by Leslie Kelly
He nodded slowly. “I can understand that. And yes, I’m here on business, and I won’t be in town for too long.”
“Perfect.”
“And, for what it’s worth, I don’t do the love-and-relationship thing anyway. I don’t have the right genes for it.”
Fine by her. “So we’re good?”
He held up a hand, palm out. “Just to make sure I’ve got this straight, you want me to fuck your brains out tonight, make you come in a dozen different ways, bring you breakfast in the morning and then go away?”
Wow. She swallowed hard, noting that he could give as good as he got. His words scooped out her insides and replaced them with boiling lava. Just the idea of the kind of night he promised made it hard for her to think.
So she didn’t. She merely agreed. Finding her voice, she said, “Yeah. Pretty much.”
A brief hesitation, and then he nodded. “All right.”
Her heart leaped. Though she’d known he desired her, she was glad he hadn’t been turned off by a woman who was so nongirlie about sex. Some men couldn’t handle women who were blunt about what they wanted—and what they didn’t want—and felt as if their masculinity was threatened, or something.
She suspected that had been partly why she and Dale hadn’t worked out, though he’d used any number of other excuses when he’d dumped her. And she also imagined it also explained the ridiculous bet among her former coworkers.
Fortunately, Damien was an unusually confident man. He would never be threatened by a strong woman who was unafraid to admit what she was really thinking. He’d be challenged by her.
It was almost too bad they would only have one night. She suspected they were pretty spectacularly matched.
She quickly squelched the thought, because she’d set out the parameters and he’d agreed to them. They were both out for a one-night stand, and no possible future. She couldn’t change her mind—or try to change his—ninety seconds later.
Licking her lips, she murmured, “So, a dozen different ways, huh?”
He gave her a confident smile.
Viv did a quick mental calculation, and could only come up with seven ways previous lovers had brought her to orgasm. Adding in what she could do with her own fingers, a sex toy or a handheld showerhead brought her to ten.
A dozen would be very interesting indeed.
Just picturing a few of them made all that lava boil over inside her, dripping down to her sex. She was swollen and sensitive, so wet she might leave a stain on her damn skirt.
Imagine...ninety minutes ago, she’d been at one of the lowest points of her adult life. Now, well, as the saying went, things certainly could turn on a dime. Or on a broken-down car.
“Maybe thirteen,” he said, as if suddenly remembering something. Something wicked. But oh so good.
“I could live with that,” she mumbled, halfway to her first climax without a single touch from the man.
Before she could say another word, however, his cell phone beeped, indicating a message. He glanced at the screen and said, “It’s Jed. He’s had a chance to check out the car.”
If anything could cool off her rapidly burning self, it was that. She reached for her glass and sipped her drink. She could not afford any pricey car repairs. Part of her wished somebody had just stolen the thing before the mechanic had gotten there, but she knew it wasn’t much of a temptation. Compared to most of the cars in this upscale Arlington neighborhood, hers was a top-of-the-line piece of crap. Nobody would want it.
“All fixed,” he said, reading from the screen.
Her mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
“Dead battery, that was all.”
“Finally something goes my way.”
“You mean things weren’t going your way?” His tone was silky; his eyes gleamed. “And here I thought your day had improved tremendously.”
She licked her lips. “I’ll clarify—things are continuing to go my way.”
“As they should.”
“Spoken like someone who’s used to things always going his way.”
“Not always,” he admitted.
“Ninety percent of the time?” she asked, teasing him.
He shrugged, not smiling in response. “I didn’t get where I am because of luck.”
“Are you a workaholic?”
“Would I have blown off a business meeting to spend the afternoon with you if I were?”
“Thought you didn’t have a meeting.”
“I didn’t, not officially. Sometimes I pop in on my staff by surprise.”
“Your staff.” She stiffened, recognizing the implications. “You run a business that has offices in this part of Arlington?”
Another shrug. “Just a start-up, and it’s not entirely mine. There are other investors. I’m not even sure if it’s going to last a year. It could all blow up in my face.”
Just a start-up. In this zip code.
Viv found herself wondering if she’d gotten in over her head. Judging by his clothes and his self-confidence, she’d already pegged the guy as wealthy and successful. She hadn’t, however, banked on him being a one-percenter. She’d had experience with a few überwealthy men. They were usually spoiled, and could be petulant when they didn’t get what they wanted.
Of course, Damien was going to get what he wanted, as was she. And considering he wasn’t an arrogant jerk, she suspected he was only moderately well-to-do, which suited her just fine.
He glanced at his gold watch. God, his hands were strong, yet elegant. Every inch of him was a mix of masculinity and grace. Again she found herself comparing him to the other men she’d interacted with recently, and found them all lacking.
She wanted him. Badly. And she didn’t want to wait any longer to have him. Those dozen—or thirteen—orgasms were practically screaming for her to hurry things along.
“It’s after five. Early dinner, or more drinks?” he said, his tone silky, as if he could read her mind.
“I don’t want my senses dulled the least little bit tonight,” she said, the words almost purred. “So let’s skip the next round.”
She noted with satisfaction that his hand shook the tiniest bit. He might be Mr. Calm, Smooth and Seductive, but he was definitely affected by her. God, it was good to feel the surge of feminine power that pushed up through her. It had been too long since she’d allowed herself to play this sexual game. She’d once played it very well, and was glad to know she hadn’t completely lost her touch.
Dropping a few large bills on the table, Damien rose from his seat and walked around to pull her chair out. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. They were both caught up in the excitement of what was about to happen.
Viv had had a few one-night stands over the years, but none had ever excited her like this. Knowing she would never see him again after tomorrow had forced away all her inhibitions—what few there were. There was a special kind of freedom in realizing she could do, have, take or give anything she wanted from the sexiest man she’d ever met. There would be no embarrassing run-ins in days to come, no wondering if he’d call, no stressing over whether he’d thought she was good. Nothing but wonderful memories of a night she was already sure she would never forget.
It was the perfect treat she could give herself as consolation for her lousy day, week, month, summer and year.
Not that anybody would ever complain about having Damien Black for a consolation prize.
As they exited the bar, he put his hand low on her spine again and she shivered. Her jacket was slung over her arm now, and only her silky, thin blouse separated her skin from his. Her nerve endings sizzled and sparked at the faint brush of his fingertips on her body, and she almost arched her back, wanting to invite him to keep exploring downward. His big, strong hand would cup her rear end perfectly.
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“The hotel restaurant is great, but the room service menu is pretty extensive, too,” he murmured, his voice sounding a bit strained, as if he’d be disappointed if she said she wanted to eat in the restaurant.
She hadn’t even considered that. “How’s the room service breakfast menu?”
“Also extensive.”
“Then we don’t have to leave your room for a good fifteen hours, do we?” she said, certain it would be ages before they got around to eating anything resembling food.
His hand dipped the tiniest bit lower, and his laugh was low and sultry.
Crossing the foyer, Damien offered a short nod to a staff member who hailed him. Beelining for the elevators, he cast one hard glance over his shoulder, and the staff member backed off. When a ding signaled the car’s arrival and the door slid open, she noted the interior was empty. Viv breathed a sigh of relief that no one was waiting to board it with them.
They entered together, in lockstep. The moment the door swished closed, he moved close...close enough that his breath fell upon her cheek. Holding her jaw, he tilted her face up and bent to brush his lips against hers.
Sparks erupted at that faint connection, and she quivered, melting against his body, drawn to him as metal was drawn to a magnet.
“Protection?” he asked, his voice low. He seemed the type who preferred to get business out of the way up front, and she appreciated that about him, too.
“I’m on the Pill,” she replied. “And I have no communicable diseases. I had to get a physical for my job, and I haven’t been with anyone in forever.”
He stiffened and stepped away. “Forever?”
Laughter burst from her lips as she realized he’d momentarily thought she meant she was a virgin. Good lord, after the conversation they’d just shared?
“Five months is kind of forever for me. I haven’t gone that long without sex since I lost my virginity to Ollie Winpigler in the computer lab in eleventh grade.”
His tension eased. “Ollie?” His frown deepening, he added, “In the computer lab?”
“He was a nice guy—a total computer geek, not at all athletic, which was why I chose him. He flew under my brothers’ radar. Any of the jocks who tried to get with me found themselves up against the Callahan defensive line and none of them could make an end run around it.”
Huh. Maybe that was why she preferred smart, sexy guys to beefy jocks. And maybe that deep-down disinterest had communicated itself to her coworkers in recent weeks. She didn’t think she’d done or said anything to throw down a gauntlet, to make them compete for her. Was it possible they were competing because they sensed her innate disinterest in their type? It bore considering.
Or maybe not. They were horny, spoiled jerks, and she was an attractive, available woman. End of story.
He cleared his throat. “Should I be worried about these brothers of yours? They’re not going to burst into my room and try to sack me from the ten yard line tonight, are they?”
She appreciated that he’d continued her play with words. He was clever, as well as smart. “Well, we’re all close, but they do live hundreds of miles away. I don’t see them nearly often enough. I haven’t been home since Christmas, though I am going next month to my parents’ anniversary party.”
“So nobody’s nearby to defend your virtue?”
“Nope, you have me completely at your mercy.” She stepped closer, putting her hands on that hard chest, toying with the buttons of his crisp, white shirt. “As to your original question...I’m protected and healthy. So if you’re clean, too, bareback is fine with me.”
Although a pleased smile widened those masculine lips, he also groaned, as if he’d suddenly imagined plunging into her, all heated strength to wet sheath. No barriers, nothing but hot, slick pleasure.
“Thank God I’m not a teenager and I don’t go around with a rubber in my pocket. And, uh, I can say the same. I haven’t been very active lately, either.”
Curious, she watched him, wondering if he’d explain.
All he said was “It’s complicated.”
“As long as you’re not cheating on somebody else with me, complicated is fine,” she said, presenting him with her one unbreakable rule. She’d noticed he wore no ring, so she wasn’t truly worried.
Some women might believe she had no boundaries, but she’d borne witness to what one of her brothers’ affairs had done to his marriage and family. Seeing the devastation the big, dumb idiot and his trashy girlfriend had wrought on her sister-in-law, nieces and nephew, she’d erected a big No Trespassing sign in her head when it came to attached men. Viv abided by it, always. She might flirt indiscriminately, but when it came to men in relationships with other women, she was strictly hands-off.
“I’m definitely not a cheater. I just don’t do relationships. I’m not cut out for them.”
She slipped one button of his shirt free, licking her lips. “Then it’s all good.”
“It most certainly will be. God, I can’t wait to get inside you,” he said, grabbing her hips, his fingers digging in to her curves. Holding tight, he pulled her hard against him so she could feel the ridge contained behind his zipper.
A big ridge. An overstressed zipper.
A whimper escaped her mouth, but he took it from her lips, kissing her again—deeply, hungrily. He plunged his tongue against hers, exploring her, tasting her, ravishing her.
Twining her arms around his neck, she let him take her places with that kiss, loving the feel of him pressed against her. Every inch of him was hard, which so appealed to every inch of her softness that she moaned out of sheer helpless need.
His tongue continued to dance with hers, hard and then light, teasing a response out of her. She was responding as she never had to anyone, craving his kiss, his strength, his body. She loved everything about it, from the silkiness of his tongue, to the warmth of his breaths, to the taste of mint and lime and gin on his lips.
Pushing her into the rear corner of the elevator, he began to pull at her bunched skirt. Viv lifted a leg and twined it around his, arching against him, almost crying in anticipation of being filled by that powerful cock pressed against her sex. She was wet, steamy hot and separated from what she wanted by only a few layers of clothes. It was exquisite torture, for him as well as her.
Hearing his groan as he, too, bemoaned the barriers, she chuckled throatily.
“Witch,” he grumbled. “Better be careful or I won’t wait until we get to my suite.”
“Who told you to wait?” she purred, her mood edgy, dangerous and wild. The elevator could stop at any floor before reaching the top one, where he said his suite was located. But she honestly didn’t care. She’d never taken that kind of risk in public...but he made it sound worthwhile.
“Very well, then. I won’t,” he said, a dangerous smile widening his mouth and making those dark eyes gleam.
Called on her dare, Viv sucked in a surprised breath, wondering just how far he intended to go.
It turned out, he went too far for her liking—all the way to the front of the elevator car. Hmm.
Glancing over his shoulder at her, a self-satisfied expression on his face, he pushed the emergency-stop button on the control panel.
Viv gaped, hearing an alarm go off somewhere in the elevator tower. Damien wagged his brows, appearing utterly mischievous. There was nothing boyish about the man, he was all adult male, yet that expression said he’d probably been a holy terror as a kid.
God, she liked holy terrors.
A voice emerged from a speaker set below the panel. “This is security, what’s happening?”
Damien pulled open a small box that contained a phone, obviously for emergencies only. He lifted it and spoke into the handset. “This is Damien Black, from the penthouse suite.”
Penthouse? Nice! No wonder he’d
suggested room service—if she was staying in the penthouse of a place as ritzy as this, she’d never leave.
But you are leaving in the morning, she reminded herself.
Right. This was a one-night stand so she could get back in the saddle and get over being fired. She couldn’t get emotionally involved with anyone until she got her life straightened out. And even then, it wouldn’t be with a gorgeous rich guy who probably picked up women in cities all over the world. One who didn’t “do” relationships.
She could take being his DC-area pickup...as long as she remained emotionally disengaged and never looked beyond tonight. It was when she expected or hoped for more that she got bitten in the ass. While she wouldn’t mind this guy nibbling on her posterior, she didn’t want to be left with any real, lingering scars.
“Yes, we’re fine, thank you.”
She couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, now taking place only through the emergency phone, and could only imagine the security guy was asking why they’d stopped the elevator. Part of her wished Damien hadn’t bothered; they would have probably reached the top floor by now if he hadn’t pushed that button. Another part loved that he’d pushed it because he hadn’t wanted to wait one more minute to have her.
“There’s no real problem, I just wanted to test the alarm and the emergency procedures.”
The person on the other end of the call spoke more loudly, but Damien, staring at her, barely paid attention. Viv sensed a naughty opportunity to twist the screws even tighter. Reaching up, she slowly slid free the next button on her blouse to reveal the curves of her breasts, covered by a pretty, lacy bra. She had nice breasts, not huge, but high and firm. More than one man had gotten a little stupid over them.
His only reaction was a slight tightening of his grip on the phone handle.
“Give your supervisor my name and then put him on the phone,” he finally said with a heavy sigh, as if he’d grown tired of hearing the other man’s arguments.
