Tough Love

by Lori Foster

Making a small sound of wonder, she let her head fall back against him. God, that felt good. So good.

  When he reached around her and settled his hands on her breasts, she started.

  “Shh.” He caressed her through her dress.

  Vanity looked down at how he held her, how he’d filled his big hands with her. His fingers were long and strong, curved under the weight of her breasts. She swallowed, then went still as he brought his thumbs up to rasp her now swollen nipples.

  “So soft,” he murmured against her skin. “Be still now.” His hands left her, but before she could register disappointment she felt him searching over the back of the dress.

  Despite being a big badass fighter with hands that could knock out an opponent in one solid punch, he had no problem tackling the tiny hidden zipper. Utilizing a painstaking lack of haste, he dragged the zipper down, and seconds later the bodice loosened, then the waist, until he’d opened the dress all the way down past the small of her back.

  Still standing close behind her, he slipped his hands over her hips, pushing the material down—until the dress fell in a colorful heap to her feet.

  There was a moment of stunned silence, then Stack said in a gravelly whisper, “Great fucking dress.”

  Aware of how she looked in nothing more than her sedate jewelry, peach lace panties and thigh-high nylons, Vanity kept her back to him.

  Both of his hands cupped her backside. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on this ass for a very long time.”

  Trying a laugh that sounded a little too high and thin, Vanity turned—and his hot gaze zeroed in on her breasts.

  “Damn.” His attention burned over her.

  Pleased with that reaction, she stepped away from the discarded dress and went to work on the rest of his buttons. “At this rate, we’re never going to make it to the shower.”

  His nose nudged her hair, glided along the side of her throat, breathed deeply near her shoulder. “You smell as good as I imagined.”

  “Like smoke?”

  “Like a major turn-on.” He tipped up her face, let his mouth play over hers before settling in for a deep, hot kiss.

  His hands on her waist were firm, his palms calloused. He coasted up her back, down to her bottom, back up and around to her breasts. The second he made contact, he groaned.

  She did her own touching, trying to get him out of his clothes.

  Without breaking the contact of their mouths, he brushed away her hands and got to work on the buttons himself. He’d removed the tie and cuff links earlier, and now he tossed the shirt aside. Every so often his hands went back to her body, and now, with his chest bare, he pulled her in so that their upper bodies made complete contact.

  Vanity tightened her arms around his neck and moved against him, loving the sensation of his chest hair against her puckered nipples. At her belly, she could feel his knuckles as he opened his pants.

  Wanting to watch, she stepped back. Lacking modesty—and with no reason for it—Stack shoved his pants down and off, removing his socks at the same time. He stood before her in only dark tented boxers.

  “You’re perfect,” she whispered with awe, unable to stop staring.

  “Vanity.” He shifted, his muscles flexing and bunching. “You’ve seen me before,” he reminded her.

  A little dumbfounded, Vanity shook her head. “Not like this.”

  He rolled a shoulder. “Without the boner, yeah. But you always see me in boxing shorts.”

  True. She’d seen him often, and fantasized about him even more.

  Stripped down to nothing more than those low shorts, Stack always stole the show at the rec center where all the fighters worked out. Most days he went at it until sweat left a sheen on his perfectly sculpted body, until his muscles swelled and became more pronounced.

  She’d fallen in love with Stack’s perfect physique, but also his laid-back manner and quick smiles and utter dedication to his friends. Now he was hers—at least for a little while.

  As if drawn to him, her hands lifted and moved over his chest. The light covering of crisp hair fascinated her. Some fighters waxed or shaved their bodies; she was very grateful that Stack wasn’t one of them.

  His body hair, eyebrows and thick lashes were shades darker than the golden brown hair on his head.

  Spreading her fingers wide to cover as much of him as she could, she slowly, oh-so-slowly, drew her hands down his body. Her thumbs touched in that center groove created by his washboard abs.

  She breathed harder.

  His stomach tightened.

  The body hair softened as it swirled around his navel, then arrowed downward to disappear in his boxers.

  “Keep that up,” Stack rasped, “and we won’t make it to the shower. Hell, we might not make it to the bed.”

  Helpless with need, Vanity looked up at him.

  “C’mon, darlin’.” With one finger he touched her bottom lip, then up to her ear where he tucked back her hair. “Shower first, then your arm.”

  “I...I don’t think I can wait.”

  Going all big macho protector, Stack gave an indulgent smile, lightly kissed her lips, and whispered, “I’ll see that you do, and then I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise.”

  Damn it, she didn’t need more incentive.

  She just needed Stack.

  Vanity waited as he retrieved the first-aid kit, then let him take her hand and lead her into the connected bath. She even let him turn on the shower, then stood there and watched while he rummaged around and found two towels.

  “I have a breaking point,” he warned her. “So no touching.”

  She didn’t understand—until he stripped off his boxers.

  Her heart tried to punch its way out of her chest.

  She stared at his throbbing erection surrounded by that soft dark hair. His testicles were tight, and even as she watched, a bead of glistening fluid showed on the head of his penis. The sight of him like this, so turned on, for her, stole her breath.

  She reached for him, but he caught her hands, put them on his shoulders, and went to one knee before her.

  Holy smokes. “Stack...”

  Briefly he nuzzled her belly. “God, your skin is soft and smells so sweet. I want to breathe you in all over.” As he said that, he palmed her backside...and pressed his mouth against her sex.

  The skimpy panties did nothing to blunt the impact of such an intimate kiss. She could feel his breath, the movement of his lips, and it wasn’t until he had her nylons off that she realized he was rolling them down.

  “You have sexy legs,” he said as he helped her lift each foot.

  “They’re barely keeping me upright.”

  He smiled. “I won’t let you fall.” Then he stripped away her panties, too.

  He stayed there on his knees in front of her until the anticipation tried to melt her bones. Finally, using the back of one finger, he gently brushed over her pubic hair. The touch felt so electric she gasped.

  And Stack, the tease, stood again.

  “In you go.” He held the curtain back with one hand.

  It took extreme concentration, but Vanity got it together. “One sec.” She grabbed up her big alligator clip by the sink, flipped her hair forward, twisted it, then slipped in the clip. She made a point of facing Stack as she did it.

  No reason to give him a peek show, especially not while he resisted her.

  As if he’d read her mind, he grinned, then stepped into the shower behind her and again kissed her neck. Near her ear he whispered, “Five minutes. I promise that’s all.”

  At the moment, that sounded like a lifetime. “Are you back to being the minuteman?”

  His teeth on her shoulder made her yelp.

  He kissed the spot from the bite, which had felt more sensual than painful, and started lathering the soap in his hands. “You remember that, huh?”

  Turning to face him, she recounted the conversation from weeks ago. “You told me your usual route at weddings was a fast hookup in bathrooms
and closets. Quick sex. Seriously, Stack, do you think I’m ever likely to forget that?”

  “I was trying to dissuade you from asking me to be your date to the wedding.”

  “So it wasn’t true?” He’d claimed he went to weddings solo, so if he got lucky, nothing would hinder him. When she’d pressed him for details, he’d claimed even the bathroom could offer enough privacy.

  And instead of being dissuaded, she’d been...intrigued. Still was. Risqué sexual situations were not her forte. But with Stack, she wouldn’t mind taking a few chances.

  Grinning like a sinner, he shrugged. “True enough.” Pulling her in close, he worked those soapy hands down her back, down, down, down... “I also told you that when the woman is hot for it, a few minutes is all it takes me to make her happy.”

  She gasped at the feel of his hands on the backs of her thighs. “Braggart.”

  “What about you, Vanity?” His slick fingers trailed higher. “You hot enough, darlin’?”

  “Yes!” She pushed him back, snatched up her face wash, and quickly removed her ruined makeup.

  As he soaped up his perfect body, Stack watched her. “Switch places.”

  “Okay.” Taking the scented, moisture-rich soap from him, she moved out of the shower’s spray and let him rinse. It fascinated her, seeing the soap suds trickle down the deep groove of his back, over his muscular behind and those long, strong thighs. When he finished, he turned to her again and ran both hands through his wet hair to push it back.

  Blindly, refusing to take her gaze off him, Vanity did her own quick cleanup. It wasn’t until she sent the lather over the burn on her arm that she remembered it and winced.

  “Easy.” Taking over, Stack gently slid soapy fingertips over the mark and, blocking the shower spray with his broad back, cupped his hand and poured water over her small injury. As he examined it, he asked, “Does it hurt?”

  “Not really.” Their heads almost touched as they both looked at the burn. “I don’t even know how I did it.”

  He lifted her wrist to his mouth and kissed it, around the burn, up to her elbow.

  How could the inside of a freaking elbow be so sensitive?

  Taking her by surprise, he turned his head and brushed his jaw over her breast. “Do I need to shave?”

  Shaking her head, Vanity tunneled her fingers into his wet hair and kept him close. “No.”

  His warm breath moved over her wet nipple. “You sure?”

  “Yes...ahhh.” The word turned into a moan as he drew her in, sucking gently.

  Carefully backing her up until she bumped into the wall, he caged her in. Steam rose around them. He left one nipple to lick his way over to the other.

  “Stack...” She was right back to having shaky knees. “Please.”

  He braced one hand on the wall beside her head, and cupped the other between her legs, his fingers lightly exploring, parting her...two fingers sinking in.

  She stiffened with acute sensation.

  “Yeah,” he murmured, all cocky and confident. “You’re hot enough.” He took her mouth again, kissing her deeply while his fingers slowly worked her.

  When she moaned, he eased up to say, “You’re wet.”

  “We’re in a shower.”

  He nipped her bottom lip for deliberately misunderstanding. “You’re hot, too. And swollen.”

  Just as softly, she said, “I know.”

  Amazingly, tension began to build, and she wanted it so badly, she tried to hold him closer.

  He stared into her eyes, searched her face, and kissed her again. “You’re close already, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

  Why that embarrassed her, she wasn’t sure. “I...you...” She inhaled sharply. “Stack, please.”

  “We’re good together.”

  Her legs stiffened. “Yes.”

  “So come for me, Vanity. Right here, right now.”

  And damned if she didn’t.

  She clutched at his shoulders, awestruck by the powerful climax stealing through her, twisting tighter and tighter until she couldn’t contain it, until she cried out roughly.

  “There you go,” Stack murmured. “Damn.”

  Head back, legs locked, Vanity gave herself over to the intense pleasure. Stack stayed with her, kissing her throat and her jaw while his fingers maintained that perfect rhythm until she thought she couldn’t take it anymore.

  Somehow knowing the right moment to ease up, he withdrew, but cupped his hand over her.

  The pleasure faded, leaving behind a warm throbbing contained by the pressure of his palm.

  “Damn,” he whispered again. “I almost came with you.”

  Lethargic, awestruck, Vanity nonetheless reached for his erection—only to have him draw her up short. “C’mon. Let’s get dried off.”

  Her protesting groan made him smile, but he wasted no time shutting off the water and snagging a towel. When he started to dry her, she resisted. A deep breath, then another, helped her recover. Leveling a look on him, she said, “Let’s speed up the process, shall we?” She stepped out of the tub on trembling limbs and hurriedly whisked the towel over her body.

  Stack halfheartedly dried himself, then wrapped the towel around his waist.

  “Modest?”

  “Prudent.” He opened the first-aid kit. “Let me see your arm.”

  “It’s fine.” She didn’t want to take time messing with it.

  “Sure it is. It also needs to be wrapped.”

  Deciding it wasn’t worth a debate, Vanity obediently rested her arm on the sink counter. “Here you go, doc.”

  “So now we’re playing doctor?” He cupped her breast, moved his thumb over her nipple. “I could get into that.”

  Still supersensitive, she gasped and stepped out of reach. “No, I meant...” She saw his knowing smile and frowned. “Never mind. Just do what you need to do.”

  “Yes, darlin’.” With exaggerated focus, he liberally dabbed ointment on the burn before wrapping it in gauze.

  As he worked, Vanity watched him. “I’m not modest.”

  He glanced at her naked body. “Noticed that.”

  The damp towel did little to conceal his erection, so, yes, she’d noticed him noticing. “I’m not all that prudent either.”

  “You go after what you want.” He was careful not to get the gauze too tight. “I like that.”

  She laughed. “You like it because it’s you I want.”

  “There is that.” He finished and closed the first-aid kit. Taking her chin, he tipped her face this way and that while examining her hair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Your hair has factored into some hot fantasies. I want it loose.” Frowning in concentration, he figured out how to open the big clip, and her hair fell free. He worked his fingers through it a few times. “Better.”

  Without another word he removed his towel, picked her up in his arms, and headed for the bed.

  “We’re finally doing this?”

  “A minute more and I’d have been a goner.”

  “Funny.” She leaned in to kiss his chin. “I did try to offer in the shower.”

  “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you squeezing me when you come again.”

  Wow, he made her blood burn. “Again, huh?”

  “Definitely.” He lowered her to the bed and straightened to stand over her. After studying every inch of her, he went for his pants.

  Vanity watched until he pulled several silver packets from his pocket. “You have condoms in your tux pants?”

  “Wanted to make sure I was prepared when you decided you were ready.” He set them on the nightstand with two cell phones and his wallet, traveled his gaze over the length of her body, and slowly lowered himself down beside her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE WAY VANITY looked at him, with those big blue eyes all dark and consuming, it was a wonder he could think long enough to grab the condoms.

  Soon as he settled on the bed, she reached for him. She did th
at a lot, and damn, but he loved it. There was something about the way she continually wanted him against her, as if her pleasure depended on it. She didn’t just want the fast convenient fuck she’d first hinted at back when they’d started this little game of cat and mouse.

  She went out of her way to play it off, to deny it by her attitude and actions, but she wanted him. Him, specifically.

  What a turn-on.

  Women had chased him before, women who were also hot—built, pretty, brazen.

  Vanity was different in a dozen ways. He wasn’t sure of the differences, just that they affected him a lot.

  “What is it about you?” he asked her while again holding her back.

  Her shoulders relaxed in his hands as she sank into the plush comforter on her bed, her gorgeous blond hair everywhere. She shook her head, and in a voice as sultry as her eyes, she whispered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  No artifice. The lady had to know of her own killer good looks, but she didn’t show it, didn’t expect men to fawn over her. Overall, she seemed to think it didn’t matter.

  And maybe that was part of it. She was somehow more real than other beautiful women.

  “I can’t put my finger on it yet.” Stack’s attention went back to her body stretched out beside his. “But there are other, better places for my fingers right now anyway.”

  “Stack,” she complained on a groan. “No more teasing, okay?”

  “I’m dead serious, believe me.” Opening his hand over her lush breast, he cuddled her. Overall she had a light tan. But not here, not on her breasts. The contrast of her pale, velvet skin under his darker, rougher hand ramped up the fever.

  He had large fists, his knuckles burly from punching the speed bag, the heavy bag—and the bodies of opponents. But everything on Vanity was smooth and sleek and sexy beyond all fantasy.

  While he played with her, her breath caught in that same way it had in the shower moments before she began tightening with a climax. Hearing those sexy sounds now triggered something in him; impatience faded under red-hot determination.

  “Even without makeup, you are so fucking gorgeous.” He lightly trapped her swollen pink nipple between his finger and thumb, tugging gently, rolling enough to get her squirming again.