Hot Texas Nights

by Janice Maynard

  Everything about this evening had left him on edge. Aria’s incandescent sexuality in that damn dress. Ryder Currin’s inexplicably bothersome remarks. Dancing with Aria for hours, when the band played on and on and everything seemed possible.

  Ethan knew himself. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses. He had become wealthy as a young man by focusing on his work and taking calculated risks in business. That same philosophy didn’t extend into his personal life, because it didn’t work.

  He wouldn’t change who he was. Because to do so meant the possibility of hurting the very people he had sworn to protect.

  When they made it home, surprisingly in one piece given his fractured mental state, Aria didn’t even bother putting on her shoes. No one was in the lobby to see them except a sleepy-eyed Claude.

  The old man perked up when Aria smiled at him. Ethan slipped the guy a folded hundred. “Thanks for all you do.”

  “No worries, Mr. Barringer. It’s been quiet tonight.”

  Aria kissed the old man’s cheek. “I took a bunch of pictures on my phone. I’ll text them to you tomorrow, so your wife can see all the decorations.”

  Claude beamed. “That’s mighty kind of you.”

  She grinned. “I would do it now, but this marble floor is cold on my feet. Good night, Claude.”

  Ethan hurried her into the elevator before she could change her mind. Without her shoes, she looked tiny beside him. The juxtaposition of the black dress against her creamy white skin was a stunning contrast. She still wore her above-the-elbow gloves.

  When she began to take them off, he intervened. “Not yet,” he said huskily. “I have plans for those.”

  Her eyes widened and a pale pink flush bloomed on her cheeks. “I see.”

  For half a second he pondered pressing the button that would halt the elevator. But the damn thing had a security camera. Even if he tossed something over the lens, there were other residents in the building. That particular fantasy would have to stay in the realm of his imagination.

  On the top floor, the bell dinged quietly, and the doors whooshed open. Ethan managed to fumble only slightly with the key.

  Aria stood beside him, not saying a word.

  In the foyer, he kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys on the table. Aria dropped her shoes beside his.

  He rotated his shoulders, suddenly feeling the fatigue of being “on” the entire evening. It hadn’t been a relaxed social occasion for Aria and him. They had been working...mostly.

  “Do you want a snack?” he asked. “Something to drink?”

  She curled her arms around his waist and rested her cheek over his heart. “No. I’m good.”

  He pulled a few pins loose and stroked her hair, battling a tsunami of conflicting emotions. “I wish you didn’t have to go home tomorrow.”

  She went still. “Actually,” she said, her voice small and quiet, “I’ve decided to stay over one more day. I have a couple of committee meetings with one of the charities I support, so I made a reservation at the Hilton for tomorrow night. I didn’t want to be in your way.”

  One more night. A reprieve. “Don’t be silly,” he said lightly. “You know I want you here. We’ll go out for a nice dinner after work. Just the two of us. How does that sound?”

  Aria unfastened his bow tie and left the ends undone. “Sounds like fun. And now?”

  He scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall. “Now the Big Bad Wolf is going to have his way with you.”

  * * *

  Aria clung to Ethan’s strong neck, feeling giddy and excited and hopeful. She wasn’t a tiny woman, but he carried her as if she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. Though he had shaved before the gala, already his sculpted jaw showed evidence of a dark shadow.

  In his suite, she expected him to deposit her on the bed right away. But he took her by surprise, setting her gently on her feet. “First things first,” he said hoarsely.

  She honestly had no idea what he meant until he fetched a small chair and placed it in front of her. Then he sat at her knees.

  “Ummm, Ethan?”

  A shiver worked its way down her bare spine. Beneath the stiffened bodice of her gown, her nipples tightened painfully.

  He took her hips in his hands, leaned back in the chair and smiled. “We have all night. I don’t plan to waste a minute of it.”

  “Some people sleep during the night,” she pointed out. In case he had forgotten.

  Ethan shrugged. “Sleep is overrated.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” She couldn’t help the quiver of anticipation in the blurted question.

  He heard her arousal. And clearly, he liked it.

  “Don’t worry, Aria. You’re in good hands.”

  She fidgeted, her bare toes curling into the thick pile of his bedroom carpet. “I’ve been on my feet all evening.” She threw in a pout for good measure. “I’d really like to lie down.”

  Ethan’s amused grin told her he saw through her attempt to take control of the moment. “Sorry, but we’re just getting started. The bed can wait until later.”

  “I thought you wanted to have sex.”

  Heat flared in his gaze. His cheekbones flushed as his chest heaved with one sharp inhalation. “Patience, Aria. Patience.”

  It almost seemed as if he was giving himself that advice, as well. His hands shook visibly as he spanned her waist. He leaned forward, resting his forehead just below her breasts.

  She had to touch him. It was impossible not to. Lightly, tentatively, she stroked the curves of his ears with her thumbs. The satin of her gloves made the gesture sensual, erotic.

  “I love your hair,” she whispered, running her fingers through the thick strands.

  Ethan shuddered. He bent and slid his hands beneath the frothy skirt of her gown, finding her bare legs. Carefully, he stroked from her heels to her ankles to the backs of her knees. Erogenous zones she’d never discovered flared into life, turning her into a raging cauldron of hormones.

  She expected him to move north, but all he did was play with the sensitive bend of her legs. It was the most diabolical thing she could have imagined. Her fingers clenched in his hair so hard he protested. “Easy, my sweet. Don’t make me bald before my time.”

  Inside her head she was begging him. Do something, for heaven’s sake. Get on with it. But Ethan was not to be rushed.

  At last, he released her skirt and sat back, breathing heavily. He shrugged out of his tux jacket, tossed it aside and rolled up his sleeves. His bow tie still dangled.

  “Now?” she asked hopefully.

  “Now, what?”

  “The bed?”

  He cocked his head, resting his hands, palms flat, on his hard thighs. His legs were splayed, drawing attention to the large bulge where the seams of his trousers met. “Have you always been so impatient?”

  The mocking taunt was laden with sexual challenge. Her sex clenched. Moisture dewed her folds, even as her body ached for his possession. “What do you want from me?” she whispered. She would do anything to move things along...to get them from point A to point B. Over his shoulder she could see the pristine bed just waiting for them.

  Ethan’s gaze narrowed. “Put your hands behind your neck.”

  She blinked at him, trying to decipher the command, looking for hidden meanings. It was difficult to link her fingers, because the fabric of her gloves was so slippery.

  The new posture thrust her breasts up and out, nearly spilling them from the lace-covered bodice. Ethan stood and traced the deep valley where the dress dipped in front, his touch marking her like a brand. “You like making men drool, don’t you?”

  She shook her head defiantly. “Not men. Only you.” She maintained the position he had requested. Now Ethan moved a step closer. He reached behind her head and manacled her wrists with one big hand. T
hen he kissed her roughly, letting her feel the scrape of his teeth, the rough pull of his kiss as he suckled her bottom lip.

  Whimpering, she leaned into him, wanting desperately to be naked, wanting him to be naked, too. Ethan drew the kiss out endlessly, making love to her mouth, tormenting both of them.

  When she thought she absolutely couldn’t bear it any longer, he sat down again.

  This time, he slid his arms around her waist.

  She felt him reach for the tab of her zipper and slowly begin to lower it. There wasn’t much real estate to cover. The zipper started almost at the base of her spine and was only about six inches long.

  When she felt the fabric begin to give, she clutched the bodice to her chest, oddly shy.

  Ethan’s hands settled on the curves of her bottom. He murmured something beneath his breath, something she didn’t quite catch. Aria closed her eyes, almost mad with wanting him.

  Gently, inexorably, he began to drag the dress from her grasp. Gravity was a powerful force. Moments later, the gown pooled at her feet.

  He nudged her legs. She stepped free of the luxuriant fabric.

  When nothing happened after that, she opened her eyes.

  Ethan had slumped back in the chair, looking as if he’d been poleaxed. “My God,” he said reverently. “You’re incredible.”

  “Don’t, Ethan.” The words made her uncomfortable. She was glad he found her sexy but she wanted so much more than that.

  Her protest made him frown. “Shall I tell you what I see?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I see hair as soft and golden as sunshine on an early summer morning. Tiny black studs that make me want to nibble your ears. A graceful neck and a delicate strand of jet beads that drape between two perfect breasts. A body that’s both soft and strong and beckons a man to feast until he can’t indulge anymore. And you wearing those damned sexy gloves and tiny undies that are probably against the law in several states... Hell, Aria, you could be a centerfold.”

  “I don’t want to be a centerfold.”

  “What do you want?”

  She sucked in a startled breath. There would never be a more perfect opening than that. But fear kept her quiet. “I want you,” she said. “Just you.”

  Without waiting for him to respond, she leaned down and unbuttoned his shirt. Ethan was breathing heavily, his gaze barely focused. Perhaps the fact that her breasts were in his face might have had something to do with that.

  When she dragged his shirt from his pants, he lurched to his feet. “Come on,” he said, the words slurred, as if he had been drinking. “Don’t take off a single other thing. I want to make love to you just like this.”

  They walked to the bed hand in hand. He lifted Aria without ceremony and tumbled her onto the mattress. Then he removed the rest of his clothing and joined her. They lay facing each other, side by side.

  She had seen the man naked more than once now. But his body never failed to take her breath away. It was a man’s body. Broad-shouldered, muscular, powerfully sexual. His shaft thrust upward against his flat abdomen proudly. Aria curled her fingers around him.

  Ethan stared.

  Even Aria had to admit that the sight of her glove-clad hand against his sex was erotic. She used her thumb on the underside of his erection to stroke him. Slowly, she was beginning to learn what he liked. She no longer felt quite as tentative, nor as naive.

  Ethan muttered something indecipherable and rolled to his back. As Aria leaned over him, her necklace shifted, draping around one breast, the glass beads cold against her heated skin. In that moment, she felt sensual, sexual. As if she had the power to bring him to his knees.

  Though the prospect held a certain appeal, what she wanted was for him to admit he couldn’t live without her.

  Their gazes locked, his glazed with hunger, hers guarding a secret longing.

  Ethan cupped the back of her neck with one big hand, pulling her down for a kiss. “The first time I saw you tonight,” he muttered, “wearing those gloves, I nearly swallowed my tongue. You’re exquisite, Aria. Every man’s fantasy. I want to make love to you a million different ways, but my patience is eroding. If I don’t get inside you soon, I might actually die.”

  His rueful smile tugged at her heart. He was so damn adorable and sexy.

  She squeezed his shaft gently. “Who knew you had a glove fetish?”

  He closed his eyes, groaning. “I didn’t know,” he muttered. “But now it’s all I can think about.”

  “I’m here. In your bed. How do you want me tonight, sir?”

  He lifted one eyelid, visibly intrigued. “You’re offering me carte blanche? That’s brave of you.”

  Her sex tightened at the implied threat. “I trust you, Ethan. I always have.”

  Without warning, he sat up and rolled off the bed. “Don’t move.”

  In moments, he was back, carrying a handful of neckties.

  Her mouth went dry. “What are those for?”

  His wicked grin set off tiny explosions of arousal deep in her pelvis. “I think you know. Move up in the bed. And stretch your arms over your head. It’s time to see whether you mean what you say.”

  The most incredible mixture of emotions washed through her body. Excitement. Uncertainty. Resolve.

  Ethan wasted no time in executing his plan. His bed was a massive mahogany affair that had low pillars at each corner, sturdy enough for a man to use as hitching posts.

  With an economy of motion Aria had to admire, despite her position, Ethan took her left wrist, knotted one of his ties around it, and then secured the other end to the bed. He repeated the process with her right hand. In less than three minutes, she was bound and at his mercy.

  When she saw him glance back at her ankles, she shivered. “No. Please.”

  His expression softened. “Fair enough. But only because I want you more mobile than that when I take you.” He stared at her, his gaze hot and getting hotter by the second.

  Aria tried to swallow. She felt incredibly vulnerable. Did he understand what she was offering him? Did he understand how special this was for her? She was giving him everything.

  Ethan sprawled beside her and traced a circle around one puckered nipple. “I can’t decide where to start.”

  “Well, pick a place,” she said.

  Seventeen

  Ethan grinned. The snap in her voice told him she was as turned on as he was and eager for the finale.

  Still, he had to linger a moment more to enjoy the picture she made, sprawled with abandon in his bed. He moved between her legs and took one ankle in each hand. “Don’t try to hide from me, Aria. You said this was my fantasy. I expect full compliance.”

  Her eyes widened. Her cheeks had been flushed before. Now the tide of rosy red spread down her throat and to her collarbone. Her chest heaved. “What am I supposed to do all tied up?”

  “I’ll make it easy,” he said. “Close your eyes. I’ll do all the work.”

  Her hands flexed against their bindings and she closed her eyes.

  His sex swelled. Playtime was over. He simply didn’t have it in him to wait any longer.

  But first, he would pleasure her.

  Starting at the delicate arches of her feet, he pressed kisses against her warm, scented skin, moving up along her legs and thighs and finally into the valley where she wept for him. With a few well-placed flicks of his tongue, she cried out and climaxed, whispering his name.

  He left her only a moment, grabbed the protection he needed, rolled it on and reclaimed his position.

  “I’m going to take you now. Hard and fast and long. Tell me you want me. But keep your eyes closed.”

  She arched her back, bit her lip and nodded. “I want you,” she said faintly. “Please. Now.”

  He went forward onto his elbows and probed her soft, wet sex, filling her inch by inch. The fi
t was tight, the sensation akin to fiery bliss. When he thought she had taken all of him she could, she canted her hips and took him deeper.

  He cried out her name, desperately trying to hold back the wall of rushing pleasure that threatened to drown him, to sweep him away to a place he’d never been willing to go.

  Aria’s body gripped him, drained him, made him weak. He was sorry now that her hands were tied. He wanted to feel her fingers in his hair when he came. But it was too late now. He was teetering on the edge.

  His vision went black. Aria. Aria. He pounded into her. Mindless. Wild with hunger and need and something more.

  And then the thread snapped. He came violently, endlessly. Slumping on top of her, he felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes.

  Something had happened to him. Despite the fact that Aria was tied up and at his mercy, he was the one who felt raw and vulnerable.

  Eons later when he thought he could move, he untied her hands clumsily and pulled the covers over both of them, wanting nothing more than to sleep until morning.

  Aria curled into his side, one of her legs trapped between his thighs.

  She stroked his chest. “I love you, Ethan.” The words were clear and unapologetic. “I truly believe you and I have what it takes to make a go of it. You aren’t your father. You’re a wonderful, honorable man. Please tell me you love me, too.”

  If she had doused him with a bucket of icy water, the shock and dismay couldn’t have been any greater. He rolled away from her, stumbled out of bed and wrapped the sheet around his waist. “Why the hell do women always have to ruin a good thing?”

  They hadn’t bothered to turn off the bedside lamp. He had plenty of light to see how Aria’s face drained of color. How all the joy and peace and contentment fled, leaving her expression devastated and dull.

  “Surely you don’t mean that. I love you, Ethan. I think I’ve always loved you, but for the longest time I told myself I had to get over you... I had to move on. But then you dropped back into my life, and it was perfect. It was magic. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make babies with you. I want to grow old with you.”