by Nancy Warren
“You’re not going to give me back my own property if I ask for it?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Then you leave me no alternative.” He was acting all huffy, but she sensed he wasn’t as angry as she’d assumed. In fact, he moved in on her until they were touching.
She felt the heat coming off him. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Punish you,” he said in a low voice that made her skin warm. He lowered his head until their lips almost touched.
“I thought punishing kisses were only doled out in old romance novels.”
He dropped a kiss on her lips that was anything but a punishment – more of a teasing promise. “My methods are much more subtle and cruel.”
“Really? We’re not talking leather whips and chain mail here, are we?”
He kissed her a few more times, light teasing kisses that landed and then took off before she had a chance to fully engage. “You don’t give me any credit at all, do you?” His fingers trailed up the front of her top to toy with the undersides of her breasts. “I was thinking of making you so hot you’d beg me to send you over the edge.”
She felt the warmth of his body, caught the scent of his skin and was pulled into the sexual promise glittering in his eyes. Already she was humming with anticipation and a wanting so strong it bordered on need.
After the amazing almost-sex in her office the night Greg was disabling his car, then the pseudo-heart attack sex of the other night, she figured she was ready for something that would put an end to her ever-mounting frustration. She did not, however, have to make things easy for him.
“I will make you a bet,” she said, letting her own fingers sneak under his shirt to find taut, warm belly.
He dropped his head until their foreheads met. “This is supposed to be a punishment, not a wager.”
“That is a very severe punishment,” she agreed, giving his lower lip a tiny nip just to let him know she could hold her own if punishing were on the agenda. “But I’m thinking that getting me to the point of no return is going to put quite a strain on your own self control.”
“You let me worry about that,” he said.
“But that’s the whole point. Let’s both worry about it. You’re so sure I’ll be a slave to your will. I think you’ll be begging a lot sooner than I will.”
“What’s at stake? I want my phone back. What do you want?” When he spoke to her in that tone, with his fingers toying with her breasts what she wanted was to stop talking and make love. But she also wanted to save Joe from himself, for reasons she didn’t entirely understand.
“If I win, then your laptop joins your cell phone in the safe.”
His head jerked up and the teasing left his voice. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No! Second to the cell phone, that laptop is your biggest problem. You’re addicted to technology like a junkie on heroin. Cold turkey, baby. It’s your only hope.”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I’m not worried.”
“Good. Neither am I.”
“Okay. Let’s do it then.”
She felt a sudden qualm. Sex with her had already hospitalized him once. “Physically, are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Em, I am more up for it than you can imagine.”
“But you’ve been in hospital.”
“I haven’t forgotten where we were when my stomach interrupted us. Have you?”
“No.” And she never would.
“It’s been four days of coitus interruptus for me. After I stopped feeling like hell, all I did was lay in bed all day and think about making love to you.”
She felt absurdly flattered. “You did?”
“Well it’s not like I had anything else to do. No phone. No laptop.”
“And I hope you got used to being without them.”
“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
She kissed his nose. “I am going to win this bet.”
In lieu of a reply, he kissed her until her toes curled.
“I have to go lock the door,” she said when she came up for air.
“I’ll meet you in your room. I have to shave first.” When his eyes did that yummy crinkly thing at the corners her heart sped up. “I don’t want any stubble getting in the way of your pleasure.”
She laughed, hah, hah, hah, like a bit of smooth skin was going to have her swooning with desire. But secretly, just the idea of him shaving, and thinking about all the places on her body he might be planning not to leave whisker burn, had her erogenous zones on high alert.
“See you in five,” he said, and leaned forward and kissed her once more, slowly and sweetly.
Sure enough, when he pulled her in tight and deepened the kiss, she could feel a hint of stubble. His chin brushed hers and she felt a slight scrape but she curled into him anyway, putting everything she had into that kiss. He pulled away, sucked in a deep breath and stared at her for a moment. Not feeling quite so sure of himself now, was he? He’d obviously forgotten her lineage.
Knowing that the aunts were having a post production coffee party at Betsy Carmichael’s place, and would likely be there for several hours, she locked the door and put the rarely used ‘please call again later’ sign up to deter any chance visitors.
As she climbed the stairs she felt excitement bubbling deep inside. Maybe they’d had a couple of false starts, but this time they’d get it right.
She heard the creaking of the old water pipes that told her her guest was taking a shower.
She smiled. When he emerged, she’d have a surprise for him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As warm water cascaded down his body, Joe wondered if he’d ever wanted anything as much as he wanted to make love to Emily. As the anticipation built, he let it, knowing from experience that it sharpened desire.
His razor probably didn’t need a new blade, but he took the time to replace it. Then he shaved carefully, scraping the blade twice over any area that might touch a part of Emily. He pushed his tongue against the dent between his lips and his chin and took the blade down in a straight line.
Maybe it was the way he’d been stuck in bed for days thinking about her, but he was so eager he could barely take the time to prepare himself for her. He brushed his teeth, flossed, gargled with mouthwash and all the while his body hummed with anticipation. He imagined her waiting for him in her bed, and that thought had him grabbing his robe and stuffing the pocket with as many condoms as it would hold.
He was nothing if not an optimist.
Oh, how he was going to love the moment when she first went starry eyed and helpless in his arms. When her passion overcame her competitive instinct and she climaxed gloriously.
He wasn’t even aware he was smiling until he strolled out of the bathroom toward the bedside table where he’d left the history of Romania and stopped dead in his tracks all notions of Romania forgotten.
Emily was stretched out on his bed and the only thing she was wearing was a welcoming smile. She lay on her side facing him, her chin propped in her hand.
If he could have formed a word he’d have told her how beautiful she looked stretched out, her languorous smile in perfect harmony with her lush body.
Since he couldn’t speak, he let his eyes worship her, as he moved closer. He’d seen her naked before, but it had been a blur of rush and need and then intense pain so the whole thing was more an impression than a memory. But looking at her now, he knew he was forming a memory that would last forever.
Hair that blonde and tumbled was designed to be spread out on a man’s pillow, as hers was this moment. Her neck was long and slender, her shoulders graceful. Her breasts were plump and full with cappuccino-colored nipples. His palms itched to touch them but he made himself wait. He could see from the way those beautiful breasts rose and fell that she was becoming aroused under his gaze.
She was enjoying being on display, stoked by his evident pleasure in her body. Dragging his gaze lower he saw that she had
a very nice belly, with a hint of muscle and a curvy waist and hips. He couldn’t hold his gaze there. Back up it went. When he’d had her on his lap in her office, her bra had stretched across the top slope of her breasts. Now they were gorgeously open to him and he had to have another look. He was a breast man and his reaction to hers was sharp and visceral. He wanted to taste them, lick them, touch them. Fuck them.
Her nipples tightened beneath his gaze, the aureoles puckering to thrust the tips at him.
He swallowed. Back to the belly. Oh, nice belly. Hips, round like a woman’s should be. The triangle of hair glossy and deep gold. A tiny sound came from his throat. Like a plea from his body to quit looking and start touching. No. No touching. Not yet. He didn’t care about his laptop, but he wanted to make sure of her pleasure.
“I want you so badly,” he said. Her skin was beginning to pinken in interesting places. He bet that flush darkened and spread when she came. No. Don’t think about coming. Not yet.
She stretched her toes and arched her back just enough to tilt her breasts toward him; it was like she already knew his weakness. Daylight streamed in from the window behind her so she was backlit and for a moment he was mesmerized by the graceful curve of her throat, her shoulder and the fluid line of her arm resting at her side. After only letting himself look, the impulse to touch was irresistible, and so he followed that gorgeous curve, gilded by the light.
He touched her throat, ran his fingertips down to her shoulder and then slowly down her arm. Her skin was soft and warm as a sigh. He leaned closer to her while she remained motionless for him like a painting or a statue. He kissed her shoulder and her shudder of reaction proved her neither painting nor statue but wonderfully warm and alive beside him.
He traced his lips upward, to the meeting place of shoulder and neck, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his lips, smelling the scent of her skin, which reminded him of the roses in her garden. Maybe she’d tended them so often that she’d somehow absorbed their scent. Her ran his hand down her arm again, feeling the soft down on her forearm and the smooth skin of her upper arm, resilient with muscle.
When he could stand it no longer, he pushed her to her back and curled his fingers round her breasts. He leaned into them, burying his face, kissing and licking, plumping them with his hands.
Not only were they spectacular, he discovered, but they were extraordinarily sensitive. She thrashed helplessly as he pulled a nipple into his mouth and tongued it.
How could he do this? How could he excite and arouse this wonderful, responsive, giving woman and not stoke his own arousal to the danger point? It couldn’t be done.
He should leave her breasts alone to give him some breathing room, but at this moment nothing in the universe mattered more to him than feeling her nipple tight and hard under his tongue.
She reached for him, “I want to see you,” she said, “I need to touch you.” Right. He’d almost forgotten he still wore the robe. Herose and she reached out to pull the tie free and he shrugged out of the thing and let it fall.
He was standing there naked looking down and she was looking up so his eagerly jutting cock seemed to be the point at which their gazes met. A slow smile curved her lips and then she hoisted herself onto her elbow for a closer look. The seat of his pride swelled a little more if that was possible at her obvious approval. This wasn’t their first time in bed but damn, it sure felt like it.
She reached out to touch him and as he felt her fingers close round his shaft he figured he could kiss his business goodbye. Odd how unimportant toppling mergers, spa locations and mineral rights seemed at this moment.
“Are you going for an unfair advantage here?” he managed.
She bit her lip and then, with obvious reluctance, pulled back her hand. She rolled to her back and regarded him. “Perhaps we need some rules.”
“Rules?”
“Yes. You get five minutes to do whatever you like to me. I get five minutes to do whatever I like to you. We change over every time the buzzer goes. Should I get the kitchen timer?”
He looked down at her, so absolutely perfect, from her lithe body to her kind heart to her warped sense of fair play.
He picked up one of the condoms from the bedside table and sheathed himself. “I have a better idea,” he said, joining her on the bed and nuzzling the sweet spot where her shoulder met her neck. “Forget the timer. Forget the rules. This is a free for all.” Then he scooped both wrists into one hand and held them above her head, which made her chest arch, and her breasts practically popped up toward where his mouth hovered.
He closed his lips around one nipple, knowing he couldn’t stay away.
He took his time, pulling with slow suction against the nipple until there was a tiny pop and his lips were free. “Oh, that feels so good,” he murmured.
Obviously, she agreed, for the next thing he knew, she’d squirmed around until her hips were directly beneath his, then she arched against him, teasing him with her slick cleft. Oh, he wanted to plunge, hard and fast, so badly he felt sweat build on his forehead as he refused his body the pleasure it had craved since the first time he’d met Emily.
Instead he tongued her nipples in the way that made her pant harder, and he tried to ignore the torment as she teased him with her hips, and lured him into her body.
He was panting as hard as Emily and as much as he loved kissing her breasts, he wanted her mouth, so he moved up to kiss her, and as his tongue slipped into her mouth, his cock took over and plunged inside her body.
The move startled both of them.
Emily made a strangled sound in her throat and rose up to meet him as he plunged again and again. He let go of her wrists and instead they linked fingers, holding hard as they mated with mouths, and bodies struggling and thrusting, no longer opponents, and no longer playing games.
There was nothing in the world he could do to stop the tide that built from deep within him. The only loser in this contest, he realized, would be a man who rated his laptop over making love to the most special woman he’d ever known.
He’d wanted to pleasure her first, for his own pride’s sake more than anything, but he wasn’t going to make it, not when she was gripping him, kneading him, all clinging, wet heat and he was all but drowning in the feel of her, the sound of her, the scent of her.
Suddenly, she arched against him and that slight change in angle did it. He felt the explosion, felt it roll out of him in agonizing bursts of pleasure. While he was half lost to reason, he became aware that his weren’t the only cries in the room, nor his the only intense climax. Emily’s fingers gripped his feverishly, her body milking him as she rode out her own orgasm.
His heart thundered, his breathing was ragged, and he’d never felt so good in his life.
He wanted to tell her, say something, let her know what she meant to him, but he couldn’t find the right words, so he kissed her slowly, tasting her, swallowing the last of her sighs of pleasure while she traced the shape of his shoulders with fingers that weren’t quite steady.
He raised himself up on his elbows and looked down into her face, which was passion pink, her eyes still barely focused, her lips swollen and wet. “Emily, that was…” He couldn’t finish. What was it he was trying to say? It felt like something amazing had happened, something way beyond the sexual.
Words were floating through his head. Scary words. The kind a man like him didn’t say to a woman. He felt more emotion swirling in the room than was good for either of them. She wasn’t blabbing, though, or kissing him to stop her from blabbing. Of the two of them, he’d say she was the more shocked.
He traced the shape of her ear with his finger tip, thinking he could spend a year getting to know every unique part of her, then he pulled her in for a big, goofy hug and held on, feeling all the emotions he was too wary to name.
“I told you I’d win,” Emily said when her heart finally slowed and she felt as though she could speak without making a fool of herself. She was wrapped snuggly in
his arms.
The hair on his forearm brushed her chin when he tightened his grip and pulled her against his chest. She loved the feel of him, the warm fuzzy brush of his chest hair against her back, the way his forearm crossed her breast.
“I think we both won,” he said, dropping a kiss on her head.
“I meant the bet.”
“Oh, that,” he said with a pretty good assumption of casualness considering the technology slave was about to lose his master. “We came together, it’s a draw.”
He was right, of course, but she wasn’t giving up that easily. “Your orgasm triggered mine, therefore, technically, I won.”
“I let you win.”
“Oh, you liar. You did not.”
He chuckled and she felt the rumble of his chest behind her. “Yes, I did. I probably could have held out for a few more seconds.”
“And why did you let me win?”
She felt the mattress shift slightly as he moved. “One, because you might be right. Maybe I should try living without my phone and computer for a few days.”
“You said, one. Is there a two?”
“Yeah. This client’s a pain in the ass. It won’t hurt them to discover I don’t always jump when they yank my strings.”
“Cool. Does that mean you’re also going to tell me what they’ve got you working on down here?”
He pulled her down beside him. “Tomorrow. I’m doing my best to take a day off here, don’t remind me I’m a workaholic.”
She could have kicked herself. “Right. Sorry.”
Just because they’d achieved such an incredible physical intimacy didn’t mean he was going to share his devious purpose in coming to town. Yeah, great post coital conversation. That was fantastic honey. The earth moved. And speaking of moving earth…we’ll be moving most of yours around here for the next few years.
Okay, she wasn’t going to spoil her own wonderful bliss by even thinking about his true purpose in coming to Beaverton. Tomorrow she’d challenge him and then maybe she could start talking some sense into the man. He had the intelligence to let her lock up his high tech tool belt, maybe he was on the road to enlightenment.