The Book Boyfriend Series Box Set

by Carly Phillips

  Pushing all those thoughts from her head, she finished up in the shower, rinsing the frothy body wash from her skin and turning off the water before she turned into a prune. Grabbing a towel, she dried off, then wrapped it around her as she walked back into the bedroom to get dressed.

  But as she looked through her suitcase, she came across the lingerie she’d bought as a Valentine’s Day surprise for Brice, which was all she’d intended to wear for the weekend—that or nothing at all—other than her jeans outside of the hotel room. The risqué nightie in her hand mocked her for being a fool, and she suddenly wanted to forget about her embarrassing afternoon and erase Brice from her mind completely tonight.

  She thought about Connor waiting in the living room for her, and her pulse beat slow and thick in her veins as his final comment came back to taunt her . . . being a nice guy is way overrated.

  He didn’t want to be a nice guy. That much she knew. What he wanted was her, and after having her self-esteem take such a direct hit, the notion of feeling sexy and desirable, even for one night, was so tempting. The last thing she wanted right now was a commitment or forever promises when that clearly was not her forte, but hot, mindless sex with a gorgeous, hot-as-hell stranger she’d never see again? Yeah, that sounded absolutely perfect and exactly what she needed.

  Gathering the fortitude to go through with her plan, she let the towel drop to the floor and put on the red lace baby-doll top and matching panties before she changed her mind. She unclipped her hair and let it fall to her shoulders, then ruffled her fingers through the strands to give her a more tousled, just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of look. She touched up her makeup and dabbed her lips with a tinted moisturizing balm.

  Her stomach was a bundle of crazy wild nerves, but there was also something incredibly exhilarating about being so spontaneous when she was the kind of woman who’d always planned things out. But look where that had gotten her . . . stuck in a snowstorm in Denver after finding out her ex had been screwing someone else.

  But it had also gotten her stranded with Connor, and for once in her life, Katie was going to be impulsive and enjoy whatever tonight and the nice guy out in the living room had to offer.

  * * *

  Connor scrolled through the list of movies on pay-per-view for the tenth time, not sure what Katie might be in the mood for. He’d raided the mini bar as promised, and all the junk food loot was on the coffee table awaiting their impromptu slumber party. He was just waiting, albeit impatiently, to find out if Katie was going to join him or not. After her emotionally draining day, he wasn’t sure she was going to be up to hanging out, and as much as he’d understand that decision, the thought mostly disappointed him.

  When he heard the door to her bedroom open, a flood of relief coursed through him. “So, what are you in the mood for?” he asked, anxious for her to join him and hoping that she sat on the same sofa as he did instead of the single chair opposite the couch—Jesus, what was he, fourteen? “We’ve got our choice between a romantic comedy, action adventure, or a horror flick.”

  “None of those,” she said, her voice soft and husky as she approached from his peripheral vision. “The only thing I’m in the mood for is . . . you.”

  Certain that he’d heard Katie wrong, he turned his head to glance at her. His jaw dropped open in shock as he stared at the stunning, erotic vision standing a few feet away from him, dressed in a sinful red ensemble that screamed fuck me, please. Unsure as to what was going on—was he being cruelly punked right now?—his entire body went rigid, including his dick, as he desperately tried to clear the lust that was quickly fogging his brain.

  He managed to close his mouth, but that only made his jaw clench achingly tight as he fought off the urge to do something stupid, like push her down to the couch and give free rein to the attraction they’d both been skirting. Jesus, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her and the see-through lingerie that exposed more than it covered, teasing him mercilessly. The sheer underwire cups pushed her generous breasts up like an offering, barely containing all that mouthwatering fullness, and her tight, rosy nipples pushed against the thin, lacy fabric. The skirt of the short gown draped over her midsection like a veil, sheer enough for him to see the indentation of her waist and flare of her hips, and a pair of tiny red matching panties he wanted to tear off of her with his teeth.

  He swore beneath his breath, and when she made a soft, uncertain noise in the back of her throat, he jerked his gaze back up to hers. He caught a quick glimpse of apprehension shimmering in those big brown eyes, which contradicted the bold, brazen woman currently standing in front of him.

  “Maybe this was a really stupid idea,” she said in a voice that cracked with a wealth of doubts, right before she turned back around and rushed toward her bedroom in a blur of red material that swirled around her waist and thighs.

  Realizing that she believed his hesitation was because he didn’t want her, Connor jumped to his feet and reached Katie before she made it halfway across the living room. He caught her around the waist with a strong arm and hauled her up against his body, her back to his front—and quickly realized what a huge mistake that was.

  She valiantly struggled to break free of his hold, the curve of her delectable ass shifting and wriggling against the thick length of his cock already straining the zipper of his jeans. He gritted his teeth at the onslaught of lust racing through his blood, threatening to eradicate his self-control and any rational decisions he needed to make. And the situation definitely called for him to remain level-headed so he could think with his brain and not his unruly dick.

  She tried to push away his arm one last time, but when it didn’t budge, she made a frustrated sound. “Just let me go, Connor,” she said, her voice defeated and so damn vulnerable. “Please.”

  He wasn’t releasing her until he knew she was okay. “Katie—”

  “Don’t make this any worse than it already is,” she said, cutting him off, her entire body still unyielding against his. “I must have misread your interest, and I don’t think I can handle getting rejected twice in one day.”

  Aww, fuck. The very last thing he felt for her was disinterest, but he didn’t want to take advantage of her or the situation, either. He released her and turned Katie so that she was facing him, hating the wariness in her gaze. She looked like she was going to bolt again, and he wasn’t about to let that happen until they got a few things straight. With his hands gripping her hips so she couldn’t go anywhere, at least not easily, he backed her up a few steps, until she was trapped between him and the wall.

  The impulse to run his hands up the indentation of her waist to the breasts nearly spilling out of her flimsy top was so strong and so distracting he had to place his palms safely on the wall on either side of her shoulders. She tipped her head back to look up at him, and he nearly smiled when he saw the earlier doubts that had been clouding her gaze were now replaced with a stubborn attitude that turned him on way too much.

  “First of all, you didn’t misread anything,” he told her. “You surprised the fuck out of me, because I didn’t expect you to come out of your room looking like a goddamn sex kitten. And secondly, I’m not rejecting you personally.”

  Her chin lifted obstinately. “Just what I’m offering?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked at the impudent tone of her voice, and before he could think better of it, he touched one of the soft, blonde strands of hair that fell to the swell of her breasts. He rubbed the silky texture between his fingers, immediately imagining how it would feel to have his entire hand wrapped around the length. Tugging. Pulling. Her gasping. Moaning. Begging.

  The heady images in his head fueled his growing hunger for her. “What, exactly, are you offering, Valentine?” he murmured, knowing he was torturing himself but beyond caring any longer.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  He watched as her tongue dampened her bottom lip, spurring more dirty thoughts to fill his head. “Tell me,” he s
aid, the words a gentle demand. “Just so it’s clear for both of us.”

  She hesitated for a moment, as if gathering up the nerve, then spoke. “Remember that fantasy I told you about earlier? The sex-with-a-stranger-in-a-hotel-room fantasy?”

  How could he forget something like that? “Yes.”

  She exhaled a breath. “That’s all I want. No last names. No personal information. Just a night of hot, mindless sex.”

  Yeah, that sounded damn good, except he was already coming to want so much more than that with her. “I’m not really a one-night-stand kind of guy.”

  It was the truth. Unlike a lot of his friends, he’d never been the type to screw a woman just to get off, without the intention of ever seeing her again. It just wasn’t who he was. He liked getting to know the women he slept with, liked the intimacy of learning what gave them the most pleasure so the next time they fucked, it was twice as good because of that connection.

  “Care to make an exception?” Holding his gaze, she brazenly slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, her fingers grazing the taut skin right above the waistband of his jeans. “I just want to forget about everything that happened today. I just want to feel good.”

  He tipped his head. “So, I’m your rebound guy?”

  “Would that be so bad?” she asked, tempting him further as her hand dropped lower, finding his weakness and exploiting it . . . his throbbing, aching cock.

  Her palm molded to that column of flesh, already as long and hard as a steel rod. And when she squeezed him through the too-tight denim, he had to bite back a strangled groan of need.

  “I’m not asking for any promises, Connor. I just want you to fuck me,” she said, chipping away at all his good intentions. She raised up on her tiptoes so that her mouth softly, seductively brushed the corner of his. “And judging by the impressive size of your erection, you obviously want the same thing, so please, don’t tell me no.”

  There was only so much teasing a man could take, and she’d just pushed him past his limit. Before he came to his senses—and Jesus, did he really want to deny them both at this point?—he thrust all ten fingers into her hair and around to the back of her head so he was now the one in control and sealed his mouth over hers. Her lips parted on a gasp of surprise, and he didn’t hesitate to sweep his tongue inside so he could thoroughly taste her. She was hotter and sweeter than he’d imagined, and as the kiss intensified even more, she gripped his shoulders and made the sexiest noises in the back of her throat. Heat rushed through him at the thought of hearing more of those erotic sounds as he buried himself eight inches deep inside of her.

  She wanted to fuck? Fine. He’d give her what she wanted, what she needed, without making any personal demands tonight. But tomorrow, before they left Denver and headed home to Chicago, he’d have her last name and number in his cell phone. Because he already knew that one night with Katie wasn’t going to be enough, that he’d want more of her and everything her asshole ex had thrown away.

  And by morning, she’d realize that, too. He’d make sure of it.

  When he finally ended the kiss and lifted his head to look down at her, she was breathing as hard as he was. The desire etching her beautiful features enthralled him. Bringing one hand down to her jaw, he skimmed his thumb along her wet bottom lip, and when she licked the pad of his finger, he felt it all the way down to his cock.

  He groaned, knowing if he didn’t slow things down, he wasn’t going to last long at all. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way,” he told her.

  She blinked languidly at him. “And what way is that?”

  “I want to take my time.” He slowly traced a finger down the red lace framing her breasts, watching as her nipples furled tight and hard against the thin fabric. “We’ve got all night, and I want to enjoy this. I want to enjoy you.”

  “Umm, yes, please,” she whispered in agreement.

  Taking her hand in his, he led her back to the couch. He sat down and drew her closer. “Straddle my lap, sweetheart.”

  With his help, she moved over him, settling her knees on either side of his hips and resting her bottom on his thighs. “Will you take off your shirt?” she asked, and he wasn’t sure why she’d even bothered to ask permission since her hands were already lifting up the hem of his Henley and shoving it up his chest, clearly eager to rid him of the piece of clothing.

  He took over, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. He figured it was only fair that he was half-naked, because it wouldn’t be long before she was, too.

  Her appreciative gaze took in his shoulders and chest as she touched him reverently, hands skimming along his pecs, her thumbs grazing his nipples and her fingers following the taut lines of muscle cutting across his abdomen. She licked her lips like she wanted to put that sultry mouth all over him but didn’t know where to start, though he certainly had plenty of ideas.

  “God, you are so . . . everything,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

  He slid his palms up her bare arms, her skin so incredibly soft beneath his more calloused, work-roughened fingers. “So everything?” he questioned curiously.

  She nodded, those wandering hands of hers feeling up his firm biceps before moving down to his forearms, where her fingers trailed across the tattoos. “So hot. Hard. Gorgeous. Sexy. And big in all the places that count,” she added with a suggestive smile on her lips. “That is not a pencil dick in your pants.”

  He laughed abruptly at their shared joke. “Not even close,” he said, taking credit where it was due.

  Pressing his hands between her shoulder blades, he brought her in closer so he could graze his teeth along her shoulder and nuzzle his damp, parted lips against her neck and inhale her arousing feminine scent. He sucked on her supple skin, loving the way she shivered and moaned and arched toward him so uninhibitedly.

  His fingers found the thin straps holding up her lingerie, and he dragged them both down her arms. “Your turn to show me your chest,” he teased as he sat back against the couch cushion once again and slowly peeled away the lacy material.

  His breath hitched in his throat when her perfect tits bounced free. “Jesus Christ, you’re stunning,” he rasped, and didn’t hesitate to fill his hands with all that beauty. He rolled her diamond-hard nipples between his fingers before giving in to the need to taste her. He licked one deliciously stiff peak, swirled his tongue around her areola, and she buried her fingers in his hair, gripping the strands and holding him there while murmuring the words more, more, more.

  He obliged, his hot, wet mouth taking her deeper, sucking harder, his teeth scraping just enough to add a bit of pleasurable pain that had her whimpering with desire. Her knees locked against his hips, and she rocked against his confined erection, this time chanting please, please, please.

  He dropped a hand between her spread legs, fully expecting to have to deal with the barrier of her panties . . . except, fuck, they were crotchless, and his fingers slid against her bare pussy, granting him immediate access. A possessive growl tore from Connor’s chest, because while Katie might have bought the sexy outfit and underwear for Brice, she’d worn it for him.

  And Jesus, she was already slick with arousal, making it incredibly easy to sink two fingers into all that tight heat. He rubbed his thumb against her clit, stroking that sensitive flesh rhythmically. Her body shuddered, and she dropped her head to his shoulder, her increasingly erratic breaths blowing hot and damp along the side of his neck. With his free hand, he fisted her thick fall of hair and drew her head back so he could look at her flushed face as he fucked her with his fingers, as he brought her closer to the edge. Her mouth was slack with pleasure, her eyes heavy-lidded with heat and passion as they held his gaze and pleaded for the orgasm he wasn’t quite ready to give her.

  “Such a sweet, naughty Valentine,” he said of the thrilling surprise that had greeted him between her thighs and the ease with which he could touch her and stroke her. “Tonight, this pussy is mine, Katie. All mine
. I want to taste it and fuck it and make it feel so damn good.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, moving her hips faster and grinding against his hand more desperately. “Make it feel good, please.”

  Done tormenting her, he crushed his lips to hers, kissing her hard and deep. He increased the pressure and friction of his thumb while quickening the thrusts of his hand to match the sweep of his tongue ravishing her mouth. Her wild, unraveling groan vibrated against his lips, followed by a higher-pitched cry of erotic bliss as her sex pulsed around his fingers and she gave herself over to the intensity of her orgasm.

  * * *

  An annoying pinging sound tried to penetrate Connor’s sleep-fogged brain. One beep right after the other. Irritating as fuck and demanding his attention when he wanted to keep sleeping because, after an entire night of getting to know Katie in the most physical, intimate sense, his body was, quite literally, worn out. In the best possible way.

  Forgetting what had made him stir in the first place, he buried his face back into his pillow, a slow, satisfied grin curving his lips as his mind replayed one of the hottest, sexiest, most fucking phenomenal nights he’d ever spent with a woman. After Katie’s first orgasm out in the living room, they’d taken things into the bedroom, where he’d stripped off her lingerie and the rest of his clothes and really gotten down to the business of making her feel so fucking good that no other man would compare.

  Luckily, he’d had five condoms in his duffel bag, which had been left there from the last weekend trip he’d taken with his ex over a year ago. He’d been grateful to find them, and they’d made good use of each and every one until well after midnight . . . in the bed when he’d fucked her for the first time, then against the wall with her legs wrapped tight around his waist, on the dining room table after they’d taken a break to eat something substantial from room service, in the shower after they’d gotten carried away with the chocolate-covered strawberries he’d requested with their meal, and again with her bent over the mattress while he’d taken her from behind.