by Karin Tabke
Instead of playing it like a gentleman and backing away, he pressed her into him. If she wanted to play with fire, then he was going to let her get burned.
• • •
Sophia closed her eyes, the scent of the dangerous man behind her taunting her as if he were speaking a dare. Her fingers tightened on the big rough hand whose fingers splayed down to the tip of the soft rise of her pubic bone. She was wearing sheer thong panties that were shockingly damp.
“I like the way you move,” he said against her ear, the warmth of his breath brushing along the column of her neck. Her nipples tightened as he brought her against him. The ridge of his erection clearly defined along the small of her back.
“I know you want me.” He pressed his lips along the shell of her ear. “I want you too.”
She closed her eyes, loving the hard rasp of his voice. Loving his boldness. Loving that out of all the women in the club, he picked her.
When he pulled her back against him, his hand pressed more tightly against her, hiking the fabric of her little dress up to just below her panties. Her eyes popped open and caught his in the mirrored pillar he had moved her in front of. They were in the corner of the crowded dance floor and when she caught sight of her wanton self in the mirror with those piercing golden eyes boring into her from behind her, she lost her footing.
He grasped the curve of her hip to steady her, his long fingers possessive. “Easy, angel,” he said. “Don’t fall too hard for me.” He slowly sucked her earlobe as his eyes held hers in the mirror, causing her body to violently shake. “You might not be able to get up.”
Everything south of her chin tightened expectantly.
“Tonight, I’m fucking you” blasted through the speakers, sending Sophia’s body into overdrive.
Her body moved in slow, sensual response to the body behind her.
“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Me and you, fucking, tonight?” His hand on her hip slid slowly down to her thigh, a finger slipping beneath the hem of her dress.
Sophia closed her eyes, imagining the feel of his fingers stroking her. “Open your eyes, angel, and look at me when I touch you.”
She did as he asked and caught her breath. The planes of his face had tightened and the gold of his eyes blazed molten. His body heat had intensified and his heart, which had been so steady when he was about to take on two guys, now beat as chaotic as hers.
He moved her closer to the mirrored pillar, so that now she could see the flare of his nostrils.
“You’re playing with fire, little one. You should go home before you get burned.”
Sophia shook her head and moved the hand on her belly farther south. Just before his hand covered her mound, he stopped. She pushed harder but he resisted. “Go home before you can’t,” he warned.
Catching his hard gaze in the mirror, she realized he meant it. What the heck? “Either step up to the plate, Dark and Dangerous, or let go of me so I can find someone who will.”
She couldn’t believe she’d just said that! Did she mean it? No, she wanted him, no one else would do.
“Go home.”
“You don’t want me?” The words blurted out before she could catch them.
He spun her around and pushed her against the cold mirror. He reached down and grabbed her hand, placing it on his erection. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?”
Not trusting her voice, Sophia shook her head.
“I want you,” he confirmed. “Badly. And after that I’m going to want you again, but in my line of work that’s not possible so there isn’t going to be a first time.” He stepped back. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”
“You don’t get to make my rules!” she said heatedly. “On second thought, you’re the last man on the planet I want to get naked with!”
His lips twitched as if he was trying not to smile.
“You think that’s funny?” She kicked him in the shin. When he groaned, she kicked him again. “You’re an ass.” She moved away from him. “And you’re damn lucky I changed my mind because if I hadn’t you’d end up dead in an alley somewhere.”
She turned on her heels and ran for the private lounge upstairs that Bella had secured for them.
• • •
Supremely frustrated, Mateo watched her run from him, up the suspended stairway along the far wall that led to the VIP lounges that overlooked the dance floor. When she was out of sight, he swiped his hand across his face and let out a long string of curses.
This evening had not gone anywhere near to plan. When they got word from their CI that Sophia Dumas would be making an appearance at the club, his job had been twofold. First, since her father had no clue as to her whereabouts, she was to be watched and kept out of trouble. And second, he was to make contact so that when they met again, which they would be soon, she might be more receptive to him than not.
But no, the minute he laid eyes on her hot self, painted in that curve-hugging little pink number, he knew he was fucked.
“Way to chase the girl away, bro,” Johnny said as Mat strode from the dance floor to the hallway leading to the restrooms.
Shaking his head, Mat turned to his friend and partner. “You were right the first time, she’s trouble, Johnny Boy. I’m not going near that.”
“You’d better, ’cause those two guys you laid out are hot on her tail.”
Mat’s head snapped back. “They followed her?”
“Yup, VIP lounge number four. Better get to it.”
chapter four
After Sophia burst through the door to the lounge, out of breath and clearly unable to control the wild heat raging in her body, she stopped and leaned against the door. Closing her eyes, she bit her bottom lip. Moaning, she writhed against the hard surface as the ache in her swelled.
For the first time in her life, she wanted something more than she wanted her freedom. She wanted to feel the passion of a man who wanted her for her, not because of who her father was and what that could bring him.
Because in a weird way this thing that was happening right now was the ultimate freedom. Choosing the man she wanted to be her first because there would never be a second first. That her husband would be furious to discover she wasn’t a virgin didn’t concern her because only he and she would know. He would not dare go to her father with the news. It would only serve to anger him and reduce her husband to a cuckolded fool.
Sophia slowly exhaled until she was able to relax. She had made her choice: she’d picked the golden-eyed stranger to initiate her into the realm of a well-sexed woman because he would be good. She knew it as sure as she was never going to forget it, not even if she lived to be one thousand years old. She would have used the memory to get her through her husband’s repugnant touch.
But he’d rejected her! And she didn’t want any of those other men. None of them had made her feel anything. But the man with the golden eyes . . . ? She shivered. He had made her feel alive.
“Ohhh,” she moaned, wrapping her arms around her waist. Why couldn’t she have her way just once?
When the door to the room slowly opened, nudging her aside, Sophia’s heart stopped. Had he changed his mind? Had he come looking for her?
When the blond man from downstairs walked into the room, Sophia started. His predator eyes immediately found her and a knowing smile twisted his lips. His friend was right behind him.
“Me first,” Blondie said to his friend.
“This is a private room, you need to leave,” Sophia said, her voice shaking.
As the second one was pulling the door closed it was yanked open from the outside, and as if a large vacuum had been turned on, they were sucked out of the room.
Several minutes later the door opened again, and this time Dark and Dangerous stood at the threshold.
Sophia’s heart rate hiked as he closed the door b
ehind him and locked it.
“Were you looking for me?” she said breathlessly.
He moved around her, pushing her back against the wall. But she was not going to give him control. Grabbing his biceps, she pushed him and pinned him against the mirrored wall.
“Were you?” she asked again. His eyes creased when he smiled. Sophia caught her breath for several heartbeats.
“All my life,” he rasped as his eyes caught and held hers before dropping to her parted lips.
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Having never been so incited, she could feel it fighting for more room. When she realized he was going to kiss her, Sophia almost wet her pants.
His lips dipped to hers, but instead of kissing her, he lightly nipped her bottom lip. When she bowed into him, he groaned and slid his fingers into her hair. Angling his head, he brought her lips to his. There were no other words to describe what happened next except to say: she melted. His kiss, the feel of his lips and the desire that emanated from him was palpable. It was deep, long and erotic. Possessive, hot and oh, my—in a single fluid move he switched positions, turning her so that he pressed her against the mirrored wall.
Slow and deliberate, his lips claimed hers. Her hands slid around his waist and up beneath his jacket to his hard, muscled back. The heat between them sizzled. Was it wrong that she wanted to climb into him? That she wanted to let him do bad things to her and do them to him in return?
She wasn’t like that, but then, maybe she was—she’d never been let out to find out. And good god, had she been seriously missing out.
His lips abruptly broke from hers, causing her to cry out. He pulled her hair back so that her back bowed, causing her sensitive nipples to scrape across his chest. Sophia gasped at the sensation, biting her bottom lip to keep from moaning. His eyes blazed furiously.
“What do you want?” he demanded roughly.
“I— To be freed.”
He growled, the sound primordial in its depth. He yanked her into him and kissed her again. One hand slid down her neck to her shoulder and then down her waist to her ass. He grasped her butt cheek and pulled the fabric of her dress up. The musky scent of her inflamed sex wafted up between them. He groaned again, the sound of his desire for her fuel to her raging fire.
She was doing this. For so many reasons but mostly because it felt damn good and she didn’t want it to stop. Not ever. She wasn’t going back, she told herself. Not because of this man but because of what he awakened in her. How could she possibly go back to a life that held no passion? That never would?
“Please,” she begged, tearing her lips from his, the heat and salt of her tears stinging her eyes. “Don’t stop, not until you have to.”
“What if I don’t want to stop?”
A sob tore from her chest. Emotion crashed through her. How could this stranger elicit such feelings from her? Was she so starved for attention that she took his desire for her as something more? He was not the key to her escape. He only represented what she could never have. Not after tonight.
“I can’t stay,” she said, the desperation in her voice tangible.
He pulled back and looked hard at her. “Are you in trouble?”
Yes, big trouble, but she would not give him a reason to push her away again. “No, I just have to be home—soon.”
His lips cracked into a dangerous smile. “Hold on to me, baby,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll take you home.”
The sexy timbre of his voice, combined with the intention of his words, curled her toes. She grasped his shoulders and held on to him as he slid his hand up her waist to the fullness of her right breast. When he slid a fingertip across the stiff nipple, she hissed and bit her bottom lip. Good god, that felt good.
When he nipped her bottom lip again she parted her lips like a hungry bird wanting more of him. She didn’t know what to do except what she was doing, allowing him to explore her body, and in so doing he made her feel things she had only read about, and no discredit to the authors but damn, their words had never described this. This was amazing and decadent, and habit forming.
When his other hand slid down her body to rest on the curve of her hip, he kissed her deeply and moved his hand down her belly to cup her mound.
She moaned as her body jerked against him.
“The heat’s coming off you in waves,” he said against her lips.
Her jaw hung slack as his fingers bunched the fabric up until she felt the cool air from the room waft across her blistering skin.
When he slid a fingertip along the slick fabric of her thong above her clitoris, she nearly came in his hand. “Oh, god,” she effused. “That’s amazing.”
“Have you ever had a man’s tongue between your legs?” he asked.
The visual of him doing just that, followed by her imagination conjuring up how delicious it would feel, she realized, would never do it justice.
“No,” she admitted.
“For a girl who’s never had a man go down on her, you sure act like you have.”
His dirty talk shocked her and she liked it.
“Have you ever”—he slid his finger beneath the sodden strip of material that barely qualified as panties—“had a man’s finger here?” He circled her clitoris with his fingertip and Sophia actually felt as if she was going to crumble. Her knees shook as she fought the urge to part her legs and give him unobstructed access to her.
Barely able to breathe, she gushed her answer, “No.”
“That’s too bad, angel, because the girls tell me it feels good.”
“Show me,” she said.
“How long do we have?” he asked.
“Long enough.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s enough time for me to do all the things to you that I want to do.”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she demanded.
He did, and when he did, he slid that thick finger of his along her slick seam and then, when he slid the tip into her, she cried out, grabbing his shoulders.
“You’re soaking wet, angel.”
“God,” she gasped against his lips. “That feels so good.”
“I can’t believe as wet and hungry as you are that you’re so inexperienced.”
“Just because I’ve never . . . done this doesn’t mean that I haven’t done other things.”
He smiled a thousand-watt smile, lighting up the room, and slid his finger from her. She whimpered in protest, squeezing her thighs together in an effort to prevent his withdrawal, but he had other plans. “Oh, yeah?” He trailed his wet finger from between her legs up her belly to the high swell of her breasts, circling her puckering nipple. “I bet you’re a virgin.”
Trying to regulate her breathing and fighting the urge to close her eyes and command him to suck her nipple, Sophia shook her head. “Hardly.”
He plucked the nipple, eliciting a little “Oh” gasp from her.
“Tell me what you’ve done,” he softly commanded, increasing the pressure of his fingers on her nipple.
Sophia swallowed and said, “I’ve had sex. Mission—ary. Ahh, god, that feels good,” she rasped when he tugged her nipple.
“How was it?” he asked, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Not bad.” He pressed his palm against her breast, slowly circling it. “But not that good either,” she hurried.
“How many times?” he asked, sliding his lips against the shell of her ear. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth as he cupped her breast and gently squeezed.
“A few times,” she squeaked when he wedged his knee between her knees and parted them farther. “What . . . are you going to do to me?”
“What do you want me to do to you?”
Sophia swallowed hard and said, “Everything . . . please.”
“I want to, angel, so damn bad.” His hand stopped moving and rested on th
e top swell of her breast. “But I’m not in the habit of one-night stands with virgins.”
She stiffened. “I’m not a virgin!”
“Yeah, you are.”
Frustrated, she said, “Then why start something you won’t finish?”
“I got caught up in the moment.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious? You’re not going to . . . have sex with me?”
He shook his head and stepped back.
“I hate you!” she hissed. And she did, more at that moment than she hated in her life. She wanted this, with him, so desperately she felt as if she would go insane if he didn’t indulge her.
“You’re spoiled too.” He cracked a smile. “A spoiled virgin.”
Need. Humiliation. Frustration. It all crashed together, and since he was the cause of most of it, she slapped him. Hard. On the cheek.
The heated look he speared her with terrified her.
But he conceded the point as he rubbed his cheek and nodded. “I deserved that.”
Hot tears welled in her eyes. Here she was throwing herself at this guy, again, practically begging him for sex, again, and he didn’t want her, again. She moved past him and grabbed the door handle.
“Where are you going?” he demanded as if he had a right to.
“To find someone to give me a night to remember.” She hauled the door open as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back and pushed her against the wall. Caging her in with his hands on either side of her head, he leaned into her. His face was tight, his golden eyes sparking angrily. “You’re not going down there.”
“Yes I am, now please, let me go,” she demanded, her voice trembling. She was afraid he would force her to stay in the room and she would turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and with it her one and only chance of choosing the man to make love to her gone.
“Why are you so hell-bent on finding someone to pop your cherry?”