by Cathryn Fox
In a move that seemed to take her by surprise, he spun her around and scooped her up—despite that being her first request on their contact contract. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he hurried to his bedroom, needing her naked so he could do things to her—dirty, delicious things, like bury his face between her legs until she came for him. Some small, coherent part of him registered that he always had sex at upscale hotels, never in his bed, and that he was breaking all his rules with her, but he was too far gone down a path he shouldn’t be traveling to consider the implications of his actions.
Using careful movements, he placed her on the edge of his bed. She shifted to the center and spread her arms and legs. He cursed under his breath. If she started making snow angels, he’d have no choice but to go at her like the fucking devil himself. She pulled her damp hair out from beneath her and splayed it over his pillow.
“Parker,” she said, reaching for him.
He tore off his sweater and T-shirt and kicked off his jeans. As his cock sprang free, her eyes widened, the soft brown deepening. Christ almighty, had she never seen a cock before? She was innocent, yes, but no way could she be that innocent, right?
He studied her expression, a knot tightening in his gut. “Layla,” he began.
She lifted her hips, and as her body beckoned his, it was all he could do to think straight. “I want to touch you,” she whispered. The need in her voice as she reached across the bed and ran her warm, soft fingers over his girth, shut down his last working brain cell.
“Fuck, yes,” he murmured, his train of thought derailing. Why did everything feel so good with her? Wait, what was it he was going to ask her? Fuck, how could he be expected to remember anything when she was stroking him like that, exploring every inch of his cock and torturing the living fuck out of him? A second hand joined the first, rubbing and teasing the long length of him. He throbbed and jerked forward, needing more…everything. It was frightening how much he wanted her.
He closed his eyes, taking deep labored breaths to get his shit together as pressure brewed between his legs. “Enough,” he said, and wrapped his fingers around her wrists to remove her hands.
Dark lashes flashed, the soft pink stain on her cheeks the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He slid onto the bed, crawling between her knees. Going back on his heels, he took his sweet time staring at her, despite the throbbing between his legs.
“You are so beautiful, and just so you know, a man would have to be blind not to notice you.”
“You noticed me?” she asked.
He laughed, but it held no humor. “Yeah.” He leaned forward, his hands spanning her waist as he pushed her tank top up until her gorgeous breasts were exposed. “Take this off for me,” he said, unable to tear his eyes away from her hard nipples. His mouth watered as she bent at the waist, lifting herself from the mattress and bringing her body closer to his. Her chest rose and fell erratically as she peeled the shirt over her head and tossed it away. Warm breath scorched his chest, and his blood pressure soared as he knelt a moment longer, taking in her natural beauty as his body registered every delicious detail.
He fell over her, shifting to balance on one arm. “These,” he said, “these need my mouth.”
“Yes,” she said with a certainty that brought a smile to his face
“But first here,” he said pushing her hair back to expose the long column of her neck. He brushed his tongue along the hollow in her throat, the taste of her skin fucking with his mind.
She moved against him, her body conveying without words what she wanted, and he slid lower, to swipe his tongue across her sensitized nipples.
“Oh…yes,” she murmured, her hands going around his head and fisting his hair. He licked and nibbled, sucked and tugged gently with his teeth. She moved and writhed, everything in her beckoning his touch, demanding his attention elsewhere on her body.
Even though he hadn’t spent nearly as much time on her breasts as he would have liked, he consoled himself with the fact that they’d be doing this again. Now that he had a taste of her, it would take an army to keep him from her. But right now, she needed his mouth between her legs, and who was he not to honor that request.
He slid down her body, pressing his nose against her soft flesh and filling his lungs with her scent as he shimmied lower. His tongue met with the band of her pants and he went back on his heels again.
“Lift,” he said, and when her hips came up, the same move she pulled in the kitchen the first night he brought her home, he was sure he’d died and gone to heaven.
He tugged the band. “When you move like this, do you have any idea what it does to me?”
She shook her head, those big eyes wide and innocent. “No.”
“Do you want to know?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly, her hips still in the air as he tugged, slowly exposing her sweet sex.
He removed her pants, spread her legs wide for better access, and gripped his cock. He stroked it, showing her just how hard she made him. “This…this is what it does to me.” Her breath came in a ragged burst as he rubbed himself. “When you move like that, it makes me crazy. Turns me into a fucking caveman. The night I bandaged your knee, you’re lucky I didn’t flip you over, spread your legs and pound into you.”
“Oh.”
He laughed. “That’s all you have to say, oh?”
“I might have liked that.”
“Fuck,” he said. As her eyes caressed him with heat, he leaned forward, and buried his face between her legs. Her throaty purr resonated through him when he gave her one long stroke, widening her lips with his tongue. Her body quaked at the first sweet touch of his tongue to her clit.
“Parker,” she murmured, her hips lifting in the way that made him batshit crazy. Desire twisted inside him when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged. “That is so good.” He flattened his tongue, lapping her slowly, gently, swirling the soft blade around her swollen nub, making her as crazed as he was.
He slid a finger inside her, and she whimpered. Fuck, she was tight. How the hell would he last? His cock throbbed, screaming at him for release. He drew a shaky breath, and stroked the hot bundle of nerves inside her as he drew her clit into his mouth for a long luxurious suck. Her sweet taste exploded on his tongue, and he growled as she moved her body against his mouth.
“Just like that,” she cried out, a desperate edge to her voice.
He moved his finger in and out, stoking the fire inside her. She moaned and he tilted his head back to see her. When his gaze met eyes full of urgent need, his heart slammed inside his chest, loving that look on her face.
Turning his attention back to the needy spot between her legs, he flicked his tongue out and applied more pressure to her clit, desperate to ease the tension inside her. The sound of her indrawn breath filled the air, and her sex clenched around his finger.
“That’s it,” he whispered, their moans of pleasure blending. As her body trembled from head to toe, he stayed between her legs, drawing out her pleasure, until she came back down to earth. He gave her one last feathery light caress, then climbed up her body.
His mouth found hers, and his cock throbbed at her sexy sigh of pleasure. He pushed her damp hair from her forehead, as her arms went around his neck. He peppered kisses over her jaw, her throat, hunger consuming his thoughts as he whispered, “I need to be inside you.”
“I need that, too,” she said.
His muscles bunched as he repositioned, and something niggled in the back of his arousal-fogged brain. He reached for the thought, pulling it to the forefront. Oh, shit, right. “Condom,” he murmured. Christ, how could he have forgotten about a condom? What the hell was this woman doing to him?
Her arms tightened around his back, and while he knew he needed to move, he couldn’t bring himself to break the contact. So much for his offer to draw up a contact contract.
“Hurry,” she said, pulling him closer and making moving difficult. He quickly extricated himself, grabbed a
condom from his nightstand, and rolled it on.
He fell back over her, and she ran her nails over his back, a vicious tease, that alluded to the fact that she might not be as inexperienced as he first thought she was. Good. He didn’t want to be the guy to take away anyone’s innocence, especially hers.
Her legs slid around his back and tightened, and as her thighs hugged his hips, his hunger turned carnal, scaring him a little bit. With raw need overwhelming him and messing with his ability to think with clarity, he powered into her, momentarily meeting with resistance as he worked to seat himself inside. But he was too far gone, too lost in the moment for the barrier to register. All he could think about was how good she fucking felt as he sank deep into her plush softness. She gasped, her fingers clawing at his back.
“Parker,” she cried out, her tight muscles squeezing so hard, it took every ounce of strength he had not to lose it.
A moan built on far too many months of sexual need rumbled in his throat as blinding pleasure raced through his blood. Unable to think, only able to feel, he rocked into her, as he gave her every inch of himself. Her breath was hot on his neck, as he drove impossibly deeper, taking full possession of her body, pounding into her, unable to get deep enough. Pressure brewed, coming to a peak, and he clenched down, needing this to end almost as much as he needed it to continue.
“Layla,” he whispered, burying his face in her throat, as he slipped a hand between their bodies to stroke her. She sucked in air, quick, shallow pants as he steered her to the precipice a second time. He angled his body, powering in to her, taking her deeper, needing… Fuck, he didn’t know what he needed.
A tremor wracked her body, and he moaned against her throat. As she squeezed his cock, he let go, his climax sending ripples onward and upward through his body. Fuck, sex had never felt so good. His cock throbbed and pulsed, as he depleted himself high inside her.
Body drained, he fell over her, crushing her with his weight as he worked to breathe, the effects of his orgasm still messing with his brain. A minute passed, then two, and he lifted his head to see her. Her sweet breath rushed over his face and fired his arousal again.
“Hey,” he murmured.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, her smile so angelic and pure, it made him feel a little peculiar, and almost had him forgetting he didn’t do relationships.
As he took in her innocent sensuality, his mind once again began to work, but as soon as he had a working brain cell, reality hit like a sucker punch, and his bliss—the high from his release—disappeared. He pulled out and jerked backward, settling himself on his knees between her legs.
Holy. Fuck.
Unease wound its way through his body as his gaze moved over her face. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he swiped at it. “You were a virgin,” he said, a statement not a question.
“Yeah,” she responded, her voice not quite steady.
He gripped a fistful of his hair and tugged. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She gave a casual roll of one shoulder. “Why does it matter?”
“It just does, okay?”
She frowned in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I thought, I didn’t want…” He shook his head, trying to wrap his brain around all this. “Your first time shouldn’t have been with me, Layla. Not with a guy like me.”
“But that’s what I wanted,” she said quickly. She sat up and touched his shoulder, and he flinched, feeling like a world-class prick for taking her virginity. Christ, everything about her screamed inexperience. He should have fought harder to control himself. Should have sent her home a week ago. Should have drawn up the contract.
Why the hell didn’t he?
A curtain of hair fell over her shoulder, and she brushed it back, exposing her naked body. “I didn’t want my first time to be with some fumbling boy from college or the coffee shop. I wanted a man, one with experienced hands.”
He put his hands on his thighs and looked at them. Yeah, they were experienced, but fuck, after touching Layla, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to touch another.
“Did I hurt you?” Jesus, if he hurt her he’d never forgive himself.
She gave a fast shake of her head. “No.”
His stomach churned. “Stop lying to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Layla,” he managed to say around the lump pushing into his throat.
“Okay, it hurt a bit. But that’s normal. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me.” A wave of tenderness swamped him as he took in her worried expression, the way her lashes were fluttering over her big brown eyes. “Next time will be better for you, I promise.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her, trying to ignore the possessive tug on his emotions. “You deserve that much from me.”
He drew a calming breath and closed his eyes, working to understand what the hell just happened. He’d always been in control of every aspect of his life, his work, and his feelings. Except when it came to Layla, that control was slowly disappearing.
But he couldn’t be with her outside of the physical. He was totally anti-marriage; a jaded asshole who didn’t trust in love—women always wanted something from him. He couldn’t give her anything other than a good time in bed. Not that she wanted more from him anyway. She’d told him she wasn’t looking for anything other than one night, and when her apartment was ready, she’d be out of there.
Chapter Eight
Layla couldn’t help but smile, her body hurting in places it never had before. But it was a good sore, a great one really, and reminded her of the way Parker had taken her only a few short hours ago. It kind of surprised her that he made such a big deal out of her virginity, that after sex he ran her a tub with bath salts and sat on the edge to watch over her while she bathed. Her heart squeezed. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall hard for the guy, and that would be a huge mistake. She had a career to concentrate on. Falling for some billionaire who didn’t believe in marriage—not that she did, either—could only distract her from her goals, and she swore long ago, never to get sidetracked, never to find herself uneducated and alone—or knocked up—like her mother.
“What are you doing?”
Parker’s voice came from behind her, and she spun around. “I couldn’t sleep.”
As his gaze left hers to move over the ingredients on the countertop, she took in his low-slung jeans and bare chest. He was so beautiful. “So you thought you’d make cookies?”
“Yeah, you want to help?”
He shrugged. “Sure. It’s not like I can sleep with you out here making so much noise.”
She laughed. “You don’t sleep anyway. I hear you wandering at all hours.” She handed him a measuring cup and bag of chocolate chips. “Fill this.” He took it from her, and she eyed him. “What’s going on in that head of yours that keeps you up half the night anyway?”
“Work.”
He tossed a chocolate chip into his mouth, and as he chewed, warmth streaked through her. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d had sex with him, or how comfortable she felt with him afterwards, how tender and sweet he was. Sure, she’d set out to seduce him, but all week he seemed hell-bent on keeping his distance—not that she could blame him after outlining the contract—until last night.
With a new closeness between them, she nudged him with her elbow. “Tell me more.”
“It’ll bore you.”
“The museum bored you. I owe you one,” she teased, and held the bowl out, and indicated for him to dump the chocolate chips in. “Talk.” As she stirred, he tossed a few more chocolate chips into his mouth.
“I’m having a hell of a time getting less expensive suppliers, and still keeping the same quality product.”
“Uh…”
He laughed and sat down on the stool across from her as she grabbed a spoon and dropped dollops of dough onto the pan. “My team and I are designing glasses for the blind.”
Her
eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, I think I remember reading something about that in the paper. Tell me more.”
She stopped working as she listened, taking in the fine worry lines around his eyes as he talked, explaining his mission. She had to admit, the whole thing was rather fascinating.
“I’m impressed.”
“You should be.”
She grinned. “Wait until you taste one of these.” Turning, she adjusted the temperature on the oven and slid the tray in. “They won’t give anyone the gift of sight, but they sure do taste good.”
“Come here,” he said, pushing his chair away from the counter. She stepped up to him, and he widened his legs, pulling her in between. His gaze moved over her face as he pushed her hair back. “Why are you really up?”
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t sleep. Probably exam stress.”
He arched a brow. “Still stressed? You know I can take care of that right?”
She laughed and swatted him. “One-track mind much?” Then again, who was she to talk? All she could think about was Parker, the way he’d touched her—the way she wanted him to touch her again.
“Yeah, I know, but it’s too soon for you.”
She was going to come back with some smart-ass comment about how she’d be the judge of that, but the dark circles around his eyes changed her focus. “Was the idea for the glasses yours?”
“Yeah.”
“I think it’s brilliant.”
“If I don’t get production costs down, I can kiss the project goodbye.”
“But these glasses will make SKYWEB millions, right? Why the worry about production costs?”
“If costs are too high, the glasses will be priced out of the market, and I refuse to settle for a cheaper product. Our clients deserve the best at an affordable price.” He pinched his nose and gave a hard shake of his head. “Do you have any idea how many deaths and accidents could be prevented? Not to mention giving people a better quality of life.”
He looked past her shoulder, his eyes troubled, and that’s when it occurred to her this was personal for him.