Murphy's Law

by Lori Foster

  “It’s really nice. Different. I’m not familiar with the style, though.”

  “It’s called Tuscan, but I bought it for the acreage, not so much the design of the house. I like my privacy.”

  “Jude likes water. And bathrooms. I swear I could live in one of his bathrooms, they’re so posh.”

  He and Jude had that in common, then. But rather than tell her so, he’d like to show her his newest toy in the bathroom—a spigot in the ceiling that filled the tub with the effect of a waterfall. He’d thought many times what a nice accompaniment his playground-sized tub, with subtle lighting and an invisible sound system, would be to romance. Until now, he hadn’t brought a woman to his home to test that theory. He had a feeling Ashley would enjoy it as much as he did.

  With the push of a button, one of four garage doors opened and Quinton drove inside.

  “God,” she whispered, her nose practically glued to the door window. “It’s like a giant cave.”

  “The entire house has very high ceilings.” He put the car in park and turned off the engine. “My security isn’t quite as technical as Jude’s. I don’t have monitors in every room. But a highly recommended and reliable private company installed and runs the alarm system and specialty locks. It’ll serve its purpose. I don’t want you to worry.”

  Sparing him an impatient peek, she unhooked her seat belt “Trust me. Elton and his idiotic revenge is the last thing on my mind right now.” She had her door open before he could get out and do the gentlemanly deed for her. “Now get a move on, Murphy. Time’s a-wasting.”

  Chapter 8

  Ashley got as far as the kitchen and stalled. Not as big as Jude’s? Somehow she doubted that. From what she could see, Quinton’s home was immense, going on forever in all directions. He had an open, sprawling floor plan and mile-high ceilings. Marble floors gleamed, and leaded glass doors and windows sparkled with raindrops.

  Looking around at a mammoth kitchen with a breakfast area and sunroom, across to a formal dining room with fluted columns, and finally toward a two-story foyer, she whistled in wonder. If it weren’t for Jude and getting comfortable in his house, she’d be pretty damned intimidated right now.

  “Rich people amaze me,” She eyed the unique reverse tray ceiling over the polished mahogany dining table. “I had no idea there were so many ways to spend money.”

  “I didn’t build the house, Ash.”

  Turning to Quinton, she said, “No, but you…”

  Whatever thoughts she’d had dwindled into nothingness at the sight of him. He’d pulled his tie free and slipped off his suit coat. With his unbuttoned and untucked dress shirt, she got a great view of his chest, and man, oh man, he had a fine chest indeed.

  Warmth blossomed out from her belly to her limbs and settled low, making her lock her legs together. She whistled again, this time at him. “Just hairy enough,” she said in answer to her earlier question.

  “I reset the alarms.” The awareness in his fascinating eyes intensified while the corners of his mouth lifted. Her appreciation of his body pleased him. “This way.”

  He indicated she should precede him down the hall, and like a zombie, she did so. The touch of his hand burned on the small of her back as he silently guided her past the foyer and through a private vestibule to a lavish master bedroom. The room was bigger than her whole apartment.

  Tiered, vaulted ceilings held small windows to let in moonlight. Oriental rugs warmed a porcelain tile floor. Dark mahogany bedroom furniture, a stuffed couch and two chairs, a gas fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows complemented the size of the room. Opposite the bed, glass doors led to an enclosed porch.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s… I’ve never seen anything like it.” She started to look again at the tray ceiling complemented with roped and recessed lighting, but Quinton caught her shoulders, turned her toward him, and took her mouth.

  It was a slow, gentle kiss, lingering and sweet and damp. She parted her lips and felt his tongue touch hers. Just that, nothing more, but it shot her temperature up a couple of degrees. She slipped her arms around him, then spread her hands beneath his open shirt to relish the feel of him.

  His skin was so warm and taut, his scent delicious. With every breath he took, she experienced the shifting of his muscles. So much leashed power. The thin material of her dress felt like less than air when she cuddled against him.

  She breathed deeper just to inhale him. His hand cradled the back of her head and he deepened the kiss, slowly sinking his tongue past her teeth while drawing her body into complete contact with his. She went on tiptoe to help him, clutching his back, trying to get as close as possible.

  The press of his thick erection between her thighs both startled and stirred her. Urgency thrummed through her veins. She’d never felt like this and she didn’t want it to go away. It was too exciting, too molten and exhilarating.

  She freed her mouth from his. In a broken rasp she barely recognized as her own, she whispered, “Let’s get rid of some of our clothes.” She wanted to feel him everywhere. Right now.

  Quinton stood there watching her in what appeared to be astonishment.

  Was she moving too fast for him? Should she be more subtle? She looked at him, at his exposed chest, now-rumpled hair, and concentrated expression, and she didn’t care about subtlety. He’d just have to deal with her eagerness. But as a concession, she said, “Don’t worry. I can handle this part on my own.”

  Lifting first one of his heavy wrists, then the other, she quickly opened his cuff links and went to a granite-topped nightstand to set them down. When she turned back around, Quinton still stood where she’d left him. His arms hung loose at his sides, his feet braced apart, his head slightly turned to watch her every move.

  She felt like a kid in a candy store.

  Hurrying back to him, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms until it dropped to the floor. Then she just took her time looking at him.

  He might not be a fighter like Jude, but he had an incredible physique, far different than she’d expected from a business exec. She knew he spent forty-plus hours at a desk, yet he looked like he spent an equal amount of time in physical exertion.

  Instead of being bulky, lean muscles roped his shoulders, his pecs, and down his abdomen for an impressive six-pack. Dark blond chest hair drew her fingers, and she stroked over him, very aware of his stillness, the heightened anticipation in his every breath.

  That enticing body hair trailed downward over his midsection, around his navel, then disappeared into his slacks. With one finger she traced that sexy line of hair to his belt. He inhaled sharply.

  Anxious, she gripped his belt buckle—and he closed his hands over hers.

  Lifting one fist to kiss her knuckles, he said, “This isn’t a race, honey.”

  How could he be so calm and controlled? “If it was, I’d sure as hell win.” The room hung heavy with growing shadows, brightened only by the occasional flash of lightning. “You got a light switch in here anywhere?”

  Several seconds ticked by before a small sound of amusement escaped him. “Damn, but you please me, Ashley.”

  “You look confused, not pleased.”

  “Let’s say pleasantly surprised.” He smiled at her. “So you want light?” He went back to the nightstand and turned on a lamp. It sent a gentle glow throughout the room, not intrusive, but illuminating so that she could better see him. “Good enough?”

  She’d prefer him under a spotlight, where she could really check out his goods, but she didn’t want to push her luck. “It’ll do.”

  He strode across the room to the window and with the press of a button, heavy curtains came together.

  Ashley admired his broad back and the play of muscles in his shoulders. “Privacy?”

  “There aren’t any neighbors close by, but I don’t like to take chances.” Now on the other side of the bed, he faced her—and reached for his belt. With deft fingers he opened the buckle, gave
a tug, and it slid free of his slacks with a quiet hiss.

  Her heart popped into her throat, then dropped fast and hard to her stomach. “I need to sit down for this.”

  She slipped off her sandals, hiked her dress up to her thighs, and crawled up onto his massive bed to sit yoga-style. The plush, down-filled white comforter billowed around her.

  With a steadying sigh, she folded her hands into her lap. “Okay, I’m ready. Go on.”

  Even with her fascinated concentration, he wasn’t the least bit discomfited or uncertain. He just looked sexy as hell.

  He toed off first one shoe, then the other. “I’ve never deliberately stripped for a woman before.” Holding her gaze, he unzipped his slacks and pushed them down his hips. He bent to take them the rest of the way off and removed his socks at the same time.

  When he straightened, he wore only snug black boxers that in no way concealed an impressive erection. He tossed the pants aside and stood there in a loose-limbed, in-control way, giving her plenty of time to look him over.

  In a croak, she said, “You should do it more often. You’d make a fortune.”

  “I already have a fortune.”

  Ashley shook her head. He took her breath away. “Okay, damn, I wish I’d worn sexy underwear, too.”

  His half smile didn’t soften the lust in his face. He came to her on the bed, knelt in front of her, and with one finger, toyed with the strap of her gown. “Now you.”

  “See, the thing is…” But she didn’t really know what to say.

  He stared at her while dragging the left strap down, down until the material drooped and he could play one finger across the top of her left breast, pushed up by the specialty bra.

  She swallowed. “Never mind.”

  He teased his finger across her tingling skin again, gently nudging the bra down, and her nipple popped free.

  His smiled faded. His eyes darkened. With a sharp inhalation, he caught her under the arms and lifted her.

  Startled, she said, “Hey, wait— oh shit .” His mouth latched onto her nipple and he sucked softly, and God Almighty, she felt it everywhere: the stroke of his tongue, the pull as he suckled, and the flash fire of heat…

  To balance herself, she sank her fingers into his bare shoulders and dropped her head back.

  How could that feel so good? If she’d known, she’d have figured out a way to try all this a lot sooner. “Quinton?”

  Her shaky whisper got her lowered flat to the bed, but he didn’t release her nipple. He used one hand to plump up her breast and continued to draw on her, running his tongue over and around her, nipping with his teeth, tugging and pulling.

  She moaned and writhed, but that only seemed to encourage him. His hands started caressing everywhere, down her sides to her hips, along her thighs.

  “The bra’s in the way,” she complained.

  He kissed his way up her chest to her throat and then to her mouth. His hand dipped into the bra cup and covered her breast. His thumb rolled over her now-wet nipple.

  The press of his heavy body atop hers only exacerbated already sizzling nerves. She turned her head, gasping for air. “Oh God, wait.”

  Panting, he levered himself up on stiffened arms, giving her some space. As he surveyed her body, he looked more out of it than in charge.

  Ashley touched his jaw. “I want to get out of my bra and dress.”

  His jaw locked. “Roll over.”

  That sounded pretty coarse and somewhat unnerving. “Yeah, uh… why?”

  His head dropped forward and he groaned. “Although it’s not an altogether unpleasant idea, I’m not planning to attack you from the rear.”

  “Quinton…”

  “You have a zipper on the back of your dress. I prefer using it to ripping this thing off you like a barbarian.”

  “Oh. Right. My zipper.” Feeling like an unschooled virgin idiot, Ashley rolled to her stomach and stacked her arms under her cheek. Then she waited. And waited some more.

  Quinton didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.

  After a few seconds she wiggled one foot. “Hello? You still awake, Murphy?”

  His hand settled heavily on her bottom. “Then again,” he rasped, “the rear view of you is awfully tempting.”

  Ashley deliberately wiggled. “Concentrate, Quinton. Zip-per.”

  “In a minute.” His long fingers clasped her ankle.

  Uh-oh. She froze in expectation, barely breathing as she waited to see what he planned to do.

  His hand slid up her calf, then paused at her knee. Using just his fingertips, he stroked her there, trailing back and forth.

  She stuck her face in the mattress and, trying not to be too blatant, opened her legs a little.

  He took the hint and climbed his fingers higher again, along the inside of her thigh, up and up, until he slid over her satiny panties to cup her bottom. “You have a great ass, Ashley.”

  Her muffled, “Thank you,” sounded absurd even to her own ears.

  His thumb slid along the cleft of her bottom, not low enough to touch her where she really wanted to be touched, but enough to make her heart pound painfully. “Open your legs more.”

  Oh, God. She swallowed, and still with her face pressed in the mattress, said, “The dress is too tight.”

  “I’ll help.” He shoved up the skirt until her bottom was uncovered. Material bunched around her waist, while cool air drifted over her skin. A little hoarse, Quinton said, “There you go.”

  Right. Now he wanted her to… open her legs. She gulped—and parted her thighs.

  Immediately, his hand slid over the crotch of her panties. In a seductive whisper, he said, “You’re burning up, Ash.”

  No kidding. To prompt him, she wiggled a little.

  One finger dipped between her legs, sliding along the slippery material of her panties and shooting sensation all through her. She tightened her shoulders and held her breath, and still a moan escaped.

  “I think,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her shoulder, “that virgins are more fun than I ever realized.”

  Ashley drew a deep breath and rose up to her elbows. “Right now I’m more interested in putting that virgin status behind me.” She looked at him over her shoulder, and their gazes locked. “You wanna get on with it?”

  His mouth quirked, but his eyes were molten. “No, actually I don’t.” His fingers searched over her panties, prodding carefully, and then he was touching her in a place that electrified. “I’d rather watch you come first. And incredible as it seems, I think you’re almost there.”

  She wanted to protest, she really did. But words wouldn’t come. Her eyes sank closed, her fingers knotted in his bedding, and she dropped her head forward.

  Quinton began kissing her shoulder again, licking her skin, taking soft, sumptuous love bites that made her tingle all the way down to her toes. And all the while his fingers remained between her legs, teasing her, drawing her, until she felt herself trembling uncontrollably.

  Without interrupting the rhythm of his fingers, he scooted closer to her. He kissed her nape, and then her ear, gently nibbling on her earlobe. His erection pressed against her thigh, and that tantalized, too, reminding her that this turned him on, that he enjoyed touching her almost as much as she liked being touched.

  Something, some insidious, sweet sensation, coiled inside her, tighter and tighter until it became unbearable. She gasped for air. The muscles in her thighs tensed. And before she even realized what would happen, she broke, arching her back and moaning and pressing into the mattress in an embarrassing, uninhibited way.

  Quinton groaned too, closing his teeth on the soft muscle of her shoulder and staying with her until the climax began to recede.

  Her whole body went lax while a little buzz filled her head. “Man.” That one word cost her and she had to suck air for a few seconds before she could clarify. “That was… awesome.”

  Quinton didn’t appear to be listening. He was too busy kissing her everywhere, and at the s
ame time, sliding down her zipper. The back clasp of her bra opened with one small flick of his fingers. He went to his knees, pulled down the narrow straps of her gown, and then rolled her to her back.

  With one arm, he scooped up her legs and tugged the dress past her hips. He tossed it and her bra over the footboard of the bed. An instant later, his fingers hooked in the waistband of her panties and peeled them down her legs.

  So relaxed she felt like dozing off, Ashley watched him look her over, and she smiled at the hunger in his eyes.

  “Your turn, Quinton?”

  Without taking his gaze off her body, he rose from the bed. “And yours. You’ll come again, honey, I swear it.”

  That sounded interesting. But she doubted the possibility of it. “I think I’m shot.”

  “I’ll rejuvenate you,” he said, and shucked off his boxers.

  Eyes wide, Ashley turned to her side and propped herself on one elbow. She patted the mattress. “Come back to bed.”

  “You can count on it.” He went to his dresser and opened the top middle drawer to draw out a box of condoms.

  “You sure are taking your time.”

  That made him laugh. “I’m gathering my control so I don’t ravage you.”

  “Ravaging sounds nice.”

  “You only say that because you’ve never been ravaged. Give me a minute, and I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Shrugging, Ashley sat up and looked around at the bedding. “Should we fold down this comforter or something?”

  “No.” He moved to the side of the bed and set the box on the nightstand. Ashley eyed it and realized it was nearly full. “I like seeing you there, just like that.”

  She snagged a pillow and put it under her head. “Well, I’m starting to feel more than a little exposed, so come join me.”

  “All right.” After opening a condom packet with his teeth, he rolled on the rubber and stretched out alongside her. Drifting his fingers through her hair, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

  “I think I’m a little sweaty.”

  He didn’t smile. He dipped his face into her neck and nuzzled her skin. “I think you’re delicious.”