Silk, Lace & Videotape

by Joanne Rock

  He noticed she’d grown quiet, too, as they approached her building. She lived over her father’s studios, but the famous Clyde Matthews’s showroom was dark now that it approached seven o’clock.

  Duke told himself he would hand over her shopping bag and leave at any time. But he really hoped she would be receptive to a kiss first. He held no illusions that she would invite him inside, so he was a little surprised when she led him straight into her father’s showroom and locked the front door behind them.

  She wound her way through mannequins and rolling racks. “My loft is up here and I hate to leave the showroom unlocked for even a minute while we walk up. Do you mind coming in for a minute?” she asked over her shoulder.

  She had to be kidding. Duke fought the urge to sprint. “I’m in no hurry.”

  Keys jingled in her hands as they journeyed up three flights of stairs. Amanda’s voice drifted down as she trekked upward. “There are just a lot of locks and the door is right at the top of some stairs and—”

  He hadn’t realized she was nervous until the chattering started. Nervous because she wanted him here, or nervous because she needed him to go?

  When he started to hear more key jingling than locks opening, Duke stepped up beside her and gently extracted the key ring from her hands. “Let me.”

  Her body shifted restlessly next to his. “Thank you.” Her voice turned breathy in the shadowed stairwell.

  They were much too close.

  Her scent enveloped him, that light fragrance of a single flower. Her silk blouse shimmered softly in the dim light of the corridor, beckoning him toward her body, ensuring he could see her despite the half light.

  He paused in his task, leaving the key in the last lock for just one moment while he looked at her. In the still silence that followed, her shallow breaths echoed in his ears, sending him small signals that his presence wasn’t exactly unwelcome.

  No matter how hard he’d tried to show her his downtown lifestyle, to reveal his simple wants in life, uptown Amanda Matthews still seemed to want him.

  Duke hoped that sense of adventure of hers had survived the day because he just figured out the time had arrived for that kiss.

  Amanda heard the rustle of her shopping bag, saw Duke shift the sack to a step below them. She didn’t think he needed both his hands free to work on that last lock to her loft.

  She rather hoped he needed them to work on her.

  Nerves strung tight in anticipation, Amanda didn’t know what had possessed her to lead him this far into her domain. No man had ever ventured past her father’s showroom to her private living space before. Even Victor had rung the bell for her downstairs and waited for her there.

  Yet she’d waltzed right through the showroom and up the stairwell with Duke, unable to say good-night just yet.

  He edged closer. His hands skimmed her hips, settling on her waist. Those gorgeous blue eyes glittered in the dim light, communicating his intent.

  Oh yes, she wanted this.

  She might have swayed right off the steps without Duke’s broad palms to steady her. He guided her body to his, slanted his mouth over hers and fed her the kiss she’d hungered for all day.

  The brush of his mouth electrified her, kicking her pulse into a frenzy. He tasted like caramel apples, smelled like freshly mowed grass after their afternoon at the park. His sun-warmed T-shirt grazed her silk blouse, broadcasting his body’s heat to hers and making her thoughts scatter.

  “Amanda.” He breathed her name like an invocation, barely breaking their kiss.

  “Hmm?” She stretched her arms around his shoulders, unable to open her eyes.

  “Do you still have dinner plans?”

  The only plan she could think of was a banquet of male muscle and Duke’s kisses. “Umm…no.”

  “Because I wouldn’t want to make you late.” He leaned away a bit, inserting more space between them without untangling their arms.

  That caught her attention. She forced her eyes open and found him studying her.

  “You want to leave?” She had hoped to explore that kiss for just a bit longer. In fact, she seriously considered dragging the man into the loft and tossing him on the couch for a few hours while she reveled in every mind-drugging nuance of his kisses.

  “No.” He paused for a long moment, as if willing the word to sink in. “But if you’re expecting me to walk away so you can keep your dinner engagement, then I can’t afford to get trapped in a stairwell inferno.” His thumb traced a slow trail over her cheek. “Which, in case you haven’t noticed, is exactly what’s going on here.”

  Amanda nodded. The sensual flames licking over her flesh confirmed his assessment. “There’s no dinner engagement.”

  The words fell out of her mouth before she could weigh them—an impulsive sort of act she rarely committed. Her statement hung in the sultry air between them, suggestive and vague at the same time.

  Duke studied her as if she were a complex case to solve, his keen blue gaze missing nothing. “Meaning…?”

  “Meaning I’m in no rush.” Had she been a more brazen woman, she might have sidled closer to him and shown him just what she wanted.

  More fierce, hot kisses.

  But since she was just Amanda Matthews, Miss Barely Experienced, she merely waited and hoped he understood what she wanted.

  Duke looked around their close surroundings in the darkened corridor. “Do you think maybe we should go inside to have this discussion?”

  Amanda bit her lip, unsure what to do next.

  She’d enjoyed talking with Duke today, but she didn’t think she wanted to have a discussion of any kind with him right now.

  Still, maybe the stairs weren’t the best place for kissing. If she invited him in, she could fill her senses with Duke Rawlins for a little longer, explore the male strength of those muscles with her hands, and then…

  And then she had no idea what might happen next.

  His fingers stroked over her shoulder. “I promise not to overstay my welcome.”

  His touch, his gentle reassurance, prompted her to nod. “Okay.” She slid out of his arms and turned toward the door. “It’s not like it’s a big deal, I’ve just never had a man in my apartment before.” She opened the last lock with the key Duke had inserted a few moments ago.

  For today, at least, she would live dangerously. Duke Rawlins, bold-as-you-please detective, definitely made the perfect companion for adventure.

  Duke’s low whistle of appreciation pulled her from her thoughts.

  He’d followed her into the loft and now stood just inside the door, gaping at the vast open space. “Wow.”

  The word echoed through the cavernous loft, bounced off the long expanses of bare hardwood floor.

  Ditching her shoes, she took her shopping bags out of Duke’s hands and tossed them on the floor. “Come on in.”

  He looked like he could retreat into gentleman mode at any moment and she had no patience for good behavior today. His kisses in the stairwell, his slow tasting of her fingers at the park, had her so hot and bothered she couldn’t see straight.

  She tugged him forward by the hand, drawing him into her world of fabric bolts and swatches. Wending around the rolling racks to her couch, Amanda drew him onto the seat beside her, wanting him close.

  How bold would she have to be to get what she wanted? Didn’t he know?

  As she tilted her gaze up to his, she found him already staring down at her, his blue eyes searing into hers in the low light the setting sun cast over the room.

  Tentatively, she reached her hand to rest on his thigh, thinking maybe a bold move would be the quickest way to inspire.

  Her brain scarcely registered the low growl he made when she was scooped up and settled over his lap. His thighs cradled her bottom, providing her with an erotic seat. Her hip nudged against the hard ridge through his jeans, reassuring her it hadn’t taken much effort to inspire him at all.

  A surge of feminine power assailed her, making her
feel more seductive than all the lingerie in the world.

  Duke wanted her, too.

  He cupped a hand around her neck and drew her mouth to his before she could catch her breath. His tongue stroked over hers with slow, possessive thoroughness. What little air she had left in her lungs, he somehow stole along with his kiss, as if absorbing her into him.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, wanting to feel him, needing to hang on for dear life.

  Her dreams had never been this good.

  She slid her palms lower to the corded muscle in his neck, the sexy ripple of his shoulders through his T-shirt. Restless for more of him, she tugged at the cotton fabric. He seemed to divine her thoughts with no effort, shrugging his way out of his shirt before pitching it to the floor.

  When he came to her again, he leaned her back into the leather cushions of her sofa, his broad chest looming above her.

  The man was magnificent.

  His bronze shoulders and defined abs could have leaped right off a Calvin Klein billboard. No wonder he wore a badge proclaiming, “New York’s Finest.”

  She reached for him, desperate for his weight against her, his strength around her. But he caught her wrist before she could touch him.

  “Your turn.” He breathed the words in a husky rasp that sent a shiver dancing down her spine. “You think you can shimmy your way out of that blouse for me?”

  He sat back on his heels as he straddled her knees, waiting, watching.

  Blood pounded through her veins, making her flesh tremble with the beat of her heart. She willed her fingers to unveil herself, wanted to share this with him, but she was hypnotized by the intensity of his eyes and stricken with a sudden shyness.

  His fingers came to her rescue, trailing over the hem of her shirt. “It’s okay, honey, if you want to leave it on—”

  “No. I want it off.” She guided his fingers underneath her loose garment, fitting his palm to her waist. “I’m just not all that good at putting on a show in person, I think.”

  A slow smile curved his lips. His hand flexed over her hip. “By all means, allow me to help.”

  Amanda held her breath as the silk slid over her flesh, baring her lace bra and plenty of skin to his gaze.

  No matter how much time she put between herself and her fuller-figure days, she always feared the hips of her teenage years lurked just a few candy bars away. After spending half a lifetime struggling to cultivate a more healthy body, she was still self-conscious about her appearance.

  His wolf whistle pleased her immeasurably.

  He trailed a finger over her collarbone and down the slope of her breast. “Honey, you are even more mouthwatering in person.” He licked the finger that had touched her, as if to prove the point.

  Amanda shivered, imagining other provocative uses of his tongue. She reached for him again, wanting him too much to wait for any more undressing.

  She didn’t need to ask twice.

  Duke covered her, blanketing her body with his own, pressing her into the creamy leather of her couch with the hard length of his body.

  Her breasts beaded at the touch of his bare skin, her lace bra providing little barrier to dull her sensations.

  Desire kicked through her, fueled by the gentle rasp of his lightly bristled cheek against her smooth one, his breath warm and moist near her ear.

  “I don’t know how I’m ever going to pry myself away from you tonight, Amanda,” he whispered between kisses he trailed down her neck.

  She loved it that he would walk away if she wanted him to, that he was an honorable man despite his brash ways. “So wait until the morning,” she whispered back, her whole body tensing in anticipation as he cleared her shoulder with his descending mouth.

  And halted.

  “Morning?” He lifted himself up on his elbows to look at her.

  She longed to wriggle herself underneath him, maybe nudge the very fascinating ridge in his jeans with her thigh, anything to get him focused on her body again. But he stared down at her like spending the night was an idea he hadn’t considered.

  Well she had news for him.

  Duke might not be the ideal man for her tomorrow or next week, but he was everything she wanted right now. She wasn’t about to let him slip away.

  8

  “ARE YOU SURE ABOUT this, Amanda?” He had to give her one last out. One final opportunity to change her mind.

  “I’m sure.”

  He kissed her, hard, on the mouth. “I don’t have any protection with me, but I can hit a store and be back in ten minutes.”

  She anchored him to her. “When I went to Victor’s house the other day, I was armed with my video in one pocket of my coat and a box full of protection in the other.”

  Bless her practicality. “You win the five-star rating tonight, Amanda Matthews.”

  He didn’t complain when she slid out from underneath him to retrieve the box from her bathroom cabinet. He merely rolled off of her to the floor.

  When she returned, he watched her move across the floor with her sexy-as-a-pinup walk. “When I first saw you going into Gallagher’s building the other day, I never would have guessed you were hiding so many tantalizing secrets.”

  Amanda tucked the box in the couch cushions and slid to the floor beside him. “No?”

  He shook his head. “Never. You’ve got a siren’s walk, but you still put out a classy, untouchable sort of vibe.”

  Kneeling beside him, she trailed a finger up his arm and over his shoulder. “I hope you don’t still think I’m untouchable.”

  In answer, he hauled her across his legs, then hooked one finger in the waistband of her skirt to sketch a path along the edge of the cotton. “I think you’re ready to start revealing all those secrets you’ve been hiding.”

  Anticipation churned through Duke. The sight of Amanda’s generous curves concealed by nothing but a scrap of lace was enough to make a grown man weep in appreciation. Now, he also had the enticement of her bottom settled against his thigh, her silky skin at his fingertips. When combined with the knowledge that she was his, if only for one night, Amanda Matthews set him on fire.

  He bent to kiss her, scavenging for control, needing to make this right for her. Despite her bold entreaty to spend the night, Duke knew Amanda had little experience with men. Her father probably beat prospective suitors off with a stick.

  So tonight had to be memorable.

  “What else are you willing to show me?” he whispered between kisses, hoping the lure of their game would help slow him down, keep him from rushing to peel off her panties and seek the release his body burned for.

  Her breath came in soft pants, warming his mouth, even when she wasn’t receiving his kiss. “You might have to help me with it.” She inserted her finger in the valley between her breasts, gently tugging on the lace of her bra.

  With pleasure.

  His rough hands scraped over the smooth satin straps, skittered over her shoulder blades. He flicked the hook open, releasing her, spilling her lush body into his view.

  What an incredible view.

  Shyly, she turned into him, tucked herself and her gorgeous breasts against him. He groaned at the soft feel of her, the delicate press of her nipples into his chest.

  He didn’t know how much more fun and games he could take. As much as he wanted to make this night special, unforgettable, the tension ripping through him with each beat of his heart would kill him at this rate.

  She rubbed her cheek on his shoulder, into his neck. She wriggled dangerously in his lap, a naively sexual ticking time bomb, ready to set him off with the slightest nudge.

  Dispensing with the game, he shifted her to straddle him, his shoulders still propped against her couch. Only the city lights illuminated her loft, the dull glow from the street below filtering into the windows.

  Her skirt rode up her bare thighs and Duke helped it along with eager hands. He fit her over his erection, her lace panties and his jeans still separating them and providing a
frustrating as hell barrier to what he wanted.

  But he wanted her to see, to feel, what she did to him.

  Amanda gasped at the intimate contact. Her head tipped back, thrusting her breasts into perfect tasting position.

  Duke nipped and suckled her, tasted and laved her with his tongue, drawing her into his mouth deeply. Amanda answered him with a slow ride over his lap, pressing herself into him until he thought he’d lose his mind.

  He gripped her hips, stilling her while he steeled himself.

  “Honey,” his voice rasped thickly in the darkness. “You’re killing me.”

  “You’re not exactly being kind yourself,” she whispered back with a breathy sigh. “I want to show you more.”

  He fought the urge to roar his gratification at her words, contenting himself to rolling her to her back, settling her into the yards of yellow silk that flowed across her floor.

  She helped him free her skirt, leaving her clad in just a strip of white lace.

  “I can’t wait to see.” He cupped her in the palm of his hand for one long moment, allowing her heat to penetrate into his skin. Amanda moaned. She shifted and writhed against him, assuring him the time was right.

  Gladly, he tugged the white lace down her mile-long legs. Heaven waited for him, and all he needed to do was shuck his pants to find it.

  He couldn’t have stripped his clothes off faster if he’d had his own pit crew to help.

  “Oh. My.” Amanda looked at him with wide eyes as he stretched out over her. “You put on quite a show of your own, Detective.”

  “You were watching?” He pulled one corner of the yellow fabric over her shoulder, wanting to protect her silken skin from the rug.

  “With rapt attention.”

  “Then you must know how badly I want you.” He took her hand in his, guiding her to touch him.

  She arched her hips beneath him in answer.

  He stopped her before she could wrap her fingers around him and leaned close to her ear. “I’m going to make you want me that bad.”

  The feminine squeal that pierced through the room definitely made his wait worthwhile.