Pure Desire

by Denise Tompkins

  The stranger stepped into the car. “Whipped bastard.”

  Dom dropped his arm and spun, blocking the doors from closing. “You clearly have a problem. The next words out of your mouth determine how I help you deal with it.”

  Shoving between the two men—one furious and the other a loud-mouthed chickenshit with no survival instinct—while wearing stilettos took mad skills. She managed, grabbing a fistful of Dom’s shirt near his waist. “Back off.” When he only stared over her, nostrils flaring, she shook her head. More proof that creation’s primordial soup had been supersaturated with testosterone that evolution would never be able to dilute. She ran both hands up his chest, bunching his shirt as she went until she reached his nipples. Twin peaks stiffened further as she rubbed her thumbs over them.

  A quick flick elicited a hiss, and he gripped one of her wrists.

  Pulling her other hand free, she ran it down her flank. The soft fabric of her dress wadded nicely as she pulled it up. Cool air brushed the bared butt cheek. She turned with exaggerated care and raked her heated stare over the stranger. “Get a room?” The sultry timbre of her voice was intentional and, if the guy’s hard-on was an indicator, effective. “Why?”

  “I, uh...see... Just a suggestion,” he stammered.

  “A suggestion.” She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip, considering. Then, with great deliberation, she dragged her hand down Dom’s abs and past his waistband until she stroked his impressive length. “I appreciate your concern for Dominic’s well-being—” she ran the heel of her hand from root to crown and earned a soft curse “—but I’ve got every...inch...of...this...covered.” A slow blink. “And for what it’s worth? He runs the whip.”

  Dom’s arm fell away from the door and hauled her so close she could smell the rich musk coming off his skin. His mouth crushed hers without finesse. Seduction was suddenly a game neither cared to play any longer. What remained was clear, uncomplicated desire.

  Hard hands yanked her dress up and cupped her ass. Strong fingers delved into her crevice. Her sex ached.

  She managed to get his jeans unbuttoned, tunneling her hand down the front of his pants to retrieve his cock. It came to hand as if called. Holy shit. If she thought he’d been huge through his pants, the reality of his girth and length struck her dumb. The long slit wept clear tears. She brushed her thumb through the slick fluid, spreading it around the wide head.

  Dom thrust into her hand. “Fuck,” he ground out.

  “Hell, yes,” she croaked.

  “Need to take you, Rhyan. Here. Can’t wait.”

  A sharp glance up revealed he was serious. She swallowed hard. “You’re head of security.”

  He groaned. “All I heard was ‘head,’ and I want some of that, too.”

  “You know where the cameras are.”

  “Shit.”

  “Figure it out.” She twisted her hand on the next down stroke, and his knees bent. “You gave me one night. It starts here. Now.”

  Chapter Four

  Desperation made Dominic’s reasoning slower than a northern Montana spring thaw. He couldn’t think. Not with her jacking him off. The elevator car hummed as it started its descent. “Damn it.” He grabbed her wrist, made her stop. “Car.”

  “What car?”

  “Mine.” Forgoing the button on his pants and ignoring the fact his cock stuck out well above his waistband, he hauled her through the garage at a frantic clip.

  “Slow down.” She yanked against his grip on her wrist. “I’m in heels, Dominic.”

  He spun, swept her up in his arms and, ignoring her squeaked protest, took off at a swift jog. “No time, Rhyan. Don’t know how we’ll do this, but you’re driving me crazy.” The way her silky skin rubbed over his arms, her quickening breath against his throat, the softest hint of her arousal—it combined to create a Molotov cocktail of sexual insanity. Proof? His brain had turned to ash.

  His white BMW M6 shone under the metal halide lighting. He set her down and yanked the driver’s door open. Then he stood there. Blank. He didn’t know where to start. If it was even physically possible, he wanted to do it to, with, under and in Rhyan.

  Her touch startled him. “Sit.”

  “What?”

  “In the driver’s seat. Sit. Feet on the pavement.”

  He stared at her, stupid.

  “Do it, Dominic.” She gave him a little push.

  Confusion settled over him. Nothing made sense. A sharp shake of the head didn’t help.

  “Just a sec.” Her hands slid around his waist. “Hands on the roof.”

  He didn’t ask why, just did what she demanded.

  Deft fingers finished releasing his zipper. Working his pants down, she freed his raging erection. His abs tightened under her tentative touch. She stroked him tip to root and his balls drew up tight.

  “I changed my mind. You stay right there.”

  Soft fingers ran over his belly, tracing ridges and valleys with slow deliberation. He’d been touched before, but this? This was fucking insane. She made him feel like a god, like his existence was absolutely necessary. There was an intimacy in this like nothing he’d never experienced. His brow wrinkled when she slid around him. She sat on the edge of the driver’s seat and looked up with the most sexually explicit smile he’d ever seen.

  He nodded. “Yes. Whatever you want, yes.”

  “Good. Spread your legs.”

  Jeans inhibited his movement, but he spread his legs as far as he could. His knees bent, nearly buckling when she stroked his length with one hand and massaged his perineum with the other. “Sweet mercy.”

  His eyes had fluttered shut, so he wasn’t prepared when the wet heat of her mouth closed around him. If the echo was any indication, he’d shouted. Loud.

  She worked him mercilessly, all tongue and hands and teeth. More than half-crazed, he gripped the roof edge hard enough he worried he might actually dent the car. Oh, well. Oh, fucking well. This mattered more.

  The tip of her tongue traced the slit before sliding around the sensitive corona. Without warning, she deep-throated him.

  His hips shot forward involuntarily, and he bumped the back of her throat.

  She only opened wider and accepted the reaction, a pleased hum vibrating around him.

  Dom dropped one hand to her head and fought to control his thrusts. Her finger snaked up between his cheeks. When she traced his opening and gently pressed, he stopped breathing. The pressure increased until her finger breached the outer ring of muscle. She very gently worked her way in until, seated, she curled her finger forward. The pressure on his prostate sent him over the edge. Hell, it didn’t “send him over.” It shot his ass out of a canon with a marching band send-off.

  His orgasm burned down his spine, through his pelvis and straight up his shaft. He tried to pull away. Truly, he did. But Rhyan wouldn’t let him go. Strong fingers dug into one ass cheek and encouraged him forward. That was all he needed to know.

  He let go.

  The orgasm roared over him with unapologetic brutality. Hips thrust. Balls tightened so much they ached. Cock pulsed. Knees shook and bent farther. Eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, sweet hell.” He couldn’t stop. “Oh, shit.” The way she handled him kept the orgasm coming, wringing him out until he shook.

  Her tongue slid languidly up the underside of his shaft.

  A hard shudder tore through him. “Stop. You have to stop.”

  She didn’t listen.

  The second orgasm, smaller but just as intense, hit him without warning. He grunted, hips pumping forward. The roof of the car groaned. He left finger-shaped impressions in the metal. Whatever the repair bill ran him was fine. He’d pay it twice with a smile. This, and she, had been worth every second.

  Dom pulled away and went to his knees in front of her.

  She spread her thighs to accommodate him, her dress slipping up her hips to reveal a very narrow strip of nude lace panties.

  Absolute satiation left his mind bl
ank. There were words scattered around in there, he was sure, but hell if he could string them together to form an intelligent thought. And for the moment?

  That was just fine.

  * * *

  Rhyan reached out and stroked Dominic’s face, sure she’d wrecked him and thoroughly pleased with herself. If she was going to go down temptation’s path, she would skip the whole damn way and enjoy herself. Period.

  He stared at her, eyes wide and clear. Something inside her softened. Sex typically meant a physical connection for her, the kind she longed for. This was different. Somehow. It wasn’t something she wanted to examine. Besides, they’d agreed—what they could give each other in one night. No strings. That would make her deception easier.

  A sharp pain lanced her chest and she gasped.

  “Rhyan?” Dominic’s voice sounded rusty, gruff even.

  She shook her head. A quick smile replaced anything deeper her gaze might have conveyed. “If we’re dealing in baseball terms, you seem to be up by two.”

  His answering smile spread across his face, slow and genuine, until it reached his eyes. “Baby, you just forced an error on that play.”

  He called her baby. “Yeah?”

  Dominic arched a brow. “It was a definite double on a single pitch with no one on base. You totally ditched the batting order and forced me to round home twice. It’s a first in the history of baseball.”

  She drew her brows together. “Isn’t that play impossible?”

  “Uh...yeah? It’s also against every rule in the book. But it just happened. Might as well go with it.” He tucked himself in his pants.

  Impulse drove her to lean forward and lick his shaft before he zipped up.

  His sharp hiss traced across her temple. “You’re too good to be true.”

  “Probably.” The shrug she managed was supposed to convey indifference. His look said she hadn’t quite swung it. “Moving on, Dominic.”

  He rolled his head back and forth before standing. “Good enough. I say we tie the game.”

  “Tie the... Oh.” Rhyan’s lips twitched. “You have a plan for your time at bat?”

  “Actually, I do.” He took her hand and gently pulled her out of the car, scooting her over and backing her against the rear quarter panel. “How rough do you like to play, Rhyan?”

  Pinned against the car was a great place to start.

  “If that’s how she validates parking, I want to give her my ticket, too,” a loosely familiar voice said.

  They both looked over to find the two guys from the elevator.

  Dominic laughed. “Get lost, guys. She’s mine.”

  A sharp pang of longing rang like a gong through her center. Belonging. She’d wanted nothing more than that for so long. Wanted it with someone who cherished her for who and what she was. One half of a whole. That gong resonated until she was forced to push away from him and start for the passenger’s side of the car.

  “Hey.” He grabbed her arm.

  She stopped but didn’t look back. “Let’s go. Clock’s ticking.”

  “Clock’s ticking?” The confusion in his voice wrecked her. “Oh. Right.” He dropped her arm but still reached around to open the passenger door.

  Regret, both unfamiliar and unwanted, left a bitter taste in her mouth. An apology hung on the tip of her tongue. She slipped into the car instead of offering it up. She would ultimately betray him tonight and again tomorrow, and her apologies would cease to hold value the moment he discovered what she’d done.

  With this, her last night on Earth, wasting away, she didn’t have time to get bogged down in wishes that would never come true. It was far more realistic to live in the moment, experience Dominic and leave at sunrise as planned. Alone.

  Always alone.

  Chapter Five

  Dominic absently wove the car through traffic. Something had spooked Rhyan. He replayed the conversation over and over, but nothing struck him as off. Whatever. She’d been insistent they leave, so here they were. Wherever that was. He glanced at the navigation screen. I-75. Headed north.

  He didn’t know exactly where he was headed. It would make sense to take her to a hotel. Somewhere nice. Maybe the Omni? Or the Ritz? His hands wrung the steering wheel cover hard enough to twist the leather. Damn it. If he didn’t cool it he was going to destroy his car. No woman was worth that. A sardonic snort escaped him.

  “Care to share?” Her sultry voice slipped through the car’s cabin, dark and full of promise.

  “It’s nothing.” He glanced at her before refocusing on traffic. “Nothing worth dragging the evening down over, anyway.”

  “Fair enough. Where are we headed?” She shifted onto one hip and ran her hand up his thigh.

  Muscles tightened. His abs went as hard as his shaft. Breathing became a laborious struggle. Cool your jets, flyboy. She touched your thigh. After she gave you the best head of your life. His leg spasmed and he punched the accelerator when she began to stroke him. Keep this up and you might as well shoot your load in your shorts like a rookie.

  He reached over and settled a hand under her hair.

  She jerked back.

  Disquiet settled behind his belly button. “Personal boundary I don’t know about?”

  “Sorry. I, uh, don’t like to have my ears messed with.”

  He took the Ponce de Leon exit and headed west without thinking. The ear thing bugged him. She’d struck him as Other when he’d met her, but he hadn’t pushed it. Probably should have considering the shit he could get himself into. Last thing he needed was some crazed siren or a freaking territorial Harpy. He’d check it out when she wasn’t thinking about it.

  She squeezed his thigh. “Where’d you go?”

  “Mental walkabout,” he answered automatically, turning down Lullwater Road.

  Houses grew larger the farther they went. Lots became more expansive and well kept. Cars were newer. Driveways were gated with intercoms and security cameras. The smell of old money hung on the air, thick and pervasive as blooming gardenias’ perfume.

  “Nice neighborhood.” She pulled her hand away, shifted to look out the window.

  Lifting his foot off the accelerator, the car slowed even as his pulse pounded. What the ever-loving hell? He’d taken her home. To his home. He didn’t bring women here. Ever. It violated everything he held sacred about one-night stands, particularly the morning-after exit. He did the leaving. Always. That way he was never left.

  “Dominic?”

  He pulled into the driveway and hit the remote for the gate. “It’s okay.” Such simple words. They were probably—definitely—for his benefit rather than hers.

  She lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug before settling into her seat and taking the house in with an impassive manner that got under is skin.

  “I live here.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “It’s mine.”

  She glanced over and raised her brows, her eyes sparkling in the landscape lighting. “I would hope you weren’t squatting.”

  “I... What do you... Yeah. I own it.”

  “Like I said, it’s beautiful.” Her smile was soft but distant. “Truly. I’ve craved a home like this for...a very long time.”

  “It’s just material,” he said, his tone unintentionally sharp.

  “Maybe to you. To me it represents security, a place of my own choosing, somewhere I’ll always belong.” The words grew softer as she spoke, ending on a whisper.

  He ran a hand behind his neck and pulled. “Look, this might have been a mistake.”

  “How so?” Curiosity drove the question and prompted him to answer.

  “I don’t bring women here.”

  Her chin lifted. “Then this is either an honor or, as you said, a mistake. Your choice.”

  Honor or mistake. Dom met her stare straight on. They held there so long that background sounds merged to create indistinguishable white noise. The quiet of the car bled into the moment. Time slowed, held its breath and waited f
or his decision.

  A variety of scenarios ran through his head, but he kept coming back to one. Waking up to her in his house, in his bedroom, in his bed. He would touch her, wake her by kissing her neck. Maybe her nipples. He’d slide down her body, following the lines of that luscious form as she writhed beneath him. Her fingers would twine through his hair as he settled between her thighs and tasted her. She’d call his name. Only his name.

  He jerked back, blinking rapidly.

  “Maybe you’re right. Why don’t you drop me off at the club and I’ll head back to my place.” The words were genuine, painted with resignation.

  “No.” His denial was sharp and fast. “No,” he said again, softer this time. “Stay.”

  She glanced over. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “I’d like it if you stayed.” He swallowed, trying to ease his constricting throat. “Please.”

  She shifted in her seat and studied him until he was squirming. “Is that what you honestly want, Dominic?”

  “I don’t know what I want.” He ran his hands through his hair, pulling the thick mass off his face. Closing his eyes, he breathed deep. A soft click sounded. The unfamiliar sound made him look over. She’d retrieved her cell from her little clutch.

  “I’ll just call a cab. It’ll be easier on both of us.”

  He settled a hand over hers. “Don’t.”

  “Trust me when I tell you I didn’t want meeting you to go down this way. It’s my last night on...here...and I’d rather not regret it.”

  Ouch. “No regrets.” Soft strokes of his thumb over the back of her hand and she began to relax. “I want you. Here.” His ears popped when he swallowed again. “I want you here.”

  “You’re sure.”

  “Yeah.” And that was the hell of it.

  He was.

  * * *

  Rhyan followed Dominic through the garage and into the kitchen. It was a huge room, complete with the best of everything. The way every surface shone gave the impression it wasn’t used much.

  He paused at the fridge. “Something to drink?”

  “A beer if you’ve got it.”

  The smile she’d come to value appeared. “A woman after my own heart.”