The Right Mr. Wrong

by Natalie Anderson

  She shivered and tried to slip away from his touch as she got too hot, too quick. ‘I don’t want to come without you. I want you to be in me.’

  He laughed, again that edge of desperation. ‘Be over too soon.’

  His fingers trailed more, teasing until she was sighing and rocking and escalating towards the peak way, way too quickly.

  So now she needed to do more than speak; she had to seize control. Before she’d always lost control. Always been swept away. She shoved, her hands slapping on his chest. To her delight he fell back, letting her straddle him.

  ‘You gonna break out your whip now?’ he teased.

  She laughed but then shook her head. ‘No pain,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want this to hurt.’

  His laughing expression sobered completely. ‘No.’ Suddenly he moved, sitting up, his sky-high erection solid between them, rubbing against her in a way that had her squirming to lift and slide straight onto him.

  But it was the kiss that killed her. He thrust his fingers into her hair, cradling the back of her head in his broad palm, holding her in place as he kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before. Not just passionate, not just deep.

  But somehow almost desperate—as if he were pouring a part of himself into her. She felt it raining down inside her, filling the gaps with warmth and sweetness.

  Giving.

  Oh, dear Lord, she couldn’t cope with this. She wanted this to be sex. Hot, sweaty, wild sex. She didn’t want something that seemed so much more.

  Trembling, she wrenched her mouth away. That was too savage, too tender, too much. How could it be even more intense than it had been before?

  She pushed away, slipping onto the middle of the big mattress. There had to be a way she could control this better, could put this into the purely sexual box she needed it to be in. She bent her head, trying to cope with the yearning of her body. And heard the hiss of his indrawn breath.

  Smiling, she leaned further forward onto her fists, sending him a glance over her shoulder and registered with pleasure the way his fiery gaze travelled down the length of her—to the part of herself she’d exposed.

  Yeah, that was what he wanted.

  She bent further, presenting herself to him, pressing her face into the pillow, her knees apart, her hips rotating in bold invitation.

  ‘Oh, wow,’ he growled. His hands lifted, smoothing over the curves of her butt as if he couldn’t resist touching.

  And that was what she wanted. Nothing but sex. To be nothing but the receptive female. To feel a mate’s strength pound into her. All animal. Hot, satisfying. Over.

  She waited, feeling him move into position. She groaned as she felt the strength of his thighs lock against hers. She quivered, her body shaking already in a precursor of ultimate pleasure.

  He leaned forward, his hands sliding up from her hips now—up the length of her spine. He slid one hand around her ribs, boldly sweeping, and tweaked her nipple, while his other hand continued up her spine to massage the base of her neck. She angled her head as his fingers worked, she arched her rear up higher, rocking back and forth against the hot, hard erection he was holding back just out of her.

  He gave her nipple another tweak, half laughing as she moaned. But then he slid that hand lower—his hand spread wide, firm down her stomach. Down, down, to the part of her that was burning, ready for him.

  One touch was all it took to make her beg. ‘Oh, please,’ she sobbed. ‘Please, please, please.’

  He thrust hard inside her. The force pushed her face harder into the pillow, muffling her scream. Her fists tightened as she tried to absorb the pleasure as he growled and then rocked into her, again, then again. Oh, he was good. How could she have forgotten just how good? How had she ever thought anyone or anything could ever match up to this? This was the ultimate pleasure for her.

  His fingers toyed, teasing over her too sensitive nub until she was bucking like a wild pony. But his other hand clamped onto her shoulder, holding her in place so he could continue to thrust into her with brute strength, such masculine force, she thought she was going to break apart with the pleasure.

  She closed her eyes, her face locked hot against the feather-filled pillow. She could hardly breathe. But it was good. He couldn’t see into her eyes and take everything from her. Not all her secrets. She just wanted the sex. Wanted the orgasm.

  His fingers tightened on her skin. She relished the slight pain—recognising how close he was to losing control. She wanted that. She wanted it to be a raw, physical, fast explosion. She groaned again and again as he pushed her higher, further until she was so close she—

  ‘Damn it.’ He pulled out.

  ‘What—?’ She fell forward, bereft.

  But he deftly flipped her onto her back. Her lax legs fell apart and in seconds he’d covered her. His chest to hers, his pelvis to hers, his nose to hers. His eyes boring into hers. ‘What do you want? Tell me what you want.’

  ‘You can’t figure it out?’ she growled at him.

  He shook his head. ‘You’re offering, giving. Don’t just offer—take.’

  ‘You didn’t like that?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ he roared through gritted teeth. ‘You make it so easy to take from you. But what do you want?’

  So excited, so exposed, so needy, she was pushed beyond limits—beyond self-preservation. ‘You!’ she breathlessly screamed, her eyes watering. ‘I just want you. All of you.’

  He didn’t move for a moment. Didn’t answer.

  Then he lowered his mouth that last inch and kissed her. Another kiss of the kind before—the one she’d been unable to bear. Explicitly sensual, yes, but also warm and sweet. Loving. And as he kissed her he thrust—slid—straight back inside. So deep, so full, so right.

  He didn’t stop kissing her—his tongue stroking, the rhythm matching that of his hips. He hadn’t just settled over her, he’d sealed them together. So nearly satisfied, she wound her arms tightly around him, her hands spread wide over his muscles, her fingers digging into his tight, flexing butt. She could feel the power of him, but she could also feel the slight trembling, the oversensitive spasms of his body as well as those of her own. The sensations battered her defences, his grip on her body—her heart—too strong.

  She screamed in his mouth, her body clamping around his. Finally, finally, finally he pushed her over the edge—and caught her. And she clung as if he were her life raft. As she convulsed and cried his name over and over, he lifted his head, gazing down at her with absolute satisfaction in his eyes, a beautiful smile on his lips, before he let out a glorious growl of release of his own.

  Vivi collapsed in his embrace. She’d drowned again.

  SIX

  Something was screeching in Liam’s ear. Loud, electronic, incessant.

  ‘Is that your phone?’ Aghast, Liam sat bolt upright in bed, rubbing the gritty feeling from his eyes.

  He blinked in time to see Victoria’s wincing nod as she swiped up the gadget to answer. ‘Hi, Gia. Of course. I’ll be there in three.’ She ended the call and grimaced. ‘I must have slept through.’

  Liam reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her slide from the bed. He didn’t want her to leave. ‘Be where?’ he asked, an ominous feeling in his gut.

  ‘In Reception, waiting for her to turn up.’

  ‘To do what at this hour?’

  ‘She likes to keep fit. She runs for forty-five minutes every day.’

  Liam didn’t let her go as he glanced at the illuminated numbers on the clock on the bedside table. ‘You’re kidding. She wants you to go running with her now?’ At three in the morning?

  She freed her wrist with a sharp twist and stepped away from the bed.

  ‘Gia doesn’t like the paparazzi taking pics of her exercising so she goes out when the world is asleep.’

  Liam’s heart started thudding as if he’d been running for two hours already. ‘Why doesn’t she use the hotel gym?’

  ‘She prefers to exercise o
utdoors. Fresh air. Like many people.’

  ‘Why doesn’t she take a bodyguard? Why does it have to be you?’ He frowned, concern obliterating the remnants of his sleepiness. ‘It’s not safe for the two of you to be out running in the dark streets at this time of night.’

  But Victoria chuckled. ‘She does take a bodyguard. But she likes to talk to me. She gives me instructions.’

  ‘So what, you’re taking dictation while you’re out jogging?’ Appalled, he watched her pull running shorts from her case. ‘You’re prepared for this?’

  ‘We run most mornings.’ She tossed the shorts and sports-singlet on the bed and walked through to the bathroom.

  ‘But you worked so late.’ And she’d got to sleep so much later. He slid out of bed to follow, watching as she efficiently flicked on the shower. Part of him wanted to step in after her so he could soap her up. Most of him wanted her to come back to bed. Now.

  ‘It’s the way she works.’ She lathered the soap. ‘She doesn’t need a lot of sleep.’

  ‘What about you? Don’t you need sleep?’

  ‘I can sleep later.’ She swiped soapy bubbles around her body.

  ‘But you won’t.’ He frowned and pulled a towel from the rail for her. ‘You’re too busy organising Gia’s life and running errands and keeping Alannah out of trouble.’

  ‘It’s good for me to keep fit too.’

  ‘It’s not good for anyone to have their sleep interrupted like this. This is the middle of the night. This is bad for your body clock.’ And bad for every single one of his internal organs. He didn’t want her to go.

  She rinsed off and plucked the towel from his fingers. ‘My body clock is just fine.’

  His blood was running cold; he gritted his teeth but it didn’t stop the chills spreading down his spine. He didn’t want her to walk out on him. He didn’t want to lose what he’d just found. He wanted her to stay. He’d do whatever he had to to make her stay. ‘We only got to sleep half an hour ago, you know.’

  Oh, Victoria knew. He’d asked her again and again what she wanted. And she’d told, she’d taken. She’d indulged so many fantasies. Only now she had so many more. And, man, she wished he’d pick up a towel to put around his hips. He was distraction incarnate. She bent to jam her feet into trainers and tie her laces and avoid looking at him. Then she made it to the door.

  But he was waiting there for her.

  His hands swept over her body—one around her waist, one sneakily slipping up her thigh. She couldn’t resist another look at him. He was as hard as iron.

  ‘You’re panting already,’ he drawled in her ear. ‘How are you going to run for forty-five when you’re already as breathless as this?’

  ‘Don’t tease.’ She leaned against the door for support, letting herself enjoy this last touch.

  ‘I’m not teasing.’ His grin proved him a liar. ‘I’m seriously concerned for your welfare.’

  ‘I—’ Her phone chimed again. She glanced at the screen but didn’t take the call. ‘I’ll tell her I was in the elevator and didn’t have reception.’

  The last thing she wanted to do was go running and listen to all the things Gia wanted her to do today. Not to mention do all the soothing, calming talk if the boss was panicking about something. Which no doubt she would be. Because she always was. But Vivi had to go.

  ‘Victoria.’ He settled both hands on her waist. Firmly. His smile fading. ‘No job is worth this.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘This one is.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m Gia’s longest serving assistant. We have trust. I’m not letting her down.’

  ‘You have trust? What would happen if you didn’t go?’

  Vivi didn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about that.

  ‘I don’t care how much she pays you, she’s asking too much.’

  ‘You can’t accuse me of being a workaholic.’ She deflected the argument back on him. ‘You’re way worse than me.’

  ‘I had to work. There were people relying on me. Pulling a company back from the brink is almost harder than building one from scratch.’

  ‘You don’t think I have to work?’ Her temper flared. ‘I’m the one who ended up alone in London with no money, no friends, no family. I got this job on my own and I’m damn well going to keep it. And what makes you think I can’t cope with working as hard as you?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ He let out a frustrated growl. ‘I admit I worked like a dog. Most of the time I still do. Every bit the same kind of crazy hours as you. But there’s a crucial difference. This company is mine. It’s all my effort. It’s my baby. I’m in control of it.’

  ‘So working for someone else isn’t as good?’ she snapped. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’

  His frown was quick, so was his attempt to explain. ‘You’re a talented person. You had design ideas of your own back then. Maybe you should be doing more for yourself.’

  More? More like what? ‘This may be hard for your feeble brain to compute,’ she said crossly, ‘but I find it rewarding to support another person.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He leaned forward. ‘And it seems to me you’ve ended up in the exact same position you were in five years ago. Running around doing everything anyone asked of you. Doing everything for other people and not for yourself. Not taking care of yourself. Answer me this—do you really want to go?’

  ‘It’s not about what I want.’

  He looked frustrated. ‘You’re already regressing? Unable to say what you really want? Too scared of Gia’s disapproval?’

  ‘I have responsibilities.’

  ‘Unreasonable ones.’ He looked furious. ‘If you go, I won’t be here when you get back. And I won’t come back.’

  Vivi froze. ‘Is that a threat?’ She glared up at him. ‘Because that’s unreasonable.’

  Just who did he think he was? She couldn’t give up her life again. And that was what this would be. If she refused Gia now, she’d be sacked on the spot.

  ‘Can you put what you want first?’ he asked. ‘Not what I want. Not Gia. But you.’

  ‘No, this is only about what you want. You say I can ask you anything? You only mean sexually. You still don’t listen. You don’t respect what I do. What I want.’

  He still only wanted to win. To be the one she chose. And for what?

  Of course she wanted to remain locked in his embrace. But she wanted more. Already she wanted more. Being intimate with him only worsened her attraction to him. He was like a drug. Her absolute addiction. Addictions were never a good thing. Too much led to bad. And here it was already—the request to bow to his will. And the thing was—he didn’t want more. He’d made that crystal clear.

  He’d stilled, his hands at his sides. Fisted. ‘You said one night.’

  ‘Yeah, and my night is over. The day has begun.’ And she really needed to get moving—away from him. She needed to get on the first plane back to London.

  ‘Whereas my night has a few hours left.’ He stepped back into her space. His fingers skimmed the edge of her shorts.

  She couldn’t hide her instinctive shiver—not just from his touch, but the determination, the intensity in his eyes.

  ‘Victoria,’ he asked softly. ‘How long do you think you can last?’

  She stiffened—he knew, didn’t he? How much his touch affected her. This was a deliberate attempt to seduce her. Too bad. Because she’d lasted years and she wouldn’t be bowled by him again. ‘It was only sex, Liam.’ And she’d had other sex. Good sex even.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Only the best sex of your life.’

  ‘All right, yes. The best. That satisfy you?’ She paused, admitting the truth hurt. But it was true. It had always been there, had never gone away, never died. It had only taken one look, one fraction of a second, to burst back to life stronger than ever. But it was all he wanted and it wasn’t enough. ‘It’s lust. It’s purely chemical. For some reason my body thinks yours is the best one on the planet to procreate with. But yo
u’re not the best person for me. You’re not Mr Right. We want different things.’ She shored up her defence—reminded herself of what she’d worked so hard for. ‘We’re both career driven, we live in separate countries. I can’t give up my life again. And you wouldn’t want me to. You’ve said it yourself—you don’t want more. This has to stop. I can’t let this happen again.’

  When she’d been with him, it had been as if the rest of the world could crumble around them. Such a cliché. He’d been her escape. But he’d also been her prison. In the end she’d needed to be free of that too. The intensity still frightened her.

  He stepped back, looking oddly pale under the dim light from the bedside table. ‘You regret it.’

  ‘I think...’ She hesitated again. ‘Yes.’

  ‘This life you got going isn’t that great,’ he said. ‘Not when you have to go on freaking training runs at three in the morning. But you can’t say no. You’re afraid to stand up for yourself for fear of rejection.’

  ‘There’s a major point of difference you’re missing. Gia pays me.’

  ‘You’re still scared of her. Of disapproval.’

  ‘I choose to work for her. You’re as hot-headed as ever, like some bulldozer barging into a situation and not getting the subtleties. Doing and getting what only you want regardless of the impact on anyone else. Did you know Gia was due a holiday after Milan? Your demands ruined it.’

  ‘Gia is a machine who never needs rest,’ Liam scoffed. ‘The person who missed out on the break was you. And you can’t ask her for it because you’re completely afraid. You’re still too scared to be honest.’

  ‘Oh, I can be honest. But you can’t seem to listen. Here’s some honesty for you. I want you out of my room. Out of my life.’ She couldn’t cope with him—with the power of her emotions. Not when it wasn’t reciprocated. When for him it was just sex and for her it was everything.