nonstarter because it wasn’t the right career path after all?

  She glanced over at Elise. “What do you think? I’m wondering if I should get out of accounting.”

  Her sister’s eyes widened. A perplexed frown dug a line between her perfectly arched, golden eyebrows. “What are you talking about? You have a degree in accounting. You’re an accountant.”

  And Elise was an actuary and Sam a banker and Jason an attorney.

  Lucy could spell them all now, including accountant, but that didn’t make her any better at her siblings’ game. Her hand ran down the colorful paisley of her silk dress. It was dang hard to be the wild print in a family of tailored business suits. She’d tried for years to fit in, but then nothing had fit right.

  “Lucy?”

  The one interrupting her reverie this time wasn’t her sister, but Carlo. Her head whipped around, and there he was, standing in his doorway.

  Her stomach churned as she mentally cursed her big sister for her bossy ways. They were supposed to be long gone, because this was what she’d hoped to avoid: a confrontation with the man who’d stolen her heart before she’d figured out exactly how she was going to deal with the theft.

  And now they had her sister as a witness.

  Lucy snuck a glance at Elise, who had half turned toward Carlo, as well, and who even in the early morning looked unruffled and serene. Beautiful. Perfect. But he was ignoring Lucy’s sister. His eyes were all for Lucy.

  “Luce? What are you doing?”

&nb
sp; Good question, huh? Her gaze took him in, from his rumpled short hair to his whiskered chin, to the jeans hanging low on his hips. His naked chest looked sexy and warm and solid.

  Like something she could lean on.

  Oh, man. How was she going to keep on working with him when she wanted so much more than he was willing to give?

  “Carlo…”

  At the sound of Elise’s voice, Lucy started. In a quick movement, she grabbed her sister’s wrist. Squeezed. “Let me,” she murmured.

  Elise sent her a searching glance. I’ve got your back, little sister, her look said.

  But little sister was standing up. Lucy rose to her feet, just to prove it. And it was funny, she could stand up and face Carlo in this awkward moment because of Carlo. His confidence in her, the remembrance of his words, “I want you, Lucy,” gave her the guts to…to…

  What was she going to do? There was still that path of least resistance. That “I’m sorry I can’t work with you any longer” excuse that would remove her from further pain.

  He frowned at her. “Why were you sneaking away?”

  Could she tell the truth? Could she say, “Because I’m in love with you”? But he didn’t want to be a couple, and for his benefit she’d painted a picture of herself as a woman who didn’t care about something so serious. It wouldn’t be fair to him to alter that now.

  So she pasted on her best, most upbeat smile and made the hard decision to stick with what she’d started. “Because today’s a busy day and I wanted to get a jump on it. See you at the office.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Germaine slipped her hand through Carlo’s arm. “You’ve changed.”

  Startled, he stared down at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “Something’s different about you.”

  The thought unsettled him. With a frown, he gestured to their surroundings. “I can’t imagine why you’d say so. I insisted we make a stop by the Street Beat site on our way back from our once-a-month lunch. You always complain I’m an obsessed workaholic and I’ve just proved your point.”

  Germaine’s gaze shifted from his face to the immense stadium parking lot that was being turned into a two-million-square-foot festival venue suited to entertaining more than 75,000 ticket-holders over the following two days.