She’d been as focused on work as she’d accused Max of being, and when she stood wrapped in his arms, their bodies moving with a rhythm like a slow bayou breeze, suddenly all her wonderfully exciting plans seemed part of a picture missing a big piece, a future that wasn’t complete.
With a sigh, she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, reminded herself that she had only one night with this man. She might need to consider turning over a new leaf, but she could sort out her life issues on her own time, after Max left.
The clock was ticking on her fantasy night.
4
“JOSIE, TELL ME—”
“Shh.” Josie came to a stop, forcing Max to do the same. Raising up on tiptoes, she lifted her face to his and whispered against his lips. “I don’t want to talk anymore—”
Catching her mouth in a hard kiss, he obliged. Their breaths clashed for an instant before Josie gave a pleasured sigh and arched against him, unable to resist the way he kissed her with such calm thoroughness, the way that sweet ache inside came alive. She wanted to feel him everywhere, wanted to savor every second of their night together. Just the two of them.
His tongue thrust possessively to tangle with hers, and she met each stroke. Exploring. Devouring. Now that the freedom to touch him was finally hers, she slipped her arms around his waist, dragged her hands up his back, discovered the strength of toned muscles and broad shoulders.
The Max of her fantasies.
As she traveled the taut muscles, learned the feel of him by touch, Josie knew he must still make time to work out. The business section might place him in boardrooms and on private jets, but the man she held in her arms found time to stay in shape.
Incredible shape.
She wondered if he worked out while talking business in a fancy club. Or on the golf course. Or while playing polo.
She didn’t ask. She didn’t see the point in chatting no matter how much she wanted to know about his life. He was leaving, and she’d soon be back to reading about him.
Until then she needed to savor the feel of his hands on her, the way his broad chest and strong arms blocked out the sight of everything but him. Tonight was hers. She’d seduced him fair and square and didn’t want to waste a second.
Not when Max broke away to trail his mouth along her jaw. He rained openmouthed kisses in that sensitive hollow behind her ear. He dragged his lips down her neck, and her pulse thudded hard in reply as he explored every inch of her skin, testing, tasting, igniting a fiery reply deep inside.
And she wasn’t the only one affected. She recognized his ragged breaths, his chest rising and falling sharply. His grip tightened as if he clung to his control, as if she made him feel raw around the edges.
Dragging her hands down his waist, she molded the tight curve of his butt, nudging him closer to gauge the physical effect she was having on him.
A very physical effect.
A length of impressive erection suddenly nestled against her belly, and Josie couldn’t resist rocking back and forth in welcome. Parting her legs, she rode his thigh, a long stroke that caught her in just the right place. Max gave a throaty growl, and their fantasy officially started.
They stood in the glow of dazzling Christmas lights making out as if they’d waited forever. And they had. Every night of provocative performances and every morning of sexy letters and gifts had mounted the tension to the breaking point.
They didn’t have to waste time with the preliminaries of getting to know each other. They’d known each other forever, and although Max had been gone a while, he was still Max. Trustworthy. Gorgeous. Oh-so yummy.
So Josie concentrated on capturing each moment in memory, the feel of her cheek against his shirt, the warm muscle below. His thigh nudging between hers as he led her in their dance. The sweet ache that pooled low in her belly. The want that was more exquisite than she’d ever imagined.
The promise of the night ahead.
She’d barely caught her breath by the time she realized Max was maneuvering them toward the table. It took another moment to discover what he was after.
The cookies.
Holding her tucked firmly against him with one arm, he flipped open the box.
“Here it is.” He held up a cookie.
Dance for me.
He took a big bite.
Laughing, Josie rose on tiptoes to kiss a crumb from his mouth. Then she caught his hand and dragged him back into the living room to the sofa. “You sit and I’ll dance.”
His smile was all male. And while he’d always been beautiful with his tawny golden looks and deep blue eyes, life and maturity had hardened his features, sculpted the strong angles of his face, honed beautiful into striking.
Max settled in comfortably for the show. Her heart rate spiked hard, and she felt the heat in his gaze. She turned away and headed across the room, steeling her nerves for the performance ahead.
There was no denying that imagining Max watching was an entirely different experience than facing Max while he watched.
She could see expectation on his face, practically feel excitement radiating off him like the summer sun on hot pavement. She breathed deeply to center herself, to rally her boldness, to let that indulged expression on his face provoke her. To dare. To want. She wanted hunger to sharpen his features, wanted to see him struggle with his control.
She wanted to dazzle him with desire.
He’d sent her lacy undergarments, and the card tucked inside his gift had expressed how much he would enjoy knowing she wore his gift during the day while she worked. Josie had done as he’d asked. She’d savored the feel of the soft lace under her suit, while sexy thoughts of him back in Number 17 had distracted her all day.
Tonight she’d worn his sexy undies again and would treat him to an up close and personal glimpse of just how sexy those thoughts had been.
Closing her eyes, she focused on the music, let the smooth notes pour through her. She began a simple swaying that loosened her muscles and made her feel decadent.
Working the buttons at her throat, she slipped each through its hole, a thoughtful unveiling of skin and the camisole below. The lace caressed her skin with every move, tantalizing her with a soft touch, arousing her with thoughts of pleasing Max.
Just slipping the sleeves down her arms became an erotic dance, and she dragged the blouse around her neck, along her shoulders, showcasing the camisole, which had cups that precluded the need for any bra.
The lift-and-separate action displayed her cleavage to amazing advantage. She dipped forward to give him a shot through the tangle of her long hair. She chanced a peek at him to find the look she’d imagined so often in her fantasies—his strong face sharpening with his need to touch her.
Je t’ai regardée. Je t’ai désirer. Maintenant je veux te toucher.
Slowly she shimmied closer, not wanting him to miss a thing, her movements emboldened by one simple desire—making Max want her more than he’d ever wanted before.
All those high-powered women in his life might suit the corporate shark he’d become, but he was back in Court du Chaud now. Here they played life by different rules. The days slowed to a sultry Louisiana pace, a pace meant to endure the heat, and to savor pleasure.
She wanted him to remember this night, so when he returned to his fast-track life, he wouldn’t find it so easy to forget his roots. She didn’t want him to forget her, or the woman she’d grown up to be. She wanted a place in his memory all to herself, wanted him to recall her whenever he thought of home, wanted him to burn when he did.
So she let the blouse slide from her fingers, draped it across his lap, where a telltale bulge proved she was on her way to getting her wish even though her performance had only begun.
The dark expanse across their alley had always hidden Max’s responses. Her imagination had made her bold, but now, seeing the tautness of his well-toned body and watching his fingers dig into the sofa…Josie hadn’t known how empowering she’d find this man in his desire. His w
ant fueled her own. Her body responded to the sight of him as if she’d waited forever.
She had.
With a smile, she met his gaze and reached for the fastening at her waist. His eyes sparkled with anticipation, then slipped away as she rocked her hips back and forth in a seductive motion, turning around as she worked the lined skirt down, down, down…. She let it fall to the floor.
Now he knew what was under her skirt.
His camisole with silky garter straps. Thigh-high hose. No panties, but lots and lots of bare skin. Now he knew she’d sat across from him during dinner, she’d danced in his arms with all her intimate places caressing the skirt’s soft lining.
Max liked what he saw.
He grazed his hand across her bottom when she danced close, just a brush of warm fingers that conveyed his need like a current across her skin. Slipping his fingers between her thighs, he teased her moist folds, a tantalizing touch that made her sex give a single hard throb in reply.
“You have no idea how much I want to touch you, Josette. All of you.”
But she did know. Want was all over his heavy-lidded expression. His voice was a raw ache, a needy sound that made her smile.
“And you will. Soon.”
She didn’t know how much longer she could wait, either. She felt more decadent than she’d ever dreamed possible while standing before him in her sexy outfit that revealed so much more skin than it concealed.
A trembling excitement built deep inside, fueled by his hungry expression, by his sense of eagerness. A man whose patience had almost reached an end. His struggle not to shove out of the sofa and grab her was all over him.
Goose bumps washed over her bare skin, a physical display of her arousal when he skimmed those fingertips behind her knee, a glancing touch that sent another current through her.
But their show wasn’t over just yet, and laughing, she sauntered out of reach, twirling in time with the heady beat, teased by the way her nipples caressed the lace. Sliding a hand over her tummy, Josie circled slowly before him, gifting him with her swaying hips, her bare bottom, and after a complete revolution, she aimed her fingers toward her thighs.
She touched herself where he’d just touched her. She tempted him with all that could be his now that he’d crossed the alley to join her fantasy. Arching her back, she thrust forward her breasts brazenly, flaunted nipples that jabbed eagerly against the lace, and brought her long hair into the dance.
She meant to tease him, but it was her body that burned each time her hair swished across her waist, every part of her skin so sensitized. She could practically feel his gaze cut across the jeweled darkness, his eyes burning with a heat she could now finally see.
The reality of him watching—wanting—thrilled the places where she touched herself, made her knees weak. Which meant this dance had to come to an end. Collapsing into a boneless heap at this man’s knees wasn’t on tonight’s program.
Josie planned to bring Max to his knees.
MAX’S BREATH CAUGHT in his throat when Josie sauntered near, all sleek curves, creamy skin and sultry grace. She rose above him in a glorious display of sensuous woman, and before he could rally enough brain cells to react, he found her straddling him, hose-clad knees sliding along his legs, the sleek expanse of parted thighs spread across his lap.
She planted her hands on the sofa behind him, filling his vision with the sight of full breasts swelling over her bodice, long shiny hair playing peek-a-boo with all her curves.
“Ah, Josie—”
“Shh, no talking.” She dropped a kiss to his lips. “No thinking. Just let yourself feel, and enjoy.”
No problem. He wanted to feel every inch of this warm temptress, and when she started moving seductively in a lap dance straight from a wild dream, Max felt, and enjoyed.
Slipping his hands behind her, he cupped her backside, followed her sultry rhythm as his body temperature soared. She stretched out above him, while his gaze hungrily traveled up every inch of that gorgeous terrain, all glossy dark hair, bare skin and soft lace, until the seam biting into his crotch was the only thing keeping him from dragging her onto the couch and underneath him.
He dug his fingers into her sweet cheeks, lifting her on each upstroke enough to glimpse all the secrets hiding within the neatly trimmed hair between her thighs. When she spread wider to accommodate him, suddenly all those warm folds lined up with his erection. Max could feel her heat through his pants, felt himself grow impossibly harder.
“Josie,” he ground out in a stranger’s voice.
He couldn’t stop from lifting his hips to ride the ache, to press against all her soft places and imagine the feel of skin against skin. She breathed his name on a sigh when her body met his in a breathtaking collision.
Stunned by the intensity of his reaction, he couldn’t remember ever wanting the way he wanted Josie, could barely think beyond wondering how he’d managed to withstand her determined seduction for so long.
How he’d resist her now that she rode him with luxurious strokes.
Working his way along her body, Max distracted himself by the feel of silky hose along her thighs, skidded his palms past the hose and up bare skin to the smooth expanse of her lace covered stomach.
Josie trembled, one of those all-over shivers that told him she felt his touch everywhere. And this was exactly the distraction he needed. Dragging his hands up her ribs, he lowered his face to her breasts and caught the lace on her bodice with his teeth.
Her chest rose and fell on a sharp breath as he tugged the whole thing down. Her breasts spilled out, assaulting him with the tempting softness of her skin, an innocently seductive vanilla scent that was hers alone.
His hands tightened around her waist as he absorbed the incredible sight of her. She swayed her hips in a hypnotic, erotic motion. Her creamy breasts thrust upward temptingly, puckered nipples begging him to lean forward and taste.
He couldn’t resist. No way.
Lifting his gaze, Max watched her as he sucked a taut tip into his mouth, tasted her warm skin. Her lips parted around a tiny whimper, a pouty, kissable moue, as she tossed her head back, hair tumbling behind her shoulders in a sleek wave.
Catching the other tip between his thumb and forefinger, he tugged lightly, smiling when she slid her hands over his shoulders to brace herself against another shiver. The sight of her burned through him. He liked discovering what aroused her, and made love to her beautiful breasts until she exhaled his name on a sigh and pressed against him, trying to knead her orgasm into breaking.
She was too close to kneading his into breaking.
So easing his fingers between them, Max touched her intimately, sought that tiny bundle that centered the core of her pleasure.
“Oh, Max…” she cried out when he found it.
Exploring her with a familiarity that made his mouth go dry, he brought her to climax with deliberate strokes, the promise of greater pleasures to come.
Because that’s what he wanted from Josie.
More than one night of pleasure.
5
JOSIE EXHALED a series of shuddering gasps and dissolved against him, an enticing armful of warm skin and satisfied sighs. Max took advantage of the moment, nestling her close, amazed by how right she felt.
He knew this feeling. In business it translated into the moment he was on the brink of a conquest, when his wheeling and dealing came together and all the pieces fell into place.
He’d learned what he needed to know, what he wanted for the future.
Josie.
As if she could sense his thoughts, she nuzzled her face against his neck, made him wish he was naked everywhere. “I wanted to bring you to your knees.”
“You’ve been doing that every night for weeks now. Fair’s fair. It was my turn.”
She laughed softly. “I’d forgotten how you did that.”
“What?”
“Always said the right thing.”
“Did I?”
“Mmm-hm
m. Now don’t get me wrong. You could still be a nightmare, but that was usually because of Lucas. When you were on your own, you were always decent.”
“I don’t guess you’ve been reading about how decent I am in the business section.”
“Hardly. According to the press, you’re as cutthroat as our pirate captain.”
Was it any wonder Josie hadn’t considered he could offer her any more than a fling?
The answer was so obvious it ached. She’d been judging him by what his grandmother shared and by what she read. She had every right to expect him to avail himself of their time together then leave town without a backward glance.
He’d earned that reputation.
He traced her spine beneath her glossy hair, willed her to see past the man he’d become.
“I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove I can be more than my press, Josette.”
“You think I don’t know that already?”
“I haven’t been home in a long time.”
“You’re still you, Max.”
Something in her expression assured him she would have never involved herself in their erotic game if she hadn’t believed that about him.
He liked her honesty, and her boldness. She was beautifully comfortable in her seminudity, and he ran his hands down her arms, thumbed her nipples just to watch her respond. He reached for the necklace dangling between her breasts.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she asked. “It was a Christmas gift from a long time ago.”
Max already knew, but suddenly he wanted to hear why she still wore that tiny angel. Needed to. “Tell me.”
“It was a gift from my first secret Santa. Someone who was kind to me when I needed kindness. I’ve always valued that, so I wear this to remind me.” For a moment her stare was as deep as the bayou at sunset, shadowy, still, and somehow sad. Then it was gone, and her grin flashed bright. “I was so inspired that I still keep up the tradition.”
“Really?” Lucas hadn’t mentioned this. “With whom?”
Red Letter Nights Page 17
