He drew her fingers to his lips. “Tell me, Darla.”
She blinked him back into view. She was tempted by the gentle prod he’d spoken once before back in the hotel, as well, and comforted by the fact that she was certain he wouldn’t push her to reply, as she hadn’t pushed him earlier on the street. She liked that. She liked that he’d wait on her to be ready, just as he was willing to wait before making love. Not that she wanted to wait. But he would wait—for her.
She touched his jaw, letting the light stubble rasp against her fingertips. “I’m just glad you’re here, Blake. Right here, where you can be all mine.” Her hand traveled the wall of his chest, then she pulled his shirt from his pants. She smoothed her hands underneath, over taut skin and flexing muscle. “Thank you for what you tried to do, but no thank you. Stay. I want you to stay.” She nibbled his bottom lip, felt her core clench with anticipation. “I promise to make you as sleep-deprived as I’ll be tomorrow.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, molding her closer with a spray of longer fingers at the base of her back. “Not unless you make me.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, a soft caress and a flicker of tongue just past her teeth, a delicious tease as he murmured, “You taste too good.” He pushed her jacket over her shoulders as she had his. Darla shrugged out of it and Blake was already pulling her to him again, claiming her mouth with his, making love to her with his tongue, his hands bringing her closer and driving her wild. Need charged every nerve ending in her body.
Darla fumbled with his shirt buttons, eager to touch him, to explore every last inch of his hard, hot body. He seemed to feel the same. He fumbled with her blouse, his anxious touch sent buttons flying. She didn’t care. She just wanted skin against skin. He shoved down her bra on one side and palmed her breast, squeezed her nipple, rough but right. Oh, so right. Darla moaned with pleasure, covering his hand with hers.
He slipped a hand beneath her skirt, over her lacy thigh-high stockings and then over her bare backside. He moaned at the same time she did, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth. “Darla, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to do this when you were sitting on that desk during the photo shoot today?” His fingers dipped lower, teasing her with how close he was to the wet heat of her core. He lowered his head and she felt warm breath on her neck before his lips brushed her sensitive skin. “All I could think about was how easily I could have just pulled you close and tasted you again. How much I wanted to lick you and tease you until you called my name.” He squeezed her nipple, flicked it. “Did you think of me touching you, Darla? Of me tasting you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, shocked that she was admitting such a thing, that she had indeed thought those things in the middle of a public place. But she had. Yes, she had. She’d thought of everything, from him tasting her with his mouth on her in the most intimate of ways, to Blake, in all his naked glory, riding her, buried inside her. It had driven her wild. He was driving her wild now. He made her feel free and uninhibited.
“I’ve waited hours for this,” Blake growled huskily. “Hours that I told myself I couldn’t have you. Not tonight.”
She leaned into him. He was strong and solid, and perfect in ways she couldn’t begin to name or understand. He just…was. “I bet you say that to all the women.”
His hands framed her face, his eyes finding hers. “Just you, Darla. You get that, right? There’s just you.”
Emotion expanded in her chest at the unexpected confession. “Good,” she whispered, because it was all she could manage to get out before she could even think about perhaps holding back, being guarded.
“I like that answer,” he said a moment before his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue caressing hers with sensual strokes that she felt from head to toe. There was something more happening between them than a few wild nights, something that had no place in the midst of their jobs, but she couldn’t seem to care.
She lost herself in the sensation of him touching her, barely aware of how her skirt, his as well, even her bra, had disappeared, just as her inhibitions had the instant this man came into her life. There was only a momentary return to reality in which she realized she was giving him total control. That she trusted him enough to allow him to have it. To enjoy his hands on her bare breasts, to cover them with her own and silently beg him not to stop. His lips brushed her ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine, as he repeated, “Are you going to show me what’s under that skirt, or leave me in painful anticipation?” He slid her side zipper down.
“I’d say I’d tease you a little but I think that might have to wait until later,” she confessed, letting him inch it down her hips. She kicked it away the instant it hit the floor.
He set her at arm’s length, his hands resting on her hips. The heat of his sizzling inspection was as arousing as his touch. Her skin flushed and she still felt sexy, and with Blake, it felt good. Trust. She felt trust and freedom with him that defied their short relationship. It was the second time she’d had such a thought and it spurred her into action, piercing the protective walls she maintained, making her want to please him. To show him how good he made her feel.
She approached him, her lips parting at the hungry expression she’d captured on his face. Hunger that bled into her, fed her desire, her passion to show him just how much she wanted him. Darla scraped her teeth over her bottom lip.
“Show me,” she whispered. Then in a louder voice, “Undress.” She leaned against the couch with her hands behind her, comfortable in her nakedness with him. She liked that. She didn’t remember ever feeling as playful or comfortable with any man before. Not that there had been many, but then, maybe that was why—they hadn’t ever made her feel this way.
His gaze raked over her body and he took a step toward her. She pointed, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Not until you have undressed. Halfway wasn’t good enough the first time, and it still isn’t.”
He didn’t laugh. In fact, he looked like he was going to combust with the effort to control himself, but he stopped and reached for his pants and toed off his shoes. Her hands immediately went to his waist, then slid over his broad chest, and lower still to his cock.
He made a rough, primal sound and reached for her. But she instantly went down on her knees. His erection jutted forward, thick and pulsing, and she wrapped her hand around it, forming a tight grip. She licked the head. “I’m going to show you how glad I am you stayed tonight.”
“You did that when you told me to stay.”
“Not as thoroughly as I wanted to.” She lapped at the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around it. “You like that?” she asked, playing coy.
“Hell, yeah, I like it,” he replied, his voice laden with desire.
Now, she felt in control. She licked him up and down. His expression darkened and he let out a long breath. She licked him some more, drawing him in her mouth and swirling. She was teasing him and he knew it. She wanted him to want her so bad that he couldn’t hold back.
“You know you’re killing me,” he ground out, “don’t you?”
“How?” she asked innocently, sucking only a few inches of him into her mouth and drawing back.
“You know how.”
She drew him into the wet heat of her mouth until she could take no more.
“Yes,” he groaned, his hand going to her head, urging her to keep going. “That’s good, baby.”
The endearment spoken so naturally made her heart flutter. The desperate need in his voice drove her crazy. She suckled him, her mouth and hand pumping him. Her other hand wrapped around him, using that rock-hard ass of his to steady herself. She wanted him to come, she wanted to know she’d taken this man to the brink.
Suddenly though, he pulled away from her.
“Enough,” he said. “Enough.” He was completely aroused, set on what he wanted. Before Darla could protest, he had lifted her and was carrying her to her bed. He placed her down on the navy blue-and-gray comforter and was on top of her
in an instant, settling between her legs.
He rested his forehead against hers. “You smell good.”
She laughed. “You suddenly realize I smell good?”
“I always notice you smell good.” He smiled. “Now I know you taste good, too.”
Her fingers curled on his cheek, heat pooling low in her belly at the intimate words. “I’m not sure I know how to respond to that.”
“And that honest answer makes me want to ask you a very serious question.”
Her breath hitched and she tried to pull back to see his face. “What?”
“Please tell me you have condoms and they are nearby.”
Again, she found herself laughing. “Dresser drawer.”
He didn’t waste any time rolling off her to open the drawer. She scooted across the mattress, sliding up to his back as he held up the package. “Four,” he said, his tone suddenly gruff. “Why are there only four left?”
Darla barely contained her laughter as she reached over and snatched the condom packages from him, nibbling his shoulders in the process. “One is in my purse, silly man. I wanted to be prepared. I was seeing you, after all.”
He rolled over and pulled her on top of him. “Is that right?”
There was a possessive quality to his voice, and she liked it. “That,” she assured him, “is absolutely right.”
“So you thought we might—”
“Yes,” she admitted, tearing one of the condoms from the rest and opening it. “I told myself we wouldn’t do this tonight, that I should leave them all at home to be sure we didn’t.” She reached behind her and stroked his shaft, then raised and shifted her body so that she had better access. Wasting no time, she rolled the condom down the length of him—but not without sneaking in one last teasing lick.
“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, dragging her up his body, the V of her pelvis flattening on his hard length. He claimed her mouth, his tongue catching hers. His fingers glided over her clit, entering the ultrasensitive core of her body.
She couldn’t take it. “Blake, please.” She reached between them, fisted his shaft and pressed him inside her. Relief rushed from her lips as he sunk deep within her. “Finally.”
“Finally,” he agreed.
They stared at each other, both unmoving and breathing together almost as one. Emotion swelled her heart. That something she’d felt earlier was back, stronger than ever.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he said, repeating what he’d said before, what he’d said in the hotel in Denver. “But don’t stop. I like it, and us, way too much.”
“Me, too,” she agreed, a moment before his mouth closed down on hers. He shifted his hips and she felt him beginning a slow sway that sent sensations exploding inside her. Their rhythmic grind turned into a fierce, wicked passion, like nothing she’d ever experienced. Until they were not just moving together, but practically trying to crawl under each other’s skin. She didn’t want it to end, but it had to end. Nothing this good could last forever.
Too soon, she cried out as her body clenched around his cock, the spasms shaking her with such intense bliss it almost hurt. He thrust one last time with his fists pressed to the mattress beside her, his head thrown back and his face etched with pleasure.
She smiled, clinging to him, her teeth nibbling her bottom lip. Taking a risk, letting go of a little control, might not be so bad after all.
17
DARLA WOKE IN A DARK ROOM, noting that she was alone. She felt across the bed, searching for Blake and not finding him. Her heart twisted in her chest, memories flooding her mind. This wasn’t how she thought the morning would turn out. Not after she and Blake had spent hours talking, exchanging stories about their families, their jobs, their likes and dislikes. And making love. There had been lots of wonderful lovemaking that had eventually led to raiding her empty fridge. Twinkies and Starbursts had been their only hope of nourishment, considering she’d been home so rarely and hadn’t bothered to stock up. It had been wonderful. She’d taken that risk with him, she’d dared to let herself be free with him. She’d fallen asleep, thinking that it had paid off with something special—that she and Blake had been special. Instead, he was gone without so much as a goodbye. Suddenly angry, Darla sat up, wearing nothing more than a T-shirt she’d put on when she’d gotten cold. It smelled of spicy cologne, of Blake. She’d trusted him, she’d—
“You’re up. I didn’t mean to wake you.” She blinked into the darkness at him, his silhouette starting to take shape. He was dressed, about to leave, apparently.
“Why are you skulking around in the dark?”
He crossed the small space to sit beside her, leaning in and kissing her, a warm caress of his mouth over hers. His hand smoothed her rumpled hair. “Because you have exactly fifteen minutes until your alarm goes off, cranky, and I wasn’t going to wake you for another seven so we could talk. I’d planned to have coffee in hand when I woke you, but it’s not quite ready.”
Her stomach rolled. “Talk?”
“Can I turn on the light?”
“If you don’t mind seeing me look like I just stuck my finger in the light socket, then go for it.”
He reached over and flipped the switch on the brown crystal lamp that had been her grandmother’s. A dim glow lit the room. Self-consciously, she brushed at her hair, not sure why she cared. If this talk was what she suspected, it didn’t matter how she looked anyway.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, settling down fully beside her. He was beautiful, she thought, with all that dark stubble shadowing his jaw, his hair tousled. This was a different Blake than the Mr. GQ the cameras saw. This was the Blake she’d come to know last night, the casual, sexy, wonderful man who loved his family, loved his life.
“I’m a wreck,” she blurted, and it wasn’t a counter to his compliment. She wasn’t talking about her looks. He was in his thirties, a bachelor who’d never been engaged, per his prior night’s confession. She had a feeling she was about to find out that was because he had a commitment phobia that matched her phobia of flying.
“You’re not a wreck,” he assured her, curling his hand around hers. “I wanted to talk to you about this before now, but time got away from me. Last night—”
“Was a mistake,” she supplied, the words exploding from her lips. “I get that. I understand. You don’t owe me—”
“Whoa!” he said, leaning back as if slapped. “What just happened? How did last night become a mistake? Because it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”
“It wasn’t?” she asked, confused, a tiny light of hope forming in her. “But I thought you…”
He arched a brow. “You thought I what?”
“That you were about to say that.”
He was still, his jaw set, hard. “Is that what you hoped I’d say?”
“No,” she said honestly, unwilling to talk in circles. She wanted to know where they stood. She couldn’t take any more uncertainty in her life right now. “You were just up and dressed and—”
He bent his head and kissed her, a tender swipe of his tongue against hers that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. “Do I seem like I think last night, or this morning, or anytime in the future for us, is a mistake?”
No. He didn’t. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, brushing her hand over his jaw. “Last night happened and now I fly out of town and it’s just confusing.”
He inched back to look into her eyes. “Relationship, Darla. We talked about us being at that place before I even decided to stay the night.”
He’s worth taking a risk for, the voice in her head reminded her. “Yes,” she agreed. “Relationship.”
“Good,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead, his fingers brushing a wild strand of her hair behind her ear. “Which brings me back to where I was a few seconds ago. Last night, when I was hailing cabs for the group to leave the restaurant, Meagan told me that she knows we have something going on, and she’s fine with it, with one condition.”<
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“A condition,” Darla repeated, her stomach knotting up all over again. She had conditions left and right, and conditions from Meagan were big, because, friend or not, Meagan was her boss.
“This new advertising campaign is being built on the two of us being ratings enemies. The studio is spending a fortune on it and they expect people to be intrigued by our dynamics. Some will watch to see us do battle. Others will hope we end up right where we have. The good news is that us being seen together isn’t an issue. It feeds speculation. Being seen together in a way that makes our real relationship obvious is trouble, though, for the show—and trouble for us. We can’t let the cast or crew know we’re together. It’s too risky. People sell things to the tabloids.”
Darla wasn’t surprised that Meagan supported their relationship after their talk in Denver, nor was she surprised about the concerns. “She’s trying to protect the show. I understand that.”
“I understand, as well, because she really did dive in headfirst into making us a ratings grabber for the season. Ultimately, it’s exposure for us both. We have to show gratitude for it by making it work. When this season ends, however, we’ll have to make it clear we’re going public with our feelings.”
“Next season?” she asked, shocked that he was planning so far in advance.
He wrapped her in his arms. “Next season,” he repeated. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to make me fall in love with you long before that.”
“Love?” she murmured, her heart pounding in her chest. Blake thought he was falling in love with her. “Did you say—”
“Love,” he said. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No,” she replied hoarsely, “I don’t have a problem with it at all, actually. But isn’t it early to say that?”
“I’m thirty-two years old,” he said, “and I’ve never once used that word with a woman. I don’t think I’d call it rushing.”
“Never?” she asked. “Not with anyone?”
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