by Lauren Dane
“Game time,” she said, her words as shaky as her breath. With a quick arch of her brows as if to say “C’mon, big boy,” she held up the satin tie again. “Take one last look, because I’m about to win me a bet.”
“Babe, I’m better blindfolded than most men dream of being on their best day,” he told her with a grin. Then, after brushing another quick kiss over her lips and making her sigh, he sat on the bed and gestured for her to go ahead.
She’d write that off to the usual male bravado, but given his performance so far, she could only give a purring sort of hum.
“This is going to be fun,” she said decisively as she stepped between his very naked muscled thighs and leaned closer to wrap the satin around his head. It was long enough to wrap twice, so she did, then tied it into a snug knot.
As soon as she released the satin, he moved. His hands unerringly found her waist, tugging her closer. Gia gasped when his lips clamped on to her nipple through the satin of her nightie. It was as if he had laser vision or a homing device tuned in to her erogenous zones.
Her fingers dug into the thick hardness of his shoulders, reveling in his tightly corded muscles. For a guy who basically talked for a living, he was built.
His tongue was sizzling, swirling over the fabric, leaving a wet layer of heat over her nipple. She groaned in delight as the wet material added another layer of wow to the sensation.
As if he’d already memorized her body, his hands skimmed down her waist, unerringly finding her damp curls. He slid one finger over her swollen bud, flicking the sensitive flesh while dipping the tip of another finger into her hot core.
Gia whimpered as both fingers slid in, just the tips, and swirled around the rim of her channel before dipping deeper. One, then two. In, then out. All the while his thumb rubbed, slow and sweet, over her pulsating bud.
Her fingers dug tighter into his shoulders and she had to bite back an encouraging moan. This was supposed to be a challenge to him. Her telling him to do her harder might negate the experiment.
But it was as if he suddenly read her mind. She jumped a little when his teeth scraped her nipple. His fingers moved faster, his thumb flicking harder now, pressing as his fingers found that magical G-spot. Pressure built, tight and intense.
Gia’s breath came in loud gasps, the rasping air burning her lungs. Her head fell back, her eyes closed.
He bit her nipple, gentle enough to stay in the realm of love-play but hard enough to make her cry out. At the same time, he pinched her nether lips tight.
Gia’s body convulsed.
She was shaking too hard with the orgasm to realize he’d moved her. She was dimly aware of his fingers slipping into her stash of condoms, tucked away in the pocket of her garter belt.
Then she was flying through the air. She opened her eyes just as Luke lay back on the bed, lifting her body over his.
As if he could see through the blindfold, he positioned her perfectly. Gia barely had time to grab on to his chest before he thrust upward, impaling her on his rock-hard dick.
“Ride, baby, ride,” he murmured, his fingers gripping her ass as he moved her in time with his thrusts.
It didn’t take many. Gia’s body, already primed by the sweet climax before, exploded into a million pieces. She felt his follow, heard his groan of delight, but couldn’t bring enough attention together to focus on anything but her own delighted tremors.
Well, then. Gia collapsed, her body one delicious puddle of satisfaction. Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her heart raced, pounding so loud in her head that she could barely hear Luke’s breath under her ear.
But she could feel his body. Hard, and huge, even at rest.
He was incredible. Talk about fantasy material. Clearly, the man could rise to any challenge.
He couldn’t tell where sexual fatigue ended and physical exhaustion took hold. All Luke knew was that he was spent.
He lay flat on his belly, his body draped over the tangled-sheet-covered mattress. Cool air circulated, stirring the hedonistic haze away. Digging deep, he found the energy to shove the fabric off his eyes.
After countless hours, dozens of orgasms and three rounds of lovemaking, his face felt weird without the fabric band. He ran a hand over the back of his hair to make sure he hadn’t lost any in the excitement.
Vanna’d said he needed a challenge. Something to rise to. He’d scoffed, sure he’d quickly prove her wrong. But it’d turned out, it wasn’t just his dick that’d had to rise up.
With a silent groan, Luke forced himself to flip onto his back so the air conditioning could work its magic. He’d never felt so hot. And he’d never worked so hard to pleasure a woman. Not that she was demanding. Even when she was trying to make her point and win the bet, Vanna had the most responsive body he’d ever lost himself in.
But she’d been right. The first round of sex had been great. But blindfolded? Relying on signals she was deliberately trying to hide, second-guessing his usual assumption that he was SuperLover? Luke had never focused so completely on sex. Ever.
And it’d never been better.
She’d made him realize that his ego had grown in size to rival his very impressive erection. His reputation over the past half-dozen years had pretty much ensured that he didn’t have to prove his prowess. Women assumed it was there and were grateful to enjoy it. Vanna had been right about that, too. The challenge of her not taking his attention at face value made the experience more intense. It’d required all his focus. All his skill.
It’d been incredible.
But it wasn’t all challenge and ego.
Luke shifted himself onto one elbow to peer over the pile of pillows intersecting the bed. There, curled in a tight ball, her hair a splash of vivid red against the pristine sheets, Vanna was a vision.
Sex was usually all about gratification.
What they’d done, what they had, that was so much more.
Suddenly freaked at where his thoughts were going, Luke slid from the bed, careful not to move too fast or shake the mattress.
He didn’t want her waking up until he’d got his head together. Until he’d figured out what the hell this crazy feeling was going on inside him.
He strode to the bathroom, waiting until he’d shut the door before turning on the light. Cringing, he slapped one hand over his eyes until they adjusted to the glare. Then he splashed cold water over his face, hoping it’d shock him back to sanity.
He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t a slam-bam kind of guy. But he wasn’t looking for commitments, either. He liked cruising through life, no worries or real concerns to distract from his fun.
So why was he thinking about later? About making sure he got her number. About figuring out a way for them to build on this fun and sex and see what else they could come up with.
Even that’d be okay, he supposed. After all, it was sexually motivated. But wanting to know her last name? Where she lived? Hell, what she’d been like growing up? Those thoughts were heading into scary territory.
He’d never wondered any of that before.
And he’d never cared that he didn’t.
Was this a result of her little bet? That challenge to prove himself? Where were all these weird feelings coming from? As if he knew her, as if they were connected.
He stared at his reflection, noting the confusion etching deep lines in his brow and clouding his eyes. Good. He might as well look as mind-boggled as he felt.
He didn’t know what to do.
All he knew was one thing. He wanted Vanna.
Not just for another round of wild sex.
Not just for the weekend.
He wanted her in his life.
Now he just had to decide if he was going to act on that want or talk himself out of it.
One second she was fast asleep. The next she was floating on a sea of passion.
Not the rough and wild maelstrom of sexual intensity that she’d been frolicking in all weekend.
This, she sighe
d, was sweeter.
Gentle.
A whisper of a kiss over the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. A brush of a finger along her still-swollen nether lips. A teasing swirl of a tongue in her belly button.
Her own moan of delight pulled her out of the foggy sleep. Was this a dream? It felt like one.
Her eyes flew open as teeth scraped her breast. Then, as she scrambled to put the pieces together and remember she was living her fantasy, Luke drew her nipple into his mouth to suckle.
Her fingers tunneled into his hair, sliding through the heavy silk and holding his head close as she wrapped her calf around his and anchored herself to his thigh.
The hair was rough, scraping the soft flesh of hers. His muscles were hard as she pressed tight against him, undulating a slow dance that teased her swollen lips,
It was like riding on a wave. Rolling wet heat carried her soft and light into a cloud of sweet, gentle sensations.
It was so good.
So, so good.
Gia whimpered.
Luke reached between their bodies, his fingers finding that sweet spot he knew she loved.
Her body exploded in a flash.
Bright, intense, mind-blowing.
The orgasm ripped through her, quickly followed by another.
And then another.
A girl didn’t grow up in California without appreciating the power of aftershocks.
Especially when they came with a very sexy body above hers, driving each one home with a powerful thrust. Then his body tensed. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, her feet digging into his hips as she pressed herself as hard against him as possible.
His breathing harsh and guttural, he thrust again.
Paused.
Then plunged one more time.
Gia undulated her hips, twisting just a little from one side to the other.
He exploded with a guttural shout.
And she came again, waves of passion pounding over her one after the other. And just kept on coming.
She should have been shocked at the record number of climaxes during a single bout of lovemaking. But other than the stars exploding against her closed eyes, Gia couldn’t focus.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t do anything except feel.
And she felt incredible.
It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. Gia had no idea how long she laid comatose.
She could hear the sound of Luke’s breathing, deep and low with exhaustion, over the hum of the air conditioner.
Woot. Go her. She’d worn him out.
She’d give a fist pump, but her body was a puddle. She settled on a mental woo-hoo.
Using every ounce of energy she had left, she turned her head and forced her eyelids open to squint at the clock. The neon green numbers glowed in the pitch-black room. Five in the morning.
Sunday? Or Monday?
How many hours had it been since he’d approached her in the bar? How many times had they made love? How many orgasms had she racked up? More this weekend than the rest of her life put together, she’d bet.
Bet.
Gia gave a silent giggle.
This betting thing was working out pretty darned well. Vegas rocked.
Her gaze softened, a gentle sigh escaping as she trailed her fingers over the sculpted perfection of his biceps.
He was so sweet.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted the dishes piled on a cart by the door. Sometime after midnight they’d shared a meal. Keeping the challenge fresh, she’d insisted he wear his blindfold and let her feed him.
Who knew having a man eat out of the palm of her hand could be so erotic?
Tingling desire worked its way over her body at the memory. Of the meal. The laughter. The fun.
Closing her eyes, she cuddled the pillow close and gave a deep sigh of pure delight. This fantasy was so much more than she’d ever dreamed it could be.
They’d talked for hours.
Not as many hours as they’d spent exploring each other’s bodies. But still, there had been a lot of talking. Joking and sharing. Teasing and whispering. She’d been careful to keep any clues to her real identity out of the conversation, yet it’d still been the most honest, intimate interaction she’d ever had.
They’d shared stories of their childhoods. Compared the pressures of being the only-child golden son with being the middle daughter. They’d told each other their biggest fears. They’d been as naked emotionally as they’d been physically.
Even when she’d slipped out of her Vanna role, sharing truths about her own life, Luke hadn’t thought she was just average. If his interest, his response, were anything to go by, he’d found her amazing.
She’d shared so much with him.
And he still wanted to be with her.
Gia’s eyes flew open.
Holy shit.
He’d talked about next time.
When she’d let it slip that she lived in Northern California, he’d mentioned a weekend together, said he wanted to take her to his favorite restaurant.
He wanted to see her after this weekend.
Panic grabbed ahold of her throat, making it hard to breathe.
Like Cinderella, Gia’s fantasy had a very definite expiration date. And just as the fairy-tale princess had been too ashamed and horrified to have her hottie prince see the real her, Gia wasn’t about to let Luke catch on to who he’d spent the weekend with.
Her stomach tensed against the pain as she imagined the look on his face if he ran into her in the hallway at Tri-Solutions. He’d be horrified when he realized that his weekend fling had used insider information—knowledge gained from watercooler gossip and a slightly obsessive crush—to play her way into his bed.
But as hard as it was to imagine him discovering the truth, it was worse to entertain the very real probability that he’d simply look right through her. Sure, he’d said something about seeing each other later. But he only knew the fantasy her.
Once he knew who she was, once he’d seen her in her natural habitat, she was sure he’d write off the most incredible weekend of her life as just another couple days in Vegas.
A million reasons justified the panic surging through her, but Gia still managed to refrain from leaping off the bed and running naked out of the hotel.
For one thing, her plane ticket and cash were downstairs in the safe. And the minute she let her feet hit running speed, she was sure a scream of terror would follow.
That’d probably wake Luke.
And she wasn’t ready to face him.
Not now.
Not ever.
She’d had the fantasy.
It’d been everything she’d dreamed of.
The best sex of her life.
A story to rival anything her friends told her about their sexual escapades.
She’d never wonder if she was average in bed or could only satisfy an average guy. She’d just had the best and he was spent. She was surprised his dick didn’t have friction burns.
She’d had the fantasy.
Now she had to hurry up and get out of here.
Because she could never, ever have the reality.
Chapter Six
Girlz Guide Words of Wisdom…
When you’re off track, your BFFs got your back.
“Seriously? You just grabbed your panties and snuck out?”
“I took more than my panties. What, you think I flew home from Sin City wearing just my high heels and La Perla?” Gia rolled her eyes at Caryn.
She couldn’t hold her friend’s look for long, though. Because while she hadn’t literally scurried out in her undies, it’d been damned close. So close she’d still been zipping up her skirt in the elevator.
But luckily the escape mojo had been working for her, from the checkout clerk’s easy acceptance of an extra fifty to take her room payment in cash and delete her credit card and contact information from the computer system, to the ease with which she’d been a
ble to call from the cab and switch to an earlier flight.
By the time she’d come to her senses and realized she’d run like a big weenie and screwed herself out of another day of fabulous loving, the flight attendant had been handing out health-conscious alternatives to peanuts.
She’d called her friends from the plane, stopping at home only long enough to dump her suitcases, shower and change into normal clothes before hurrying to her favorite cantina for some girlfriend therapy. And she’d alternated between freaked out and miserable the entire time. But what’d she expect?
“Here, this’ll help,” Sara said, topping off Gia’s drink and pushing it toward her.
They were having margaritas tonight in honor of her call for Mexican food. Nothing blunted self-induced misery like tequila and cheesy guacamole-smothered tortilla chips.
“Why’d you run? Were you hoping he’d run after you, like Cinderella and the prince?” Jessa dismissed Sara and Caryn’s eye rolls with a toss of her head. “I’m just saying, that’s why I’d run. To see if the guy would follow.”
“Since he has no idea who Gia really is, following would take a lot more than a fairy wand,” Caryn pointed out before popping a loaded chip into her mouth.
“Maybe the sex wasn’t that good,” Sara said in a faux whisper.
“The sex was incredible.” Remembering just how incredible, Gia sucked down half her margarita, welcoming the distracting brain freeze.
“Did he figure out who you were?” Caryn exclaimed, her expression as horrified as Gia had imagined Luke’s would be if he found out.
Lovely.
“He doesn’t know who I am.” Her words were as flat as her shoulders were heavy. God forbid he connect the wild and sexy Vanna with the boring, average Gia. Talk about ruining a perfectly awesome fantasy.
She didn’t need to look up to see her friends exchanging glances of varying degrees of puzzlement, irritation and impatience.
“So what went so wrong that you had to sneak out, with or without more than your panties, and come home to drown yourself in cheese?” Caryn prompted.
She didn’t know.
For the first time in her life, Gia wondered if she should have stayed home and nursed her grief in private instead of working through it with her posse. She’d always been so excited to be one of the Girlz. Had figured it was proof that she was special. But now she just wanted to be alone. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want them to band together to figure things out. And that upset her almost as much as the lousy rain cloud of misery hanging over her head.
