by Lynne, Donya
His eyelids fell as his gaze dropped to where his finger played between her breasts. When he spoke again, his voice was a deep, predatory growl. “I want you so bad it hurts.”
And he didn’t just mean this very instant. He meant for the rest of their lives.
“Then take me.”
Did she understand his double entendre?
Her gaze locked onto his mouth then jumped to his eyes a split-second later. In that instant, he had never been more certain about his feelings. From the moment he first set eyes on Karma, his life ceased being his alone and became one with hers.
He bowed his head, stroking his palm across the bare stretch of skin exposed by the dress’s deep neckline as if he wanted to reassure himself she was real and not just a mirage. “Sometimes I wonder what I ever did to deserve you.”
It was an odd thing to say at a time like this, but he didn’t care. It was how he felt, and the words spilled before he could stop them.
She closed the remaining distance between them and pressed her hand between his legs, making him suck in a breath. She’d never made such a bold move, and it damn near set his body on fire for how incredibly sexy it was. Her eyes lit with mischief and daring as if she didn’t care who saw her stroke him through his pants.
He certainly didn’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how strong their bond was. So strong that the world around them disappeared and left only them. To love and touch without concerning themselves with what the rest of the world thought.
“You saw what no one else did,” she whispered. “That’s what you did to deserve me.”
What she didn’t know was that she did the same for him. She saw the man no other woman had ever taken the time to see. The vulnerable man hidden beneath a confident exterior. The man who’d been hurt, was scarred, and who had desperately wanted to fall in love again, despite his fears.
That’s why she’d been able to break through his defenses when no other woman could. Because she was different. Because she had never viewed him as a trophy or a stepping stone on her way up the gold digger ladder. His money and social status had never factored in to her feelings for him. Not once. She’d fallen in love with him for him.
Her hand stroked him up and down, and any resolve he’d maintained for the past two hours evaporated as a plaintive moan broke from his throat.
He dropped his hand to hers and linked their fingers together.
“Come with me.” He snatched their cocktail napkins from the table then turned and led her away, his pace brisk and strong.
She had to quicken her steps, but she kept up as he pushed through the back exit of the ballroom into a service area. He hurried them away, around a corner, around another corner, looking, his eyes constantly searching.
“Where are we going?” she said, giggling and breathless as she took two hasty steps for each one of his.
He loosened his tie, already broaching on out-of-control. “Somewhere I can fuck you into next week,” he said, voice gruff but restrained, eyes constantly searching . . . searching.
Jesus, didn’t this hotel have a back hall or a service elevator or—
His gaze lit on a heavy metal door. The sign on the wall indicated it was a stairwell.
It would do. Quite nicely, in fact.
He shoved the door open, pulled her through, and then slammed it behind them. The lighting was dim, the stairwell monochromatically grey. Dark, but not too dark.
Before she could even turn around, he was on her, shoving her against the wall, unbuttoning his jacket, releasing his tie, his mouth seeking hers as she quickly recovered and began unfastening his pants.
Their passion fed their urgency, and their urgency fueled their passion in a vicious cycle of desire. Reason and logic evaporated as carnal hunger took over.
It was that sexy as hell conference room sex he’d never forgotten from two summers ago all over again, only more out of control. More abandoned. Wanton and lusty and shamelessly liberating. And hot as fuck. The only thing that would have made it hotter would have been if someone came up the stairs and stopped to watch. Just the idea that someone stood on the landing below, peeking over the metal banister, was enough to send his excitement into the stratosphere.
He tugged the shoulder straps down her arms, and the dress fell in a heap, leaving her in only her necklace and her shoes. Her lovely shoes with her dainty toes poking out from under the strap.
He dropped his pants, shoved his shirt tails aside, and rolled on the condom he’d pulled from his pocket.
“I’m not going to last long,” he said, lifting her off the floor.
She threw her arms around his shoulders, her legs already around his waist. “I won’t, either.”
Then he was inside her, her back slapping the cold concrete wall as he thrust into her hard and fast.
Within seconds, she came, crying out so that anyone passing in the hall could have heard her. Jesus! But the thought sent a shard of lust straight into his balls.
“You want someone to find us, don’t you?” he said, voice strained, breath coming as hard as his thrusts.
She trembled and shook her head. “No . . . I . . . oh God, I’m going to come again.”
“Fuck yes . . . make it loud.” If someone actually walked in on them while she was coming, he’d shoot his load. Hard. The fantasy realized.
As her insides tightened for orgasm number two, he hooked his arms one-by-one under her knees and opened her legs, splitting her, driving deeper, and deeper still as he pushed forward and planted his hands on the wall on either side of her shoulders, hiking her legs upward. She was completely vulnerable, her legs open and supported on his arms.
And she came again, crying out louder this time, giving him what he wanted, pushing her boundaries beyond her comfort zone. For him. No woman had ever sacrificed herself so completely for his pleasure before. And from the way her eyes sparkled and the corners of her mouth briefly curled upward, she liked the new version of herself she was becoming.
“Someone’s watching us,” she whispered, licking her lips and glancing over his shoulder.
Holy fuck! Holy shit! Yes!
He groaned then grunted, his body taking over for his brain, jack-hammering his hips like a piston in a high-powered engine as his thrusts quickened and deepened as if driven by an outside force.
He was about to come.
“Fuck, fuck…oh fuck.” He slammed into her, pumping hard, coming as he gasped and shuddered.
* * *
Karma’s insides spasmed a third time as his cock jerked and filled the condom. Then he glanced over his shoulder toward the empty stairwell.
When he looked back at her, he wore a confused expression. “I thought you said . . .”
She grinned, still trying to catch her breath. “I lied.”
His eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” Her grin widened as she searched his eyes, which lit with awareness a couple of seconds later.
“You wanted to heighten the fantasy for me.”
She nodded. “Did it work?”
A single trail of perspiration broke from his hairline and trickled down his temple. “Hell, yeah, it worked. Couldn’t you tell?”
She held up her hand with her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. “Maybe just a bit.”
With her legs still spread eagle and pinned to the wall, they took another quick moment to catch their breath, and then Mark helped her down before hastily ripping off the condom, using one of the cocktail napkins he’d swiped to wipe himself off and then wrap around the condom, which he then tossed into the large trash can in the corner.
He pulled up his pants as she secured her dress back into place, and then she helped him button, tuck, and tie himself back together.
“How do I look?” he said, brushing his fingers through his hair, still out of breath.
“Dashingly handsome.” She brushed her thumb over the layer of perspiration just below his hairline.
/> “Am I sweating?” He dabbed at his forehead with the other napkin.
“A little.” She pulled a tissue from her pocketbook and giggled as she helped wipe away his sweat.
He grinned. “What’s so funny?”
“Did we just do that?” Her legs were still trembling, and she nearly teetered over.
Mark caught her and laughed as he steadied her. “We sure did.” Then he tucked his face against the side of her neck as he always did after sex. By now, it was a trademark move. “I love you.”
“I certainly hope so after what we just did,” she said, setting off another round of laughter.
He sighed, kissed her shoulder then pulled away.
“Do I look okay?” She pressed her palms down the front of the dress.
Smiling, he nodded. “You’re glowing.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks as she smiled back at him. “So are you.”
He held out his hand as he ran his other down his tie. “We should probably get back to the party.”
She gave him a sly look. “Do you think they’ve missed us?”
“Probably not.” He ushered her through the door and took her hand, leading her at a more leisurely pace in the direction they’d come from.
Taking a detour, they came out in the main hall leading to the grand ballroom. As they entered, he bent and whispered in her ear, “I’m not finished with you tonight, Miss Mason.”
She casually plucked a flute of champagne from a passing tray then met his gaze head-on. “I’d be terribly disappointed if you were.”
She was more than up for the challenge. Tonight, she was his equal in every way. She had never felt so bold, so decadent…so magnificent. And as she sashayed with newfound confidence alongside him as he greeted old friends and nodded at others, introducing her at every turn, she didn’t think she could be any happier.
Nothing could spoil her mood tonight. Absolutely nothing.
Chapter 27
Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else. You are the one who gets burned.
-Buddha
“You’re more beautiful tonight than the night I met you,” Mark said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It must have fallen out during their wicked stairway tryst. “And I was pretty enchanted by you that night, so that’s saying something.”
They were seated at one of the round banquet tables, their chairs so close to each other it was like they were sharing one seat. The wait staff was still clearing the dishes from dinner, which they’d barely made it back in time for.
A full jazz ensemble played an easy, romantic tune made for slow dancing.
She tugged on his tie and kissed him. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” In his tailored black tuxedo, he looked wicked sexy. Something about Mark in a suit always undid her. “Wanna dance, handsome?”
“It would be my honor.” He helped her up and led her to the dance floor, where he turned and pulled her into his arms and swayed her to the gentle beat.
Two years ago tonight, she’d met Mark here. At the same charity benefit, in the same hotel. Maybe the dress had been different—and the shoes—but once again she was Cinderella, and he was her prince.
Talk about coming full circle. Here they were, back where it had all started.
Only this time, she wouldn’t flee his room after he took her upstairs to their suite. She would let him touch her. Let him push her against the wall, just as he had in the stairwell. Let him drive his fingers into her hair, crush her mouth with his, and undress her. She would let him toss her onto the bed, hold her down, bury himself inside her until she cried his name and felt him twitch as he slammed his hips into her and came.
She swayed closer, her body melting at what they would do to each other after the benefit was over.
“I feel so close to you tonight,” he whispered, bending his head toward hers so his chin kissed her temple.
“Me, too.” She closed her eyes and drifted on the music, her palms soaking up the warmth of his chest.
After the song ended, they made the rounds again then visited with his parents before returning to the dance floor for another round of slow dancing. Then they stopped by the bar and ordered a single scotch for him and a glass of champagne for her.
As they waited for their drinks, he leaned his elbow against the polished edge of wood and angled toward her, his hand on the curve of her hip, his thighs bookending her legs, the front of his body gently pressed against the side of hers.
“One more drink,” he said, “and then I’m taking you back to the room.”
“You’re going to bail early?” She placed her fingertips at the base of her neck, feigning shock.
“I’m highly motivated. Besides, I’ve been to enough of these gigs they no longer hold my interest.”
She laughed. “Is that so?”
“Only one thing interests me right now, baby.” His eyelids lowered as his gaze fell to her neckline.
She slid her fingers from her neck to between her breasts, tantalizing him.
The bartender set their drinks in front of them, and Mark tore his eyes away to pick up her flute of champagne and hand it to her. “Drink up, Karma. The sooner we finish, the sooner we—”
“Mark. Karma. Hey.”
She looked over Mark’s shoulder as he turned. Rob and Holly were walking toward them.
Mark gave her an apologetic smile. “Okay, so that’ll be a raincheck.”
She giggled and gave his arm a playful push. “Don’t worry,” she said quietly, “I’ll keep warm for you.”
He narrowed his eyes and smirked, letting out a quiet growl, then turned just as Rob and Holly joined them.
He and Rob shook hands, and she hugged Holly. “Good to see you again,” she said.
“Same here.” Holly stepped back and looked her up and down. “And this dress is incredible.”
“Thanks. Mark made me wear it.” She winked and gave Mark a sideways glance.
Holly laughed. “It’s sad when a man knows what looks good on a woman better than the woman does, isn’t it?”
Karma liked Holly. She was funny and smart and always seemed to have a smile on her face.
“Where have you two been?” Mark said, chucking Rob’s arm. “You’re late.”
Rob pointed toward Holly. “Holly’s morning sickness was pretty bad today. She finally fell asleep this afternoon, and I didn’t want to wake her, so . . . we’re running a little behind.”
“But I’m fine now,” Holly added then turned to Karma. “And I’d love to have you over for lunch tomorrow, if you’re available.” Holly hugged her hands beseechingly. “Rob’s being fabulous about everything, but I could really use a woman’s opinion on the nursery, and I don’t really have any close female friends to giggle with over baby clothes and things.”
“I’m not sure when we’re leaving.” She looked inquisitively at Mark.
“There’s plenty of time,” he said. “Go ahead. You two should make an afternoon of it.” He paused then glanced toward Rob. “That way Rob and I can catch a few games of hoops at the gym. Right, Rob?”
Karma frowned. Something in Mark’s tone was off.
Shaking off the feeling there was something they weren’t telling her, she returned her attention to Holly. “Sounds like we’ve got a date.”
Holly’s smile brightened the room.
“So, how far along are you now?” she asked.
“Just under two months.” Holly took Rob’s hand. “And the morning sickness has been dreadful. But don’t worry. I usually get a few good days after days like the one I had today. I should be fine tomorrow.”
“So, it’s settled,” Rob said. “The girls will talk baby clothes, and you and I . . .” He glanced at Mark, and an unspoken message passed between them. “We can go for some much needed one-on-one at the gym so I can show you how it’s done, son.” He grinned. “But enough about tomorrow. I’m ready to gamble away some serious play money
.” He nodded in the direction of the casino room.
Mark gave her another apologetic glance as he took her hand and fell in step behind his friends as they made their way from the ballroom. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. The delay will just make it better when we get back to the room.”
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the three of them were hiding something from her. That whole exchange back there had been too weird, full of unspoken messages.
The crowd in the casino room was thicker than earlier. Practically shoulder-to-shoulder in places.
“Damn! What’s with the crowd?” Rob said.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t like this earlier. But it seems to be concentrated around the poker tables.”
“Yeah. Wonder what’s going on.”
Mark and Rob navigated them through the jostling crowd, and then Mark came to a dead stop, his hand tightening around hers, as Rob and Holly continued cutting through the throng. Mark’s mood shifted so drastically a cold draft swept from his body like a phantom.
“Mark? What’s wrong?” She glanced up at him and frowned.
The color drained from his face, which was hard as stone.
“He wasn’t supposed to be here.” The words were almost a murmur, void of emotion. He didn’t sound angry . . . or upset . . . or anything really. Just . . . dead.
“What?” She followed his stare to a black-haired man as he revealed his cards. Those around him gasped then began clapping. Apparently, he’d won. And based on the mountain of chips in front of him, he’d been winning a lot.
So, this was what everyone was here to see. A big bad poker game.
What was the fascination with this card game?
“He’s not supposed to be here,” Mark said again, a little louder this time. “They weren’t on the list. I’m not ready for this.” He spoke distractedly, and his gaze was darting around the crowd as if he were looking for someone, his agitation palpable.
“Mark, are you okay?” Rob said as he and Holly returned. The concern on Rob’s face was enough to make Karma realize something was terribly wrong.
“Am I missing something?” Karma asked as Rob grabbed Mark’s shoulders and gave him a gruff about-face and started directing him back through the crowd. “Who was that? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”