BAD BOYS ON BOARD

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BAD BOYS ON BOARD Page 15

by Lori Foster, Donna Kauffman, Nancy Warren


  Callie could hardly believe what she was doing. So she didn't think about it. She simply let herself feel it, experience it. And when she made him shout, buck, and growl his way through a control-ripping climax, she felt like she'd hit the peak of Everest.

  He was still shuddering when he dragged her up next to him and wrapped himself fully around her, burying his face into her neck. It was pure fantasy, but as he tucked her almost fiercely against his chest, she swore she felt like she'd found the one spot in the universe created exclusively for her.

  Amazing the havoc multiple orgasms could wreak on a person's rationale, she thought, but couldn't wipe the accompanying smile from her face. She did wipe the approaching stampede of questions, concerns, and what-next worries from her mind. He was holding her so tightly it was doubtful he was letting go anytime soon. That was all she needed to know. For now.

  The silence this time was easy, contented. She stroked lazy patterns on his back and kept conscious thought at bay by letting herself float on lingering sensations and a wondrous replay of what they'd just done together. Never had she known, suspected even, that her body was capable of hitting that kind of peak. Once, much less twice. Never had she known she could make a man scream when he climaxed. Her smile grew. All she needed now was the cape and leather thigh-high boots to complete the superpower image she had of herself at that very moment.

  Knowing Dominic, he might enjoy a little dress-up sex.

  "What was that little amused noise all about?" he asked, his deep voice delightfully drowsy.

  Sexually sated, she thought. All because of her. She reveled in the thrill that thought sent through her. Her superpowers emboldened her. "I was debating the merits of dress-up as part of foreplay."

  She felt him lift his head, suspected he was looking down at her despite the dark. "Were you now?"

  She shivered at the predatory tone.

  "And who would you be wanting to dress up as?" he asked.

  "I'm torn," she said, quite seriously.

  "Between?" he asked, equally deadpan.

  Had she known postcoital banter could be so tantalizing she might have tried it sooner. Thinking back on Peter's ability to go from climax to snore faster than most sport cars go from zero to fifty … she knew it wouldn't have mattered. Funny just how clearly a good orgasm could make you see where the flaws truly lay in previous attempts. And with whom. "Catwoman," she said, decisively. "Or Barbarella."

  He laughed then. "I would definitely enjoy either."

  She should be so lucky. "What about you?" she asked instead.

  "Me?" he asked, obviously surprised.

  "You don't think I'm going to be the only one risking mortification, do you?" As soon as she spoke, she bit her tongue. She sounded like she assumed they'd be doing this again sometime. And though she realized the chances of that were about nil, she wasn't quite ready to hear him put it into words. She spoke quickly, before he could say anything. "I was thinking something suave and debonair."

  "Cary Grant?"

  "Mmm. More like James Bond." She grinned when he snorted. "You definitely left me shaken … and stirred."

  He pinched her bottom lightly, making her squeal even as she laughed. "Quite the cheeky one," he said devilishly.

  "Apparently. Who knew I had such an adventurous soul, hmm?"

  His hand stroked up her back and sunk into her hair, tilting her head as he rolled her to her back and lowered his mouth expertly to hers. Rather than ravenous or playful, his kiss surprised her by being slow, drugging, touching down somewhere so far inside her, she couldn't give it a name.

  "I knew," he said quietly, when he finally pulled his lips from hers.

  At that moment she would have given anything she owned to see his face, see what was in his eyes, because she was very much afraid she was reading far too much into his words, or the oh-so-intent tone threading through them.

  He stroked her face, and she sighed, wondering if it was possible to fall in love with someone in a matter of hours. Of course not, her logical mind interjected. That's the climaxes talking. After a prolonged abstinence, it wasn't surprising she was going emotionally overboard for the first man to take the time to attend to her needs.

  Only she didn't quite buy that either. Dominic, for all his intensity, his focus on business, and his professed inability to connect emotionally, was connecting pretty damn well with her. And with far more than the location of her G spot.

  "What are you thinking?" he asked, skimming his hand down her arm.

  She couldn't dare tell him the truth. She didn't know the whole truth herself. Wasn't ready to dare find out what was real about this interlude they'd shared, and what was fantasy.

  She should just accept the joy of discovery, and be satisfied with that. Now if only she had a clue how to do that.

  He drew her hand up over her head, then wove his fingers through hers. That simple twining, such a natural joining, so intimate in ways joining bodies could never match, unhitched something inside her, and she sighed wistfully without meaning to.

  "Callie—"

  This time she turned to him, taking his mouth with unerring aim, not wanting to hear his next words. Words of appreciation, perhaps, but words of good-bye. Not yet.

  His fingers squeezed hers as they took the kiss deeper. He sunk into her mouth, slowly, surely, and drew her into his the same way, until they were mating with their tongues in the one way they hadn't yet mated with their bodies.

  "I have an almost desperate need for you," he said, his breath warm against the damp skin of her cheek. "It's insanity really."

  "I know," she said, thinking that was exactly what this was. And she was insane for thinking it could ever be more than a fast, hot coupling between two people caught in a place out of time. Where it didn't matter who he was, what he did, what they did together. Once they stepped out of this airless box, back into the real world, this time spent together, what they'd done, would shift to a memory. Replayed endlessly, in her case, she was certain. But a memory was all she'd have to hold on to. Better to understand that right now.

  She shifted next to him, her body twitching with renewed hunger. He pulled her more tightly against him and she gasped at the velvety, rigid feel of him brushing against her. Apparently she wasn't the only one who wasn't finished yet. She'd felt him, tasted him, ran her fingers and tongue down the glorious length of him. And now she had an almost screaming need to feel him in the one place he belonged, and had yet to be.

  No, that was crazy. The one place she wanted to feel him, certainly. But … belonged?

  "Callie," he whispered next to her ear.

  She rolled her head so their lips brushed. "Mmm. I love the way you say my name, so elegant, so—"

  "Desperate," he repeated, his voice somewhere between amused and strained beyond control.

  She laughed and pulled him on top of her as she rolled to her back. "Never let it be said I left a desperate man in need."

  He settled so easily on top of her, she almost swooned at the sweet perfection of it. "As long as that desperate man is me," he murmured, as he settled between her legs.

  Her heart paused for a split second as his words filtered past the pulse drumming in her ears. But her body was already moving to accommodate the insistent nudge, pressing so close … so close.

  "Bloody hell," he swore, shifting away slightly, but enough to make her moan in dismay. "Callie, we can't—I don't have—"

  "Oh," she said, relaxing, tugging him back. "That." She shifted her hips and he slipped easily between her legs again, making her clench tightly in anticipation. It dragged a deep moan out of her when he pushed his hips. "Don't need it," was all she could manage as he began to nudge inside her. She was never so thankful in all her life that she'd continued taking the pill after she'd left Peter. She'd done it to keep her period in check, and she supposed in the blind hope that someday she'd meet someone and would have one less thing to worry about if it turned serious. Never had she thought it might com
e in handy because of hot elevator sex with a gorgeous British magnate.

  The thought made her grin, even as her body strained up against him, searching, wanting, so close to having what it now desperately needed. "I'm—" She gasped as he teased that tiny little part of her that was so enormously sensitized. "On the pill—please—Dominic—for God's sake, just—"

  With a growl that was somewhere between feral and primal, he pushed deep inside her in a single thrust, driving them both across the slick marble floor. His hand was still joined with hers, and even as they bucked, clawed, and pumped wildly against each other, he never let her go. He rolled to his back and pulled her astride him … another first for her.

  She'd always been too self-conscious to display herself so overtly. But there in the complete darkness, she let herself go, moving on him any way her body demanded she move. He met her rhythm, matched it, drove her farther, higher… And their fingers stayed joined as she arched her back, sinking fully down onto him, feeling more in tune with her body, freer, heart and soul, than ever before. So much so, she didn't stop him when he moved their joined fingers to where their bodies joined … letting him guide them both into teasing her into a thrashing, screaming climax, the intensity of which was far beyond anything she thought possible.

  She was still shuddering, convulsing almost, when he rolled her to her back, then slid her hips high as he pushed to his knees and took her with him. Back arched way up, he wrapped his free arm around her waist, tugged her snug down onto him, again and again, as he thrust into her. Small screams pushed past her lips with each thrust, her climax literally vibrating with the steady friction he'd created, paired with grunts and growls as she tightened around him each time. Faster, deeper, with a fury that took her somewhere beyond all thought, into some primal place where she was reduced to her most basic self.

  How long they went on she had no idea, it seemed like an endless mating, that they'd stayed joined like this for all eternity, were maybe meant to. Then it was his turn to shout as the last of his control was ripped away and he went over the edge.

  And when they collapsed into a coiled mass of tangled limbs and sweat-soaked flesh … their fingers remained twined.

  "And here I thought women were the only ones who could be multiorgasmic," she murmured drowsily, unable to wipe the smug smile off her face.

  He only managed to grunt in response, which made her laugh.

  Then he pulled their joined fingers to his mouth, where he dropped a warm kiss on each knuckle, then tucked their hands over his heart.

  Callie's breath left her in a long, shuddery sigh. Oh boy, she was in serious trouble here. But she couldn't manage to make herself worry about it at that particular moment.

  * * *

  She didn't realize she'd drifted to sleep until Dominic kissed her awake. "How long have I—"

  "Shh, we have to get dressed. It's almost six."

  No, her heart screamed. She wasn't ready for it to be over.

  "I imagine if the building crew works till midnight, they come in early as well," he told her.

  She tried to pull away, at least mentally. It would take more strength than she presently had to make herself pull away from him physically. One step at a time, she told herself. Only she couldn't even make the mental step.

  It didn't help when Dominic lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, slowly, so assuredly. Like she was his. Or something.

  She sighed, feeling tears burn behind her eyes, thanking God it was dark so he wouldn't see, would never know. "Thank you," she whispered, unable not to say that much. It sounded lame, inadequate, especially after what they'd shared, but she meant it. More than he could possibly know. Or maybe he did. And that was what made this so damn hard.

  He said nothing, just kissed her again. And even though she knew it would only make it harder on her, she sunk into the kiss, reveled in how well their mouths were mated, how easily they'd learned each others' bodies.

  When he finally pulled away, she wished desperately that she could make some witty comment, something dry and humorous, that would allow her to—

  A sudden clanking noise somewhere below them in the elevator shaft, had her leaping off of him as if scalded.

  "Wait, wait—" Dominic started to say, reaching to keep her from slipping on their clothes.

  "Mr. Colbourne? Ms. Montgomery?"

  Someone was shouting their names.

  "Yes," Dominic called out, smooth and unruffled. "We're in here. Unharmed."

  There were sounds of arguing, some muffled swearing; then the voice returned. "We'll have you out shortly, sir. Ma'am."

  "Well done," Dominic called, sounding every bit as urbane and witty as she'd wished she could be.

  She started casting about for her underwear. Her bra had come off at some point as well. Dominic helped her, and in a silence punctuated only by their breathing, they quickly, if awkwardly, pulled everything back to rights. Callie had no idea what her hair looked like, but she supposed no matter how bad it was, it would be chalked up to a night spent in an airless elevator. Now if she could only manage not to flush hotly the minute the doors opened. It wasn't even that she was worried about herself, her reputation, even her job. But she didn't want to jeopardize anything with Dominic and his deal with Stephanie.

  She groped around for her shoes, then felt Dominic's hand beneath her elbow, helping her to a stand. Her knees were wobbly and he caught her against him.

  "Callie—"

  Just then the lights flickered once, twice, then burned steadily, making them both squint and look away from each other.

  "Hold on in there!" the voice shouted. Dominic shifted his weight into the corner, and when Callie would have groped for her own space on the wall, still blinking furiously against the sudden return of light after so much time spent in complete darkness, Dominic pulled her against him instead.

  She instinctively braced her hands on his chest. "We can't," she whispered.

  The car jerked once, then smoothly began the remainder of its descent as if nothing was wrong.

  "The doors are going to open any second," she said.

  Dominic merely lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, fast, making her sigh before she could catch herself. At the last possible moment, he broke the kiss and stood her away from him, his hands at her elbows until she steadied herself. It was then that their eyes locked on one another for the first time. Ever.

  Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his gaze, the directness. The naked hunger.

  She swallowed convulsively. "Dominic," she managed, but had no idea what she would have said next as the car jerked slightly as it came to a halt on the ground floor.

  He reached out and smoothed her curls from her face, his fingers brushing her cheek, making her entire body vibrate with the same need she saw in his eyes. Then he turned her toward the door and pushed away from the wall, his hand at her elbow, keeping her steady, maybe keeping himself steady as well.

  When the doors slid open, revealing three men in blue work garb, the two morning security guys, and Stephanie, they stood as impersonally as they'd begun, with the exception of his hand still on her elbow. However the gesture probably looked gallant, rather than intimate. It felt both to Callie. He was both things to her. Always would be.

  "Are you okay?" Stephanie asked, looking more frazzled than Callie could ever remember.

  In fact, she'd never seen her boss look anything other than completely put together. But right now her hair was mussed, and she wore no makeup. If Callie hadn't been so worried about her own appearance, she would also have immediately noted that Stephanie was wearing the same thing she'd left the office in last night.

  West coast investor, late night meeting, hmm? Callie thought, barely suppressing a smile. But she could hardly fault her boss for mixing business with pleasure, now could she?

  "Building security paged me the minute they came on duty this morning and realized the power had shut off."

  "It probab
ly went down with a number of others during the storm we had last night," one of the serviceman said. "Generator didn't kick on and it knocked the whole system out of whack."

  There had been a storm last night? Callie worked hard not to shoot a glance toward Dominic. They'd shared their own storm, hadn't they?

  "I buzzed you at home," Stephanie said, pulling Callie's gaze back to her. "And I realized this might have happened. I am so sorry." She turned to Dominic. "Please accept my apologies. We've never experienced any malfunctions before, but—"

  "With new buildings, things such as this are bound to arise," Dominic said easily, guiding Callie out of the elevator.

  Stephanie moved in, placing one hand on Callie's arm, the other on Dominic's, unintentionally forcing his hand to drop away. Callie managed not to sigh. Or cry, for that matter.

  "Are you two okay?" Stephanie asked, sincerely concerned, despite the fact that she must also be nervous about what this might do to her negotiations with Dominic.

  "We're fine," Callie said, as her boss came between them, literally, separating them even farther as she turned to Dominic once again.

  Best to let the distance grow wider and wider, she thought, working hard to shore up her defenses. Before she caved and launched herself into his arms and begged him not to walk away from what they'd begun last night.

  But what had they begun, really? The sex was phenomenal, but surely all the rest, all the deep emotions, the soul connection she felt, was simply a manifestation of their predicament. She was going to be adult about this, mature, just as she'd been after discovering Peter in flagrante delicto with Dog Girl. She hadn't made a scene then, she wasn't about to make one now. Better to just hold the memories close and appreciate what their interlude had shown her, taught her, about herself. That Peter was an idiot when it came to women. And that she'd allowed the insecurities his rejections had spawned to propagate themselves way out of control. Never again. Not after this.

  "I'll call and have our lunch postponed," Stephanie was saying. "Will you be able to stay in town an extra day, or do you want to meet this evening?"

  Stephanie sounded like her typical direct, in-control self, but Callie detected the thread of nervousness beneath her words and found herself holding her breath, waiting for his reply. Except her trepidations weren't because a multimillion dollar deal hung in the balance. Hers were far more private, but every bit as crucial. It took all her willpower not to look at him, connect her gaze to his in any way. It was all she could do to remain standing here at all, pretending like nothing had happened, when her entire world felt like it was eroding beneath her very feet.

 

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