The hand on my back tightens, his thumb running along my spine as he directs me. He’s a natural, strong, commanding, and sensual. He leans over me, dipping me back, and a breathless giggle takes my breath away.
When we straighten up, our mouths are only inches from each other. His lips are like a magnet pulling me in, daring me, taunting me, promising so much. I want to lean in and taste them, but hold myself back. It’s enough just to be this near him, letting the music move us the way we moved together in bed.
His thigh slides between my legs, just slightly, but the heat that’s been building there all along burns hotter. I want to slide it further in, to rock myself against him. If I didn’t have an audience… He winds my arm around his neck, our fingers still laced together, and I slide my other hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck.
He bends his head, brushing his mouth against my throat. “Do you know you taste more delicious than those berries,” he whispers, deliberately breathing in my ear and making me shiver. “I can’t wait to eat you again tonight.”
My hips rock from side to side in response, the sensuality he stirs up in me rising to the surface overwhelming me until I can barely breathe. I want to let my head fall back, to give his mouth access to explore more of my skin, to abandon myself to him and the pleasure he wants to give.
Instead of kissing his way up my throat, the way I want him to, he runs a hand over my side and down to my hip, pulling me to him, and grinding against me. I have to grit my teeth to hold back an audible groan. He chuckles knowingly close to my ear.
How will I ever be able to forget him when this is over? How will I ever be able to dance with another man without comparing him to Ace? Or not feel a sense of longing, loss, and incompleteness now that I know what lust and passion really are? I had no idea before now. In just a single day, my entire life has been turned upside down.
When the music ends, we’re still in the center of the floor, our bodies nearly glued together. He only moves his hands from my back and hip and takes my face between his palms. Letting out a cross between a sigh and a growl, I watch him control in himself what I’m trying to control in me.
His eyes are clear and full of sincerity. He sees me. He really sees me. I can feel his passion, and not just in the pressing of his rigid cock against my thigh, but in the tension of every muscle in his body. In the way his heart races under the palm I rest on his chest.
“You’re a much better dancer than you give yourself credit for,” he whispers, his voice tight and shaking. “I bet you’re much better at everything than you give yourself credit for. I’ll have to find out what else you’re good at that you don’t think you can do.”
God, I want to kiss him. I want to get lost in the eyes that are staring so deep into mine. I want to forget everything that ever came before him and start over, seeing myself the way he sees me.
He sees me as the woman he wants. I can’t believe it. I honestly can’t believe it.
When he looks into my eyes like this, I could just about swear I’m falling in love with him.
“Everybody!”
It takes a second, but we manage to stop staring longingly at each other long enough to turn our attention to Justin, who’s standing on the platform in front of the band with his champagne glass raised high.
“Count down with me!” he calls out, beaming, lifting his wrist so he can follow his watch. “Ten…nine…eight…”
Shit. I almost forgot why we came here in the first place.
I look at Ace. He looks at me, one corner of his lush mouth curving up in a smile.
“Seven…six…five…”
Everybody’s counting down but us. I don’t know that I can find my voice, or raise it loud enough to be heard over the rest of the room.
“Four…three…two…”
I want to be with this man. It makes no sense, it might make me look ridiculous and it might be an insult to him, to his profession, but I don’t give a damn. I want him. I want to keep feeling the way he makes me feel.
“One…”
The room erupts, men and women falling into each other’s arms as streamers and confetti fly through the air. There’s a lot of cheering, a lot of hollering, and a lot of kissing.
The band breaks out into “Auld Lang Syne” and a bunch of the guests begin singing along, drunkenly and with gusto.
And then, there’s us. Just looking at each other. Lost in each other’s eyes. We might as well be the only people in the room. In the world.
“Happy New Year,” I mouth, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear me even if I raised my voice.
“Happy New Year, sweet Dawn.” He pulls me in, eyes searching mine, and my heart just about stops. I can hardly stand it. Is this really happening to me? Things like this don’t happen to me. Men like him—perfect, sexy, masculine, rich as hell—don’t come into the lives of women like me.
And if they do, they sure as heck don’t want to hang around for long. Maybe just a drunken one night stand.
But here he is, holding me, and staring into my eyes while he strokes my back with those strong, skillful hands of his and God, I think I’m am falling in love with him. By the time he leans down to brush his lips against mine, teasing and tempting, I’ve fallen all the way down.
Chapter 18
Dawn
We don’t say much in the car.
What is there to say after a night like the one we’ve just had? It’s past one o’clock, which for me might as well be dawn. My feet hurt and I’m tired.
But it’s more than physical fatigue, much more. I’m all mixed up so it’s a good thing all that champagne went to my head, or else I might start overthinking and that’s probably the worst thing I can do. I always end up making a mess of things when I do that.
He’s so solid. So strong. So steady. So real. My head rests against his shoulder, his arm around me with his hand cupping my thigh. It’s the most natural gesture in the world, the sort of thing he might do if we knew each other for years. A simple touch. The reminder that he’s here.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, kissing the top of my head. His lips linger there. Another simple, gentle gesture, but the sort of thing that makes a girl feel wanted. Cherished.
The sort of thing I always wanted James to do. He never would. Thank God, he didn’t or I would never have had the chance to experience this. Even briefly. I know now why they say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved.
Just like he never would’ve asked me how I was feeling after a party.
“A little sleepy,” I admit. “But good.”
“Happy?”
“As happy as I can imagine feeling.”
“I think we can do better than that.”
“We can?” I love the way he uses the word we, even as I tell myself not to read too much into it. I shouldn’t. I can’t. I wish my heart would listen. Stupid heart, always rushing into things that only gets it kicked around and bruised.
He shrugs. I feel the muscles moving under his clothes when he does. “Why should we ever just stop at as good as? Why not try to do better? If I had the chance, I’d be certain to spend every day making damn sure you were happier than you could imagine.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. Sexy. Very sexy. “Something tells me, from what you’ve told me before, that you haven’t spent much time imagining what could be.”
That’s the truth.
“I guess I’m setting the bar pretty low then, huh?” I grin, glancing up at him. “I mean, if you had the chance to make sure I was happier than I could imagine, and I never imagined much…”
“I’ve never been one for just clearing the bar,” he murmurs.
Immediately I remember the way he treated me last night, how good he was to me, how he didn’t settle for just good enough.
“I hope you don’t expect me to drop you off at home tonight.” There’s no question there. No wondering if I want to go home with him. Because he knows I want to. I need to. If
he were to drop me off at home right now, I’d cry myself to sleep out of raging disappointment.
“No. I don’t expect you to.” My voice is quiet, but there is something mysterious throbbing in it.
Chapter 19
Dawn
We’re hardly through the front door before he’s on me.
I don’t even have the chance to catch my breath. He pins me to the closed door with his body before crushing my mouth with his own. His tongue thrusts inside, sweeping around my lips and sliding against my tongue, and I have no choice, but to clutch his shoulders to keep from hitting the floor.
Sounds I’ve never heard coming from me or coming from anybody are coming from me right now, from deep inside my throat as he kisses away every bit of reason left in my brain. His hands slide down my sides, gliding over the satin. It’s his turn to groan, fingers tightening on my hips before he pulls them to him to grind against me.
I wrap my leg around his thigh, the dress sliding up to my hip, and he explores my skin with such a skillful touch it makes my knees shake. His deep grunt, much of the sound lost in my mouth as we kiss, tells me what the feel of my body does to him.
And that only pushes me higher, makes me more desperate to feel him, taste him. I work the suit jacket over his arms, letting my hands take in the bulge of his muscles through the thin dress shirt, before winding his tie around my hand and pulling him in for another deep, long kiss.
“Mmm…” he groans, pulling back, a slight smile touching the corners of his lips.
“I love a man in a tie,” I groan. “I’ve been wanting to grab you by the tie since the moment I first saw you tonight.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind for later,” he promises before lowering his head to run his tongue over my throat. I close my eyes, as sensation takes over rational thought once again. I just want to feel. I want to go as far as he’s willing to take me.
His hair is so thick. I run my fingers through it, sighing, whimpering encouragement as his hands find my breasts and squeeze before opening the dress, freeing them.
“Oh, God!” I cry out, arching my back when his tongue swirls in a hot, wet circle around my nipple before teasing it into a tight point. He does the same with the other, almost growling possessively like a male animal fighting over a female, and oh, my God, I melt inside. He’s as into this as I am.
It’s enough to drive me insane.
When he cups my butt with both hands and lifts, I hop up and wrap my legs around his waist. I allow him to carry me to the darkened bedroom. We fall onto the bed.
I wriggle under him liking the feeling of being able to relax against the bed and feel the weight of his body as he settles over me, and love being able to focus on the way he feels on top of me, the way his muscles flex under my hands while he continues his slow, wet exploration of everything he can get his hands, or mouth on. He working the dress up around my waist.
“What’s this?” he asks looking at my thong.
“Do you like it?”
He bends his head and licks my navel. “Yeah, I like it.”
I gasp.
“Do you rub fresh fruit on your skin or something?” he asks.
I still. “No, why?”
“Because you taste fucking incredible,” he breathes. “Even better than I remember. We should’ve stayed here tonight. I could have eaten you all night.”
I bite my lip so the smartass comment which I know would only come out sounding awkward doesn’t get out, but when his tongue sweeps along the inside of my thigh, my hips leave the bed and a guttural cry leaves my lips. He chuckles, taking the opportunity to hook his fingers around the waistband of my thong and work it down over my thighs.
I raise my legs, allowing him to remove my underwear. He parts my thighs, settling between them with a wicked smile. “Your pussy is so wet it’s driving me crazy,” he growls before inhaling deeply of my scent, then burying his face between my legs.
I’m gone.
There’s nothing left of me but a writhing, screaming, begging animal. I never felt comfortable being loud before. I never really had a reason to, either. There’s freedom in letting loose, letting him know how good he makes me feel so he’ll keep making me feel good because yes, yes. As long as this never ends. Yes, I want more.
He holds my thighs steady before flicking the tip of his tongue over the tip of my clit and I lose it completely, riding his face as I come with a shuddering, broken cry. But he doesn’t stop. I can’t take any more. He’s going to kill me, doesn’t he know he’s going to kill me if he doesn’t stop?
But I don’t die, and the pulsing spasms don’t end. They go on and on, spreading through me, setting off explosions behind my closed eyelids. When will it end? I don’t know. I don’t know if I want it to. It keeps going, rolling through me, and my voice eventually cracks and breaks from the strain as my body stops arching and finally falls back against the mattress in an exhausted heap and Ace comes up for air.
“My God,” he groans, as though he’s the one whose entire body just shattered from the inside out. “You have no idea how sexy you look when you come.”
“Really?” I mumble, my brain still mush.
“So… fucking… hot…” He punctuates each word with a kiss to my inner thighs, then raises himself up on his knees and unbuttons his shirt. “Lose the dress.”
I do as I’m told, even though my hands are a little shaky and I’m still halfway to the moon. He has no idea what he just did to me feels like, obviously, or he’d not be in such a hurry.
His cock springs free as he lowers his pants and shorts, and he unrolls a condom before sliding into me without a word. I’m still coming down from the longest, biggest orgasm of my life, so the first thrust is yet another explosion of pure sensation.
He doesn’t take his time, and I don’t want him to. I want him to ride me, to let loose everything he’s been holding back all night. There’s something primitive in his thrusts, in the way he grunts every time he sinks himself deep into my pussy. I let the animal in me meet the animal in him, raking my nails down his rippling back and smiling when he hisses in pain and pleasure, all mixed up together.
He must like it, because his thrusts speed up and his breathing becomes harder, more ragged, his rhythm already getting lost in the frenzy of his passion. All I can do is hold on, my muscles tightening around him as we both approach the edge.
“That’s right… come for me again…” He looks down at me, grinding now, teeth gritted. “Come for me, Dawn.”
If I wasn’t going to before, I’m about to now. I start to feel that familiar pressure in my core, the tightening that signals something big is about to happen. I go with it, working my hips to thrust against him as he thrusts into me. Our bodies crash together, harder and faster, our eyes locked as we push each other the edge and beyond.
Just before I close my eyes, I see him throw back his head. His victorious cry mingles with mine. Mixed in with my pleasure, not to mention the smell and feel and taste of him as he collapses on top of me, is knowing that we came through from the other side together.
Our groans quiet to heavy breathing, which finally quiets to nothing more than the occasional sigh before he rolls over, onto his back. “You bring out something in me,” he whispers, his voice touching something deep inside me.
I turn my head to the side to look at him. God, he’s beautiful. In the dim street light coming through the half-drawn blinds, his body is perfection. I can make out every line, every plane, every muscle standing out against his taut skin. “I know what you mean,” I breathe.
“That wasn’t the long, slow session I wanted to give you tonight,” he laments. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stop myself.”
“Do you honestly think you have anything to apologize for, after what you just did to me?” I ask tiredly. The session took every last ounce of energy out of me. I can barely keep my eyes open anymore.
“I spent the entire night imagining your body under that dress… getting t
he chance to finally touch and taste you was too much to resist. I guess you bring out the greedy little boy in me.”
There was nothing boyish about what he did to me, and nothing like what any other man has ever done. I doubt he’s even capable of a mediocre performance.
“Happy New Year,” he says with a soft chuckles. He pulls my body close to his before wrapping me up in his strong arms.
“I can’t wait to see what the rest of it has in store,” I murmur, already half-asleep as my eyes slide shut.
Chapter 20
Dawn
I wake up slowly, one part of my body at a time. I can feel the silky sheets against my skin, the pillows beneath my head. I hear him breathing behind me. The warmth of his body is evident on my back. He’s close, but not touching.
Gosh, and I thought I would wake up in my own bed for a moment there. I truly did. How could last night have been real? How can anything that happened actually be real? I didn’t even know I was capable of multiple orgasms, or extended orgasms, or whatever the hell happened to me last night.
But it is real, because here I am. In his bed. For the second morning in a row.
He stirs behind me, one arm creeping over my side. “Good morning,” he whispers against the back of my neck. He sounds like a man completely content with his choices in life. Which include me. Needless to say, I’m okay with this.
Which is why I wriggle a little against his body. “Good morning.”
His low laugh stirs the hair on my neck. “Careful now. I don’t know if you want any of this before I’m cleaned up. You made me work up a little bit of a sweat last night, remember.”
“What, I can’t brush up against you without you thinking it’s a come-on?” I ask, all innocence. “You need to clean up that dirty mind of yours, sir.”
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