Heat It Up

by Elle Kennedy

  She wrinkled her forehead. “The pharmaceutical company?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged. “My family is the B in BCI.”

  Jane looked impressed. “Can you buy me something outrageously expensive?” she said suddenly, an impish smile curving her lips. “You know, so that I can tell everyone the B in BCI is my sugar daddy.”

  He barked out another laugh. “I really hope you’re kidding.”

  “Of course I am,” she said as she dropped her purse on the arm of the couch. “I don’t need outrageous gifts.” Her voice suddenly grew husky. “Everything I want is standing right in front of me.”

  A jolt of arousal sizzled down to his crotch. He knew what she meant. Everything he wanted was standing in front of him. Jane had changed out of the sexy bikini into an even sexier knee-length sundress that clung to her curvy frame. The vibrant yellow dress looked amazing with her red hair, and the way the material swirled over her shapely legs sent another spark of heat to his groin.

  “Are we going to keep ignoring it?” Jane asked.

  He swallowed. “Ignore what?”

  “The fact that we want to rip each other’s clothes off.” She took a purposeful step toward him. “Tell me the truth—have you ever felt anything like this before?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  He could swear he saw a flicker of vulnerability on her face. “Me neither.” Whatever he’d seen in her gaze was burned up in the seductive fire that filled her eyes. “I don’t quite understand it, but I know I don’t want to fight it.”

  “What about dinner?” he said roughly.

  “I’m thinking we satisfy the other hunger first.” She tilted her head to look at him, making him realize just how petite she was. “What do you think?”

  He stared at her sensual mouth, his throat becoming dry. He could just say no. Tell this hot little seductress that he had no interest in being seduced.

  But that would be a lie.

  “I think,” Becker said in a measured tone, “that you really need to take that dress off.”

  Chapter Three

  There. He’d said the words, and there was no turning back now. Becker couldn’t tear his eyes off Jane as she slowly reached for the straps of her dress. She slid one over her shoulder then arched a brow. “You’re sure?”

  He licked his dry lips. “Yes.”

  With a satisfied smile, she pushed the straps down, tugged on her bodice, and peeled the dress down her body. The bright yellow material pooled at her feet, leaving Jane in a sheer white bra and a pair of skimpy panties between her tanned thighs.

  Shit, she was gorgeous. With that long, wavy hair cascading over her bare shoulders and her endless supply of curves, she looked good enough to eat. The thought made his cock jerk against his fly. Lord, he wanted to eat her. He hadn’t gotten the chance to taste her in the elevator, and he was dying to lick her up, lap up her sweet juices.

  “Take off the bra and panties,” he said gruffly.

  Jane did as he asked, removing the undergarments and tossing them aside. She stood completely naked before him and he took a moment to feast his eyes on her. Her skin had a pinkish hue to it, as if she’d stayed out in the sun too long. Her cherry-red nipples were rigid, demanding attention. But it was the thatch of red curls at the juncture of her thighs that called out to him.

  Licking his lips again, he pointed to couch and said, “Lie down, Jane. And spread your legs wide for me. I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours.”

  Her blue eyes flashed with excitement. Without a word, she moved to the couch and sank down on the cushions. And spread her legs just as he’d requested. Becker’s pulse drummed in his ears as he sank to his knees in front of her. Her pussy was slick with arousal, her clit swollen and in need of his tongue. Rearranging the enormous bulge in his pants, Becker dipped his head to take his first taste. It was as sweet as he’d imagined, the feminine scent of her flooding his senses and making him dizzy with need.

  He dragged his tongue over her, flicked it against her clit then licked down her wet slit toward her opening. Jane gasped as he plunged his tongue inside her. “You like that?” he muttered, pulling back.

  “Yes…God, yes.”

  He fucked her with his tongue again, enjoying the breathy moans that slipped out of her mouth, loving the way she pressed her hands on his head, pushed him closer. Becker wasn’t new at going down on women, but licking Jane was a mind-blowing experience. His cock throbbed as he teased her pussy, licking, suckling on her clit, nipping at her inner thighs. Her clit pulsed under his tongue, her thighs clenched and released. She was getting close. He captured her clit between his lips and sucked on it as if it were a juicy piece of candy. Jane exploded.

  Her hot juices coated his mouth, his lips, his chin, as she lost herself in orgasm. Becker’s heart was pounding as he kept working her pussy with his tongue, drawing every last drop of pleasure from her body.

  When he finally lifted his head, Jane was trembling like crazy. Her blue eyes were glazed, her full breasts heaving from the aftershocks of release.

  “You are way too good at that,” she squeezed out.

  Smiling, Becker rose to his feet, already reaching for his T-shirt. He pulled it over his head and threw it aside, then tackled his jeans and boxers. Naked, he bent down and lifted her into his arms. Jane yelped. “Where are we going?”

  “Bed.” One word. It was all he was capable of formulating. Lust had taken over, and he could barely see straight as he carried Jane into the bedroom and deposited her on the king-size bed.

  She propped herself up on her elbows, a small smile curving her mouth. Her gaze rested on his cock, which was harder than ever and giving her a full salute. “Is that for me?” she asked, the smile widening.

  “All for you,” he confirmed.

  She scooted to the edge of the bed where he stood and reached for his dick, her warm hands encircling it. Becker’s breath hitched. She teased his sensitive underside with her fingers then leaned forward to lick the drop of precome at his tip. Becker groaned.

  “You like that?” she asked, mimicking his earlier taunt.

  “I’d like it more if you wrapped your lips around my cock,” he ground out.

  She did exactly that, her soft laughter vibrating along his shaft. Heat enveloped his cock, and his balls tightened as Jane’s hot, wet mouth moved over him. She sucked him as if her only goal in life was to bring him off, swirling her tongue over his tip then taking him so deep in her mouth he was practically down her throat. “Fuck. Yes,” he hissed out. “Just like that, baby.”

  Jane was making sexy little sounds in the back of her throat as she sucked on his cock. She was loving it, and damn, so was he. The hot suction of her mouth felt like heaven, and when she cupped his balls with one hand and squeezed, not so gently, he nearly shot his load.

  With a groan, he pried his dick out of her eager mouth, eliciting a disappointed pout from Jane’s sexy swollen lips. “I wasn’t done,” she complained.

  He grabbed the condom he’d left on the end table and put it on. “I would’ve been, if you kept sucking me off like that.” He pushed her onto the mattress, so she was flat on her back, and climbed on top of her. “And I’d rather come inside you.”

  Before she could reply, he slid his cock into her to the hilt. Jane let out a cry of delight, then wrapped her arms around him and stroked the sides of his arms. He winced as she made contact with his puckered bullet wound. She immediately dropped her hand, her blue eyes filling with concern. “Oh, God, are you okay? I keep forgetting you got shot!”

  He smiled faintly. “I keep forgetting too. Whenever you’re around, all I seem able to do is this.” He pumped into her, emphasizing his point.

  “We can stop. If your arm hurts, we should stop.”

  “My arm doesn’t hurt.” He bent down and sank his teeth into her shoulder, then licked away the sting. “My cock, on the other hand, will hurt something fierce if I don’t come soon.”

  Jane shoved her hands on t
he back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. “Well, we can’t have that.” She swept her tongue over his bottom lip then bit it, sending a jolt of pleasure to his groin. “Come on, Beck, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Chuckling, he grabbed her hands and shoved them over her head, locking her wrists together. Then he thrust into her, hard, fast, meeting the seductive challenge she’d tossed out and making demands of his own. “You first,” he muttered as his hips pounded into her. “Come for me, Jane. I want to feel you coming all over my dick.”

  She gasped from each sharp thrust, each dirty word. Her inner muscles kept squeezing his cock, her pussy so wet he could feel her juices sliding down to his testicles, soaking them. “Fuck, that’s it, Jane, I feel that pussy throbbing, you’re close, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she choked out. She arched her back, taking him in deeper, and then another yes slipped from her mouth, this one thick with desire. Ecstasy flashed across her face as her orgasm ripped through her. Becker barely had time to enjoy it, her shuddering, the pulsing of her pussy, because pleasure seized his balls and then his own orgasm was sizzling down his spine. He came hard, shoving his tongue in Jane’s mouth as his climax spun like a tornado through his body. He continued pounding into her, desperate, erratic thrusts that made Jane writhe beneath him. Their groans mingled together. Becker felt Jane’s heartbeat hammering in her chest, matching the frantic beats of his own heart.

  When they finally grew still, their breathing steady, their bodies still joined, Jane released a soft laugh. Planting a kiss to his jaw, she moved her lips to his ear and whispered, “Okay, let’s have dinner now.”

  Becker just laughed.

  “I’m only here for eight more days,” Jane said, setting down her fork.

  Their dinner was spread out on the table, the aroma of chicken and rice filling the air. Becker had ordered a bottle of wine too, and they’d already drank half of it. Jane was feeling a little tipsy, which was probably the reason she’d decided to vocalize her thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to push him, but she couldn’t stop herself from making this proposal.

  Becker popped a piece of chicken in his mouth, chewing slowly. “And?”

  “And I think it would be a complete injustice if I spent the next eight days not getting fucked by you.”

  He coughed, then shook his head and shot her a grin. “I’m trying to figure out if I’m ever going to get used to that blunt honesty of yours.”

  She grinned back, oddly pleased that he didn’t seem to mind her sometimes painfully honest nature. She’d always been this way, speaking her mind, often blurting out things she probably shouldn’t. Other men had seemed put off by it, especially when her honesty revealed something they didn’t want to hear. But Becker actually seemed to appreciate it.

  “I’m serious,” she said as she reached for a glass of wine. “I think we’ve stumbled onto something good here. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want to see me naked again.”

  She stared at him. He stared back.

  After a moment, those brown eyes of his looked resigned. “I want to see you naked again.”

  Pleasure jolted through her. “Good. So let’s do naked things for another week.”

  Becker laughed, but his expression didn’t stay amused for long. “I wasn’t kidding the other day,” he told her. “I’m getting over a divorce.”

  “How long were you married?” Jane asked.

  His eyes went guarded. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because this divorce is obviously our only obstacle, so we might as well tackle it. That way we can get back to bed.”

  Becker’s mouth twitched.

  “So, how long?”

  “Fourteen years,” he admitted.

  Jane couldn’t hide her surprise. Wow. Fourteen years? She couldn’t imagine spending that much time with a person. Her longest relationship had barely lasted three months. “You must have married young,” she remarked.

  “We were eighteen.”

  “High-school sweethearts?”

  He nodded.

  “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “Football quarterback, head cheerleader, passionate romance for four years, got married because you couldn’t live without each other and wanted to face the exciting new world together?”

  “Almost.” He sighed. “Football quarterback, head cheerleader, passionate romance for four years, got married because I knocked her up.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Sadness crossed his face. “She got pregnant, decided to keep the baby, so we got married. She miscarried three months later.”

  “And you decided to stay married?”

  “We wanted to make it work.” He shrugged. “And we did, for a long time. Alice and I were always pretty independent people. She did her modeling thing, I did the military thing, and the marriage kept us grounded.”

  “So what happened?”

  “Her modeling thing became more important than the marriage,” he said simply.

  Jane took another sip of wine, thoughtful as the cool liquid slid down her throat. “She’s a model, huh?” Somehow that surprised her, that this quiet, intense man had been married to a model.

  “Alice Dawes,” he supplied.

  “The Mystique perfume chick?” When Becker nodded, Jane couldn’t fight the tug of insecurity in her gut. Jeez. Only yesterday Jane had been flipped through a magazine and admired the perfume spokesmodel. Alice Dawes was drop-dead gorgeous. Long, silky blonde hair, pale silver eyes, a tall, willowy body. Just looking at the woman’s picture had made Jane feel frumpy and dwarfish in comparison.

  “Wow,” Jane finally said, reaching for her wine again. She drained the glass, wondering why she suddenly felt so damn inferior. One, she and Thomas Becker weren’t seriously involved. And two, he’d divorced his wife, so obviously Alice Dawes wasn’t that awesome.

  Becker pushed away his plate, smiling ruefully. “What, you find out my ex-wife is a model and now you’ve changed your mind about all those naked things you wanted to do?”

  “I haven’t changed my mind.” She hesitated. “You still haven’t told me if you’re even interested.”

  He met her eyes. “I am interested. But I’m also realistic. I don’t want a relationship.”

  “I’m only here for another week. That’s not a relationship.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “A fling.”

  Becker looked uncertain. “I…uh, I’m not a fling kind of guy.”

  Rolling her eyes, Jane pushed back her chair and stood up. She rounded the table and before he could object, lowered herself into Becker’s lap. He wore only a pair of boxers, and the second she straddled his powerful thighs, his cock went stiff, poking against her thigh.

  Jane raised her eyebrows. “I think every man is capable of being a fling man, Beck. And I think your cock agrees with me.”

  Becker’s dark eyes went even darker, burning with arousal. Although she’d put her dress back on before dinner, she wasn’t wearing any panties, and it would be so very easy to move aside the material of her dress and slide down onto his big, erect dick. But she fought the temptation. They didn’t have a condom handy, and besides, the second that distracting erection of his filled her pussy, she knew she would lose the capacity for speech.

  “My cock isn’t very reliable,” Becker said, resting one hand on her thigh. “He likes you way too much.” Sweeping his tongue over his lower lip, he stroked her bare knee.

  “And what about you?” she asked softly.

  Becker leaned forward to nuzzle her neck. He pressed his lips to her skin, kissing his way down her throat. His voice was muffled as he said, “I like you too.”

  A shiver of pleasure danced up her spine. “Then fling with me. I promise, I won’t make any demands. I already told you what I want.”

  He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “A week of sex. Is that what you want, Jane?”

  She nodded.

  The reluctance on h
is face was beginning to chip away. She could see his resolve crumbling. The lust creeping into his eyes and pushing all the hesitation away. Deciding he needed one final push, Jane reached down between them and curled her fingers over his cock. She squeezed gently then moved down to cup his heavy balls. He moaned.

  “Come on, Thomas, you know you can’t say no,” she murmured, kneading his testicles. “You don’t want to say no. So just say yes.”

  She continued playing with him, stroking, squeezing, until he released a strangled groan and said, “Yes.”

  Chapter Four

  Four days later, Becker was still trying to figure out if agreeing to Jane’s proposition was the best decision of his life, or the worst. No question, however, about the fact that this was the best sex of his life. How he’d gone for thirty-two years without experiencing sex like this was a mystery. All Jane had to do was take off her clothes and he turned into an animal. He’d fucked her every which way for the last four days. Indoors, outdoors, on every piece of furniture, on the floor, in the shower, from behind. And no matter how many times he came inside that tight, hot pussy of hers, he never seemed to be sated.

  But what bothered him more was how seamlessly she’d insinuated herself into his life. Well, insinuated was probably the wrong word. That implied she’d been the one to seek out a bigger role in his life, when it was him who’d told her to move her stuff in his cottage, him who’d convinced her to stay for breakfast every morning instead of heading back to her room to write. Since he was still on leave thanks to the bullet wound, he had absolutely nothing to do, other than look for a place to live, yet instead of meeting with the realtor, he’d been spending all his time with Jane.

  For a man who didn’t want a relationship, his actions of the last few days troubled the hell out of him.

  Those same actions evidently confused Jane, because as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot on Thursday afternoon, she turned to him and said, “I don’t get it. Are we dating?”

  Her no-nonsense tone made him smile. He’d never met anyone like Jane Harrison. Sex-goddess looks aside, she was smart as hell, unfailingly honest, and way too perceptive for his peace of mind.