Nothing else.
Withholding the groan that wanted to escape, he closed his eyes for a moment, straining for control. Those innocent-looking panties would be his downfall. More lace than cotton, they clung to her hips, dipping so low they barely covered her front. And when she turned to set her dress onto a nearby chair, the perfect globes of her pert ass were on full display.
His mouth watered. He almost hoped she’d jump in with the panties on, so they would get nice and wet and see-through and fuel some other fantasy he never knew he harbored for her.
“You’re staring.”
He jerked his gaze from her ass to find her watching him, a bemused expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest, blocking his view. “Sorry.”
“You promised you wouldn’t look.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
She smiled, unhooked the necklace and tossed it on a table, where it landed with a loud clank. “I guess I can appreciate your honesty.” She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties, started to take them off in front of him, but he stopped her with an emphatic, “No!”
Pausing, she wrinkled her brow in confusion. “What?”
“Keep them on,” he said, his voice quiet. Dark.
A flush swept over her cheeks and she pushed her hair off her shoulders, her breasts thrust forward, nipples hard, mouthwatering mounds of flesh he wanted to feast on. With a deftness that impressed him, she dove into the water, a quiet ripple the only indication she’d jumped in. He watched with unmitigated interest as she swam under the water across the length of the pool, finally popping up in the shallow end.
“Nice,” he called out.
Stasia turned, slicking her wet hair back from her face. “Thanks.”
“Feeling better?”
She nodded, her expression one of surprise. “Actually, I am.”
“Water feels good?”
“Definitely.” She swam toward him, stayed a safe distance away when she reached the middle of the pool where he stood. “Want to race?”
He raised a brow. “Seriously?”
She nodded as she treaded water, keeping herself chin deep. Smart move on her part. If he saw her half-naked, glistening-with-water body, he’d probably do something rash. Like grab her, finish what they’d started last night. “Scared?”
“Hell no.”
“Then let’s do it. Start at the shallow end, two laps, whoever touches the wall first wins.”
“Sounds good,” he said reluctantly, following her to the shallow end. She would smoke him. He’d never had any sort of formal lessons, had taught himself at the crappy, crowded public pool where he grew up. She, on the other hand, moved with an effortless grace, as if she’d been born to the water.
She was going to win. And they both knew it. If this little race helped her burn off some steam and aggression, then so be it.
“You know you’re going to lose, right?” she taunted him, a saucy smile curving her lush mouth, and he wanted to kiss her. Drown in her taste, feel that silky tongue of hers sliding against his. Make her forget all about races and blaming mothers and thoughtless fathers. Until all she could focus on was the two of them, together. Sliding inside her, feel her velvety hot wetness clutch him tight, fill her again and again until both of them were coming.
Damn. He needed to focus. She already had the advantage and he didn’t need to give her any more.
“Who says I’m going to lose?” he tossed back.
The naughty smile grew to a full-blown grin and she clung to the edge of the pool, ready to sprint in front of him and most likely kick his ass. He went to where she waited, clung to the tiled edge of the pool much like she did, admiring the tiny droplets of water that clung to her skin like sparkly diamonds.
“I’m feeling competitive tonight,” she said.
“I can tell.” He liked it. Took her mind off her troubles, at least.
“Ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She counted down from three, taking off with a burst of energy that was more than impressive. But he kept up, kept pace beside her, slicing his arms through the water, kicking his legs hard enough, he made waves throughout the pool. Always she was slightly ahead of him, a head’s length, then an arm’s length.
The final lap and she was still ahead, her feet kicking a froth of water that splashed him in the face. Did she do it on purpose? Amused, a little irritated, he wrapped his fingers around one delicate ankle and tugged, pulling her to him with one smooth motion.
Stasia struggled against him, pounded her curled fists on his chest, her legs striking out at his. He dodged her as best he could, hoping like hell she wouldn’t kick him in the groin, proving yet again what a feisty little thing she was. He wrapped his arms tight around her, tugging her into his body.
“Damn you! I was winning.” She struggled some more, her slippery body sliding against his, making his cock stir with interest. She felt good, too good, and he settled his hands on her ass, holding her against his stiffening cock.
“I forfeit. You are the clear winner,” he murmured, lowering his head so his face was in hers.
She looked up at him, blinking away water, her breath coming fast. Her hands rested on his chest, her thumbs stroking absently at his pecs and he gentled his grip on her backside, caressing her there. Pulling her in closer.
Closer.
“Where’s my prize?” she asked breathlessly, her voice pitched low.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, thrilling when she tilted her head, offering him better access. “Right here.” He ground his erection against her.
She laughed as she slid her hands up and down his chest. “You’re bad, Mr. Westmore. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Gavin didn’t answer, dipping his head and pressing a kiss to her mouth instead. Her lips were cool, the inner recesses of her mouth hot as she opened up to him. He teased her tongue with his, slid his hands beneath the wet fabric of her panties, gripping her lush flesh close. She moaned in response, sliding her arms around his neck as she clung to him.
The kiss turned carnal, desperate as their mouths went wider, their hands exploring. He carried her to the wide step at the shallow end and climbed out of the pool, taking her with him.
“Gavin,” she whispered after she broke their kiss, pressing her mouth to the edge of his chin, his jaw, his cheek. “Where are you taking me?”
“The guesthouse.” He strode across the terrace, leaving a trail of wet footprints in his wake.
“But what about our clothes?” She licked the side of his neck, sending a tremor through him, and he gripped her closer, his fingers pressing into her skin.
“Renzo will get them,” he gritted out between his teeth, desperate to retain control. She was setting him on fire, how she kissed him, touched him, felt pressed against him.
He wanted her in the guesthouse, private and out of sight from prying eyes, naked and warm in his bed.
“B—but what will he think?” He cut off whatever else she was going to say, locking his mouth with hers. He couldn’t worry over what Renzo might think. All he could concentrate on was this beautiful, responsive woman in his arms.
And how much he was going to enjoy finally being inside her.
He was surprisingly strong, her attorney. His arms bunched with muscle as he carried her to the tower guesthouse, his chest firm and hard when she leaned against it. His erection was huge, reminding her that he must’ve found something arousing about their little adventure in the pool, even though she’d almost beat him.
Stasia had been furious when he grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him. But then he’d touched her, gripped her close, ground his lower body to hers and she’d wanted to come on the spot. He felt so good, moving against her so that her body sparked with heat.
She loved how possessively he held her. Loved more how he’d thrown open the door without a care, striding with determination toward the bed and deposited her rou
ghly on the mattress, as if he was too distracted to handle her with the utmost care.
Oh how she liked that particularly. He was a very quiet, controlled man who she knew preferred order to chaos. He was organized, precise and paid attention to detail.
But with her, he lost all that organized perfection. He was a flesh and blood man with feelings and thoughts and wants. Wants he couldn’t necessarily control, desires that drove him to commit almost thoughtless acts.
Like tossing her onto the bed as if she was a rag doll. She was still wet, her panties soaked, and she moved to take them off, her fingers curling around the soggy lace and tugging.
“I told you to leave them on.”
A little gasp escaped her and she glanced up, caught him watching her with that smoldering gaze. His eyes had darkened to gleaming hard emeralds, as green as she’d ever seen them, and she couldn’t help it—she stared wordlessly, her mouth dropping open, her breath lodged in her throat.
He was by far the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she’d seen plenty, enough to know the fashion industry was the home of the beautiful people. Men or women, it didn’t matter. There was plenty of beauty to go around.
Somehow Gavin was more beautiful than them all—at least in her eyes.
“But they’re…wet,” she murmured, realizing in a second how provocative her statement was.
His eyes flared. “They’d better be.”
A laugh escaped her when he joined her on the bed, his strong arms banded around her middle, his mouth fused with hers. She opened to his aggressive kiss, her tongue tangling with his. She sank her hands into his hair, fingers tugging on the silky ends, drawing him closer. As close as she could get.
“Take them off,” she whispered, grinding her hips to his.
He groaned in answer, his mouth devouring hers, his hands resting at her hips, over the wet fabric of her panties.
“Please, Gavin. I want them off.” She begged on purpose. Every man she’d ever been with loved it, and with Gavin, she didn’t look at it as a sign of weakness. She wanted him to take over, to command her body, to bend her to his will and possess her completely.
“Are you begging?” He sounded surprised. She wasn’t the type to beg. But she knew his touch would bring insurmountable pleasure. He was worth it.
She was starting to believe he was worth a lot of things.
“I am. You’re not going to make me beg more, are you?”
He tugged her panties down her body as best he could before she took over, kicking them off. Cried out in shock when he grasped hold of her wrists and hauled her arms above her head, pinning them there with one hand. She remained silent, watching him, anticipation curling through her blood, making her hot, restless. Wiggling against him, she lifted her hips, his cock brushing against her belly, and she whimpered at the sensation of his hot, firm flesh burning against her.
“I think you like begging.” He tightened his grip on her wrists, licked his lips and settled his gaze on her mouth. So dangerous, so sexy.
Only you. The thought floated through her mind, unbidden. Shocking.
True.
Squirming, she tangled her legs with his, thrust her breasts against his chest, her sensitive nipples brushing his pecs. “Please,” she whispered. “I want you inside me, Gavin.”
He growled, dipped his head and stole her breath with a heady kiss. She opened to him, jerked her hands against his firm hold, wishing she could touch him. Loving how he kept her completely pinned so her every thought, her every sensation, involved him.
And only him.
He broke their kiss and reached toward the bedside table, plucking a condom from within the drawer. Tearing it open, he reared up on his knees, rolling the condom onto his thick length with his free hand, still holding her wrists pinned to the mattress. She watched with unabashed interest, intoxicated by the sight of his gorgeous masculine body, hungry to taste him, to feel that first exquisite thrust when his body joined hers.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, referring to the condom.
Gavin shrugged. “They’ve been there the entire time.” He didn’t give her a chance to say or think anything else, bent toward her to steal a quick kiss before he watched her with hot eyes. “So pretty.”
Leaning in close, he licked at first one nipple, then the other, alternating between them both, wetting her distended flesh until the sensation became almost painful. He blew across her nipples, his warm breath making them pucker and tighten and she bucked beneath them. “So needy, aren’t you, baby?”
She wanted to lose herself in him. Find that mutual pleasure she knew they created so easily together. He seemed to sense her need, lifting away from her so he could grab hold of the base of his erection, draw the head up and down her soaking wet slit.
A shivery moan escaped her at his teasing. He knew how to drive her crazy with desire. “Gavin.” His name left her on a gasp when he broached her, the head of his cock poised at her entry.
“Mmm, I like the way you say my name.” Releasing his hold on her wrists, he inched inside her, so achingly slow she wanted to die from the pleasure of it. He stretched her, filled her with his thick, pulsing cock, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, sending him deeper.
They moved together, slow and easy, Gavin controlling it, using such restraint she couldn’t help but admire him. Opening her eyes, she watched him. Saw the tension it was causing him in the sheen of sweat on his skin, the clench of his jaw, the distended cords in his neck. All that restrained power boiled beneath the surface, waited to be set free, and she reached for him. Set her hand against his cheek, stroking his skin with the tips of her fingers as she quietly called his name.
His unfocused gaze settled upon her, his body trembling with the force of his barely tethered control. “What?” he bit out.
She would’ve laughed, but it wasn’t the time. She wanted all that power and passion unleashed upon her. Now. “Don’t hold back on my account,” she whispered. “Please.”
Her words were like a switch. Eyes darkening, he let go with an agonized groan, his hips pumping against hers, his cock filling her again and again, ratcheting the swirling, pleasurable sensations inside her until she was consumed with them. Consumed with him.
Clinging to his damp body, she undulated beneath him, crying out when he reached between them and brushed his thumb against her clit, timing those maddening little circles with the rhythm of his thrusts. She gasped at his consistent touch, knew she was close, so close to climax, and she willed the sensation to take over her.
And then she was coming, with such a shout it should’ve embarrassed her. He swallowed her cries, his tongue plunging deep inside her mouth, in time with his frantic thrusts, and then he was coming too, shuddering above her, her name falling from his lips until he collapsed on top of her with a loud grunt.
Stasia held him close, savored his heavy body covering hers. She ran her fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, whispering soft words in his ear, kissing his salty neck. Their bodies were still connected, his mouth rested at her temple as he pressed tender sweet kisses along her hairline, whispering her name. She’d never felt so content.
Her eyes flew open, and she stared unseeingly into the darkness.
The realization scared her to death.
Chapter Twelve
“Alex, thanks for returning my call. Good to hear from you. How’re you doing?” Gavin turned his chair away from the desk, gazing out the window at the New York cityscape. It was a bright day, not a cloud in the sky, and the air had been brisk when he’d exited his apartment building earlier to go for his morning jog.
He’d pounded the pavement as usual, went about his normal route. Stopped for coffee at his favorite shop down the street from his building on the way home, offered his typical morning greeting to the doorman—they always chatted about the weather, the stock market, the economy and how the hell were they going to get out of this fine mess.
His normal, everyday rout
ine. He rarely deviated from it, wasn’t deviating from it now. Yet his life had completely changed. A few days with Anastasia Renaldi, two long nights in bed with her, their naked bodies entwined, and he was a new man.
A man with a new purpose—consumed with the crusade to do right by Stasia. Hence his putting in the call to Worth Luxury first thing upon his arrival to work. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush on this one. Time was wasting.
“I’m fine.” Alex’s familiar deep voice rumbled over the line. He didn’t sound too pleased. “I hear you’re representing Anastasia Renaldi.”
Looked like his old friend wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush either. “I am.”
“Do you believe that wise?”
That question sent his ire up. “Why do you ask?”
“The media portrays her as a scheming young woman hell bent on getting what she believes she deserves, whether it be from the company she’s worked at since she was thirteen or Worth Luxury.” Alex paused, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. “I wouldn’t recommend coming after us like that, Gavin.”
“We’re not coming after you.” Damn, this wasn’t going to be easy. Not that he’d believed it would be.
Alex chuckled. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. Clearly, Miss Renaldi isn’t stupid either. She hired you. And you’re a cutthroat jackass when you want to be.”
Gavin didn’t take offense to Alex’s remark. He was cutthroat. And he could definitely be a jackass. “You know better than anyone else not to believe everything you see or hear via the media.”
“True.” Another pause, this one shorter. “What does she want?”
“Not what you think.”
“So she doesn’t want twenty-five percent of Worth?”
It was Gavin’s turn to remain silent. Were there rumors going around that she wanted one-fourth of what she believed hers? They’d left for a handful of days and the story exploded. “She wants to meet with you.”
“Impossible.”
“Why? And not just you, Alex—she wants to meet with all three of you.”
Worth Everything: Worth It, Book 4 Page 11
