Sinful Intentions

by Amy Redwood

  A sigh of relief on her lips, she climbed out of the car and drew in a deep breath, inhaling a rich jasmine-like scent. Countless shrubs with creamy-white tubular flowers grew in front of the hotel. The haunting perfume of the night bloomers had attracted insects, which frantically fluttered around the delicate petals.

  A large, velvety-green moth kept on bumping against the glass doors of the lobby. “Me too,” she said quietly to the moth—all she wanted was to get inside. She closed her eyes and saw herself already tucked up in bed after a hot shower, but when she opened her eyes again, she saw him unfurling gracefully out of the cab, wearing dark denim, a button-down shirt under a thin leather jacket. His hair was short, dark like his eyes, and his face had the roughness of an unpolished diamond—her girlfriends would drool all over him.

  Looking at him was like drinking a shot of espresso—she wasn’t remotely tired anymore. He had edges to rub against, she thought, and lifted her chin when he stopped in front of her.

  “Since I stole your cab, I paid the driver.”

  She met his gaze and all energy to argue drained away. “Thanks.” She held her hand out to say goodbye. His hand closed around hers, in his eyes the sparkle of a smile. His touch zinged up her arm, tightened her breasts and sent a quiver between her legs.

  As if burned, she let go of his hand.

  He gave her another thoughtful look, returned to the car’s trunk and gathered her suitcase. She opened her mouth to protest then closed it hastily when a moth came fluttering against her face.

  She waved the moth away, saying, “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

  “Carrying the suitcase to the room.” Her suitcase in his hand, he walked toward the hotel lobby. “Much too heavy for you.”

  “They have people for that,” she called after him, but he didn’t even hear her anymore.

  She stared after him. Not that she wasn’t grateful for help, but was he hitting on her? Her heartbeat increased, seeing him standing in the lobby, clearly waiting for her to come after him. A jolt of excitement surprised her. The possibility of running her fingers again along his muscled thigh kicked up something low in her stomach and heated her face.

  She glanced at her hands.

  No ring graced her finger and his attention clearly stroked her bruised ego. She scratched the spot where her engagement ring had rested.

  “Fuck you, Simon,” she said quietly, and headed into the lobby to check in. “Time to get even.”

  ———

  They had taken the elevator to the tenth floor where her suite was located. The silence between them settled heavy on her skin, and she was afraid he would hear her too-fast heartbeat.

  Holding the plastic keycard, she found the right number and opened the door to a pitch-black room.

  “I can handle the rest from here.” She stretched her arm out to get her suitcase, but he pushed past her, found and switched on a green-shaded desk lamp and placed her suitcase in the middle of the dimly illuminated suite.

  O-kay.

  “Are you always so straightforward?” The door closed with a soft thud as she stepped after him into the room.

  “Only with Yankees.” His dark gaze moved over her body and shivers erupted all over her skin. “Now that I’ve taken care of the suitcase, anything else you need help with?”

  Yes, help me take off my clothes.

  Damn it, she had waited for him to make the first move and take the decision out of her hands, yet he wanted an invitation. But her earlier excitement was replaced by tightness in her throat and courage failed her.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea…”

  “Depends on the idea.” He took a step closer, another one until she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. “I’ll make damn sure you’ll enjoy the one I have.”

  “You’re pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” His warm breath against her face, she shot a quick glance at the bed. It stood in the corner in front of what appeared to be windows but thick curtains were drawn. The snow-white linens looked crisp and cool.

  She couldn’t do it. One-nighters weren’t for her…were they?

  “Let’s try something,” he said so quietly she gazed back at him.

  He had a good mouth. Wide with a nice bottom lip. Simon’s was thinner, she thought, and froze when he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. The front of her thighs, hipbones, stomach touched him as he held her tight. Her breath left her with a soft gasp as she found him hard. His mouth touched hers ever so lightly, as if he were afraid she’d bite.

  Beard stubble on his chin grazed her skin, the feeling of his lips on hers unfamiliar but…pleasant. More than that. She angled her head, parted her lips to his, a moan at the back of her throat. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her like this, so gentle. Yet her heart thumped in her throat and a couple of butterflies took flight in her stomach. Lifting her arm, she cupped her hand around his neck.

  “See,” he said against her lips, “that wasn’t so bad, right?”

  She let out a breathless laugh. “I still think you’re pretty full of yourself. And I have no idea why I…why I…” Heat rushed to her face. She wasn’t comfortable admitting that the sensation of his hard cock against her stomach while he was kissing her had made her panties tellingly damp. “Frankly, I don’t know why you turn me on.”

  “It’s chemistry,” he said, his grin showing her he wasn’t taking her rather blunt words amiss. “Or let’s call it lust. But in any case, it would be a shame not to act on it.”

  “Lust,” she repeated, feeling a bubble of anger rise inside her. “I fear I’m not good at giving in to lust with random strangers.” Simon was though. He’d felt no qualms in fucking a complete stranger mere days before the wedding. Anger gripped her gut tighter, heated her face. “But I sure as hell can learn.” She reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “Fuck me,” she whispered, a thrill running down her spine and hitting her core at hearing her own words. She fingered his shirt, but her hands were too shaky to open the buttons so she tried ripping the shirt open.

  “Hold it right there,” he said, catching her hands. “You can’t rush proper welcome sex.”

  “Welcome sex?” she repeated. “What—”

  “We’re going to have welcome-to-Auckland sex,” he said with a laugh, and drew her hands behind her back, arching her slightly. “But we’ll do it slowly.”

  “No, I want it fast.” Before she lost her courage, before she regained her wits, before the aching need to feel him inside her disappeared. She freed her hands and cupped him, had him cursing as she stroked his erection. “Oh Lord,” she whispered, running her palm once more over the thick bulge.

  He laughed, shrugged out of his thin leather jacket, threw it over the next chair. Before she knew it, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. “Let’s cool you off.” He marched toward the bathroom.

  “No!” she yelled. “I don’t want to cool off or I’ll—”

  “What? Lose your nerve?” He set her down in front of the wide shower and switched on the water. “Don’t worry about that, won’t happen.”

  “How do you know,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. “I might just change my mind again.”

  “Well, it’s not that you’re not allowed to do so,” he said, starting to open her blouse from the top, “just say the word while I get you out of your clothes.” He uncrossed her arms, working the buttons until the last slid through its hole. He took a step back. “On second thought, I want to watch you take them off.”

  She mutely shook her head, almost vibrating with tension. “I’m so not going to strip for you, ’cause I’m not a, not a—”

  “Stripper?” He had the nerve to wink as if it were a joke. “Come on, Yankee. We both know the reason you decided to jump me. Let’s have a little fun while we’re at it.” He pulled his shirt from his pants, opened it with steady fingers, shrugged out of it. He hung it on a hook behind the door. She caught a gl
impse of a large tattoo on his left shoulder blade, but before she could make sense of it, he’d faced her again. “Your turn.”

  Steam started billowing through the bath as she stared at his bare, muscled chest and over his ripped stomach.

  The faster she stripped, the faster she would get her hands all over him. She wiggled her shoulders and let the open blouse glide to the floor.

  “The bra too,” he said, sounding hoarse.

  She’d never felt like a tease, but she did now. “What,” she said, “this thing?” She ran her fingers underneath the straps, pushed them from her shoulders. She turned her back to him, opened the clasp, let the bra drop. She cupped her breasts into her hands and turned to face him. “Your pants.”

  He kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt.

  She stared at his boxer briefs as he shrugged out of his pants, shocked to feel a needy twinge in her pussy. Her hands fell to her sides, leaving her breasts naked to his eyes. She heard a deep rumble in his throat, or maybe it was just the shower, but she kept her gaze on the outline of his thick, hard cock and kicked off her heels. He shouldn’t be able to turn her on like this, but damn, she wanted to know how tightly she would fit around him.

  “I’ll enjoy getting you all wet.” He nodded toward the steamed-up shower and grinned.

  “I’m already wet,” she whispered, seeking his gaze.

  “Skirt.” The amusement in his eyes had changed to raw lust. “And you‘d better be quick about it if you want it to stay in one piece.”

  Her hands shook when she unzipped her skirt, shimmied out of it. She picked it up, threw it toward him. “Here, my skirt.”

  He snatched it up in one hand, scrunched it in his fist.

  She slipped her fingers inside the waistband of her panties, tugged slightly. “Want my panties too?”

  “No worries, I’ll take it from here,” he said, taking such a quick step toward her that she took one back. He tossed her skirt in the bathtub. Water hit her shoulders as she backed away from him and into the shower.

  Tipping her head into the stream of water, she let out a sigh of pure bliss. Blindly she removed the pins holding her hair up and let it slick down her shoulders. She heard the shower door snick shut and opened her eyes.

  The shower spray hit the dark hair dusting his chest. For a second, her gaze dipped to his cock resting erect against his flat stomach. Weak at the knees, she lifted her face to him. Tiny water drops clung to his lashes. “Hi,” she said quietly, marveling at how comfortable she felt sharing the shower with him and how uneasy she’d been in the cab just moments before. Probably her biggest change of heart ever.

  He gave her a predatory grin and slapped his right hand next to her head against the shower tiles. “Hi, Yankee, you look good almost naked.” He wrapped his free hand around her waist, drew her close.

  Her breasts flattened against his chest, his cock hot between their wet bodies. She closed her eyes again when he lowered his head. Finding and kissing a spot underneath her ear, he made a rough sound in his throat that had her shivering in anticipation of how he would sound when he thrust inside her. She moaned when he closed his hand around her breast, teased her nipple.

  “Point of no return,” he said, his voice rougher than before, the grip around her breast firm and demanding. “If you’ve changed your mind I’d love to hear it now.”

  “Because you won’t take no for an answer later?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “Because you’ll tell me to stop and I won’t listen,” he said with a smirk, and leaned in. “So make of that what you want.”

  She rose on tiptoes, meeting his kiss halfway. Need slammed into her body as she tangled her tongue with his, her breath coming in short, hard gasps as his kiss turned possessive and deep. “More,” she said, grasping his shoulder and trying to pull him in to her again as he broke the kiss. Water streamed over her face, into her eyes, but she didn’t care.

  When he went to his knees, she sucked in her breath. Water poured down on him, slicking his hair to his head, and he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties. He tugged them over her hips in one smooth motion and let them drop to her feet. She braced her hands against the wet tile when she realized he’d stayed on his knees.

  The first flick of his tongue against her clit had her groaning out in pleasure. Her thighs started quivering as he gave her another lick, and this time she was sure the deep rumble had come from his throat. It was an animalistic, primal sound and a chill ran down her back.

  “Spread your legs wider,” he said, tracing a finger through her folds. She could feel his warm breath against her skin as his mouth took her again. Digging her nails into her palm, she spread her legs for him, crying out as he sucked at her clit. Like a reflex, her hips moved tighter against his face. A deep ache spread in her belly, powerful and agonizing in its intensity.

  “Don’t,” she pressed through her teeth as he slipped one finger inside her pussy. The shallow thrusts made it worse and she moaned out her frustration.

  “Does that feel good?” he asked, and thrust two fingers inside her and slowly moved them in and out.

  She clenched around him, willing him to move faster, and groaned when his tongue flicked at her clit. “No,” she moaned, wondering how satisfying it would feel if instead of his fingers he would push his thick cock inside her pussy. She cried out as he pumped three fingers inside her, his mouth sucking her clit.

  He began pounding his fingers into her and pleasure peaked instantly and fast. She screamed out as her orgasm caught her by surprise. Her pussy convulsed around his fingers as he drove her on. She tunneled her fingers into his hair as another ripple of intense pleasure coursed through her body and made her legs quiver.

  “Goddamn it, stop,” she breathed out, relieved when he rose to his feet.

  “Let’s get you somewhere horizontal.” He switched off the shower, grabbed a towel and ignored her stream of swear words as he swept her up in his arms to carry her out the bathroom and toward the bed.

  Chapter Three

  She landed unladylike onto the bed, bouncing slightly as her bare ass hit the mattress. The faint scent of lemony laundry detergent wafted up from the bed as she grabbed a pillow. While her knees still felt as if they were made of jelly, she didn’t appreciate that he treated her as if she had two broken legs.

  “Here,” she said, waving her foot in the air, “I’m perfectly able to walk alone.” She aimed, grinned when the pillow hit him square in the chest.

  “I’ll try to keep it in mind the next time,” he said, rubbing his chest where she’d hit him. “Good shot, by the way.” He threw a bath towel toward her, which landed on her stomach and covered her to her knees.

  “We both know there won’t be a next time,” she said quietly. “Right?”

  He threw her a glance, a calculating look in his eyes. “Well, you might not be able to keep your hands off me after tonight.”

  “You really are full of it.”

  He’d switched off the lamp and opened the heavy curtains, revealing floor-to-ceiling windows. The city lights illuminated the room better than the desk lamp and she wondered if he knew how romantic his gesture was. The view couldn’t compare to downtown Manhattan, but her breath still caught, oddly pleased that he evidently took the time to set a mood. Or maybe he hadn’t thought at all and acted on impulse, she thought dryly.

  She propped herself up on her arms. Drops of water ran from her forehead over her cheeks and she brushed her wet curls away from her face. Again she spotted the tattoo on his shoulder blade but it was almost as if he ensured that she didn’t get a good look at it. Maybe he’d gotten it while he was drunk, yet she couldn’t imagine him losing control like that.

  She drank all of him in, from his dark hair, to his obsidian eyes, wide shoulders, trim hips. A tingle of nerves spread through her belly, mixing strangely with the deep lust she still felt deep within her. She loved the sight of his muscular thighs as he walked around the room—he took
a silver foil square from the inside pocket of his jacket—but what had her slightly worried was that his cock looked almost bigger now, outside the shower.

  “Thoughtful,” she commented, grateful for his action. “So they come in your size too?”

  “Tailor-made,” he said with a grin, and stopped at the foot of the bed, looked at her with a hunger that was incredibly flattering—but even more arousing. “Are you feeling cold?” he asked, his gaze roaming over every inch not covered by the towel.

  She brushed over her arms, smoothing down chill bumps, but they were all over her skin. Her nipples stood erect and ached to be touched. “Not cold,” she whispered. “I just want you.”

  His eyebrow jumped up slightly as if he was questioning her words. “What you want, Yankee, is revenge.”

  She winced, his words stinging. “You’re not one to sugarcoat things, are you?” He didn’t answer, didn’t need to. Revenge was a fucked-up motivation, but how often in her life had she taken the highroad?

  Too often.

  She held his dark gaze, studied the curve of his full lips, the line of his jaw. She really wanted him. Yes, she needed the release, wanted it badly, but no one else would do right now. She wanted him on top of her, his cock thrusting inside her, his mouth everywhere. And for all her second-guessing and doubts, she somehow knew she wouldn’t regret this night. “I want you,” she repeated, her voice steady. “And we’re done discussing this.”

  “Yeah, we’re done talking.” His mouth twisted into a smile, the first time she’d seen him smile like that, not grinning, mocking, teasing, but a smile that dimpled his cheek and lit up his eyes. He wrapped his hand around her ankle as he sat down on the bed, the mattress yielding under his weight, the sheets crumpling. Drops of water still clung to his chest and her throat went dry when his hand slid up her leg and under the towel.

  Leaning forward, he let his hand glide over the inside of her thigh. His gaze locked into hers as he reached her center. “Damn,” he groaned, trailing one finger lazily through her slick folds as if he had all the time in the world.