“Have you ever invited your parents here?”
Why did she have to ask about them? He stopped in front of a picture of his dad. “My dad died when I was in high school, so he’s never seen my place.” His chest tightened and his arm felt like lead as he reached out to touch the frame. “I asked my mom to come over for Thanksgiving once, but she said no. She refused to set foot in my ‘pathetic bachelor mansion.’”
“Why is she so cold? I’d be proud of my son.”
“Even if you never wanted him?”
“Always.”
“You have a big heart.” He pulled her close and kissed her sweet lips. “I wish my sister did, then maybe she’d be more forgiving of my antics.”
“I bet you’re a fun uncle.”
“Much to Kaylee’s dismay.” He laughed as pictures of his sister’s stricken face popped into his head. “Once, I took her boy, Malcolm, flying with me.”
“You know how to fly?”
“Got my pilot’s license a few years ago. I’d completed all the required hours, so I felt confident carrying a passenger. He loved it—asked me all sorts of questions about how to fly—so I let him take over the controls. Of course, he had to brag to him mom that he flew all by himself. Kaylee flipped out. Swore she’d never let Mal go anywhere with me again. That didn’t last. Now I let him take off and the next time we go up, he wants to try landing. I made him promise not to tell her.”
“I hope for your sake she doesn’t find out.”
“I’ll live. What I’m really worried about is when she finds out I let Zoe play pilot.” JT grinned.
Claire shook her head.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Just water.” She wobbled as he led her to the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have driven here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He opened the refrigerator and handed her a bottle of water. “I would’ve taken you with me.”
She stood across from him and leaned on the cooking island, running her fingers over its gleaming quartz surface. “I know, but I didn’t want to leave my car.”
“Escape clause?” He pulled a bottle of scotch from the liquor cabinet.
“No.” She shook her head and unscrewed the bottle cap. “I didn’t want to leave it in an open parking lot all night on New Year’s Eve.”
“Good point.” Then he grinned. “All night?” He plunked a glass down on the counter and poured.
Her chocolate eyes sparkled, and she bit her lip. “Up for it?” She leaned on her elbows and her awesome breasts squeezed together and peeked from her blouse, begging for attention.
Scotch splashed on the hard quartz as his gaze stuck to her. He set the bottle down and grabbed a towel, but Claire beat him to the spill. She dragged her fingertip through the dark liquid and wiped a trail between her breasts.
A low moan rumbled in the quiet room. Is that me? He studied the island, calculating the angle and force needed to vault the thing and land on top of her.
A satisfied smile touched her lips as if she were anticipating the move, so he ditched that plan. His cock throbbed in protest, screaming for release now, but he put his baser instincts on hold and decided to stalk her instead.
Her eyes fluttered wide, and she fumbled for the chair behind her as he circled the barrier. The scent of warm whiskey emanated from her pulsing skin. He stopped short of touching her and reached for his glass. A long drink burned slowly down his throat, igniting his lust, fueling his need. He sat facing her, bumping his knee against hers while she waited. Enjoy it while it lasts, and make it last till we can’t walk.
“Well?” She drummed her fingernails on the countertop.
Another drink. Another stall tactic. Her eyes snapped. Hell, he could drive her crazy without saying a word, but dozens of dirty words pummeled his brain, and he couldn’t contain them. “As soon as I finish my drink, you’re going to get fucked in every nasty way I know.”
A small gasp escaped and her voice quivered. “How many is that?”
He raised his glass. “All of them.”
***
A wave of heat nearly knocked Claire to the hard tile floor. She braced a hand on the cool countertop until the rush quieted to a churning roar.
JT settled back with the scotch in his hand, slowly swirling the amber liquid. On the surface, he appeared casual, almost blasé. Smoldering sexuality oozed though denim, and pure evil danced in his eyes.
A fleeting panic seized Claire, but she cast it aside. Bored? No, he’s toying with me. Her nipples tingled and stiffened inside her bra. He smiled as she squirmed, but he wouldn’t drink. What the hell is this man doing to me? Maybe if she stripped in front of the sliding glass doors, he’d be motivated to let go of the scotch and grab onto her.
His gaze traveled over her body, taking in her fitted sweater and snug jeans as she waited for his next move. Would he kiss her? Touch her? Rip something off?
“Stand up.” His hand remained clamped around the half-full glass, but he flicked a finger in the direction he wanted her to go.
Stiletto heels clicked on the floor as she got up, trembling a bit as she took the position he’d indicated. “Would you rather have me stand over there?” She nodded toward the revealing patio doors. Light from his neighbor’s house penetrated the back yard—someone could be watching even at this hour.
“No. This time you’ll strip just for me.” He raised the glass to his lips, then changed his mind at the last second. “Take your pants off.”
Shivers coursed down her spine. Just for him—a private audience. She unsnapped her jeans and lowered the zipper, peeling them down her hips to her knees. The shoes had to go, so she stepped out of them and kicked her pants across the room. Goose bumps covered her legs.
“Cold?”
Standing in the big open kitchen, exposed to him, but shielded from the world outside, rattled her. The idea of having a larger audience frightened her less than the prospect of taking her clothes off for his intense gaze alone. She shook her head.
“Good.” He swirled the untouched scotch again. “Lose the panties.”
With a tug and a wiggle, she dropped the cherry red satin to the floor, leaving her naked from the waist down. She’d expected to remove her sweater next, but the bastard exposed her most vulnerable flesh first.
He groaned and emptied half the glass in one swallow.
Thank God.
Then he picked up the bottle and refilled his drink past the point it had been before.
Claire sputtered. Half-naked, showing off the good parts and he reached for the bottle? “Are you fucking kidding me?” What does it take to light a fire under his ass?
JT grinned. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
As she prepared to unleash another curse, she realized he’d played her, and she’d tipped her hand. She smiled and slid her bare feet across the floor, parting her thighs and exposing her ace in the hole.
But instead of folding, he stared at the counter, oddly transfixed by the inanimate object. His calculating gaze slid up and down her legs, then back to the countertop. He’s measuring. Hot dew collected between her legs as she imagined him bending her over the solid quartz.
“Put the heels back on.”
She nearly fell on her bare ass as she tripped into her shoes.
“Now go to my bedroom.”
What? “But I thought—?”
“Don’t argue.” He picked up the glass and pointed with it toward the hallway. “Upstairs, last door on the right.”
No kitchen sex. Damn it. She could’ve maneuvered him in front of the window, but maybe his bedroom provided a better view. She turned and took two trembling steps.
Suddenly, glass clacked on polished stone and wood scraped tile as JT got to his feet.
He grabbed her arm and jerked her back, jamming his straining hard-on against her naked ass. His zipper screeched open as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her body against the unforgiving island.
She gasped and slap
ped her palms on the stone slab, thrusting back against him as his cock invaded her from behind. What the hell happened?
Claire groped for anything she could hold onto for leverage, and sent the now empty glass skittering across the counter. Her scalp burned as he yanked her upright. “Holy fuck! Make me come!”
But he grunted, teasing her with a few hard, fast pumps, before pulling out and shoving her down the hall toward the front door.
She stumbled and he caught her, spinning her around for a penetrating kiss while his cock violated her thighs. They struggled with his pants, pushing and pulling them down as she tripped backward toward the staircase. She climbed one step but missed the next, and they tumbled, spilling onto the stairs in a tangle of arms, legs and tongues.
His cock impaled her, and she clamped her thighs around his ass to keep him in. “Harder, damn it!”
He indulged her for a moment, pounding her wanting flesh, then wrestled free. “You need to be naked.” He whisked her sweater and her bra over her head in the same swift motion.
She bent back on the steps, raising her breasts to his mouth, but he fumbled capturing her nipple and slid down the stairs. His face landed between her legs, and he took advantage of the happy accident, flicking his tongue on her throbbing clit.
“Fuck yes!” Claire flung her arm out and grabbed the railing, seizing his hair with the other hand and digging her heels into the carpet.
Fleeting licks teased her flesh, dancing in one aching spot before jumping to another equally needy one. He sucked her, nibbled her, as if sampling a tasty treat before devouring her whole. Ripples of pleasure cascaded down her body, threatening to dislodge their precarious position and send them to the floor. But a swell of hot, rushing lust lifted her body to his mouth, demanding satisfaction and getting it. Swirling pools of carnal gratification carried her away, leaving her gasping for air. “JT! You fucking bastard!”
She felt his laugh on her tormented clit and managed to stifle the urge to smack him.
He sat up and pulled his shirt off, then crawled up the steps, dragging his naked body over hers until his cock fit fully inside her. “I need this pussy.” He moaned, slowly thrusting. “I want to own it.” His torturous motion sucked her slippery flesh in with his.
“Goddamn it, I’ll let you claim anything you want if you keep fucking me like that.”
***
JT kept up the excruciating pace, driving Claire to a clawing frenzy and hitching a ride along with her. Anything I want. He wanted to make her squeal, make her cling to him, sweating and swearing. He wanted to give her the attention she craved, and he wanted love like no one else ever had.
But he couldn’t tell her all of that, not now, not in this heated moment with his brain half-fried and his body teetering on the edge of oblivion. And not when he still had so much to lose. So he’d show her as much as he could.
“I want it slow.” He pulled out a sliver at a time.
“Mmm….” She arched into him.
“I want it hard.” He shoved his hips into hers.
She gasped and shuddered. “Don’t stop.”
“And I want it rough.” He slammed their bodies on the stairs, wincing at the bruising pain. “You’re gonna feel that in the mornin’.”
“Ow yes!” She dug her fingernails into his ass and pounded back.
His entire body ached, with the most intense need rooted in his cock. Tongues of flame licked his skin, whipping up an inferno. Ah, but he couldn’t finish yet. He’d tested her patience and pushed his to the limit. And she’d said all night. If nothing else, he wanted to give her that. Now. Tonight.
He flicked his tongue in her ear. “Come for me.” Maybe if he got her off hard enough, she wouldn’t notice he hadn’t come. Her pussy throbbed and tightened around him. Oh shit, I’m gonna lose it. He slipped one hand under her ass, digging into the hot mound while he twisted his fingers in her hair and nibbled the spot where her neck met her shoulder.
“Oh. Oh!” Her body trembled, and he drove in deep, counting each nail in the staircase under them, remembering pounding them in one at a time.
Pounding. Not helping.
But she came fast, gashing his shoulders with her fingernails as she squealed. Sweat dripped from her skin as she clamped her legs around his. “Fuck me with a hammer,” she groaned.
Hearing his favorite curse on her lips made him laugh, and he won the battle with his cock. “There’s a hammer in my tool box.”
“I like the one between your legs.” She reached down and grabbed his stiff dick as he pulled out. “You’re still hard.”
His befuddled brain and her curling fingers rendered him incapable of offering an explanation. He slid back and up the stairs, trying to get away from her relentless caress.
But she refused to let go, crawling over his helpless body and capturing his mouth with hers. She stroked his unsatisfied cock, coaxing the release he’d held back when he’d fucked her. Not yet, not yet. The words became a mind-numbing chant, which did nothing to tame the fire in his veins.
“Why won’t you come?” She breathed the question on his lips. A flicker of fear haunted her eyes, but then she plunged her tongue into his mouth as if to prevent him from arguing.
He couldn’t answer if he wanted to. Some perverse part of him, not the one in her hand, believed he might be able fight off fate a while longer if he controlled something—anything. “You said all night.”
She smiled and tightened her grip, pulling up and stroking down his pulsing shaft. “Yes, I did.”
“Then don’t—” He gasped and shuddered as she circled the tip with her thumb.
“Don’t worry. I’m a creative woman.”
Pressure mounted inside his cock as her hands worked magic, pushing him to the boiling point. “I don’t doubt it.” Think about baseball.
Second base tickled the back of his hand as she leaned down to reclaim his mouth. He twisted his wrist and caught the soft mound, lingering there while third base beckoned, sliding hot over his thigh. He stole third as she threw a curveball, dipping down to suck his wood into her mouth.
That’ll never work again. He grabbed her hair and pulled her up, kissing her wayward lips while she maintained a firm grasp on his cock.
Why am I torturing myself? Holding back one orgasm wouldn’t make a difference if luck decided to turn against him. And maintaining control…? Ha. That’s a joke. He could let go now and deal with the fallout later.
Claire moaned into his mouth as he twisted his fingers inside her. She returned the favor and cupped him, her touch gentle but firm.
Fire shot from his balls through the top of his head. JT groaned while she fucked his mouth with her tongue, penetrating him as he’d done to her. Molten heat exploded over her hand and his stomach.
She released their kiss and licked the throbbing spot at the base of his throat. He gasped for breath, dropping back and smacking his head on the step beneath.
“Ow.”
She relaxed her grip and looked up at him. “Did I hurt you?”
His last breath escaped. Damn woman almost killed me. He threaded his fingers through her hair and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Why hadn’t he wanted to come? This woman’s mere presence could make him rise to the occasion more than once… and fast. “Nah. Takes more than a simple hand job to break me.”
Her eyes narrowed, and his limp cock slipped from her hand. “I see.” She sat up and wiped her sticky palm on his thigh. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t excite you. Better luck next time.”
Whoa. What? He snatched her ankle as she stepped over him. “Where are you going?”
She grabbed the railing and steadied herself. “Home.” Her gaze locked onto his hand clinging to her bare leg. “After I find my clothes.” She shook him off and headed for the kitchen, but he scrambled to his feet and managed to snag her arm, spinning her back against him. Heat flashed in her eyes as he pinned her to the closet door; her breasts heaved on his chest, and their breath came hot an
d heavy.
“I thought you were done running away.”
Chapter 12
Claire was blindsided by an irrational urge to slap JT, and she curled her fingers into his chest, drawing a hiss from him as her nails scored his skin. “I’m not running,” she snarled. He stumbled as she shoved him back. “I’m walking out the front door.”
He regained his footing and blocked her exit, a mischievous smile twitching his lip. “Naked?”
Her mouth fell open. “You think you can joke your way out of this?”
“I don’t even know what ‘this’ is!”
He doesn’t know? How can he not? “It’s, uh….” Fudge. Ten minutes ago they’d been so hot for each other they hadn’t even made it to his bed, and now she was threatening to walk out on him? She reviewed the events in her mind, trembling as images of them, tangled and sweaty on the stairs, nearly dropped her to her knees. He’d said something—just one word—that triggered her fury.
Takes more than a simple hand job….
Simple. Which meant boring. Dull. One good fuck and good night, Claire—that’s what his thoughtless words had implied. The evidence smeared over both their bodies pointed to another conclusion, though: he wanted her enough to fuck her where she stood… and he’d called her bluff when she tried to run.
More clues seemed to support that theory. Her anger faded and her face heated. “It’s nothing.” She glanced down at the floor.
He moved closer, lacing his fingers behind the small of her back when she resisted his pull. He curled a finger under her chin and made her meet his gaze. “‘Nothing’ wouldn’t send you out the door… naked.” His eyelid twitched as if he found it impossible not to wink. “At least tell me what I did wrong.”
You didn’t want to come. Did he think once would be enough? Did he doubt her ability to arouse him again? “You made a stupid joke, and I took it the wrong way.”
“Um… which stupid joke?”
She shook her head. “Never mind.” She pressed her hands on his shoulders and leaned back as she glanced down the hall toward the light spilling from the kitchen. Stay? Go home? What did she want? What did he want?
Home Is Where the Heat Is Page 13
