She would ask for the tour. Later. For now, there was only one sight she wanted to see, and she didn't much care which room she saw it in. Although Jake might be more comfortable in the bedroom, she mused devilishly.
"What are you thinking?" Jake's voice was low and fascinated. He'd turned the engine off and stared at her, his lips curved upward in a bemused smile. She looked at his mouth, lust jolting through her. She looked at the shape it made as he spoke. "You don't have to do this, you know," he told her gently. The intensity of his eyes wasn't gentle. She couldn’t choose which she liked more -- the rough desire in his eyes or the sweet tone of his voice.
It was a package deal, she decided. Something about him worked just right for her.
"I'm kind of amazed, myself," she murmured, more to herself. "I want to. I really want to. You don't know what you do to me, big guy," she mock-growled, turning the full power of her gray eyes on him. "But you will. Now," she commanded, flirting shamelessly, "Do I have to beg you to come inside, or will you make this easy on me?"
His answering animal smile thrilled her as much as his teasing words. "I wouldn't dream of making it easy on you, little girl." He pinioned her wrists, dragged her to him gently and proceeded to tease her mercilessly with his skillful lips. Just long enough to get her breathing even harder.
Then with a precise controlled movement he released her and stepped out of the Jeep. Gallantly rounding the back of the vehicle, he opened her door, bowed slightly and offered his hand to Stanna for her to alight.
Stanna's lips still tingled from his kisses, and her smile felt as if it would never go away. First he was hauling her against him like some kind of rough caveman, and now his broad shoulders were bent to her service.
She could get used to this.
In fact, she was on the verge of asking him to carry her over the threshold when she realized the connotation that held: marriage. The traditional male lust-spoiler.
She felt a strange pang of sadness. She wanted this man, yes. But on a sharp intake of breath, she realized she was falling ever more deeply in love with him.
His soft hair gleamed reddish-gold in the afternoon's hazy sunlight. His outstretched hand was steady and still. Time seemed to slow for an endless moment. She felt the gentle breeze caressing her with the scent of the Pacific. Her heart warmed with something much stronger than affection; her awareness of the man before her included all she knew of him. The visual beauty of him as well as his fierce integrity, cutting wit, and disarming gentleness.
Immediately she resolved to accomplish more than just seducing the man.
She would – somehow – get him to fall in love with her.
He looked up and their eyes met. She knew she offered up all the emotion she was feeling in her gaze, and felt a jolt of connection when he blinked, his reaction re-drawing his face into more serious lines. His hand lowered to her thigh. She lifted her own hand and gently, delicately touched his hair. Stroked. All the while telling him with her eyes what she felt.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, she saw a level of intensity reflected in their aqua depths that impacted like a hammer blow to her heart. So the man had strong feelings of his own. Now all she had to do was bring them out. All the way out.
She smiled, and his eyes kindled with an immediate response.
Oh man, she thought, feeling weak. We're so compatible, so in synch that we practically read each other's minds. Which thought, of course, reminded her of the last time they communicated non-verbally. That rainy mountain evening of fire and body language. Her smile widened.
This time he didn't ask her what she was thinking. He knew.
He reached in and scooped her out, setting her lightly on her feet. One strong arm stayed around her as he shut the Jeep's door. His radiating body heat and heady masculine scent made her narrow her eyes in pleasure. It felt so good, so absolutely right to be within his encompassing arms. He seemed to be having a hard time stepping away from her as well.
She took a deep breath. Okay, she coached herself. Time to get seducing.
She pulled away from him slightly, stroking his forearm and hand as she turned a full-wattage "I'm hungry for you" smile on him. It wasn't an act. Her level, intense gaze didn't have to be faked. She felt the heat rising in her just looking at him, and she squeezed his hand, gently leading him to the door of his home.
He followed closely, caressing her back with strong fingers then squeezing her hand in response. He felt awkward in the role of follower, but nonetheless allowed her to tug him along the step-stone walkway bordered by bushy bright flowers that always overgrew and brushed against him. They smelled nice, especially with the crisp ocean breeze, and he didn't mind their untamed overgrowth. At the moment all was just about perfect with the world.
He couldn't believe his amazing fortune. This, right here, was every guy's dream come true: a sexy woman taking the lead of getting him into bed. And not just any woman. Stanna. Amazing. For all of his experience -- and he'd had a lot, if he did say so himself -- he'd never felt quite so exhilarated and happy.
She turned, closing the distance to him. She was tickling him. She was diving into his pants pockets! He squirmed, not able to help his shocked whoosh of breath. But he recovered quickly when she merely fished out his keys. Was she laughing? He couldn't tell, she'd already turned to the door and began to insert a key. Slowly. He could see her manicured nails, not long but painted pink, on her slender fingers grasping the key. The fingers held it delicately, rubbing it slightly. She pulled it back out, holding it up in the light. Her small pink tongue extended, touched the exact middle of her upper lip thoughtfully. She selected a different key. When she turned, her bottom brushed against his leg lightly.
Enough. He grabbed the keys. He jammed in the correct one so quickly that it missed the keyhole and scored the shiny brass plate.
"Uh-uh-uh," she reprimanded, taking back the keys. She placed one palm against his chest and pushed him away. With the other hand she deftly took back the keys, turning so she brushed against him again. But this time she inserted the correct key – albeit much too slowly, Jake thought, nearly growling with impatience – and they were in. About time.
He was almost too overwhelmed by his good luck and mounting frustration to notice much more than Stanna's very enticing body. But the thought of that little moment by the Jeep grew in his head. The way she'd stared into his eyes… that was something else. He'd connected with her, beyond the physical level. He could tell she’d felt it too. Those eyes of hers! Her gorgeous gray, expressive eyes had told him she wanted him, yes. But they'd revealed more than that.
She was falling in love with him.
Maybe. Maybe not.
He allowed her to steer him around, searching as she was for his bedroom.
He was uneasy, despite his raging lust. That apprehensive, short-of-breath feeling he'd experienced only once before in his life now had him in its grip once again.
It scared the hell out of him.
He wouldn't be made a fool again. He'd learned his lesson, thank you very much. Even if he hadn't, Stanna Seductress tugging him toward the bedroom was a living embodiment of women manipulators. She'd lied not too long ago in the parking garage. Supposedly it was to get him in the sack. For crying out loud, was he that easy? That dumb?
She was a control freak, and no doubt of it. He couldn't let her soft looks and softer touch blind him. He knew what happened to men who trusted too much.
He hardened his damaged heart. He would use her the way she said she needed him to, and she would love every minute.
What if she really did love him?
He squelched the thought. He would pleasure her senseless. He'd make her cry out again and again. And he'd get a nice piece of ass. That's all he wanted.
That settled, he was still surprised and touched when she turned and told him, "Thank you for being such a good sport. You have no idea how much this means to me." And she kissed him, her soft lips touching his warmly, gen
tly.
Groaning, he responded. Damn, but she tasted sweet. The kiss deepened languorously, and the glow of desire he'd felt since he saw her in that short skirt and silky blouse began to grow, as slowly and lazily as the sweet kiss. He wanted it to last. He wanted all of it to last. It was a rare treat, being with her this way, and he'd savor it while he had it – he didn't want to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow was reality. Stanna's kiss today made him hope reality would stay away for a while. He liked the fantasy a whole lot better.
He willed all his doubts away, the better to feel her completely. He liked the silky feel of her blond hair in his hands. He liked her intoxicating smell, of earth and flowers and woman scent – an elusive fragrance that made him want to search every square inch of her skin until he found the source of it. He even liked her fiery temper, right now anyway, because the thought of all her passion re-channeled into lovemaking thrilled him in a way that made him think momentarily of souped-up classic cars, high-maintenance beauties that paid it back in a single powerful cruise up Pacific Coast Highway.
And, damn it, there was something more. There was a new sensation in his heart, a longing made of pain mixed with unbearable sweetness. It hadn’t been there before Stanna. He didn't know where it came from, but he knew what it was.
He crushed her body against him, trying to drown the unwelcome emotion with the physical intoxication of her tempting body. As a distraction, Stanna's female curves did the trick. An annoying urge to just hold her that way, reverently, despite the wave of pure lust that rolled over him as her breasts pressed against his chest, made him curse softly.
But his desire tipped the scales. He silenced the turmoil in his mind by tilting her head up to his. He brushed his lips against hers, the point of contact igniting small blazes all over his body. Her soft warm breath acted like a caress on the skin of his face. Tremblingly, her bent arms encircling his waist moved against his sides as her hands stroked his back. He could feel her desire for him, as if they were both plugged into the same primal fount, drawing the intoxicating energy from it into their bodies and giving it back to each other.
She pulled back from him, tilted her head up. The feel of her arms snaking their retreat until her warm hands gently grasped his sides sent shivers up and down the length of his body, and he spared a thankful thought for all the sit-ups he'd performed that allowed her to touch firm muscle. The wicked smile that curved her lips accelerated the blood in his veins. Her hands wandered over his sides, his stomach, his chest with wanton avarice. To see her pleasure did more for him than all her electric touches combined. Touching him was visibly getting her off. He forced himself to inhale slowly and methodically to avoid yanking up that short skirt and ending it all too quickly.
The woman was torturing him.
The glint in her eyes was all the warning he got. She reached up to caress his chest one more time, then transferred her slender fingers to her own chest to begin unbuttoning her silk blouse. As more and more of her creamy white skin lay revealed, she also began to back up slowly, fetching up against the bed. He watched, half-stunned but appreciative, as she skillfully unzipped and stepped out of her skirt… still wearing her high heels.
Jake found himself leaning against the doorframe.
Her lips curved in a knowing smile.
Her superb nude figure stood in front of his bed, posed as provocatively as any model in a magazine layout. In heels. Who would’ve thought she owned heels?
His woman was waiting for him.
He stalked her. With slow, appraising glances at what she'd revealed, he approached. She arrogantly shook her silky mane back out of her face, sticking her chin in the air, as imperious and defiant as a warrior princess and as sultry as a succubus. Her smoldering gray eyes mirrored his desire. Suddenly, she began stalking him.
As she circled, her heels put a cruelly effective sway into her hips. "Jake, honey," she said lazily, "why don't you take those clothes off?" She allowed one fingernail to trail down his forearm as she brushed against him, deliberately teasing.
"Why don't you take them off for me," he said, surprised at the husky demand of his voice. But when he saw her face flush slightly, her moist lips parting to facilitate her own breathing, he smiled a little arrogantly himself.
Until her nude body stepped against his still-clothed one in a brief, glorious moment of full contact. That got rid of his smile, and every other thought in his head. His cotton slacks and shirt were no barrier to feeling her warm curves. He could feel her erect nipples with piercing clarity, and he knew she felt him too when she quietly groaned and backed away.
"That hurt me more than it did you," she said with a rueful smile.
"Then you shouldn't punish me with your body," he said chidingly. “Reward me instead.” He was going to punish hers with his instead, he decided. But before his hands made it up to his shirt buttons, hers were there. The soft hypnotic brush of her fingers kept his blood uncomfortably warm with their delicate manipulation.
He gave himself up to the luxury of it. In heels, she was only a few inches shorter than him. She easily peeled his shirt over his shoulders and down, walking around him and raking her fingernails over his back.
"Mmmm, what nice muscles you have," she said in a low purr. He couldn't help the tremor vibrating through his flesh in response to her voice and her light caress. He closed his eyes to savor the sensation. But when her hands reached for his slacks, tugging at the front, his eyes popped open again. Was she…? Yes, there was a new breeze against his exposed lower abdomen, and lower still…
His manhood bulged, giving his white briefs stretch marks. He wondered if she enjoyed the sight of his body being revealed as much as he’d enjoyed hers. His appreciation was evident as she lowered his pants. Kneeling before him, she locked her eyes on his as she peeled his briefs down to join his pants. Her gaze dropped. She blinked slowly. "Oh, my," she said.
He swelled to an even greater size and felt a very masculine pride. He knew he was well endowed, but knowing wasn't the same as seeing the awe on Stanna's face.
"Nothing you haven't seen before, darlin'." He drawled out the endearment slowly, watching her face with pleasure.
"That was different. It was darker in the cabin. And we were more…" She smiled, from her expression obviously savoring the memory. “Busy.” This soft, sensual woman bore little resemblance to the office-Stanna. She shook her head, searching for better words. "We were mindless. At least, I was. Plus I've never had quite this kind of view before."
Before with him, or before ever? he wondered. But her kneeling proximity to him suddenly struck him as intensely erotic. He throbbed with impatience, but didn’t dare move otherwise. He didn't care who she'd been with, she was his now, only his. The possessive feeling he had added to the eroticism.
He breathed deeply, imposing an inhuman patience on himself. Something about the combination of lust and this new feeling of… liking, he'll call it… for Stanna did strange things to his mind. One moment his dirty mind conjured up images of using her hard, pushing past her lips into her warm mouth. The next moment, guilt plagued him, as if the action somehow degraded her. Degraded! What the hell put that thought in his head? She was voluntarily on her knees, wasn't she?
He wouldn’t move. Couldn’t if he wanted to.
With her contradictory ways, her spirit and sensuality, she inspired him to stillness. Happy, expectant, and having a hard time holding himself still, he waited in confused anticipation of whatever Stanna chose to do next. After all, it was her game.
He kept his face impassive as he looked down at her. He gave her a kind smile, just a little superior, just a little daring… if he read her correctly, Stanna wouldn't be able to resist a dare…
Then, to punctuate, he raised a supercilious eyebrow in question.
Again, she managed to shock him: With a grin, she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she leaned forward until he felt her breath against him. Her warm hands lifted to cup where he was soft. Her tongue
ran the length of his hardness, and his knees nearly buckled.
"Stanna," he gasped.
She paused. "Yes?" her innocent voice replied.
"You are wicked."
"Mmmmm," she said.
It was intolerable. It was wonderful. Jake trembled, stilled, and trembled again, straining to keep his senses from feeling too much. An impossible task.
Suddenly, he felt cool air where it was so warm and moist. Her hand grasped him, tugged gently, making him see fireworks of light from sensation. She stood, her smooth round rear presenting an irresistible picture as she led him to the bed. He was more than willing to be led.
The fading afternoon light was giving way to the streetlamps outside, and the faint glow from the closed blinds gave just enough illumination to his bedroom. She let go of him to crawl onto his bed.
Her heels still on. The contradiction of her feminine and tomboy side and this… this vixen! It hit just the right combination with him. There must be something to the old cliché, the one about men wanting the virgin and whore in one, he thought. No, that wasn't quite it in this case. And not that anyone could consider Stanna a whore or dare call her one… but the innocent/seductress image was there, and potent. He felt desire bordering on pain.
"Jake," she sing-songed as she turned over to lie on her side on the bed, a provocative position. The mischievous glint in her gray eyes showed him she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
He had to touch her.
The next moment he lay atop her, devouring her mouth and allowing his hands to finally roam over her body. Mine, he thought with ferocity completely at odds with the tight rein he held on himself. He would pleasure this woman like she'd never been pleasured before.
With an artist's touch, he nibbled on her ears while simultaneously caressing her nipples with skillful thumbs. Listening to her soft moans and sighs, he found her erogenous spots one by one and exploited them in a knowledgeable and merciless attack. She writhed beneath him, trying to position herself for relief, but he wanted to inflame her to the same state he was in, and that was nothing short of desperate. He bit gently at the small of her back. He raked his teeth over her nipples. He breathed on her inner thighs and licked upwards. Her plump little mound delighted him because of the soft gasps and pleadings he could wring from her.
L.A. Caveman Page 14