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Page 8
“Because.” Abruptly he lowered his head. “Because,” he breathed the word against her mouth. “I want you to know what’s coming.”
He crushed his mouth over hers, depriving her of the opportunity to protest, denying her the chance to retreat or resist. Gently, he probed her lips apart with his tongue, before settling more firmly. With a satisfied sigh, he slipped his tongue inside to explore the soft moistness of her mouth.
Releasing her mouth, he rubbed his thumb slowly across the slick moisture on her bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to do that, too,” he whispered, “among other…lecherous things.”
He steadied her as she rose up on her toes and brushed her mouth against his lips. Daringly, she touched her tongue to the seam of his lip, then slowly retreated.
“You’re killing me, sweetheart. We better stop while we’re still ahead.”
“I’ve wanted to do that, too. You’re so sexy,” she breathed.
He cupped her bottom and dragged her against his hard arousal. “This is sexy,” he groaned, “me, hard, against you.” He took her mouth for the second time, molded it, and made love to it. “You’re about the prettiest, sweetest thing I ever saw,” he whispered when he released her. “You go to my head like a fine blended whiskey.”
Jace kissed her again. This time, he took her mouth in a deeper, carnal possession, a slow meshing of lips and a thorough mating of tongues that left them both breathless. She sighed and nestled against him when he freed her mouth, content. There was only action and reaction and both were hot as the fires of Hades.
Her fingers inched into the soft hair at his nape and she cuddled closer.
He released her, took a moment to tug off his boots, and then pulled her back to his arms. “I want you,” he said quietly, searching her eyes. “But I think it’s best we get control here and wait awhile. Give you time to sober up a bit.”
She felt the glide of his fingertips up the bare length of her arm. Slowly, she unfastened the narrow ties at the back of her neck and released them. The top of the dress drifted to her waist. She saw him close his eyes, swallow hard, and release a pent-up breath. “You don’t want to see me?” She bit her lip and started to pull the dress back in place.
His hands stilled. “I do.” He drank in the sight of her breasts, reached out, but dropped his hand at his side without touching her. “I think it’s best if I don’t.” He tugged her dress back in place and tied the straps behind her neck. Lifting her into his arms, he turned and crossed the expanse of the living room to the master bedroom. “I think it’s way past time you were tucked into bed.”
“Kiss me,” she demanded and pressed tiny, fairy-light kisses against his throat.
“Ah, sweetheart,’” he breathed. “You have no idea what a delicious temptation you are. I want to do so much more than kiss you, darlin’, but I’ll wait.”
She looped her arms trustingly around his neck. Her lips nuzzled his chest and throat.
“You have no idea what a temptation you are,” she replied.
Startled, he laughed. “You’re something, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Surprise filled her eyes. “Not really.” She touched her tongue to the skin below his ear. “You taste like…wonderful. I want to taste all of you.”
Passion coiled deep inside his belly like a red-hot whip. He stumbled at her whispered words. His gaze dipped to hers. Did she have any idea what she’d just implied? Just how a man should take a statement like that?
Her hand slid up to the Stetson. She drew it off his head and dropped it on the floor.
“Your pupils are so dark and constricted, they’re nearly invisible.”
His chest rose and shuddered with each ragged breath he drew.
Fuck!
He might as well be standing on the rim of a precipice, speculating as to which direction he should go to keep from toppling over the edge. On one side, he wanted her so badly, his control slipped with everything she said and did to him. On the other side, there was the right thing to do. He knew damn well she was too drunk to decide to have sex.
He couldn’t do that to her or any woman.
He slanted a glance at her. Did she have any idea how she made him ache? He felt her body quiver in response to his gaze on her and suspected he looked every bit as feral as he felt. His cock was so damned hard he was nearly ready to crash to his knees and beg her to give him relief with her beautiful mouth.
He stumbled his way down the hall. He wanted to taste her beautiful breasts, hunt out the satiny folds hidden behind whatever scrappy piece of underwear she wore, and search out every secret, forbidden crevice. He craved her flavor on his tongue.
Christ, he yearned to be inside her, so damn deep inside her, when he came, his seed burst into the very heart of her womb. His heart bumped painfully in an unsteady rhythm. Ragged little bursts of air escaped his mouth. Drawing a full breath was impossible. Heat pulsed through him, feeding the fire, building it into a roaring inferno.
She nuzzled his throat again and he lost all grip on reality. Her scent coiled through his body and wrapped around his heart. No matter what happened between them or didn’t, he knew he was never going to be the same again.
His chest felt heavy, as if his lungs were filled with fluid. The urgency of his need overwhelmed him. Overwhelmed him—
“Make love to me,” she whispered. “Tonight—” her breath caught on a little hitch.
Make love?
No. He didn’t make love. He had sex. Cold, ruthless sex, just like Duel said.
“Hold me? Love me?”
He paused at the side of the bed and smothered a groan. Hold her? Yep. He could do that. Love her? He looked down at her knowing he’d have to refuse. Damn, he was going to have to do the right thing. If the lady was looking for love, if she wanted more than tonight, she’d picked the wrong cowboy. His body rebelled at the thought of not making her his.
She laid her hand along his cheek, searched his gaze. “Just for tonight, I need to be held.”
Just for tonight?
Relief swamped him. One night, he could handle. One night was all he ever handled. Yeah, he could do a single night.
He wasn’t so sure about her.
“I want to make love to you, lovely lady. I do.”
Christ, what was he saying? Make love to her? Oh, Jesus, he was in way over his head.
“I want to be inside you,” he breathed hoarsely. “Sweet Christ, I want to be inside you. And if I believed for one moment you wanted that too, I’d have you stripped and flat on your back in a second. In less time than that, I’d be buried so damn deep inside you, our souls would touch.”
Her gaze fastened on him, followed a trickle of sweat as it spilled a lazy path to his brow then slid past his temple, annoying. She licked her lips, all her attention focused on the droplet of moisture making its way to his throat. He held his breath—ached for her to catch it with the tip of her tongue.
Her little pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He wanted to feel the dampness of it lick over his body. “Yeah, I want to be inside you, darlin’. You wouldn’t know where you began and I ended,” he said roughly. “But damn it, damn it, you’re not sober enough to realize what you’re saying, let alone doing. I don’t want regrets in the morning, sweetheart, for either of us.”
“You don’t want me?” She sounded a bit forsaken, as if she’d never offered her body to a man before, and the one time she did, he refused her.
He hesitated. Impossible. His imagination was playing tricks on him. A woman as lovely as she was had surely had many lovers. And she was somehow involved with Smitt Davis—that told him plenty. He searched her eyes for a hint of regret. Of uncertainty. He saw only need. Desire—for him. Her need matched his and she’d said, just for tonight. His body was willing, if only his conscious wasn’t rearing its head and biting him on the ass.
“I want you, honey, so badly it’s killing me. I ache for you.”
A dreamy smile settled on her lips. “All rig
ht then.”
It was his turn to be startled.
All right then? That was it?
He turned back the covers with one hand and sat her on the edge of the king-sized bed. “Sweetheart, I—”
“No regrets, Jace,” she breathed. “Love me tonight. For tonight, make all the pain go away, all the doubts and loneliness…the awful memories. Give me new memories. I need you.”
He hunkered down in front of her and brushed an errant curl behind her ear. “Baby, I–I don’t think you know what you want…God…don’t do this to me, sweetheart.”
“Ssh.” She pressed her fingertips across his lips. “Don’t. No regrets. Just love me. Please?”
He groaned and touched his mouth to her palm. “I’m trying here, sweetheart, but you make it damned hard for a man to be noble.”
His chest heaved. He felt raw and ragged inside, as if his soul had been chopped into a million pieces and he hadn’t been put back together quite whole. Hell. He was only a man, a simple man, as vulnerable to need as the next human soul. As lonely.
“There’s only one way I can think of for you not to have regrets in the morning.” He reached for the phone, made a simple call and waited.
He wanted her desperately. To hell with it, he was going to make it happen. After speaking into the phone, he returned it to its cradle and released a deep, pent-up breath.
“No regrets,” he whispered quietly.
And tugged her closer.
* * * *
Penthouse Suite
Saturday 1:00 a.m.
Sweet. Tempting. She was all the things he wanted in a woman. Jace stared at the woman sitting there on the edge of his bed and could no longer deny himself the pleasure of her body. Walking away wasn’t an option, not anymore.
With unsteady hands, he reached behind her and untied the straps of her dress and tugged it over the top of her head. Inside, he felt like soft butter. He moaned and brushed his hands over her firm breasts, gently cupped them, slowly rubbed his thumb tips across each nipple until they stood up and silently begged for his mouth.
Jesus, to have this woman, he’d jumped in with both feet. His judgment, shit, he could no longer claim he had any judgment. It was way off kilter.
A startled hiss slipped from her lips as he wrapped his mouth and tongue around one nipple and sucked deeply. Releasing it, he blew gently, drying the moisture from the tight, little peak.
His gaze slid over her, lingering on the frothy, purple lace thong she wore. The lacy, black garters holding the sheer, smoky hose in place were the sexiest things he’d ever seen. She was ultra feminine, exquisitely female, right down to the delicate, silver heels on her feet. He dragged his knuckles lightly across her stomach.
She shifted restlessly beneath his stroking fingers. “Please.”
“I intend to please you, darlin’. Lay back, sweetheart.” He lowered his head, traced his tongue down her stomach and dipped inside the delicate pink navel. He swirled his tongue inside it and sipped, as though it were a delicate flower filled with nectar. Tracing his tongue back up her stomach, he paused at the tender undersides of her breasts before moving on to the tight, tempting buds.
She cried out as he drew a turgid peak into his mouth. She arched into the heat of his mouth. Her nails clawed at the sheets helplessly. A tiny groan escaped her. Drawing her nipple deeper inside his mouth, he scraped the responsive tip with the edge of his teeth. Wantonly, she twisted on the sheets. Her body silently begged him not to stop, silently invited his mouth to feast.
He released the nipple and tore at the snaps on his shirt and flung it aside. His attention fully focused on her, his gaze never left her as he fumbled with the metal button on his jeans, struggled with the zipper and tossed them aside.
She sat straight up in bed and exhaled slowly. Her eyes widened. She touched her pink tongue to her lips. “Uh…oh, my God! That…will not fit,” she said faintly.
He glanced down, then returned his gaze to her. “Sure it will,” he said grinning.
“No, no it won’t. It’s too thick. Too long. Too…too everything.”
“We’ll see.” Oh, hell yeah, it was going to fit perfectly. He intended to make damned certain of it.
* * * *
Kaycee licked her dry lips. He was built as powerfully as any stallion she ever saw behind a mare. Her lips parted, but no further sounds of protests came. Before she could voice further doubts, he sat down beside her. Lightly, he stroked her lips with a fingertip, rubbed a calloused hand across her nipples. He plucked at her nipples until they once again stood at attention.
Then he eased her back and climbed on top of her. The maneuver was so casual he was on her before she realized his intent. His big body covered her smaller one. She’d never in all her life felt so slight or so delicate.
Her breath caught as he dipped his head and drew a pebbled nipple into his mouth, suckled it until it tightened in response, then he tasted the other one, bringing it to the same tight peak of need. His questing fingers trailed lightly up and down her stomach, traced the delicate line of her ribs. He lingered on the concave of her abdomen and gently kneaded her skin.
“You’re so soft,” he whispered against her throat. “Lovely.”
She whimpered. Her body arched off the bed as he settled on his knees between her thighs and slid the scrap of black silk neatly off her. The thong drifted to the floor, along with the black garters and silky hose, leaving her as naked and vulnerable as he was.
His burning gaze feasted on her, adored her, and settled on the narrow patch of pale curls that was all she’d left after waxing. Before she could guess his intentions, he kissed her there. His tongue dipped, stroked, explored and then barely touched her at all. He sipped lightly, as delicately as a hummingbird at a flower. Tiny currents of electricity sizzled through her, seared her blood where he skimmed his tongue along the slick folds.
“Oooh.” Her body surged against his mouth. His teeth scraped lightly, teasing, torturing. Next, he licked her clit, a long slow lick guaranteed to start a fire. He nibbled at the tiny nubbin, creating a firestorm inside her. A whimper escaped her. Her body quivered like a finely drawn bow as his tongue worked its magic.
She arched helplessly, seeking that magical power. She twisted her head against the pillows, dug her fingers into the sheets and held on to the wild ride he was taking her on. Like flashes of lightning, her body pulsed with heat. She begged for the release only he could give her.
“Ah, God,” she screamed and bucked beneath his ravaging tongue.
Pressure built and built, until she thought she’d die with heat of it.
She whimpered as he slid up her body. “No! Don’t stop.”
He laughed and dragged her fingers to wrap around his stiff manhood. “You need me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he whispered against her mouth. “Need this?”
She moved restlessly. Lord, she needed. Wanted–something. “Yes,” she hissed. “I need you!”
She held the rigid length of him, the hard—yet soft, steel encased in sleek velvet.
He groaned, closed a hand over hers and guided hers in a smooth, up and down stroke. “I need you too, sweetheart. Can you feel how much I need you?”
“Yes,” she whispered amazed at the dampness she felt on the broad head of his cock. She glanced down and saw a bead of clear fluid on the engorged knob.
“Ahh, that won’t do, darlin’. You keep stroking me like that, and it’ll be over before we begin.” His voice sounded strained. Unsteady.
Gently he moved her hand off the velvety shaft.
Kaycee tangled her fingers in his hair as he returned to what seemed to be his favorite snack. He drove his tongue inside her in a mock mating, stroked the delicate pink folds between her legs. Again, he brought her to the pinnacle of release, teasing and laving the little nubbin until she was panting and begging.
“Jace, please, don’t torture me…so.”
She arched her slender body, seeking that which he held back from
her as he slid upward, kissing her stomach.
“Not yet,” he breathed. “You’re not ready.”
She reached for him, wrapped her slender fingers around his thick erection and stroked as he’d taught her. With her other hand, she gently cupped the tight sac and squeezed gently.
He shuddered and closed his fingers over hers once again. “Bad idea.”
She whimpered a protest as he removed her hand.
“Easy, darlin’,” he murmured, smoothing back her hair. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. Just…don’t touch me, not like that…I–I’m too close.” He clenched his teeth and pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to rush through this,” he said huskily. “I want to savor. Feast, like you’re a banquet spread before me.”
And he started over. He started at the tips of her brows and brushed his lips over her face, paused to nibble on her nipples before he pressed a trail of butterfly kisses down her stomach. His warm breath teased her skin.
He glided his tongue down her inner thigh, lightly scraped his teeth along the tiny nubbin, nipped delicately at her flesh and paid special attention to her now sensitized clit. Her inner tissues felt swollen and so alive, she thought she was going to die if he didn’t allow her to climax soon. His slow touch was driving her insane.
She heard his soft laugh because he knew exactly what he was doing to her. He took time to give her clit several wet licks before slowly blazing his way to her knees, her ankles. His fingers glided like magic, worked their way past her navel, until they reached the secret core of her femininity once again. There he gently stroked the soft, closed folds he’d left burning alive and yearning for his touch.
Kaycee spread her legs, opened to his questing fingers like a rosebud to the sunshine. “Oh, God,” she moaned, gasping while his finger toyed and teased her clit then he slid his finger inside her, so slow, so easy, she thought she’d combust. She couldn’t keep going like this. He couldn’t keep bringing her to the point of no return. It was torture. It was pain. It was—wonderfully delicious.
“Easy,” he whispered.
Her hips moved, seeking to draw his finger deeper inside her, but he kept his touch shallow, light and teasing. She writhed beneath him, a wild thing quivering with need. She dug her fingers into the sheets as he worked his finger deeper, thrust faster, and at last, brought her to a shuddering peak.