One-Click Buy: February 2010 Harlequin Blaze

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One-Click Buy: February 2010 Harlequin Blaze Page 40

by Betina Krahn


  He didn’t even glance up, tearing the condom open with his teeth and rolling it onto his cock as he mumbled, “Hmm?”

  “I told that jerk on the dance floor that if he thought he could measure up to you, he obviously needed to get a new ruler because his had to be broken.”

  He barked a laugh, but that immediately faded when he moved between her thighs. Amanda lifted her leg again, opening for him, arching toward the massive tip and rubbing her body’s natural juices over it.

  He put a hand on the door behind her head, palm flat, his strong arm just above her shoulders. She turned her head for a moment, wanting to taste his wrist, feel his blood pounding in his veins. She did so, licking the sweat off him, feeling the strength of his pulse against her tongue. His excitement merely fueled her own as she looked back up into his face, losing herself in those blue eyes.

  Their stare never broke as he eased into her. He moved slowly, with utter restraint. Amanda’s mouth fell open with a tiny gasp at the feel of him as he went deeper, inch by inch. He was solid and thick, stretching her, making a place for himself within her body.

  A temporary one, she knew that. But she also knew it was one she would never ever forget. This was the one-night lover every woman fantasized about at least once in her life. And for tonight, he was hers.

  “Perfect,” he said, echoing his earlier claim.

  This time, she knew what he was talking about. Knew as he slid home, burying himself to the hilt inside her, that he meant their connection was perfect. Being joined with him felt about as wonderful as anything on this earth possibly could. “You okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Sensations battered her, his smell, the heat of his skin against hers, his warm breaths against her cheek. She even felt his heartbeat, realizing at once that its rhythm was perfectly matched to her own, as if they shared one single organ.

  “Perfect,” she finally agreed.

  As if he’d been waiting for her, to make sure she was really okay with his incredibly deep possession, Reese finally began to move. He dropped his hands to her hips, holding her still as he slowly withdrew, then slid into her again, making her feel so damn good she let out a tiny sob.

  The next thrust was a little harder. The one after that harder still. Each wrung a louder groan from her throat.

  “More,” she ordered, digging her hands into his broad shoulders, still stunned by the strength of the body he’d hidden beneath that conservative suit.

  “You got it.”

  He lifted her, his hands holding her bottom, controlling every thrust, every move, every sensation. Wrapping her legs around his hips, Amanda kissed his cheeks, stroked his hair and held on while he brought her to another intense orgasm.

  It rocked her, hard. She threw her head back and cried out, banging into the door but not really caring. Nor did she care when Reese seemed to lose whatever remnants of control had been restraining him. As if her cries of pleasure had stripped away his every thought, he drove into her mindlessly, until finally, with a cry that was twice the volume of her own, he climaxed, too.

  He held her there for a long time, still inside her, his breath sounding ragged and his heart pounding crazily against hers. Finally, though, he let her down to stand on her own two shaky legs.

  He didn’t let her loose entirely, keeping his arms draped around her shoulders. Finally, after a few minutes during which her pulse dropped back from the red zone to orange, he lifted a hand to her face and cupped her chin. “Amanda?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Where do you live?”

  “I have an apartment not too far from here.”

  He nodded, then disentangled himself from her with one last, regretful caress. “Let’s get dressed. Or, get as dressed as we can given the missing buttons.” He stared at her intently, as if he were looking for some clue to her mood. “If you really meant it, if we’ve only got one night…”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She knew what he was asking. Did she really want to stick to that original condition?

  Oh, God, was she tempted to tell him to forget what she’d said. Having had him once, it seemed almost inconceivable that she wouldn’t have him again after tonight.

  But a small voice inside her head—the one that kept reminding her of just how badly every one of her previous affairs had ended—wouldn’t let her do it. So she said nothing.

  He nodded once, then pressed a hard kiss on her lips.

  “Got it.” He handed her her clothes and began pulling on his, as well. “Let’s hurry up, then. If we’ve only got this one night, I want to spend as much of it as I possibly can in your bed…making love to you.”

  Her hand shook a little. Because with those words, those sexy, tender words, a sneaking suspicion crossed her mind.

  One night was not going to be enough.

  4

  Veterans Day

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Sent: Tuesday, Nov 10, 2009

  Subject: One more time?

  Reese—

  Another holiday…whaddya say? Want to meet me for a Veterans Day game of captured enemy soldier vs. ruthless interrogator?

  Manda

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Sent: Tuesday, Nov 10, 2009

  Subject: One more time?

  Affirmative. Where. When.

  R.

  PS: Tell me I get to be the ruthless interrogator.

  BEING INTERROGATED had never been so much fun.

  Lying in bed in the Cleveland hotel room, Reese watched as the sexiest woman he knew emerged from the bathroom. She was wrapped in a white towel, her skin slick and reddened from the steamy hot shower she’d just taken. It was probably also that way because he’d been touching her, tasting her, adoring her all afternoon. And though he’d already spent almost as many waking hours today inside her body as he had out of it, he already wanted her again.

  He still couldn’t quite believe this had even happened. Not the sex—God, yes, that was bound to happen whenever the two of them were in a room with a flat surface. But them being together again at all.

  He’d tried calling Amanda a couple of times after they’d said their goodbyes in Chicago the morning after Halloween. She hadn’t responded. Nor had she returned his e-mails.

  Finally, he’d had to accept the fact that she’d meant it—one night only. He’d have to live for the rest of his life with the knowledge that the most desirable woman he’d ever met, and the best sex he’d ever had, were both in his past.

  He’d tried to get his mind back into his real life. So much needed his attention: the business, the family, his own house. Responsibilities seemed to weigh heavier on his back every time he answered the phone or opened his front door.

  Then, out of the blue, this morning, her message.

  He hadn’t hesitated. Inventing an out-of-town meeting, he’d thrown a few things in a bag, dropped his dog off at a buddy’s and headed to Cleveland. He’d needed no further details than the name of the hotel and the time she’d be there.

  There was nothing that could have prevented him from making the trip. Absolutely nothing that would have stopped him from accepting her invitation to sin.

  And oh, sin they had.

  “You know, I might have been lying about where the top-secret orders were hidden. They might not really be inside Jimi Hendrix’s guitar at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Maybe you should torture me again to get the truth out of me,” he offered.

  Reaching for her purse, Amanda grabbed a hairbrush from within it, and turned to face the mirror. She caught his eye in the reflection as she began to brush the wet strands. “Sorry. Not buying it. I don’t think anybody could have held out against that last round of—” she licked her lips “—questioning.”

  God. He began to harden again, just at the thought of it. That last round of questioning had been unforgettable.

  Well, to be
honest, the whole afternoon had been unforgettable.

  She’d been playing her role from the minute he’d walked through the door of the hotel room. He was her prisoner and he had to do what she said. He’d gone along, liking the wildness in her. She was aggressive, demanding. So damned sexy.

  Amanda had insisted that he strip. Threatening to punish him if he didn’t cooperate, she had then instructed him to sit in a chair right beside the head of the bed.

  Half curious, more than half turned-on, he’d agreed to her terms. He wanted to see how far she would go, just what she had in mind. So he’d given his word he would not rise from that chair, no matter what she said or did.

  He’d been certain he could do it. Absolutely positive. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get up, not even if the room caught fire.

  Then it did. Or, at least, she’d made it feel that way, filling the place with so much intense heat he’d thought his skin was going to peel off his bones.

  It took every bit of his strength to remain still, just an observer. Because with pure wickedness in her eyes, Amanda had slowly slid out of her clothes and gotten comfortable on the bed, directly in front of him. There she’d proceeded to thoroughly pleasure herself.

  Seeing her hands move over that amazing body, being an observer, unable to participate, had been exactly the torture she’d anticipated. He’d begun to sweat, to pant, to strain and to clench his fists in a quest for control.

  Not content to just run her hand across her bare breast or delicately stroke her long fingertips over her gleaming slit, she’d actually pulled out a vibrating sex toy. He’d had to sit there, silent, nearly dying, while she’d used it to bring herself to orgasm three times.

  Then, still ordering him to stay still and leave everything in her control, she’d climbed on top of him and slid down onto his shaft, taking him deep inside her body, controlling their every move, every thrust, every stroke. At one point she’d even turned around to ride him like a cowgirl, all while smiling at his reflection in the same damn mirror she was using now.

  He was pretty sure he’d come at least a gallon when she finally did let him go over the edge with her. And that had been only the beginning. “You’re incredible.”

  “Must be Stockholm Syndrome,” she quipped. “You’re infatuated with your captor, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Infatuated. Good word. Maybe even on the verge of obsessed.

  “Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

  He very much doubted it. “I don’t think so.”

  Her smile faded a little at his intense tone, and her eyes shifted as she busied herself finishing her hair. He suddenly wondered if he’d touched a nerve.

  “You might say you like all of me, but I bet there are certain parts you like better than others.” She pursed those lips, reminding him of everything else they’d done so far today. Amanda’s second round of torment had involved her luscious mouth.

  He had loved giving her oral sex their first time. But Reese had never even contemplated how mind-blowing it would be when she wrapped her lips around his cock. Again and again, she’d brought him to the very edge, taking him as close to orgasm as she could get him, then backing off, cooling things down.

  He’d held out as long as he could, liking this reckless, wild side of her. Not to mention loving the feel of her lips and tongue sucking him into oblivion. Finally, though, it had gone too far and he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. So he’d played his role in the game, giving her the “information” she had been asking for.

  But instead of ending it, pulling him down on top of her so he could finish things in the sweet channel between her legs, she’d ended the game with her mouth. She hadn’t even given him the chance to do the polite guy thing—or the standard porn movie one—and pull out before reaching the end of the countdown.

  Wild. Erotic. Intense.

  She was his every fantasy. And about as far from his real life as a woman could possibly be.

  He forcibly pushed that thought away. Because, though they’d done almost no talking so far today, he didn’t imagine Amanda’s feelings about what they were doing—and what they were going to do in the future—had changed. A one-night stand had evolved into a holiday affair. He just didn’t know how far out on the calendar she’d want to go. She might be his Thanksgiving feast or his ultimate Christmas present. If fate was kind, perhaps she’d be the one coloring his Easter eggs.

  Or they might have tonight and nothing else. Ever.

  Not knowing drove him crazy, in both a good way and a bad one. The possibility that this might be all made him desperate to have and take and possess her as much as he could.

  It’s not all. It can’t be all.

  “I’m hungry,” she said.

  Thrusting away his thoughts of tomorrow, he knew he had to focus on tonight. He rolled over to sit up on the edge of the bed. One thing was sure—he needed to eat in order to have the strength to spend the rest of the night the way he wanted. “Me, too. Please tell me I’ve been cooperative enough to get more than bread and water.”

  “How’s cold gruel sound?”

  “Uh-uh. I need protein. Let me take you out to dinner.”

  Her mouth fell open, but quickly snapped closed again. After a hesitation, she murmured, “I don’t know…”

  “I’ve got to keep up my strength. How else can I hope to resist you?”

  Her head turned a little and she averted her gaze. “Resist me? That’s what you call resisting?”

  “Come on, cut me a break. It’s kinda hard to say no to a woman when she has your cock in her mouth.”

  Amazing. They’d done the most intense things to one another, but he’d swear a slight flush rose in her face at his words. And she still wouldn’t look at him.

  Embarrassment? That seemed crazy, given all they’d shared. Besides, her unease hadn’t started with his crass comment, but when he’d suggested that they go out to eat. Or maybe a few minutes before that when he’d admitted to being infatuated with her.

  “Let’s stay in. We can order room service,” she insisted.

  She’d play sex games with him all afternoon, but didn’t want to go on anything resembling a date? Interesting.

  Reese stood and walked up behind her, dropping his hands to her hips and pressing a kiss on her nape. “Room service for breakfast,” he whispered. “Tonight, though, let’s get out of here for a little while.”

  She still looked uncertain. As if, now that the game was over, now that they were played-out and talking about something as simple as food, she didn’t know what to say, how to act.

  Or who to be.

  “We both know that’s not what this is about…”

  “Look, I’m not proposing, okay?” he said, forcing a noncommittal laugh. “It’s dinner. Eating together, not any kind of a declaration. Sharing a meal doesn’t elevate this to anything more than the two-night stand you’ve decided we can have.”

  Her eyes flared in surprise, as if she hadn’t guessed how easy she was to read.

  Reese shrugged. “I’m not stupid, okay? I know what you want, and what you don’t. I accepted that when I showed up here today.”

  She still hesitated.

  “No pressure, no hidden meanings, just food,” he said, coaxing her as carefully as he would a wild bird with a piece of bread. “You can choose where we go. As long as it’s someplace that serves red meat, I’ll take it.”

  She nibbled her bottom lip, than finally said, “Do you consider pepperoni red meat? Because I could really go for some pizza.”

  He almost breathed a sigh of relief. Both that she’d said yes, and that she wasn’t a woman who liked to nibble on a few carrots and pieces of lettuce and call it a meal. “Perfect.”

  She managed a weak smile. “You say that a lot.”

  “You are that a lot.”

  He met her stare in the mirror. Amanda didn’t exactly pull away at the gentle push into more personal, intimate territory that fell out of the boundaries of their sexy games.
But the muscles beneath the silky skin tensed ever so slightly. Enough to warn him to back off.

  He did. “Give me ten minutes to grab a shower.”

  Gently letting her go, he walked toward the bathroom, figuring she needed a chance to pull herself back together. Hell, so did he. Because in the past few minutes, it had hit him—hard—that despite being more intimate with the woman than he’d ever been with anyone in his life, he didn’t know much about her.

  Sure, he knew he liked her. Knew she had a great sense of humor, was smart and hardworking. Knew that right before she came, she emitted this adorable little high-pitched sound from the back of her throat.

  Beyond that—not so much. He’d been to her place, in an old downtown Chicago highrise, but even seeing where she lived hadn’t offered many answers about her personal life. She had no pets, no plants, no pictures, nothing that personalized her apartment at all. Entering it, he’d immediately known it was just a place for her to eat, sleep and chill—not really what anyone would call a home.

  So maybe this time-out for dinner, with no play-acting, no innuendo…no sex…would be a good thing. Maybe it was time to take a step back, drop the pretense and actually get to know the real people playing the games.

  She might not like it, she might not want it. But Reese did. Because he had the feeling the woman behind the wild seductress was someone he really wanted to get to know better.

  AS THEY WALKED INTO a nearby Italian restaurant recommended by the hotel’s maitre d’, Amanda found herself starting to sweat. And not just because Mr. Hotness was walking so closely behind her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

  This was too much like a date. Way too much like a date. And while she liked Reese Campbell a lot, dating him hadn’t been part of the deal. Dating made this too real, when all she’d set out for from the beginning was a fantasy. A one-night stand that had somehow segued into two.

  And only two. This was it, tonight had to be the end of it. Her life was just too complicated, and Reese was too incredible a guy for her to get any more involved with. He was too stable, too solid, too nice.

 

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