His for the Week

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His for the Week Page 3

by Gaines, Alice


  He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I don’t have a personality to speak of.”

  “Of course you do. Désirée Knight wouldn’t entertain a dull man. Be funny. Be smart. As long as your personality doesn’t mind being referred to as someone temporary.”

  “I guess that’s what this relationship is, isn’t it?” he said. “Just a temporary fling for the purposes of your article.”

  “Right.” Could the man be any more perfect? “Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Will do.” He went to one of the bedside tables, opened a drawer, and pulled something out. He held up a packet of condoms. “Thoughtful.”

  “Kind of a necessity, wouldn’t you say?”

  He set the condoms down and approached her. “There are probably a few other things we need to discuss.”

  Her pulse raced at his nearness, but she couldn’t back down, so she stood her ground and gazed into his hypnotic hazel eyes. Trying for confident, smoldering. Well, maybe not that last one, but definitely not afraid of having him near.

  “I’d like to know exactly what’s expected of me,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  She stopped herself before she blurted out that he could do whatever he wanted. True, she’d brought him here because of her job, but in fact she’d wanted him since the first time she’d seen him. She wrote a column telling women to go after their desires, so she had no reason not to follow her own advice.

  “Do whatever comes naturally, I guess,” she said. There. That hadn’t been so difficult. After that kiss at the coffee shop, they both knew what would happen once they got here. She only had to make herself relax and enjoy it.

  “What’s okay with a Hook-Up Man in public?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Holding your hand. Touching you. Putting my arm around you. Those are all allowed?”

  “They are.”

  He raised a hand to her face and rubbed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “This is allowed?”

  She did her best not to tremble. “Sure.”

  “Uh-huh.” He walked around behind her and ran his fingertips from the spot behind her ear down to her shoulder. “What about this?”

  Every inch of flesh he’d touched came alive, suddenly full of nerve endings she hadn’t known existed. “I’d say that’s okay.”

  “And this?” He pressed his lips to the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

  “For now, just in private. We’ll find out later what goes on in the Barn.” Anything more, and she’d be purring like a cat and arching to have more intimate parts of her scratched.

  “And this.” He grasped the zipper pull of her dress and eased it down. “In private.”

  “I think that’d be all right,” she managed to breathe out.

  He walked back around her, took her chin in his hand, and tipped her face up toward his. “What say I do some exploring and you stop me if I do something you don’t want?”

  “Okay.” The word came out uncertain—trembly—exactly the way she felt right now. She’d just consented to letting him do whatever he wanted. No, correct that. Whatever she wanted. And, oh man, did she want. She’d craved this man for months, and to all appearances, she’d have him now.

  He kissed her, at first just pressing his lips to hers. When he backed away, she leaned into him, placing her hand on his chest for balance. Her head was spinning as if she’d turned around and around and around.

  Now he took her face between his palms and kissed her for real, his mouth capturing hers the way it had before. The taste of him…the feel…better than her hottest imagination. She took more and more of his sweetness, nibbling on his full lower lip, and when his tongue peeked out, she grazed it with her own.

  A woman’s voice let out a cry of pleasure and surprise. Her own voice, of course. Like her and yet different. She’d kissed a few men in her life, but she’d never made a noise like that.

  He released her, straightening but not moving away. He gave her a lazy smile, his eyelids hooded, as hers must also be. Her vision had blurred with sexual excitement.

  “All right so far?” he said.

  She nodded and licked her lips to memorize the feel of him.

  “Good.” He went behind her again, finished unzipping her dress, and pulled it over her head. He’d turned out better than she’d imagined. If he wanted to undress her, fine. Underneath she wore only her bra, panties, and insanely high heels.

  She caught a vision of herself in the side mirror. She’d had enough sense to buy sexy lingerie, so she looked pretty damn good in the crimson push-up bra and matching bikini panties.

  He nibbled at her neck again, somehow finding the exact spot to make her knees weak. She should write a column about neck nibbling, and she would if she could remain sane enough to remember the details.

  Then he reached around and cupped her breasts. “Still okay?”

  “Oh, yes,” she sighed.

  “You’re perfect. Just the right size for my hands.”

  And she’d thought herself too small. As he squeezed her flesh, she seemed to blossom and swell for him. And when he unfastened the front closure, her breasts fell into his hands. Now he could tug gently on the nipples and make them stiff.

  He touched her as if he’d studied her body for years instead of minutes. Using just the right pressure to let the arousal build.

  Pulling at the bra straps, he eased the scrap of fabric down her arms and allowed it to fall to the floor. She was nearly naked now, getting ready to have sex with a stranger. Her Nate—the man of her fantasies—had now come to life in every way she’d imagined. Moving his arms around her again, he stepped close and pulled her against him. Her shoulders rested on his solid chest, and lower, the imprint of his erection pressed into her ass. Her buttocks couldn’t quite measure it, of course, but it seemed large. She’d find out soon.

  “Ready for more?” he whispered.

  His breath in her ear was enough to make her moan, but his words melted her insides. This was real. Everything she’d lusted after for all this time. It would happen. Now.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” With one arm around her for support, he skimmed the other hand over her abdomen to her pelvis. He slipped his fingers into her panties, and she held her breath…waiting, waiting…and then he parted the lips of her sex and stroked them. On the second pass, he found her clit, and she lurched, her knees nearly giving out. His strong arm held her as he continued wreaking havoc with his fingers. Soft strokes, forward and back, ending on her clitoris each time.

  “Hot,” he muttered in her ear. “Wet.”

  She was. Impossibly wet and ready to go up in flames. He kept up the pressure, now flicking his finger over her clitoris until the world disappeared. He was going to make her come this way—standing in her heels and panties in the middle of a hotel room before she’d had a chance to unpack. It all felt so forbidden and erotic. Definitely not something a “nice” girl would do and yet totally natural. As inevitable as the climax only moments away.

  “How about the bed?” he said.

  “Bed,” she repeated stupidly. He expected her brain to function?

  Without another word, he picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid her on the comforter. He didn’t join her, though. Instead, he undressed and let her watch. Shoes and socks weren’t too exciting, but when he unbuttoned his shirt and stripped out of it, she got a view of his chest. Finely muscled and smooth, he might have been a sculptor’s masterpiece except he was flesh and all male. His pants went next, and now she could check out the size of him for real. It strained against his briefs, the tip even jutting out. When he pushed the last bit of his clothing over his hips and stepped out of it, his hard-on stood stiffly away from his body.

  She could not stop staring at it. At him. She’d never seen a man so beautifully endowed. He was the stuff of fantasies…of her columns. Impossible. Everything in her writing was the ultimate and unattainable. She couldn’t be encountering it in the flesh, co
uld she?

  He’d seen her staring, of course. Smiling, he put his hands on his hips and let her ogle as much as she wanted. Looking wasn’t going to be enough, though, so she finally raised her gaze to his face.

  “Do you suppose it’d be okay if I fucked you?” he said.

  “Not only okay but required.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said. “One more thing first.”

  Bending, he removed her shoes one at a time and dropped them onto the floor. Then he eased her panties over her hips and down her legs. When he tossed them aside, too, she was completely naked and open to him. She might have felt self-conscious, but something about how he looked at her made her feel sexy instead. Empowered.

  “You know what I’ve been fantasizing about doing ever since you invited me here?” he said.

  She shook her head. Whatever it was, she’d enjoy it. His smile said he’d planned something wicked. Fodder for her column if she dared to write about it. He didn’t wait for an answer but climbed onto the bed and immediately inserted himself between her legs, his shoulders parting her thighs and his face near her mound. Holy crap. And if he was half as good with his tongue as he’d been with his fingers, he’d send her straight to heaven.

  Sure enough, he draped her legs over his shoulders and brought his face right to her sex. After parting her lips with his hands, he placed his mouth on her and began to lick.

  Ah, geez. If she’d thought he’d aroused her before, she hadn’t understood the meaning of the word. She went right to the border of the stratosphere and stayed there. No air to breathe at this altitude—nothing but the rasp of his tongue over her clit. Too much. Too intense, but she’d die if he stopped. She’d die, anyway. In a moment, she was going to burst into a thousand pieces.

  She’d thought him a master before, and now he proved it. Somehow, he managed to keep her where she was without sending her over the edge. So aroused, she couldn’t move or think of anything except how her body screamed for relief. She needed to come, and she reached for the climax.

  “Nate,” she managed to gasp. “Please…please.”

  He answered with more pressure, pressing his tongue against her clit and rolling it. Then he slipped two fingers inside her. And yes… She snapped, hurtling upward into orgasm. It clenched inside her and then broke free. For long seconds, it held her in its grip, and then the spasms started. Her muscles clenching and releasing. Even when the climax ended and she floated back to reality, the flutterings continued. They persisted as he crawled up beside her and gathered her into his embrace.

  “I guess that’s okay if I do it in private,” he said.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “I love the sounds you make when you come.”

  Sounds? None had penetrated into her consciousness. Nothing had other than the feel of his tongue on her clit. But if he enjoyed them, fine.

  Finally, she could open her eyes, and she found her face rested against his chest. This close, she could make out the scent of him. Clean male with a hint of musk beneath.

  And now she could finally touch him, so she did. Running her palms over his pecs, she toyed with his flat nipples with her thumbs. That pulled a little shiver from him. She trailed her fingers lower to his ribs and rock-hard abs. Even lower lay her prize—the magnificent cock she’d soon enjoy inside her. She found it and grasped the shaft in her fist and pumped.

  “Ah, shit.” He placed a hand over hers to still her movements. “Not a good idea right now.”

  “I can’t play?”

  “I’m ready to explode,” he said. “Play later, okay?”

  “Okay.” She’d been saying that a lot lately, and she’d say it a lot more before their visit ended. Okay to things she’d never tried and never imagined trying. Right now, she could let him take over.

  “In fact, if I don’t get inside you pretty damned soon, I’ll go nuts,” he said.

  “We can’t have that.” She reached to the bedside table and grabbed a condom. She had the great pleasure of opening the packet and then unfurling the rubber over him. At her firm touch, he gritted his teeth as if fighting for control. Maybe he had pushed himself to the edge to give her pleasure.

  With no reason to wait a second longer, she rolled onto her back and parted her legs for him. This time when he settled between them, his cock was poised to enter her.

  He was big, but he’d made her wet and eager for him. Still, he went slowly so she could feel every inch entering her. Her muscles stretched to accept him, and in a moment, he’d embedded himself in her fully. They stared into each other’s faces briefly as recognition of their perfect fit sank in, and then he began to move.

  A whole new world of sensation opened up. Yes, she’d done this before, but she’d never done this. An easy glide, and yet he possessed her completely. While his sex plundered hers, their bodies created delicious friction—his chest against her nipples and a slight stubble of his beard against her shoulder. His breath heated her skin, and his clean scent surrounded her. And what amazing sounds he made. Low moans of mounting pleasure. She answered with her own sighs, joining in an intimate duet.

  She opened her eyes to memorize every detail and found herself staring up into the mirror over the bed. What she saw robbed her of what little air she had left in her lungs. An erotic movie was playing up there. A man’s body performing sex as it was meant to be done—his hips moving, the muscles of his tight butt contracting and relaxing. By God, it was sexy.

  He paused for a second, lifted himself, and looked down into her face. His ragged breath grazed her cheek. “Are you with me?”

  “Mirror.” She pointed upward, even though he wouldn’t see the gesture. “Up there.”

  “Right,” he said. “Enjoying it?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He laughed and went right back to fucking her, now harder and faster.

  Eventually, the responses of her own body took control over what was happening in the mirror. Her mind went hazy with the pure pleasure of the movements of his cock inside her, and she let her eyes drift closed. He went deep, so deep, and her inner walls closed around him, seeking more. Her clit came to life with all the jostling, and soon she’d climax again. With him still moving inside her. Unbelievable.

  “Oh, shit,” he said. “Come for me. Can’t last.”

  Yes! her mind answered. She couldn’t have formed the word.

  “You feel so fucking good.” He went crazy with his thrusts, as if he’d drive them both off the bed. Now lost in her own need, she climbed toward the peak. Her whole body tensed, readying itself. Then the orgasm rushed through her, wiping out everything but this perfect moment. Her sex grasped at his over and over, and he answered by stiffening in her arms and letting out a roar. They’d come together with enough power that consciousness slipped away.

  When the storm ended and Rae returned to the world, she lay with her eyes closed as Nate’s body rested on top of hers, his cock still inside her. She didn’t try to open her eyes but ran her fingertips over his back.

  What had just happened? She’d spent the last few minutes living within her own columns—a make-believe world where sex scrambled your brain and left you semiconscious. That was supposed to be a dream to be reached for, not something that could actually happen on your first “date” with a man you didn’t know. Somehow, he’d made it real. A true miracle…as long as it didn’t turn into a nightmare.

  “Nate,” she whispered. “Oh my God, Nate.”

  Chapter Three

  Damn. The woman had been in the bathroom so long the room service breakfast had already arrived and was now getting cold on the table on their deck. So much for eating—unless she liked tepid coffee and greasy hash browns. Thank heaven Nate didn’t have to use the toilet himself.

  Just when Nate had had enough and rose to go find out if she’d fallen into the tub and drowned, she emerged, wearing a bright sundress and with every hair in place. She looked gorgeous, of course, and sexy as all hell with her na
ked shoulders and long legs, but by rights she ought to appear rumpled and sleepy after how hard he’d worked her last night. Or she’d worked him. Oh, hell…they’d fucked like bunnies and his body felt pleasantly used. She ought to feel the same. In fact, she should still be snoozing.

  For a moment, the phony confidence slipped, and she fidgeted. “You’re staring. Did I do something wrong?”

  “Not wrong. It’s just…” How to put this diplomatically? “Do you always wear makeup at breakfast?”

  “A girl should look her best under all circumstances, don’t you think?” She smiled as she took her seat next to him. The phony Désirée was back. “You ordered room service. I’m famished.”

  “I hope it’s still hot.” While she uncovered her plate, he poured her a cup of coffee. Just as at Sufficient Grounds, she loaded it with sugar before she tasted it. Then she dug into her food. He could happily watch her eat for a lifetime as she eased her blood-red lips around her fork.

  She obviously didn’t diet, thank heaven, because she slathered marmalade on her toast before eating it.

  “Breakfast is my favorite meal,” she said. “How about you?”

  “It could get to be.”

  She giggled and kept eating. This whole adventure could turn endearing if he wasn’t careful. And he was definitely not here to become attached. He’d tried that once, and the world had caved in around his ears. He’d keep this relationship, if it was one, casual.

  Still, she didn’t have to keep playing a part as if she didn’t trust him. They didn’t know each other, but she’d given him her body the night before. That required a lot of intimacy. Why would she continue to hide behind a mask?

  Maybe she had some reason for hiding herself from him. As if she didn’t think the quiet woman with the latte was worthy or something. That woman’s columns had fueled his libido and made him feel alive—if horny—after his divorce. He’d really like to thank her for that, but not if the confession that he knew who she really was might scare her. She’d sounded pretty terrified talking to her friend in the restroom of the coffee shop.

 

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