by Unknown
He knelt at her feet, lifting each one to remove her underwear, throwing the panties to one side. He removed her sandals, stroking her feet admiringly. He looked up at her. “Magnificent,” he murmured, “From head to toe you are a very desirable woman.”
And he was all man. Kneeling at her feet like that, looking up at her with desire in his eyes, she felt like she was breathing in pure testosterone. He was irresistible. “Thank you,” she replied, flushing with self-awareness, as he stood up.
Again he lifted her easily into his arms and rolled her onto the bed, his white t-shirt stretching tight over his biceps as he moved, his hands stroking down across her stomach. He kissed the inside of her thighs then eased her legs apart, his mouth moving into the source of her heat with direct, knowing movements.
She shivered when she felt his tongue, firm and direct, exploring her clit. His hands stroked her sensitive places, her mons, the crease at the juncture of her thighs, the folds of skin either side of his hungry mouth.
“Oliver,” she murmured. Her body arched, her head falling back against the pillows. She moaned and twisted on the bed while his tongue danced with her clit. Waves of pleasure built up and roared through her body. Her release hit her, fast and deep, but he didn’t let up, and the combination of his hands and his mouth on her while she trembled with release was too much.
“Please,” she cried loudly, between deep breaths. She wanted it all, to feel the touch of his bare skin on hers, his muscular shoulders under her hands and the thrust of his body inside her.
He stood up, eyeing her possessively as he hauled off the t-shirt and threw it on the floor. He undid his jeans and kicked his boots off, climbed out of the jeans. The hair on his chest, dark but sparse, tapered into a distinct line that led her eyes down into his groin.
His cock reared up, long and thick, its head beautifully defined and dark with blood. He snatched at a drawer beside the bed and pulled out a condom, ripping it open and rolling it onto the length of his cock. Each and every movement only seemed to confirm his utter masculinity and the magnetic appeal he had to her senses.
When he climbed over her, she reveled in the sensation of his warm muscular body between her thighs, breathed deep in the musk scent of his body, hungry for him, hungry for it all. His cock pressed insistently into her damp folds, where she was oh so sensitive after his tongue had brought her to orgasm. She moaned and writhed under him.
He eased the crown of his cock into her wet sheath, where she gripped at him, hungry for more. He swore low under his breath when he felt her inner muscles tighten around him and drove the full length of his shaft inside, and again. Each thrust was so exquisitely full and yet bordering on too much, her over-aroused sex was a riot of sensation. He had sensitized her with his mouth, and every time his cock crushed against her, deep inside, a sob built at the back of her throat. Her body reached up to him in desperation for release, her legs locked around his hips.
“Good?” he quizzed. “I want you to enjoy every second.”
Dear god, what a thing to say right then, when she was busy melting into his bed and almost crying from pleasure. It made her even wetter; her sex was flooded. The man was like a tidal wave, and his charisma flooded through her, inside and out.
He moved in fast, even strokes, pushing them nearer the brink.
His tongue plunged into her mouth. She was powerless to do anything but enjoy; she was in ecstasy. The pressure of his hardness inside her spread the heat of imminent climax through her body, where it seemed to burn. They were pacing, ever faster, towards crescendo. His mouth opened and each quick stride drew a harsh breath from him. Sonia reached for him inside, heat welling from the cauldron lodged in her pelvis.
“Oh yes… yes,” he urged, his eyes afire with passion when he felt her spasm. She felt his whole body arch and bow against hers and when he came, it was with a mighty roar and a succession of jerks that belted right through him.
Moments later, while she was still gasping and clutching at his shoulders in the aftermath, he leaned back, reached down and began stroking her from shoulder to hip.
“We’re not done yet,” he whispered and his mouth moved to
quell any resistance she might choose to voice with a kiss, melting her into submission all over again.
He kissed her face, her neck and her breasts, grazing the sensitive nipples with his tongue while his cock once again grew hard and insistent against her and his hands roved over her, provoking every nerve ending in her body.
That, she thought, her legs trembling and her mind dizzy at the prospect of another bout of intense lovemaking, is how reputations are built.
Falling for Trouble: Chapter 4
Sonia shuffled in the passenger seat of the MG, squinting as she tried to make out any movement from inside Tarquin’s Sussex mansion. Home for Tarquin and Gloria was a sprawling country house set in the green belt of London. That part of the countryside was dotted with small towns and villages where the well-off London commuters lived.
It was well over an hour since they’d parked along the street, Oliver’s sporty vehicle merging in with the flash cars parked in the affluent neighborhood. They were across the street from Tarquin’s home, where one house had too many cars for its driveway and two land rovers were parked out on the street, giving them good cover.
Surely they couldn’t have missed him already? He was due at the airport for his flight to Paris so he had to leave soon. His E-type Jag was still parked on the gravel drive, but he could take a taxi and the thought worried her.
She shifted her position. This surveillance business was uncomfortable, to say the least, especially as she was still wearing last night’s high heels and a mini dress. After their night of hot action and a mere two hours sleep, they hadn’t had time to stop by her flat for a change of clothes before staking out Tarquin’s departure.
“So, tell me.” She glanced back at Oliver. “What had you
planned to do with your time off work, before this came along?”
She watched him smile at her question, although he never lowered the miniature binoculars from his face. He was focused on the front door, watching for movement, leaving her to watch him—a pastime she wasn’t adverse to. She enjoyed the riot of sensations his presence set off inside her. They had been stuck inside the car together for some time and it hadn’t helped her keep her libido in check. Fear and danger were powerful aphrodisiacs.
“I had appointments to view some country pubs. I’m thinking of investing, a sideline, you know. I don’t want to be doing police work forever. I figured I’d have a second career when the time was right, meanwhile, buy a nice little rustic country pub and get a manager in.”
Were there hidden depths to the man after all? “Sounds wonderful. I’m surprised though, Mother says you and Alec will never settle down. That doesn’t exactly go with the rustic country pub image.”
“Are you accusing me of being incapable of change?” He was still smiling and she took the chance to memorize his profile.
“Well, no, but—”
“Here we go,” he interrupted, lowering his binoculars. “There’s a shadow in the hallway. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she said, pulling herself together and vowing to keep focused, despite the big distraction she had right by her side.
Looking back at the house she saw Tarquin climbing into his Jaguar. Gloria stood in the doorway wearing a red kimono, waving him off without enthusiasm. They watched as the Jaguar purred past their hiding place and turned onto the road.
“I feel like we should be going after him.” She nodded after the car that was speeding off into the distance.
“All in good time. Remember, I don’t have to tail him until after his Paris function.”
He was so methodical. Just as well he was in charge; she’d have them tearing off in the wrong direction in a panic.
He lifted the briefcase housing their recording equipment from the back seat and opened it up, flicking a couple of s
witches. When he’d pulled it out of the back of his wardrobe she’d been so amazed at the sight of the gadget that she instantly forgot her initial worries about wearing a hidden microphone. He told her it was out-of-date surplus equipment that he’d kept out of interest, but to her it looked very hi-tech indeed.
“Let me just check you out.” He gestured that she face him.
“I thought you did that last night.” She lifted one eyebrow. She couldn’t resist. Her body seemed to be under the impression that last night’s passionate encounter was just the beginning; it was hankering after more of him already.
“So I did.” He winked at her then pulled his headset into place.
He tapped the radio microphone under the collar of her jacket.
“That’s all in working order. So, remember what I said, just get her reactions and get out. Ready?”
Sonia swallowed. Her doubts were back. Could she really do this? Gloria, Tarquin’s pampered wife, had never liked her and now she was about to point out that the woman’s husband was involved in illegal operations. Did she really have the confidence and skills to pull this off?
“You’ll be fine. Just think about Alec. We’re doing this for Alec.”
Yes, she was doing it for her brother and he was in this trouble because of her boss. But that wasn’t her only motivation.
There was Oliver.
He gave her the confidence to believe she could make a difference. She enjoyed his company, but she wasn’t under any illusions about a meaningful relationship. He wasn’t the type to commit, but she liked the idea of spending more time with him and doing her bit to help out.
“Oliver, when we’re done here, I think we should stop at my flat to pick up a change of clothes and my passport. I am going to Paris and then to Prague with you. I want to help and I want to see Alec.
I need to know he’s safe.”
“No way. It might be dangerous.” He stroked his thumb over her lower lip and then lifted an escaped tendril of hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Sonia, before you go, there’s something I ought to say.”
She put a finger on his lips, pausing while she remembered how that mouth had felt making magic on her body, the night before.
“Oliver, I know what you’re going to say.”
“You do?” His eyes twinkled.
She dropped her gaze. “I know the score. You’re going to tell me that what happened between us last night wasn’t serious. Right?”
She fiddled with the lapel on her jacket and spoke the words with much more conviction than she felt. What had happened between them was so sudden and intense, but she knew she had to try to keep a level head where Oliver Eaglestone was concerned. She was way too clever to find herself falling for trouble. When she looked back up, she noticed that he had developed a slight frown.
“Sure,” he said, sounding rather unsure. “As long as you’re prepared for a counter attack,” he added and the twinkle came back in his eye.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied, as he pulled her over to him for a kiss. Just feeling his hands on her caused her body to respond instantly. She twined her fingers around his neck, drawing him closer. So much for keeping a level head.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue teasing against hers. Every move he made sent a whirlwind of awareness through her senses.
His closeness, his sheer maleness overwhelmed her.
She sighed when he moved away. “You’d better not kiss me like that again if you expect me to carry out any important tasks afterwards.”
He looked pleased with her remark. “I didn’t want you to forget me while you’re on the job.”
“That’s not likely, not likely at all.”
Their eyes locked and for a long moment neither of them made a move. Then he reached across her and opened her door. “The sooner we get this done…” he paused for effect, “…the sooner we get away.”
Despite his instructions, he seemed a bit reluctant to let her go.
But it had to be done.
She shook off the spell, saluted and stepped out of the car.
Straightening her outfit, she closed the door quietly. When she set off, she glanced back, nodding at his concerned expression, assuring him she was ready.
“Testing, testing,” she said as she walked up the gravel drive toward the house. She glanced back and he gave her the thumbs-up.
She smiled and continued on her path. “Now that I’ve got your attention,” she whispered into the microphone, “I want you to know that I’m coming with you. No arguments.”
She risked another glance. She could just make out that he was shaking his head, but there was a smile on his face. She might win that particular battle yet.
As she reached for the doorbell she lifted her chin and took a deep breath. You can handle this, she told herself. If you can handle an affair with notorious lover-boy back there, you could handle anything.
“Well, if it isn’t the pretty little research assistant,” Gloria Smythe drawled, pulling her kimono tight across her chest defensively, her gaze raking over Sonia’s rather rumpled night-on-the-town outfit with a condescending look. “Let me guess. You’re here to tell me you’re involved with my husband, and I don’t stand a chance of keeping him.”
Sonia fought the urge to laugh aloud. It was such an unlikely idea and the fact that Oliver was listening in was like having someone secretly share the joke.
“Not quite, but I might be able to answer some of your questions, if the terms are right.”
“Terms?” Gloria folded her arms over her chest, smirking.
“Blackmail is it?”
“No. I’d rather not discuss it on your doorstep. May I come in?”
Without answering, Gloria pushed the door wide open.
Sonia stepped inside, shut the door and followed Gloria down the austere hallway, mentally going over the potential areas of discussion she and Oliver had come up with on the way out here.
Gloria led her into a large country style kitchen. Walking over to a coffee percolator, she lifted the pot and gestured at Sonia with it.
“Take a seat. Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She eased up onto a bar stool and watched as Gloria set up cream and sugar on the breakfast bar and poured out two mugs of steaming hot coffee. Sonia spooned sugar into her cup, her stomach growling with approval when Gloria emptied a large patisserie box of Danish pastries onto a plate.
“Help yourself,” Gloria said as she sat down on the other side of the bar and snatched up a pastry. “I badly need comfort food.”
Sonia noticed the dark shadows under Gloria’s eyes. As she had suspected when Gloria had accosted her in the office, she was far from being a content woman. She sank her teeth into the pastry, watching Sonia warily.
“Thanks.”
“So, how much do you want and for what?”
“I don’t want cash, Gloria. I’m really thinking that we might be able to help each other out.”
Gloria took a sip of her coffee and then narrowed her eyes as she looked over the edge of the mug.
“Help each other out? What a novel idea. In my experience
you have to take care of yourself in this world because no one else gives a bloody damn.”
Sonia felt a wave of pity for her boss’s wife and wondered if there was any way to crack Gloria’s shell.
“Let me explain. My brother, Alec, is in a spot of bother and it has something to do with a job he’s doing for Tarquin, but I’m not sure what. I thought you might be able to help me figure out what’s going on, and in return I could maybe help you with the information you’ve been looking for.”
“Why should I help you? All I need is the name of the little tart Tarquin’s shagging, and as of last week I’ve got a private investigator on the case.”
Damn. She was a tough one all right, but Sonia could see that her comments had stimulated a glint of curiosity. Sonia didn’t particularly want to name-and-shame, but if it was Alec’s safety up against a d
ivorce-case that was quite obviously going to happen anyway, she had to give it a go. Everybody in the office knew what was going on between Tarquin and Cassandra, and it wouldn’t be long before Gloria’s investigator had all the details too.
“Well, I could write down the name you need to know and
you’ll have it right away. All I want to know is whether you are aware of Tarquin doing business outside his official duties.”
Gloria shrugged and picked up her cup again, swirling it in her hand. “Tarquin does lots of extra-curricular business but he keeps me in the dark about it. I can’t help you there.”
“Anything that you think he might be making a lot of cash on?”
She swallowed. It was such a direct question, but she didn’t think Gloria was the type of woman who would shy away from talking about money.
She was right.
Gloria stared at her and then reached over to a shelf and picked up a pen and paper. “Write the name down.”
It was like a game of truth or dare. What guarantee did she have that Gloria would tell her anything and fulfill her part of the bargain? What would Oliver do if he were in the hot seat?
He’d play the game and take the dare.
She wrote the name down and then folded the piece of paper tightly into her hand, resting her arm on the work surface where it could be seen. Her mouth had gone dry. She lifted her cup with her free hand and took another sip of coffee. It occurred to her that Oliver couldn’t hear anything and would be wondering what was going on.
“I’ll give it to you when I feel the time is right,” she said, for his benefit. She hoped he was impressed; she was. ‘Cool’ wasn’t a word she normally associated with herself, but she was taking it steady here and she could see that Gloria was busy eyeing the visible corner of the paper in her hand. “I also want some assurance that you won’t tell Tarquin I’ve been here today.”
“I won’t tell Tarquin anything, except the name of my solicitor.”
