by Deanna Lee
“I’d love to please you, Jilly, but we’re on a dance floor, sweetheart. As crowded as it is, the song’s going to end soon and everyone’s going to see where my hand’s at.”
The thickly spoken words drifted to her ears, reflecting appetite as well as humor. Jillian heard both, but it was the truth that pulled her from the sensual haze, the truth of how much she’d allowed herself to forget the mistakes of the past and let herself go. Panic assailed her, tightening her limbs and tamping back the raw desire coiled to life in her belly and burning like a wildfire of need deep in her core. Her grinding moves came to an abrupt halt as judgment returned to taunt her.
Oh, God, what the hell had she been thinking?
She had to stop this. Had to explain that she’d allowed the music to carry her away and act completely shameless with a man she had yet to set eyes on.
But how?
And did she honestly want to?
Anxiety ate at her, but so did the scintillating thrill of doing the kind of daring thing she hadn’t done in years. The kind of thing she would never do with or around those who knew her as Jillian the Professional.
The magical hand that had spun warmth and wetness in her with barely more than a touch lifted away. The discontented whimper that broke from her lips answered her earlier question. She didn’t want to end this. Only, judging by the fact that her dance partner had let her go, he did.
Dejection filled her for one gloomy second, and then he caught her hand in his and twirled her. She landed awkwardly against a wide, hard chest and swallowed back a breath of mixed shock and elation. He wasn’t dismissing her, just changing course as the music dictated.
The flashing overhead lights gave way to the soft glow of candles arranged throughout the reception hall. A slow melody drifted from the front of the room, a mesmerizing song that had nothing on the gripping heat in the stranger’s eyes.
They were dark—maybe brown or deep blue; Jillian couldn’t tell in the dim lighting. She could tell other things, like his build. He had a good six inches on her five-foot-seven frame, and, if the feel of his body against hers was any sign, he was both muscular and lean. Thick, dark hair framed an angular face that sported a touch of five-o’clock shadow. Full lips hovered over hers as if they might advance at any moment.
Her mind cleared with that last thought and a fresh dose of heat coursed through her. He was yummy, but he was also vaguely familiar. From the wedding party, yes, but for some other reason. Some reason she prayed had nothing to do with business.
“You’re a friend of Mike’s?” she asked.
He twined her arms around his neck, then placed his own at her waist as they fell into a slow dance. A lazy smile tugged at his lips. “From college, yes.”
He was educated, whoever he was. Not that education mattered for what she wanted to do with him, but…What she wanted to do with him? What did she want to do? Okay, have a night of wild and kinky sex—that much was a given, from the shockingly hard points of her nipples to the cream that seeped between her thighs—but did she dare? Not without a little more information.
Jillian didn’t want to know him well, just as she didn’t want him to know her well. Too much information could lead to potential future problems. A few details were important, though. For starters, if he was married.
But, no, he wasn’t married. Mike might only know Jillian through his new wife, Molly, but he still wouldn’t allow a married man to come on to her. “What would Mike say if I asked about you?”
The stranger’s smile kicked higher. His fingers began a rhythm at her waist that was both featherlight and amazingly distracting. “That I love a good challenge and know how to leave a woman with a smile.”
The cockiness of the answer probably should have made her have second thoughts. Instead, she laughed and smiled back. God, how she missed bantering for the hell of it. “So, you’re a womanizer?”
“Is that what it sounded like?”
“Is that how it is?”
Seconds ticked by, and Jillion anxiously waited for his response. It came in actions instead of words. His fingers moved higher, along her thinly clothed sides, to graze the outer swell of her breasts. He applied the slightest bit of pressure and her nipples pulsed for his touch.
That dangerously sexy mouth of his curved once more. His eyes showed amusement that ensured he knew the effect he was having on her. It was tempting to turn away and reject him and the arrogance he gave off as far as his sexual appeal was concerned. She might have, too, if at that moment his thumb didn’t reach out to stroke the underside of her breast, the pad moving in a leisurely circle that had every one of her nerves at attention.
She bit back a sigh that he would move inward, closer to her straining nipple. There was no need to sigh, no need to beg. She could feel his swollen cock cradled against her belly. He wanted her. All she had to do was say she wanted him, too, and they would be out of there and in some place far more private.
Heat speared through her with the thought of how quickly they could be away from there, their clothes stripped away, limbs tangled, naked and sweaty. Those strong, very capable-looking lips of his on hers, his tongue stroking her flesh with damp, lazy licks. The hot, hard length of his shaft pushing between her thighs and deep into her sheath.
Oh, yes, she wanted that. Wanted to let go and just feel.
If only the circumstances were right….
Jillian struggled to mask her eagerness. That he knew Mike didn’t bother her. Once they returned from their honeymoon, Mike and Molly would be moving halfway across the country. The only things that mattered here were that she wouldn’t be seeing or hearing from this man after tonight and that her actions with him couldn’t return to harm her. “Where are you from?”
The slow movement of his thumb along the underside of her breast paused, starting again with his reply. “Chicago.”
Anticipation jetted through her, pushing her building desire to new heights. He wasn’t from around here, and the more she looked at him, the more certain she was they’d never met. Those two factors combined were an even greater stimulant than his potent grin. They meant the circumstances were right. And that meant she was going to have the one thing she’d craved these last four years even more than the loud, slightly tacky outfits that used to make up her wardrobe.
She was going to have no-holds-barred, kill the composure and give into the thrill sex. Hallelujah!
“What about a name?”
She didn’t bother to mask her eagerness and he clearly took note. His penis jerked against her belly and his expression became one of urgency. “Brendan,” he said, the calm tone belying his hot look.
“Just Brendan?”
“That would all depend. Is it just Jilly?”
Jillian managed to stop herself from correcting his usage of her childhood name. It was immature and completely removed from the capable, commanding woman she’d transformed herself into. But, for tonight, it was perfect.
Smiling, she moved her hands from his neck to coast over his sides. She thanked the glasses of wine she’d had with dinner, and moved her hands lower still. Her fingers reached his tuxedo pants and, through the thin material of his dress shirt, she caressed the virile flesh just above his waist.
His breath rushed in and his cock jerked once again.
Her smile growing with the distinctly female power that assailed her, she brought her lips to his ear. The spicy tang of aftershave and something far more intoxicating filled her senses as she whispered, “Just Jilly, and so you don’t have to waste your time asking, the answer is yes.”
For a second or two when Jilly had swiveled around and stared up into his eyes, her own filled with desire as much as what appeared to be hesitancy, Brendan had thought he’d made a mistake—that she wasn’t the hot-blooded vixen her invigorating dance moves, and the bold way she’d ground her mound against his hand in a room full of people, seemed to indicate. Then her cautious look had faded and she’d snaked her palms down his che
st and breathed one very warm and willing yes into his ear.
Coincidentally, it was the same word leaving her lips now, as they stood twined together inside his hotel suite’s doorway. They hadn’t made it any farther.
He leaned into the softness of her body and ran his tongue over the spot on her neck where her pulse beat erratically. Her hands buried in his hair, short nails biting with just enough pressure to have the blood screaming to life in his veins.
Jilly squirmed, and the hard ridge of her pubic bone brushed over his rigid shaft. Shuddering with the need the simple caress brought forth, he turned his teasing licks to fervent nips.
She shivered in his arms and tossed her head back. “Oh, yes. Yes. Yes!”
Brendan stopped his nibbling to grin at that last ecstatic one. If she made this much noise when all they’d manage to accomplish so far was a little necking, what would she be like when they got around to the main event? Not that he was complaining. He happened to be a big fan of a woman who wasn’t afraid to let her love for sex show.
She lifted her head and met his gaze. Her hands moved to cup his ass. She tugged him closer yet and rotated her pelvis against his. “I want you, Brendan. I want you now. Right now!”
Had he actually thought her the cautious type for a second or two back downstairs? Fuck, no, nothing cautious about this one. She was all fire and impatience. And sex, he added with a short laugh he let flow into his words. “Now? No patience, sweetheart? No buildup? Just get to it?”
“I had my buildup on the dance floor. I don’t need more.”
“What if I do?”
Wariness flashed through her moss-green eyes, then was gone as one of her hands released his buttocks to cup his dick through his pants. An impish smile curved her lips. “I can feel. You don’t need any more buildup, either.”
Jilly’s fingers clasped tighter, pumping his stiff cock. He groaned. If she kept up with the squeezing, he also wouldn’t need to bother with taking his clothes off or locating a condom. He’d be coming right here by the suite’s entrance.
Not that it was a bad idea. In fact, it was a very good idea.
Moving too fast to allow her the time to digest his actions, Brendan jerked from her hold and slid his hands down the front of her dress and under the short hem. Elation filled him as his fingers met with the crotch of her panties, making it clear she wore the type of stockings that were hooked to a garter belt and ended at the tops of her thighs.
He pushed past the damp lace and speared through the curls beneath to finger her slit. With a shallow gasp, Jilly released a hot stream of breath into his face. He liked the sound of that, of her losing control. From the way she’d taken over their sensual dancing to her agreement to have sex even before he could ask, he took her as the type who had to be on top and in command, both in bed and in every other facet of life. It was time she learned change could be a good thing. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.”
“But not enough.”
“What?”
He moved his finger, stroking the swollen lips of her juicy cunt, but going no farther. He wanted to build this up the way she said she didn’t need. He wanted to make her come undone completely, until she was thrashing in his arms and screaming with her climax.
Her breathing grew shallower with each caress of her pussy lips and finally he allowed himself to go farther, to rub at her engorged clit. She shuddered with that first touch and his entire body vibrated with the unguarded look on her face.
Damn, she was stunning when she let herself go. Not more stunning than other women he’d fucked, just different, that something different that had convinced him to break from the norm and be the one to do the approaching.
Brendan stilled his teasing and skewered one finger deep inside her warm, slick sheath. Her eyes flared wide and then shut.
“Open them, Jilly!” In the past he’d never cared about watching the excitement in his lover’s eyes—only pleasing their bodies. This woman he wanted to feel and see everything with. Maybe it was because she didn’t seem to recognize him and want him for his money or legacy, the way so many others did, or maybe it was something else. It was a maybe he’d ponder later; right now there were far more pressing matters at hand.
Jilly opened her eyes. He added another finger to the first, plunging in and out of her drenched cunt, rubbing against her clit with each deep thrust. He reveled in every whimper, every throaty sigh, and the awe of rapture building on her expressive face. “I want to watch your eyes when you come. And you will come. You want to right now. I can feel your pussy contracting, begging to be let free. Come for me, Jilly. Let go.”
“Not like…” The muscles of her sex compressed, pulling at his fingers, hardening his cock to the point of explosion. “Wasn’t…supposed to…be like…” Her eyes slammed shut. She snapped them open again as her pussy clenched around him, contracting tighter, tighter, then all at once letting go. “Oh, God….”
Hot cream poured over his fingers, showering his palm and forcing him to mentally stop himself from responding in kind. This moment was for her. There was plenty of time for him later. “That’s it, sweetheart. Just let go.”
Brendan pulled free of her sex and brushed his fingers across her clit. Jilly’s body let loose with another round of tremors. She bit down on her lower lip and her cheeks blazed with vivid pink. Her eyes stayed focused on his. Focused and so damned green and direct they seemed to see right through him.
“Fuck, you’re so intense. I love watching your face when you come. It makes me want to see how many different expressions I can bring out. How you’ll look when I take you with my mouth, my tongue. When I fill up your sweet cunt from behind. I want to see it all, Jilly, but I don’t think one night will give us enough time.
“Once I move here permanently, we’ll meet again. Wherever you want. Once more, or twice. However long it takes to see—”
A squeak slipped past her parted lips, cutting him off short. She closed her mouth and took a step to her left, dislodging his fingers from her body. Her head whipped around, coming to a stop facing the opposite wall. “Oh, my God, would you look at the time! Ten forty-five already.”
“Like I said, we won’t have time for everything tonight, but we’ll still have time for plenty.”
Jilly continued to stare at the wall clock another few seconds and then looked back at him. Determination filled eyes that moments ago had been dark with ecstasy. “No. We don’t. I—I have to go. Now!”
“What?” Brendan took a step back. Was she fucking kidding him? Things were just getting good and she had to go?
“I was supposed to be home by ten.”
Yeah, she had to be kidding him. Who in their right mind went to a wedding reception with the intention of leaving by ten o’clock? A kid, or maybe a ninety-year-old. Neither of which she happened to be.
Feeling irritation made all the worse by the restless ache in his pants, he smirked at her. “And this is because of your Cinderella complex?”
She frowned. “She could stay out until midnight.”
He almost laughed with the irony in the remark, only he wasn’t up to laughter at the moment. “My point exactly. What the hell’s the rush? Mommy and Daddy have the curfew reins held extra tightly tonight?”
Fine lines marred Jilly’s forehead. She wrapped her arms around her waist and stared at him like she’d just reentered her body and didn’t like what the person who’d taken over in her absence had done. Unfolding her arms, she moved to the door. “I—I’m sorry. I have to go. Ginger needs me.”
“Ginger?” As in her daughter, maybe?
“My…she just needs me.” She opened the door and slipped through to the other side, closing it behind her.
Brendan stared at the door, uncertain of what he was feeling. Shock. Anger. Disbelief. Maybe a combination of them, all over the unlikelihood of what had just happened.
Women never walked out on him. Sure as hell not without a good-bye or an explanation to their abr
upt departure. And for damned sure not seconds after he’d given them an orgasm with the intention of supplying several more. But then, women generally knew who he was. Jilly hadn’t and she’d wanted him all the same, at least for a small amount of time. That made her one among the masses. Having left him with a major hard-on or not, it also made her a challenge he couldn’t resist, not when he’d yet to taste that slightly too-wide mouth of hers.
“You left to feed your dog, and that doesn’t strike you as odd behavior?”
Jillian frowned at her friend Tawny, who sat next to her in the boardroom, waiting for the Monday morning meeting to start. They were keeping their voices lowered, but she was still far from comfortable talking about her personal life around her coworkers. “I knew she’d be hungry. I always feed her before I go to bed and I always go—”
“To bed at ten thirty,” Tawny finished with a knowing look. “That you live by a hard-and-fast schedule these days is clear. What’s also clear is that your leaving had nothing to do with a schedule, but the fact that you were scared.”
“What?” The word came out loudly. She cast a surreptitious glance around, thankful to find no one paying attention.
“You were afraid of letting go enough to have a little fun.”
“I have plenty of fun and I wasn’t scared.”
“Uh-huh, right. The hard-nosed persona and black-widow wardrobe might have the rest of these people convinced, but, girl, I know you better. I know the real you. I also know that outside of your brief lapse Saturday night, the last time you let the real you come out to play was four years ago when we got drunk off Jell-O shots at the company New Year’s party.”
And Jillian had subsequently proceeded to ring in the New Year by kissing every guy in the place on the mouth whether he was single or not. Every guy including the husband of a major hotel chain proprietor with whom she’d been in the throes of signing a grand-scale deal. The deal had gone belly-up fifteen minutes later and the job Jillian loved had come damned close to going right along with it.
