And his bed. His big, soft bed.
She ran her hands over her breasts. They were heavy and tight and she knew what’d make them feel better. Some things had changed in a month and one of those things—the only relevant one at the moment, it seemed—was the fact that she wanted him again. Still. A month of pretending she had no interest in Pete was just that—pretending.
Better, he still wanted her. A man didn’t casually mention sex if he weren’t ready, willing and able to deliver the goods.
A knock on the bathroom door startled her so hard that she almost slipped. “Yes?”
“Got to get something. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Oh. Okay.” She heard the room door open and then realized—he might be leaving. “Pete?” she yelled in a panic because if he decided to be all noble, she’d kill him for leaving her aching for his touch.
“Yeah?” his voice came right back to the bathroom door.
“You’re coming back, right?”
There was a pause that was long. Too long. Damn that man, he was torturing her, wasn’t he? He’d brought up the possibility of sex and thrown in that gentle kiss and now he was going to leave her high and dry and—
“Do you want me to?” Even through the door and over the sound of the shower running, his voice resonated through her body.
Everything about her tightened and she came pitifully close to climbing out of the shower and dragging him onto the bed. “Yes.” She swallowed, her hand gripping the shower curtain. “Please.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few.”
As lines went, it wasn’t the most romantic thing she’d ever heard. But there was no denying the relief that coursed through her as the door shut. Hopefully, he’d remembered to grab a key.
He was coming back. For her.
She wanted him. It was that simple. She wanted him, and she could have him. Was that a problem? After all, they’d been able to do this before—engage in certain liberties and then go on as if nothing had happened. What’s to say they couldn’t do that again?
Just for one night. They’d overlook the sound business practice of keeping business and personal separate and whatever happened...happened.
If she were really lucky, whatever would happen several times. But only this once and then things would go back to the way they’d been before.
She dropped her head into her hands. This wasn’t the sort of thing that people could pretend had never happened. This would change everything between her and Pete. And yet, she was going to let that man love on her and hold her all night long because...
No. She didn’t need him. Absolutely not. But she needed something and he was here.
Oh, she was in trouble, wasn’t she?
Her mind made up, she took her time shaving her legs and moisturizing. Because it made her feel better, not because she was primping for a man. Or even one specific man.
She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when the door clicked open and Pete said, “It’s me.”
A thrill shot through her. He’d kept his word. “I’m almost done.”
“Honey,” he said through the door, his voice warm and rich, “I’d wait all night for you.”
Her breasts tightened almost to the point of pain and heat flooded her center. “Would you really?”
“Yup. But, Chloe?”
She forced herself to breath. The woman looking back at her in the steamy mirror was nude and aroused and cupping her own breasts. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more. “Yes?” It came out needy.
He could tell—she heard it in his voice when he said, “Don’t make me wait forever.”
She was absolutely not going to open this door and throw herself at him. Nope. She might desperately want everything he was offering, but she wasn’t about to come off as desperate. A girl still had her pride.
He could just keep waiting, even if only for another five minutes. She forced herself to go slow as she slid her nightgown over her head. It wasn’t a peek-a-boo lace teddy or anything. She liked to sleep in a dove gray silk slip that came to almost her knees. But when she looked in the mirror, she could see the hard points of her nipples and, really, what more did a girl need when it came to seduction?
She twisted her damp hair into a messy high bun so it would dry with curls in it and then, taking a deep breath, she walked out into the room.
And stumbled to a stop at the sight of Pete in a white T-shirt, his buckle undone and the top two buttons on his fly hanging open. He wasn’t naked, not even close. But dear God, he was a wonder to behold. Had she ever properly appreciated his biceps? Or his forearms? The muscles bulged as he worked a cork loose from a bottle of wine. Her gaze dropped to those open buttons and the faint outline of a bulge still hidden that promised amazing things.
He popped the cork and looked up. His jaw fell open and he almost dropped the bottle. The cork was a lost cause. “My God, Chloe,” he murmured with what sounded like awe. “Look at you.”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her nipples got even harder. She positively ached for his touch. But again, she didn’t fling herself at him. Instead, she skimmed her hands over the cool silk of her nightie. His eyes almost bulged out of his head.
This was good. She’d had a hot shower and time to calm down and she wasn’t some delicate flower. She was his equal, by God, and she was going to make him sweat. Was he even breathing? When he lifted his gaze to her face, he seemed dazed. She nodded toward the bottle—not his bulge, which looked like it was actively growing. “Is that for me?”
He seemed startled to realize he was holding an open bottle. “Oh. The wine. Yes, and some chocolate,” he added. “And ice cream. Vanilla’s okay?”
Sweet merciful heavens, this man. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had brought her chocolate, much less wine and ice cream. How was she supposed to be all cool and seductive when she was so stupidly grateful he was here?
Chloe had put a hand over her chest to try to keep her heart from beating so hard he’d be able to see it.
“Where did you get all of this?”
He stood, grinning. She felt a little dazed, too. “I have my ways.” He grabbed another glass from next to another ice bucket—which was full of ice—and poured her some white wine.
“I can’t remember the last time I had someone do something this nice for me.” She wasn’t including Renee in that, though. Girlfriends operated at a different level than men she was sleeping with. And right now, Pete was blowing every other man she’d ever known out of the water.
He handed her the glass of wine. When Chloe took it, she let her fingers skim over his. His breath caught in his throat, but he held her gaze and said, “That’s a damned shame. You deserve nice things, Chloe.”
She looked up at him. “What if...” She swallowed. They’d already had almost-sex. He’d already offered even more sex. Why did she suddenly feel so shy? “What if I want more than nice?”
He was suddenly in front of her, the heat radiating off his chest, warming her through her silk slip. She tensed when he lifted a hand but instead of pulling her into his arms, he wrapped one curl around his finger. He whispered, “You deserve every good thing, babe,” then he kissed that little curl, his chest coming flush with hers. “And I want to give it to you. Anything you want, it’s yours.”
This time, she did melt into him, as best she could while holding a glass of wine. Her arm went around his waist, bringing her chest flush with his and, as her nipples slid against the warming silk, they went rock-hard.
Pete released her wayward curl and brushed his lips over her ear. “Did you decide?” His breath caressed her skin and then his teeth tugged on her earlobe.
“Did you really get me wine and chocolate?” It was a stupid question because of course he had. Those things hadn’t materialized out of thin air. But he’d gone out of his way and
done something wonderfully sweet. For her.
He was the most dangerous man she’d ever known.
“Darlin’,” he said, his voice pure Texas drawl as his lips skimmed over her jaw, “I’m starting to think that there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”
Oh. Oh, my. “Option three,” she breathed. “Please.”
She didn’t know if she kissed him or if he kissed her or if it even mattered. Pete was here, for her.
“Just for the night,” she murmured as he took the glass of wine from her hands and pivoted to set it on the table, turning her at the same time. Her back hit the wall and then he was pressing against her.
“Well,” he chuckled, running one hand down her thigh and lifting her leg so it wrapped around his waist, “maybe the morning, too.”
She gasped as his erection bumped against her sex. “God, yes,” she managed to get out, but then Pete was kissing her, devouring her and she gave herself over to him.
What she needed was this man, hot and hard against her. He nipped at her lower lip as his hips rocked into her and she couldn’t fight back the moan.
“Could I make you come, just like this?” he growled against the skin of her neck, thrusting against her. He had one hand holding up her leg, the other braced against the wall by her head. Her arms around his neck, she hung on for the ride.
Chloe whimpered. It wasn’t dignified or logical, but this man had the ability to reduce her to panting desperation in a matter of seconds. Standing up, even! And not for the first time. How good would he be in an actual bed?
He rocked against her and she bit down on his neck, which made him groan. “I think you’re going to come for me,” he said, but his voice was rough and she knew he felt it, too—this connection between them, however tenuous it was. “Then I’m going to lay you out on that bed and make love to you until you come again.”
She shuddered at the words, the tension coiling inside her becoming sharper, almost painful. How did he do this to her?
But he did. Easily. The hand under her leg pushed the hem of the slip up. Not that the silk was a great barrier between their bodies but when he lifted it out of the way, she gasped as she came into contact with the stiff denim of his jeans.
“So beautiful,” he got out in a strained whisper, his forehead resting on hers. Her eyes flew open and what she saw reflected in his gaze made her gasp again.
Please let this be real. She didn’t think that on purpose, but there it was. She wanted whatever this was with Pete to be real.
That feeling only got stronger when he repeated, “God, Chloe. So damned beautiful.” But this time, he pulled his other hand away from the wall and covered her breast with it, pulling the silk tight over her nipple. Then he kissed her as he squeezed.
And Chloe came for him, moaning loudly as the tension in her body snapped back. He sucked down the noise and didn’t stop thrusting against her, not even when her legs began to shake. Everything began to shake, and she knew she was in danger of falling. She pulled away from his mouth and said, “I can’t stand.”
And that man had the damned nerve to wink at her. And pivot his hips so his erection ground against her. “That,” he said, sounding way too pleased with himself, “was the plan.”
She liked a confident partner, she really did. But this was beyond confident. This was Pete like she knew him—cocky. Convinced he knew best. And okay, maybe he did. But he wasn’t in charge here.
She was. And it was high time he remembered that.
She pushed at his chest, but that barely moved him, so she used the wall for leverage. “You forgot something,” she said, managing to keep her balance as he stumbled back and dropped her leg.
“What?” But he didn’t look worried or even mildly concerned. Instead, he had that teasing smile tucked into the corners of his lips.
She took a deep breath, making sure her knees were going to hold before she stepped toward him. “You work underneath me.”
The man licked his lips and then Chloe was pulling his shirt over his head and shoving his jeans and shorts down. Then she pushed him, and he fell back onto the bed with a muffled whump. And he grinned at her the whole time, like he’d just found the golden ticket.
She stared at his body, hoping her mouth was shut. Good lord, the man was built. His chest was broad and muscled without being fastidiously ripped. A working man’s muscles, ones he’d earned the hard way. But that wasn’t the part that caught her attention. Oh, no. She couldn’t look away from his erection, hard and long and curved ever-so-slightly to the right. He was big without being huge and he hadn’t manscaped. She liked that hair on him, liked the calluses on his hands. She liked him rough around the edges but most of all, she liked him underneath her.
As she looked her fill, he twisted until he was able to reach his back pocket, where he grabbed a small box of condoms. “Yes?” he asked, tossing them on the bed.
She shot him a look. “You were counting on option three, weren’t you?”
He didn’t even have the decency to blush. “Been waiting for this moment for a month, hon.” He kicked the rest of the way out of his jeans and propped himself up on his elbows, his legs draped over the edge of the bed. “Ever since Missouri, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind, so you’re damned right I’d want to be prepared. I want to see you this time.”
She mounted up and straddled him, smacking his hands away when he tried to lift her slip over her head. “Hey,” he protested but then she settled on him, his thick erection rubbing against her sex.
“I’m the boss,” she told him when he reached for the slip again. This time, she grabbed his hands and held them tight, using his arms to help her stay balanced. Instead of fighting her, he laced his fingers with hers and another part of her melted. She was still shaky, her pulse still pounding through her sex as the last of the climax worked through her. Without layers of fabric between them, she could feel the heat of his body against hers, the pulse of his erection as she slid back and forth. “Pete,” she started but then stopped because she wasn’t sure what she was going to say next.
As she moved over him, his head fell back and he began to pant. “You’re killing me, Lawrence,” he moaned, his body quaking under hers.
“Just returning the favor.” But even as she said it, that tension began to coil within her body again. For a month, they’d both been dreaming of this moment. Every time she caught him watching her from the top of the chutes, this was the heat that flashed down her body. All roads led here. It’d been pointless to fight it, she realized. This time was theirs.
This time, she wanted him inside her.
So she scooted back and reached for the condoms. Now it was Pete who batted her hands away and got the packet open. “I could have done that,” she scolded as he quickly rolled the condom on.
“And let you keep torturing me?” He tried to give her another cocky grin, but that was when Chloe peeled the slip off.
And held her breath. Pete sucked in air as he stared. She arched her back to put her perfectly average breasts in the best light. After her second boyfriend had taken one look at her bare breasts and said in a pitying tone, “they’re not that bad,” she’d made a concerted effort to master all the tricks to make them look their best. Arch the back, suck in the stomach, try not to lie flat on her back lest her poor breasts all but disappear.
So she braced herself because she was naked in bed with Pete Wellington and he could be the man of her dreams and he could still also cut her to shreds if he wanted to.
Did he want to?
He sat up and stroked his fingers over the tops of her breasts, over her nipples. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the tip of her left breast. “Perfect,” he murmured against her skin and then he sucked her whole nipple into his mouth.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, clutching his head as his teeth skimmed over her delicate
skin. The pull of his mouth drew an answering pull from deep inside her. His sheathed erection continued to rub against her from below and it was just that damned easy for him to take her breath away.
There was no negotiation about how it was his turn, how he needed to let go, how he couldn’t wait another second. He didn’t push or rush or demand. Instead, he just sucked at her sensitive skin and let her body bear down on his as he took his sweet time.
This was what it meant to let a man love on her. To let a man take care of her. She’d had plenty of boyfriends and lovers but she’d never had a man who put her first like this. For heaven’s sake, she was already naked and he had on the condom!
But instead of lifting her bottom and thrusting into her, he just kissed his way to her other breast and began to torment that nipple, too.
She stared down at him as he lavished her with attention, her fingers twined in his thick hair. It almost didn’t feel real, this moment with him. But if it was a dream, she didn’t want to wake up.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him inside of her. “Lie back.” She didn’t have to tell him twice.
Chloe scooted forward, raising her bottom in the air as she kissed him. His erection sprang up against her and, because she was absolutely not done torturing him, she let herself sink back onto him—slowly. Years of gripping a saddle with her thighs while she rode around arenas gave her the strength to move so slowly that Pete began to cuss.
“Dammit, Chloe,” he growled, trying to sit up and thrust into her.
She shoved him by his shoulders until he was flat on his back and shifted until she had his thighs pinned to the bed with her feet. “My turn, Pete. You like to see how fast you can make me come? Fine. I’m going to see how slow I can go without making you come.”
He groaned in pure agony, but she slid down another centimeter onto his erection. She sat up and let her legs fall to the side again, sinking down on him completely. “Pete,” she moaned as her body stretched to accommodate his.
His Enemy's Daughter Page 10
