With a pang of irritation, Althea watched as the sexy stranger whispered something into the waitress’s ear that made her throw back her head and laugh with genuine pleasure. She gave him a sultry smile and a wink before leaving the table, the seductive sway of her hips drawing the lustful eye of every male within a hundred feet.
“Men,” Keren pronounced in disgust, shaking her head. She glared after the departing waitress. “I bet those aren’t even real!”
Kimberly laughed. “Now, now. Don’t be jealous,” she teased, gently patting her friend’s hand. “You’re a successful CPA. I’m sure you can afford your own breast implants. Hell, it might even help you get that promotion you’ve been slaving for.”
Keren scowled at her. “Kiss my ass.”
This time both Althea and Kimberly laughed.
The three women lapsed into companionable silence for a few minutes, content to nurse their margaritas and people-watch before venturing onto the dance floor.
They had been friends ever since their days at Elizabeth Seton, an all-girl Catholic high school near their hometown of Upper Marlboro. Whether outsmarting their irascible headmistress or supporting one another in student-council election campaigns, they had always been inseparable. Over the years they’d kept in touch, even when Althea broke with Seton tradition and decided to attend a coed university instead of joining her two friends at Spelman. After years of attending all-girl schools, she’d been ready for a change, welcoming the opportunity to match wits with her male counterparts in the world of academia. As a premed major at the University of Maryland, Althea had spent countless hours studying and memorizing the unabridged version of Gray’s Anatomy and had endured the rigors of biology and organic chemistry courses alongside egomaniacs who believed that women had no place in college, let alone medical school. She’d had to work twice as hard as her male peers to prove herself, never imagining that these early experiences would prepare her to someday compete—and survive—in the testosterone-dominated FBI.
When Althea learned two months ago that she’d been transferred to the Baltimore field office, Keren and Kimberly were among the first few people she’d called. It was Keren who’d suggested that they celebrate her return home by having dinner at their favorite restaurant at the Inner Harbor, followed by a night of dancing at one of the most popular nightclubs downtown.
As Althea reached for her margarita, she felt a light, prickling awareness ripple across the surface of her skin. As if guided by an invisible force, she turned her head and homed in on the sexy stranger she and her friends had been ogling earlier.
He was already watching Althea, a silent, focused observation that made her pulse go haywire. He seemed oblivious to the rowdy antics of his friends and the addition of three scantily-clad women to their party, one of whom was openly vying for his attention. He was interested only in Althea, gazing at her as if he could see through the stretchy fabric of her form-fitting dress, through her silk thigh-high stockings and lace underwear, right down to the shivering flesh beneath.
As Althea returned his hot, bold gaze, she, too, lost track of her surroundings—the loud music, the flashing strobe lights, the sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor, the buzz of laughter and conversation. Everything faded into a distant blur as her world narrowed to focus solely on him.
Dark, handsome, virile. Utterly mesmerizing . . .
At that moment he glanced away, bending his head toward the beautiful woman at his side as she murmured something in his ear. He listened briefly, then nodded. With a smile full of seductive promise, the woman rose from the table and sashayed toward the restrooms near the back of the club.
Without a second thought Althea downed the rest of her margarita and stood, drawing curious looks from her friends.
“Where are you going?” they asked in unison.
Althea smoothed her silver jersey dress over her thighs. “To dance with the birthday boy.”
She moved swiftly and purposefully through the crowd, like a woman on a mission. Which she was. She’d seen something she wanted, and now she was going after it.
You only live once.
When Althea reached the noisy table across the room, several pairs of eyes swung in her direction. But she only had eyes for the birthday boy, who stared at her with an expression of surprise mingled with unmistakable pleasure.
Althea gave him her most beguiling smile. “Would you like to dance?”
“Absolutely,” he said, his voice a deep, husky growl that made her belly quiver. He unfolded his lean body from the chair and stood with a fluid grace that reminded Althea of the leashed power of a panther prowling through the jungle.
Just as she’d suspected, he towered over her five feet six inches. She’d thought he was good-looking the moment she laid eyes on him, but seeing him from across the crowded room was nothing compared to the up close and personal view. But even as gorgeous as he was, it was his eyes that ensnared Althea. They were black as midnight, heavy lidded and penetrating. They stared down at her with a searing intensity that scorched her nerve endings and left her feeling a little weak.
Swallowing hard, Althea slipped her palm into the warmth of his big hand and steered him away from the table, not missing the knowing looks and grins his friends gave him. Normally she would mind the lewd innuendo reflected in their gazes, but tonight was different. Tonight she didn’t care about anything but having a good time, and she’d found just the right man to help her achieve that all-important goal.
The dance floor was packed with couples swaying to a slow, sensual number beneath a mirrored disco ball. Althea led her partner through the crowd, finding an available spot somewhere in the middle.
As he drew her into his arms, she slid her hands up the hard, muscled wall of his chest and curved them around his neck. The moment their bodies came together, heat sizzled through her veins, igniting her blood. He stared down at her, their faces a scant few inches away. Her heart thundered. The look in his eyes pulled at something deep within her, something that made her ache with an indescribable longing.
She managed a soft, demure smile and lowered her head to his shoulder as they began swaying to the music. He smelled incredible. Like soap mingled with just a hint of an expensive, woodsy fragrance. Probably Armani.
“What’s your name?” he asked. His voice was an intoxicating baritone—deep, potent, and incredibly sexy. It made the back of her neck tingle, as if he were caressing it with his hands, his lips, his warm breath.
She almost forgot he’d asked her a question until he chuckled softly. “Ah, a woman of mystery.”
Althea lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled into his dark eyes. “Althea.”
He nodded, his mouth curving in a smile that revealed strong white teeth. “Damien.”
So that was his name. Damien. A strong, masculine name. It definitely suited him, Althea decided.
“Happy birthday, Damien. Hope it’s been a good one.”
“It is now,” he said huskily.
She felt a thrill of pleasure at his words. Don’t get carried away, an inner voice warned. After tonight you’ll never see this man again. Remember that.
“How many years?” she asked.
“Thirty-four.”
Althea nodded, mentally processing the fact that he was eight years older than her.
Glancing over his shoulder, she spied the beautiful woman who’d been seated at his table earlier, vying for his attention. She stood just beyond the edge of the dance floor, nursing a drink and openly glowering at them.
Althea felt only the slightest twinge of guilt. After all, it wasn’t her fault that the other woman had left Damien unattended long enough for Althea to make her move. And if it hadn’t been Althea, it would have been someone else. God knows there had been no shortage of women ogling him that evening.
“I know this might sound like a bad pickup line,” Damien said, gazing at her, “but you look familiar to me.”
Althea gave him a wry look. “Y
ou’re not going to tell me that I look like Kerry Washington, are you?”
He chuckled. “No, I wasn’t. But now that you mention it, you do bear a striking resemblance to her. Why? Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. I think she’s gorgeous, and I love her movies. But if I had a dime for every time someone told me I look like her . . . Well, you get the point. Anyway, I was thinking the same thing about you. You look familiar to me, but I know we’ve never met before.”
Damien shook his head. “There’s no way I would have forgotten meeting you,” he said huskily.
Althea’s insides melted. She gave him a sultry smile. “I thought the same thing.”
He smiled, soft and intimate, and pulled her closer.
As the slow, seductive ballad segued into another, she resettled her head upon his shoulder and closed her eyes, emptying her mind of everything but this moment. She reveled in the strength of his arms around her. The hardness of his chest and abdomen rubbed against her breasts, the friction enough to make her nipples pucker against her lace bra. His firm, muscled thighs slid along hers as he turned her slowly in a circle, one hand at the small of her back, the other at her waist. The heat of his touch seared her, penetrating the soft fabric of her dress. When his hip brushed against hers, she felt the thick, rigid length of his erection. A soft gasp escaped her throat. Desire pooled between her legs, dampening the crotch of her panties.
She fought to control her ragged breathing as his arms tightened around her, holding her closer. As they danced in slow circles, their bodies moving as one, it was as if nothing and no one else existed outside their embrace. The heat emanating from every point of contact seemed to forge them together.
With her head resting on his shoulder, Althea’s gaze riveted on the full, sensuous curve of his bottom lip. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to feel those soft, sexy lips gliding against hers before they trailed lower, to the aching swell of her breasts, and lower still, to the hot, pulsing flesh between her legs.
When she lifted her eyes to his, she found his dark, smoldering gaze already fixed on her face, as if he’d intercepted her thoughts.
Her lips parted, but before she could draw her next breath, Damien slanted his head over hers and seized her mouth with such searing possession she felt as if she might drown. She arched into him, moving higher in his arms to match herself more equally to his height. It didn’t matter that they were in public or that he was a complete stranger to her. All that mattered were the explosive sensations he aroused in her, almost terrifying in their intensity.
She pressed her aching breasts to his chest and felt the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through her body when he groaned. Her hips ground mindlessly against his, seeking the enticing bulge she’d encountered just minutes before.
With another husky groan, Damien deepened the kiss, sliding his silky tongue past her lips and devouring her mouth until she was breathless and clinging to him. Soon they were both panting hard.
Althea pulled back and stared up at him. Her face was hot, her lips parted and swollen as her breath sawed in and out of her lungs.
Flashing strobe lights revealed the raw hunger in Damien’s dark, glittering eyes as he gazed back at her. “Althea—”
She pressed a finger against the seam of his warm, soft lips. “Shhh.” Reaching on tiptoe, she drew his head down to hers, leaned close, and let her lips brush his earlobe, making him shiver in response.
“Take me home,” she whispered in his ear.
He lifted his head and stared down at her, searching her face as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard.
Althea cupped his face in her hands and kissed him so boldly and provocatively there could be no doubt in his mind what she wanted.
When she drew away, Damien grabbed her hand and started purposefully from the dance floor, plowing through the crowd as effortlessly as Moses parted the Red Sea.
Althea gave a breathless little laugh as he tugged her along. “Where should we—”
“Whoever lives closest,” he growled over his shoulder. “I’ll drive.”
Chapter 3
It was the most impulsive thing Althea had ever done in her life.
And that was saying a lot, considering her track record.
Three years ago, she’d unexpectedly dropped out of medical school and joined the FBI, shocking her family, friends, and everyone else who knew her.
Now, as she left the nightclub with a perfect stranger, her life-altering decision not to practice medicine suddenly seemed like child’s play in comparison.
During the short drive from the club to the downtown apartment building Althea had recently moved into, she and Damien let their fingers twine sensually and shared heated looks in the shadowy interior of his Tahoe. By the time he parked in front of her building, Althea was so aroused, so impatient to be with him, that she had to force herself to sit still and wait for him to open the passenger door for her.
As she fumbled to unlock the door to her sixth-floor unit, she could feel the heat radiating from his body as he stood close behind her, his warm breath caressing the nape of her neck. She crossed the threshold of her apartment, flipped a light switch, then stepped aside to let him enter.
She dropped her purse and keys on the cherry sideboard in the foyer. Trying to be a good hostess, she asked, “Would you like something to drink? I have—”
Strong arms grabbed her and turned her around. Althea had only a fleeting glimpse of Damien’s expression—his heavy-lidded eyes blazing with fierce arousal, his nostrils slightly flared—before his dark head slanted over hers.
The moment their mouths locked, Althea had no more coherent thoughts.
Damien’s hands held her head as he ravaged her lips. His need was unmistakable, intense. Althea found herself crushed against his hard chest, enfolded in his body. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, sensual and demanding. Her tight, achy nipples knotted against his blazer, and she clung to him, desperate for more. Their teeth scraped. Althea thought she tasted blood, but she was beyond the point of caring.
One of his impossibly hard thighs slid between hers, hiking up the hem of her dress. Friction swelled her clitoris. Desire, the kind she had never before experienced, the kind she had believed existed only in erotic fiction and in her secret fantasies, overwhelmed her. She rode Damien’s thigh. Hard.
He uttered something unintelligible, his voice low and guttural. He lifted her easily in his arms, walked a few steps, and deposited her on a hard surface. It took Althea a dazed moment to realize it was the antique sofa table in the living room.
He moved between her legs, kissing her savagely as he shoved up her dress and palmed her wet, throbbing sex through her lace panties. Althea moaned, her hips arching off the table to press against his big hand. His long, skilled fingers teased and stroked her labia until a shaking moan rose in her throat. When he slipped one finger inside her, Althea felt the first tiny explosion, a preview of what was to come, and she cried out.
Damien grasped her buttocks and held her tightly against his thick erection, which promised unparalleled heights of ecstasy. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her breathing rapid and shallow. He crushed his mouth to hers, and their tongues mated frantically while their bodies surged against each other.
Althea reached for and unzipped his trousers, gasping when he sprang hot, thick, and long into her hands. Her mouth watered. Greed filled her. A greed that was pure, raw hunger.
Their gazes locked as she slid off the table and knelt before him. She wrapped her lips around his engorged shaft and tried to swallow him whole.
Damien let out a harsh groan, a sound of both pleasure and torment. He thrust hard and deep into her mouth, and she laved and sucked him like it was a matter of survival. She held his buttocks as he thrust faster, again and again.
When he swore loudly and bucked against her as he came, she sucked harder, swallowing every last drop he emptied into her.
Afterward he didn�
��t collapse on the floor. Instead he cradled her face between his hands and leaned down to kiss her. Althea kissed him back, still tasting his salty-sweet cum, their mouths soon tearing insatiably at each other.
With a savage oath, he bent and lifted her back onto the table. She raised her hips, and he grasped the waistband of her panties and quickly dragged them down her legs and over her stiletto boots. She quivered with anticipation as he stood there for a prolonged moment, his hungry, possessive gaze devouring the sight of her. She imagined how she must look to him, her thick black hair disheveled, her dress hiked up to her bare waist, her long legs spread open to reveal the slick, glistening folds of her sex.
“Beautiful,” he whispered huskily.
Althea felt a shiver of warmth puddle in her loins. She wanted him inside her, hard and deep.
She almost wept with relief when he retrieved a condom from his pocket and sheathed himself with practiced ease. She reached up and slid his blazer from his broad shoulders, impatiently casting it aside. That was as far as she got before Damien pushed her back onto her elbows and settled between her legs. He nudged her thighs wide and knifed into her, filling her with every swollen, aroused inch of him. She cried out wildly and clutched him, her nails raking down his back, her legs locking around his waist.
As he pounded in and out of her, she shouted hoarsely in pleasure and encouragement. She wanted more, faster, harder, and he was only too willing to oblige her. Soon the entire apartment was filled with the orchestra of their fierce lovemaking, their desperate cries and moans punctuated by the wet suck-and-slap sounds of their bodies.
No One But You Page 2