Clearly amused by his rambling speech, she leaned close. “You’re trying to protect me.”
“I’m a considerate guy.”
“I’m fairly self-sufficient.”
“I get that.” And he was starting to think he should have kept his big mouth shut, skipped the cowboy code of shielding the womenfolk, and gone straight into making his move. “Wanna kiss now?”
“Let’s see.” She traced her fingertip across his chest. “Do I want to discuss the underhanded way my potential client ruined a perfectly pleasant weekend by inviting my rival to participate in a competition for his lucrative contract, or would I rather have that really amazing mouth of yours fastened to mine?”
Smiling, he cupped her cheek. “We’ll go slow.”
True to his word, he glided his lips across hers, keeping his touch light, gentle, lingering. Though his hands tingled with the need to wander, he kept one against her cheek and the other alongside her waist. He concentrated all his effort on her mouth. He wanted every sensation focused. He wanted to tease and explore, learn her responses, inhale her sighs.
Her tongue slipped past his lips. As heat suffused his body, he held control by a fraying rope. He wanted to prolong every second, to separate himself from the rushed, demanding world where she lived.
He yearned to hold her against him, sway to an old-fashioned ballad in a dimly lit room. She’d wear a flowing dress of pale pink satin that slithered down her body with the care of a dedicated lover. He imagined candlelight flickering across her creamy skin as she smiled at him and laid her head on his shoulder. A moment suspended in time, secured by comfort.
A sudden breeze rushing off the water brought him back to reality.
They parted with her looking dazed and aroused, and him wondering how they’d gone from interest to fiery chemistry to the kind of familiarity reserved for couples who’d known each other for years.
“Should I walk you back to your room?”
She placed a kiss on his cheek. “What’s your hurry?”
Her breath against his ear made his erection swell to near pain. He closed his eyes to gain control of his desire. “Absolutely none.”
He was going slowly. No matter how much it killed him.
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he slid his finger from the base of her throat over the swell of her breasts. “Can I touch you?” he asked.
Her cheeks flushed with desire. “Aren’t you already?”
“Not as much as I’d like to be.”
Hunger swam into her eyes. “Show me.”
He pressed his lips to her pounding pulse, letting his hand drift down the center of her body, across her stomach to her thighs. Tracing the tips of his fingers over the fabric of her dress, he let them wander beyond the edge, meeting the silky skin there.
Beneath his lips, her heart beat wildly. As he moved his hand higher, heat leaped off her. He pressed his palm against the satin barrier of her panties.
Her breath caught.
He pushed aside the fabric and encountered her moist, feminine heat. His erection pulsed, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to bury his body between her legs and satisfy the aching need.
He pleasured her with his fingers, gently at first, then applying more pressure.
Her head fell back as her body arched. A low moan escaped her lips.
Watching her enjoying his technique was itself seductive. As much as he longed for the same intimate touch in return, he experienced nearly the same thrill in seeing her breathing escalate, her pupils dilate.
“Slower?” he rasped in her ear.
“Oh, my, faster.” She kissed him. “Harder.”
Gladly, he gave her what she wanted.
She clutched his shoulders, and he pressed his lips to the base of her throat. He loved feeling her pulse fluttering against his mouth. Victoria’s encouraging response forced him to smother his own moan.
With all the day’s tension, he wasn’t surprised she was so quickly on the brink of release. Though he hoped he had a bit to do with the intensity of her arousal.
As his pace increased, her breathing grew choppy. When she rocked her hips against him, he increased the tempo. She gasped.
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered. “Please don’t stop.”
No way would he. He wanted her to climax more than he wanted to take his next breath.
He wanted to swallow her moans and feel her body respond to his touch. He wanted her hips to grip his and drive them both to satisfaction.
And he absolutely had to master his own desires for any of that to happen.
When he felt her orgasm start, the hesitation, the gasp, the jerk of her hips, he buried his face against her throat, even as he kept up the pace with his fingers, absorbing every vibration.
As the shuddering subsided, she held his face and kissed him with an enthusiasm that had his head buzzing. Plus, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a good dose of gratitude.
“That was amazing,” she mumbled as her head flopped on his shoulder.
“I’m glad.”
She traced his lips with her finger. “I could return the favor.”
He slid his tongue over the pad, relishing the simple contact with her skin as much as he’d delighted in her rush of pleasure.
The temptation to give in to fleeting thrills was great, but he wanted more than a quick release. “I can wait,” he said.
6
New York Tattletale
Lifestyles of the Wacky and Wealthy
by Peeps Galloway, Gossipmonger (And proud of it!)
As the sun peeks from behind perfect puffy white clouds in Southampton, the well-to-do power up with protein-laden breakfasts before their tennis dates, and send their mistresses out the back door with a wink and a promise of a shopping boon.
Not the way your summer is wrapping up?
Lucky for you, I’m on the gossip path and not swayed by conventions, electrified fences, security systems or burly bodyguards.
Speaking of security systems, the weekend party at the Rutherford estate is sailing along, as the guests spent last evening on a luxurious after-dinner cruise. Later, they peeled off to their separate quarters. Or did they?
All seemed peaceful and quiet—for about fifteen minutes. Then various lights flashed on and off all night. An alien invasion? you might wonder.
Well…I never saw a green-tinted being or even a character from the latest science fiction flick. But being your dedicated and intrepid reporter, I was able to clearly note not one, but two Balcony Encounters of the Romantic Kind. Shadowed embraces were all the rage. Especially on Planet Earth.
(I made a recent visit to Houseman’s Sporting Goods on Long Island. Bushnell has a new line of binoculars that are to die for! Mention me and receive the gossipmonger discount.)
With balmy breezes, gourmet meals and office enemies in plentiful supply, I foresee the weekend lending itself to any number of secrets revealed and liaisons consummated.
(And don’t worry if nothing interesting happens, I’ll just make it up or exaggerate!)
Keep your eye on the moon!
—Peeps
* * *
“SO HE’S A COWBOY with discipline, smooth hands and a generous heart?”
Gathered in the kitchen with her friends, Victoria considered Calla’s assessment. Over an early-morning cup of coffee, she’d told Calla and Shelby the details, including the intimate ones, about her night with Jared. “I
guess so.”
Calla refilled everyone’s mug. “I say rope him. In fact, tie him to your bed if necessary.”
Victoria frowned. “I don’t rope things, much less people.”
“I bet he can,” Shelby interjected as she pulled a tray of orange-cranberry scones out of the oven. “Let him take control. Obviously, he knows what he’s doing.”
Just because she’d had the best orgasm she could remember in a while—possibly ever—was no reason to get distracted from her purpose for the weekend. She was at the estate for her career, not her libido.
Calla added more cream to her coffee. “Speaking of ropes, did you hear Katy Heinz got into the S and M crowd?”
“No kidding?” Shelby said.
Calla nodded. “Oh, yeah. She got her…well, personal parts pierced and everything.”
Everyone winced and crossed their legs.
“Do you think that really makes sex better?” Calla asked into the silence.
Shelby buttered the scones. “It could add an element of the forbidden to a relationship that’s gone stale.”
Victoria curled her lip. “Or it could be a magnet for bacteria and various disgusting infections.”
Calla rolled her eyes. “Do you have to be so pedantic?”
“Did you have to swallow your thesaurus?” Victoria retorted.
“Pedantic means fussy or meticulous,” Calla said.
“I know what it means,” she assured her. “I just don’t understand why—”
“Scone?”
Victoria stared at the pastry Shelby was holding in front of her face, knowing her friend was attempting to head off an argument. “Thanks,” she said as she took the pastry.
Calla selected her own scone from the tray, then stared at it moodily. “Some of us are in dire need of reviving a stale relationship.”
Victoria and Shelby exchanged an awkward glance. Calla’s crush on an intense NYPD detective was the source of much speculation and frustration.
“Devin will come around,” Shelby said.
“Though I’m still not convinced you’ll want him to,” Victoria commented. “He’s so temperamental. I know this great stock trader—”
“And they’re not temperamental at all,” Shelby said sarcastically. “Devin is loyal as well as gorgeous. That’s always a good place to start.”
“He’s also protective,” Calla said. When her friends looked skeptical, she added, “He’s a cop.”
Victoria swallowed a mouthful of scone, which, like everything Shelby made, was delicious. “Seems to me he’d be better at the shooting aspects of his job, rather than the protecting and serving parts.”
Calla planted her hand on her hip. “And your cowboy would be better off with a woman whose boots were made from rattlesnake skin in Austin instead of being hand-stitched by Italian nuns in Florence.”
Victoria scowled. “He’s not my cowboy.”
Calla appeared thrilled. “Oh, so you won’t mind if I go after him?”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “Try it and die.”
Her friend leaned her forearms against the tiled island in the center of the kitchen. “Since you’re so into this guy, are you actually gonna do all the water sports instead of sitting by the pool with a low-fat smoothie and a big hat?”
“Why would I change my plans for a guy?” Victoria asked, certain the answer would be obvious as well as rhetorical.
“’Cause he’s not a stocktrader and he’s smokin’ hot,” Calla said, as if this was the obvious response.
She certainly couldn’t dispute Jared’s hotness, but didn’t see any reason to ignore her corner office ambition because of it.
“He’s also charming and considerate,” Shelby said. “And with water sports you get to see him with very few clothes on.”
“Oh, man.” Calla’s eyelashes fluttered closed, graphically proving the point. “He’s got a great chest.”
Shelby put down her scone to point. “Plus, there’s the great orgasm.”
“No telling how many more you could get in before the weekend’s out,” Calla commented.
Shelby nodded in agreement. “She’d be less cranky.”
Calla smiled. “Which might actually lead to her getting the contract.”
“Peter would appreciate her restored confidence due to physical satisfaction,” Shelby said.
Despite her annoyance at yet again being discussed as if she wasn’t present, Victoria asked, “Why would Peter care?”
As Shelby arranged the remaining scones onto a platter, she said, “Because you’re liable to smother him with a pillow in his sleep to get the contract otherwise.”
Victoria knew her goals weren’t easily obtainable, but she wasn’t irrational. Or homicidal. “You’re suggesting I’d resort to murder to win this contract?”
Her friends stared at her. “Wouldn’t surprise me,” Shelby muttered.
“Me, either,” Calla added, quickly sipping coffee.
Victoria didn’t enjoy being the butt of jokes, especially since she was the one of their band of three who was known to make the biting, sarcastic comments. What was happening to her? A few hours in the moonlight as the object of Jared’s benevolent touch, and she was losing her edge. “Are either of you actually going to offer any remotely reasonable advice on how I can enjoy Jared and keep my focus on winning this contract at the same time?”
Shelby cracked eggs and whipped them with cream in a bowl. “Contract during the day, Jared at night.”
After twenty minutes, that’s what they’d come up with? She could’ve slept later. “Really? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Calla said.
“That’s too simple to work,” Victoria insisted.
Calla nudged Shelby. “In addition to being pedantic, she also has a bizarre tendency toward the complex.” Calla grinned at Victoria. “Care to comment, Vicky?”
Keeping her tone only mildly threatening, even though she was now feeling homicidal, she wiped a dribble of coffee from the side of her mug. “I’m hovering between carnal satisfaction and career destruction. You really want to push me with the Vicky business?”
Her friends each slung an arm around her shoulder. “This weekend won’t break your career,” Shelby said.
Calla nodded. “Work might be better if you get the contract, but it’s not like Coleman PR is gonna suddenly banish you to the mail room.”
Oh, sure. They’d never do that to The Legend’s daughter.
She already had a successful career. She was respected and well paid. What more could anyone want?
And yet the pressure to go further, rise higher never seemed to ease. No matter what she accomplished, she couldn’t find the peak. If Peter beat her, she’d be beyond humiliated. She couldn’t watch her colleagues either gloat or struggle to commiserate.
So, yeah, career destruction was the best description she could come up with.
Maybe Calla would loan her a thesaurus, and she could find another metaphor, which she could use to explain to her mother why she was the weak link in the Holmes genetic line of success.
Mrs. Keegan, who’d been setting out dishes for the breakfast buffet in the dining room, bustled into the kitchen. “The Standishes are wanting breakfast.”
Shelby glanced at the clock. “The mini quiches need two more minutes. But go ahead and take the chafing dishes of French toast and bacon. I’ll follow you with the scones.”
Calla set asi
de her mug. “We’ll help.”
The four women toted dishes and trays to the buffet server in the dining room, and when they returned to the kitchen, they found Jared pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Ladies.” His gaze locked on Victoria’s. “Sleep well?”
Until I woke up sweaty and horny at 4:00 a.m., you bet, Victoria thought.
Calla poked her in the back. “Um, yeah,” Victoria said. “You?”
“Not bad.” He sipped his coffee. “Ready for some fun on the Jet Ski today?”
Oh, my… Involuntarily, Victoria licked her lips. How was it possible for a man to look so perfect wearing merely a T-shirt and jeans? “Sure, I—”
“Actually,” Calla interrupted, “V was planning to sit by the pool awhile. Maybe later.”
Victoria glared at her friend, whose expression turned smug. No doubt she was remembering the I-don’t-change-plans-for-a-man discussion.
“But let’s all go,” Calla suggested brightly, forcing Victoria to grind her teeth. “Right after breakfast. I could use a bracing swim.”
“You said you were going to take pictures,” Shelby reminded her.
Calla’s smile was gleeful. “I was, but I’ve impulsively changed my plans.”
“Oh, good grief,” Victoria grumbled.
“Have a scone,” Shelby said, offering one to Jared.
No doubt the move was an effort to head off Victoria’s impulse to clobber Calla.
Looking as though he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was, Jared bit into his scone.
Way to be seductive, Victoria.
Shelby grabbed Calla’s arm and pulled her from the room. “Let’s go check on the buffet.”
“But—”
Ignoring the protest, she closed the door behind them.
Proving his easy manner and patience were infinite, Jared propped himself against the counter next to Victoria. “V, huh? Not a very imaginative nickname.”
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