Hot Property

by Susan Johnson

  “You’re definitely welcome,” he whispered, holding her gently and kissing her for a long, lingering moment. Then unwinding her arms from around his neck, he stepped away. “I have to take a rain check,” he said to the surprise in her eyes. “My security needs a look-see first.”

  “You’re not serious! We’re the only human beings for hundreds of miles.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “Couldn’t it wait?” Lush, sultry invitation in her tone.

  “Not really.”

  She held his gaze. “You still don’t trust me, do you?”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  She blew out a small breath. “Tell me what I have to do to make you understand I am who I say I am.”

  His lashes drifted downward and he gave her an assessing look. “Probably not much of anything. Don’t take it personally. Harry’s the kind who doesn’t give up until he gets what he wants. Although, you might already know that.”

  “Jeez Louise, I don’t know Harry! I have never known a Harry in my life! I don’t even know who the hell would name their kid Harry. And consider, my suspicious fellow traveler, why would I be stupid enough to even think about doing you harm when, at the risk of possibly adding to your conceit,” she said with a beguiling smile, “you’ve given me sexual pleasure a thousand times better than anyone I’ve ever run across.”

  Even as he reminded himself she was probably lying, his libido was already stoking up, his erection was readying itself for action, and his brain was racing through possible options for on-the-spot sex that didn’t include him dying. “Look, I’d like to believe you,” he said, his voice taut with constraint, “but since I can’t for a bunch of reasons you couldn’t begin to understand, let’s just keep things the way they are.”

  “You mean sex with handcuffs.”

  “Not exactly. I don’t have any here.”

  She glanced at his crotch, his arousal obvious. “I’m sure you can improvise,” she murmured with more than a touch of sarcasm.

  “Don’t be a bitch. I’m not in the mood.”

  She sucked in her breath. His dark eyes had gone cold, his mouth was set in a harsh, unyielding line, and suddenly conscious that she was alone in the remoteness of the Canadian wilderness with a possibly dangerous man, she quickly said, “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to offend you. You know best. You call the plays.”

  His smile was instant. “Don’t freak. I won’t hurt you.” Another quick smile, boyish and sweet. “You’re white as a ghost.”

  “It’s a long way to civilization.”

  He exhaled softly. “Maybe I was a little curt,” he said, his tone ultraconciliatory. “I’m on a short fuse.” Harry has a lot to answer for, including, perhaps, this sexy babe. Then again, maybe she is clean; wouldn’t that be fucking nice.

  “We’re both tense,” she acknowledged with a smile.

  “Look, why don’t you call Joe or some friend of yours on my shortwave and give them an update. You can’t talk long, because I don’t want to give anyone time to get a fix and lock onto the signal. But you can tell them you’ll call back tomorrow. That way you know you have someone on your side— you’re not completely alone in the wilderness.”

  “But I am,” she retorted, thinking she shouldn’t be so mouthy, but then that would require a personality change. “You know as well as I do that no one could ever find me out here.”

  He shrugged. It was impossible to argue the reality. “Regardless, you’re safe. I’m harmless. Should I put that in writing?”

  “Since I saw your idea of ‘harmless’ stacked up in your kitchen pantry, do me a favor and cut the bullshit.”

  He softly sighed. “Let’s put it this way. You, personally, are safe from me,” he said, very, very softly. “Guaranteed. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he added, his gaze amused.

  Call her a pushover for atonement in a man. Although honestly, Nick’s glorious erection may have been more of a mitigating factor. “Does that mean I’m safe from sexual advances, too?” she purred.

  He grinned. “Now you’re jerkin’ my chain.”

  “You’re not going to give me an opening line I could drive a Mack truck through, are you—like maybe there was something else I could jerk off?”

  “Cute.”

  She lifted her chin slightly, directed her heated gaze at him, and said, hushed and low, “Perhaps if you made me feel really, really good I’d forget about being afraid of you.”

  He laughed. “Does anyone ever say no to you when you look at him like that?”

  She smiled. “Not usually.”

  Pulling her close, he slid his hands down her bottom and hauled her against him so she could feel the full extent of his erection. “You win. But seriously,” he added, brushing her mouth with a kiss, “I have to check my security first, so you’ll have to wait awhile.”

  “How long?” she whispered.

  He dragged in a breath, exhaled, and said, “Fifteen minutes. I’ll hurry.” His smile would make any woman weak in the knees. “But if we have incoming because you need sex ASAP, it’s gonna be all your fault.”

  “I’ll get undressed and wait in your bed,” she whispered, every sexual nerve in her body racheting up. “You just take all the time you need,” she purred.

  “Bitch.” But his voice was husky and without umbrage this time.

  And his security system was reviewed in record time.

  Twenty-three

  Nick went through the flight bag in the plane and came up with a few condoms. He normally didn’t bring women to his outpost camp. However—like everything else with Zoe Chandler—normal had taken a hike.

  So when he entered the bedroom, condoms in his pockets and a small bouquet of pinks in hand, he was pretty much in carpe diem mode. And when the condoms ran out, he’d just have to punt. “Here, babe, I come bearing gifts.”

  “How sweet. They smell wonderful. You look even more wonderful,” Zoe murmured, lying tantalizingly nude and expectant on his bed.

  He held up the flowers. “Water,” he said. A moment later, he’d put them in a glass from the washstand and brought them back to the bedside table.

  “You constantly amaze me,” Zoe said, coming up on one elbow to sniff the fragrant little bouquet. “You’re not all Mr. Tough Guy.”

  “I never said I was.” He kicked off his sandals. “You were the one who came looking for a bodyguard. Perception, babe,” he said with a grin. “It’s in the eye of the beholder.”

  “Speaking of perception,” she murmured, as he stripped off his T-shirt, “you are really, really fine Mr. Mirovic.”

  Taking in the view, he lifted his brows and said, “While you babe, are looking—”

  “Eager and impatient?”

  He laughed. “I was gonna say, you’re looking real fine on my bed. No shit, I must live right.” Zoe was lying on top of his patchwork quilt, looking like some bucolic Daisy Mae centerfold, although her blonde pubic hair was glistening in a ray of sunshine as in a consummate porno shot. Staged or real? Right now, he didn’t give a damn.

  “Just hurry,” she whispered. “I am sooo hot—here, feel.” She put her hands to her cheeks. “And it’s all your fault.”

  “So you’re not this hot all the time. Yeah, right.” I haven’t just fallen off the last turnip truck. This chick could come on a dime.

  “No. I’m not!”

  She actually looked affronted. “Fine,” he said noncommittal and circumspect. “I’m glad.” This is no time to insist on the truth.

  “It’s some Karma thing or some weird sexual affinity. I haven’t a clue which or why, but I want you—constantly.” She smiled. “Except when people are shooting at us.”

  Speak for yourself, he thought. When his adrenalin was spiking, so was his libido. “We have plenty of time right now,” he said, unzipping his shorts. “So why don’t we test out that constantly thing.” Pulling out the condoms before he dropped his shorts to the floor, he tossed them on the bedside table.

>   “Is that all?” Zoe said with alarm, silently counting the condoms.

  “No, I have more,” Nick lied. No way am I getting in an argument now. “Move over.” I should have tied her hands. He should have done any number of reasonable, prudent things, starting with leaving her behind. But at this precise moment, it didn’t look like he’d have to fight off an assassin. She was beginning to pant.

  The instant he lay down on the bed, she rolled on top of him, threw her arms around his neck, and showered him with kisses.

  Death by kisses, he thought, smiling against her mouth. Not a bad way to go.

  She was soft and warm blanketing him, her skin silky smooth under his hands, and he genially returned her kisses because they had nothing but time until Alan arrived. He gently traced the curve of her spine, skimmed the ripe curves of her bottom with his palms, held her for a tremulous moment against the hard, rigid length of his erection and figured Karma or whatever—he liked the kick-ass rush.

  “You have to give me that . . .” Zoe whispered against his mouth, moving her hips gently back and forth over his erection.

  “In a minute, babe.” He smiled faintly. “I’m having a Zen moment here.”

  “You’re always so take-it-or-leave-it calm and I’m ravenous, insatiable.” Her pale brows drew together in a frown. “How do you do it?” Then her mouth lifted in a sudden smile. “Who cares. I’m just sooo glad you brought me along.”

  “Me, too,” he said, in lieu of the truth. They both knew he almost hadn’t.

  “For your information, I might take advantage of you while I’m here,” she playfully teased.

  He laughed. “I hope like hell you do.”

  “Oh, good,” she said, brushing a kiss over his mouth before pushing herself up and straddling his hips. “Although, you’re much too handsome, you know,” she grumbled, wrinkling her nose. “You must have women throwing themselves at you all the time.”

  “Nah,” he lied, quickly grabbing a condom and ripping open the foil, because he could see where this was going. “But believe me, I’m more than happy if you want to.”

  “What a darling,” Zoe purred. “And him, too,” she softly added, running the pads of her fingers up his taut erection lying flat against his stomach, the engorged veins pulsing under her fingertips. “I’m ridiculously jealous about where this gorgeous cock goes,” she said, coming up on her knees while Nick rolled the condom down at record speed. “And there’s no reason in the world why I should when I didn’t even know who you were a day”—and before she had time to reach for Nick’s rampant penis or finish her sentence, he’d helped himself to her hot, wet cunt, impaling her on his flagpole of an erection and curtailing her speech.

  Save for what was becoming a familiar little satisfied moan.

  Holding her hips motionless, his fingers stretched wide, he whispered, “Try coming without moving this time . . .”

  Her lashes lifted marginally so he could see the stormy green of her eyes. “Don’t want to,” she muttered, sulkily.

  “Try it. You’ll like it.”

  “No I won’t.” Pouty, begrudging his assurance.

  “Maybe you don’t have a choice. I’m stronger than you . . . bigger . . . feel how big I am. Your hot little cunt is crammed full.” Maybe he was more intolerant of her ripe and ready passions than he’d admit. Perhaps he was feeling a perverse need to chastize her. “Think of it this way,” he said, raspy and low, “if you do as you’re told, I’ll let you have my cock for as long as you want.”

  “Nick, no. I can’t—really I can’t,” Zoe heatedly protested, struggling to break free, squirming against his hold, chock-full of his enormous cock and so feverishly aroused, she was quivering.

  “When your boobs bounce and jiggle like that it makes me really horny,” Nick whispered, softly. “Are you teasing me with your big boobs?”

  She shook her head, feverishly tried to pry his fingers loose.

  “You’re turning me on anyway, babe,” he murmured, ignoring her clawing fingers. “Can you feel that? My cock’s getting bigger and harder.”

  She softly groaned, her eyes half shut, her cheeks flushing pink.

  “There—see—you’re almost there.” She was clearly trembling on the brink. “See if this helps,” he whispered, and flexing his hips, he thrust upward with brute force.

  She gasped, then whimpered, frenzied, shockingly in heat. “Please, Nick . . . oh God, please.”

  “Please what?” His voice was rough, harsh, an outlandish jealousy suddenly manifest in his thoughts. She’s ready to fuck anywhere, anytime, damn it. “You want to come, right?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!”

  “Then you’re willing to do whatever I want?”

  “Yes,” she panted. “Anything.”

  It was amazing how a single word could be such a powerful aphrodisiac. It felt like his dick swelled a foot. “You sure?”

  She quickly nodded, eyes shut, breathing hard, her entire body flushed with passion.

  “You can’t say no to me.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t, I won’t.”

  “If I want you to beg me to fuck you, you will.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “If I want to fuck you all night, you have to let me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  Her eyes snapped open, bewilderment in her gaze.

  “Say, ‘Yes, master.’ ” He was so outside the pale, the voice couldn’t have been his. Nor the thought. Denial in extremis.

  She hesitated.

  He tightened his grip on her hips, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh.

  “Yes, master,” she whispered, shuddering, her gaze focused inward once again on the wild, sensual prodigality overwhelming her senses.

  He smiled, an austere, cryptic smile. “That’s a good girl.” Then he raised her up his erection and controlled her downward descent, prolonging the exquisite, agonizing pressure, determining the degree of honeyed friction as pulsing nerve met overwrought tissue, further inflaming the seething, turbulent sensations.

  But as he well knew, once she was resting on his thighs again, once she was so gorged full of cock she was uncontrollably shaking, she climaxed.

  Violently.

  Wildly.

  Headlong, unaided by judgment.

  Like I knew you would.

  Brief moments later, he tumbled her onto her back and fucked her again the old-fashioned way—perhaps in apology for his small tyranny, perhaps to convince himself that he hadn’t done what he’d just done. Telling himself his perverse need for her submission probably had to do with the coming assault whipping up his libido.

  He was particularly gentle, tender, kissing her like an adoring lover might, making sure she was utterly sated and replete before allowing himself to climax. Holding her face between his hands at the end, he held her gaze and whispered with a disarming smile, “Wanna go steady?”

  “No, you’re too mean.”

  He knew what she meant. “You could have said no,” he blandly replied, rolling off her onto his back, stripping off his condom, and tossing it.

  She punched him. Hard.

  She punches like a girl, not like someone trained to kill. And she definitely wasn’t faking her orgasms. Two points for my side. He wiped himself off on the sheet.

  “And here’s for being such an ass!” she said, slamming her fist in his arm again.

  He shot her a look, thinking he probably should apologize. But she jerked his chain in ways he didn’t particularly like. So maybe they were even when it came to frustration. Seriously, he didn’t like this have-to-have-it crap with sex. He didn’t want to crave a woman.

  “You should apologize,” she muttered, coming up on one elbow and glaring at him.

  He turned his head on the pillow. “What for? Your five orgasms?”

  “It’s not just about orgasms.”

  “Excuse me. Weren’t you the babe begging to come?”

  “Take me home.”r />
  He gave her a slit-eyed look. “You’re joking, right?”

  She came up into a seated position so fast, he braced himself for another blow, but she only crossed her legs and smiled down at him. “I suppose I am.”

  “Fuck. You’re crazier than I am.”

  She made a face. “Au contraire. I’m addicted to that.” She nodded in the direction of his—wouldn’t you know it—fully tumescent erection. “Jeez,” she murmured, half in awe, half bewildered, “you must be popping Viagra.”

  “Au contraire,” he mimicked. “My Viagra is in bed with me.”

  “Really,” she said with a wide smile and a playful flutter of her lashes.

  “So don’t talk to me about addiction,” he growled. “I should have left you in Ely.”

  “But you can’t live without me.”

  “I can’t live without this,” he said, coming up off his back at warp speed, pushing her down, shoving two fingers up her vagina, and delicately stroking her G-spot like he hadn’t just growled, like he was the sweetest lover on the face of the earth.

  Lying in a blatantly sensual sprawl, her senses on fire, she whispered, “Maybe we shouldn’t think too hard about any of this.”

  “You got my vote,” he grunted, reaching for a condom.

  They made love leisurely this time, as if they were abstemious personalities, as if they had momentarily jettisoned their mainline addition to sex. He kissed her everywhere—up and down her body, in every crevice and fold and heated orifice. And when she attempted to return the favor, he held her gently at bay and said, “Later, babe.” He still wasn’t sure of her and keeping his cock intact was high on his list of priorities. Especially with hours to go until Alan arrived. But when she screamed his name at the last as she climaxed, he experienced a rare, singular pleasure. Analogous to the inexplicable pleasure he felt when he came a few moments later.

  At a loss to understand his extraordinary fondness for Zoe Chandler, Nick resorted to his habitual remedy to uncertainty and doubt. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, rising from the bed. When he returned he was carrying a bottle of Stoli Cristal.