Blogger Bundle Volume VIII: SBTB's Harlequins That Hooked You

by Jennifer Crusie

  “Unh,” he said, as she swept her tongue fiercely into his mouth. And then his hands were in her hair, on her throat, on her breasts. He was touching her everywhere, as if he wanted to feel all of her at once and didn’t know where to start. But then his hands slid down her back to her derriere, pressing her hips tightly against him, holding her in place as he slanted his head and kissed her even harder.

  She opened her legs, taking advantage of the slit up the side of her dress, and she rubbed the inside of her thigh against his. His hand caught her leg, and he pressed her still closer to him.

  Joe’s mouth slid down to her neck as his hand cupped her breast. The roughness of his callused fingers rasped against the silk as he stroked the hard bud of her nipple.

  “Oh, man,” Joe breathed between kisses, as he slipped his hand under the fabric of her top, and touched her, really touched her, with nothing between his fingers and her flesh. “For how many days have I been dying to touch you like this?”

  Veronica’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of his jacket. “Probably the same number of days I’ve been dying for you to touch me like that.”

  He lifted his head, looking into her eyes. “Really?” His gaze was so intense, so serious. “Maybe it was love at first sight, huh?”

  Veronica felt her own smile fade as her pulse kicked into overtime. “Love?” she whispered, hardly daring to hope that this incredible man could possibly love her, too.

  Joe looked away, down at his hand still cupping her breast. “Love…lust… Whatever.” He shrugged and kissed her again.

  Veronica tried to hide her disappointment. Whatever. Well, all right. “Whatever” was better than not being desired. “Whatever” was what she’d been expecting—what he’d told her to expect from him right from the start.

  But she didn’t want to think about that now. She didn’t want to think about anything but the way he was making her feel as he kissed and caressed her.

  Joe pulled back then, and looked into her eyes. Slowly he slid the dress’s narrow strap off her right shoulder. As it fell away, the silk covering her breast fell away, too.

  And still he gazed into her eyes.

  Veronica felt the coolness of the air as it touched her skin. And then she felt Joe, as he lightly ran one finger across the tip of her breast. She felt her body tighten, felt her nipples grow more taut, even more fully aroused.

  He held her gaze longer than she would have believed possible before his eyes dropped down to caress the bareness of her breast.

  “God,” he breathed, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. “You’re so beautiful.”

  They were frozen in place as if time had somehow stopped. But time hadn’t stopped. Her heart was still beating, and with every beat, every surge of blood through her veins, Veronica wanted him even more.

  But still he didn’t touch her; at least, no more than another of those light-as-a-feather brushes with one finger. And she wanted him to touch her. She wanted him, so very badly, to touch her.

  “If you don’t touch me, I’m going to scream,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  Joe’s smile turned hot. “Is that a threat or a promise?” he asked.

  “Both,” she said, lost in the heat of his eyes. She was begging now. “Touch me.”

  “Where?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “How?”

  “My breast, your mouth,” she said. “Now. Please.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He brought his mouth to her breast and swept his tongue across her sensitive nipple. Veronica cried out, and he drew her into his mouth, pulling hard.

  She reached for him, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. The buttons on his shirt were so tiny, so difficult to unfasten. But she wanted his shirt off. She wanted to run her hands against all those incredible muscles in his chest and shoulders and arms. She wanted to feel the satiny smoothness of his skin beneath her fingers.

  She could hear her voice moaning her pleasure as Joe suckled and kissed her again and again.

  But then he lifted his head and, stopping only to kiss her deeply on the mouth, he gazed into her eyes again. “What else do you want?” he demanded. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want this bloody shirt off you,” she said, still worrying the buttons.

  He reached up with both hands and pulled. Buttons flew everywhere, but the shirt was open. He yanked it off his arms.

  Veronica touched his smooth, tanned muscles with the palms of her hands, closing her eyes at the sensation, running her fingers through the curly dark hair on his chest. Oh, yes. He was so beautiful, so solid.

  “Tell me what you want,” Joe said again. “Come on, Ronnie, tell me where you want me to touch you.”

  She opened her eyes. “I want you to touch every single inch of me with every single inch of you. I want you and me on that bed in the other room. I want to feel you between my legs, Joe—”

  Joe picked her up. He simply swept her effortlessly into his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

  Veronica had her hands on the button of his pants before he yanked back the bedcover and laid her on the clean white sheets.

  As she unfastened his sash, he found the zipper in the back of her dress. As he peeled her dress down toward her hips, she unzipped his pants and pushed them over his incredible rear end.

  Her dress landed with a hiss of silk on the carpet and Joe pulled back, nearly burning her with his eyes as he took her in, lying propped up on her elbows on the bed, wearing only her black lace panties and a pair of thigh-high stockings. Lord, when he looked at her like that, with that fire in his eyes, she felt like the sexiest woman in the world.

  She sat up, taking the last of the pins from her hair.

  Slowly, he pushed off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers, still watching her.

  Veronica was watching him, too. She rolled first one and then the other stocking from her legs as she let herself look at Joe. He was wearing only a pair of white briefs. She’d seen him in running shorts before, shorts that were nearly as brief, that exposed almost as much of his magnificent body. But this time she really let herself look.

  His shoulders were broad and solid as rock. His arms were powerful and so very big. She couldn’t have even begun to span his biceps with both of her hands, although she wanted rather desperately to try. His chest was wide and covered with thick dark hair. His muscles were clearly defined, and they rippled sensually when he so much as breathed. His stomach was a washboard of ridges and valleys, his hips narrow, his legs as strong as steel.

  Yes, when she’d seen him run, although she’d tried not to look, she’d managed to memorize his body in amazing, precise detail, down to the scars on his shoulder and left leg, and the anchor tattoo on his arm.

  But tonight there were some differences. She let her eyes linger on the enormous bulge straining the front of his briefs.

  Veronica looked up to find Joe watching her, a small smile playing across his lips.

  “Part of me wants to stand here and just look at you all night,” he said.

  She glanced down at his arousal, then smiled into his eyes. “Another part of you won’t be very happy if you do that.”

  “Damn straight,” he said with a laugh.

  “Do I really have to beg you to come over here?” Veronica asked.

  “No.”

  And then he was next to her on the bed and she was in his arms, and Lord, he was kissing her, touching her, running his hands across her body, filling her mouth with his tongue, tangling her legs with his.

  It was ecstasy. Veronica had never felt anything remotely like it before. It was the sweetest, purest, most powerful passion she had ever known.

  This was love, she thought. This incredible whirlwind of emotions and heightened sensations was love. It carried her higher, to an intellectual and emotional plane she’d never before imagined, and at the same time, it stripped her bare of every ounce of civility she had, leaving her ruled by ferocious passion, enslaved by the burning needs of
her body.

  She touched him, reaching down between their bodies to press the palm of her hand against his hardness, and when he cried out, she heard herself answer—the primitive call and response between a savage animal and his equally savage mate.

  His hands were everywhere and his mouth was everywhere else. His fingers dipped down inside the lace of her panties, and he moaned as he felt her wet heat.

  “Yes,” Veronica said. It was the only word she seemed able to form with her lips. “Yes.”

  She tugged at his briefs, pulling him free from their confines, moaning her pleasure at the sensation of him in her hands. He was silky smooth and so hard, and oh…

  He sat up, pulling away from her to slide her panties down and off. She sat up, too, following him, kneeling next to him on the bed, reaching for him, unwilling to let him go.

  Joe groaned. “Ronnie, baby, I got to get a condom on.”

  He turned to reach for his pants, now crumpled on the floor, but Veronica was faster. She opened the drawer of the bedside table and took out a small foil package—one of the condoms she’d bought just hours ago when she’d bought the dress. She’d put them in the drawer in hopes of using them precisely this way with precisely this man.

  “Whoa,” Joe said as she pressed it into his hand. He was surprised that she was prepared. “I guess it’s stupid not to be ready for anything these days, huh?”

  He was just holding the little package, looking at her.

  Good Lord, did he actually think she kept these things on hand all the time? Was he imagining a steady stream of male visitors to her room? Veronica took it from him and tore it open. “I bought it for you. For you and me,” she said, somehow finding her voice in her need to explain. “I was hoping we’d make love tonight.”

  She saw the understanding in his eyes. She’d bought it because she’d wanted to make love—to him.

  Veronica touched him, covering him with her fingers, gazing from that most intimate part of him, to the small ring of latex in her hand. “I’m not sure exactly how this is supposed to work,” she said. “It doesn’t really look as if it’s going to fit, does it?”

  She gazed into the heat of his eyes as he took the condom from her. “It’ll fit,” he said.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, her smile turning devilish. “Maybe I should have bought the extra-large Navy SEAL size.”

  Joe laughed as he quickly and rather expertly sheathed himself. “Flattery will get you everything.”

  Veronica encircled his neck with her arms, brushing the hard tips of her breasts against his solid chest and her soft stomach against his arousal. “I don’t want everything,” she breathed into his ear. “I think I already told you precisely what I want.”

  He kissed her—a long, sweet, slow, deep kiss that made her bones melt and her muscles feel like jelly. Still kissing her, he pulled her onto his lap, so that she was straddling his thighs. Then, taking her hips in his hands, he slowly, so slowly, lifted her up, above him.

  Veronica pulled back from Joe’s kiss, her eyes open. He began to lower her down, on top of him, and as the very tip of him parted her most intimately, he opened his own eyes, meeting her gaze.

  Slowly, impossibly slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, he lowered her onto him, staring all the while into her eyes.

  The muscles in his powerful arms were taut, but the sweat on his upper lip wasn’t from physical exertion. He lifted her slowly back up, off him, and then brought her down again, so that he was barely inside her, setting a deliberate and leisurely teasing rhythm.

  Veronica moaned. She wanted more. She wanted all of him. She tried to shift her weight, to bring herself down more fully on top of him, but his strong arms held her firmly in place. Her moan changed to a cry of pleasure as his mouth latched on to her breast, but still he didn’t release her hips.

  “Please,” she cried, the words ripped from her throat. “Joe, please! I want more!”

  He covered her mouth with his, kissing her fiercely as he arched his body up and pushed her hips down and filled her completely, absolutely, incredibly.

  The sound she heard herself make was almost inhuman as he plunged into her, filling her again and again and again. The rhythm was frantic, feverish, and Veronica threw back her head, delirious from the sweet sensations exploding inside her as she found her release. Arrows of pleasure shot through her—straight to her heart.

  Joe’s fingers stabbed through her hair as he called out her name and she clung to his neck and shoulders. She rode his explosive release, letting his passion carry her higher, even higher, loving the way he held her as if he were never going to let her go.

  And then it was over. Joe sank back on the bed, pulling her down along with him.

  Veronica could feel his heart beating, hear him breathing, feel his arms still tightly around her. She waited, hoping he would be the first to speak.

  But he didn’t speak. The silence stretched on and on and on, and through it, Veronica died a thousand times. He was regretting their lovemaking. He was trying to figure out a way to get out of her room with the least amount of embarrassment. He was worrying about the rest of the tour, wondering if she was going to chase after him like a lovesick fool and…

  He sighed. And stretched. And nuzzled the side of her face. Veronica turned toward him and he met her lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

  “When can we do this again?” he asked, his voice husky in the quiet. He brushed her hair back so he could see her face.

  His eyes were half-closed, but she could see traces of the ever-present flame still burning.

  He didn’t regret what they’d just done. How could he, if he already wanted to know when they’d make love again? She smiled, suddenly feeling ridiculously, foolishly happy. His answering smile was sleepy, and very, very content.

  “You gonna answer my question?” he asked. His eyes opened slightly wider for a second. “Or is that smile my answer?”

  Veronica slowly trailed her fingers down his arm, watching as they followed the contours of his muscles. “Are you in any hurry to leave?” she asked.

  His arms tightened around her. “Nope.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah.”

  Veronica glanced up at him and saw he was watching her. He smiled again, laughing softly as she met his eyes.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You really want to know?”

  She nodded, making a face at him. “Of course. You look at me and laugh. I should say I’d want to know what you were thinking.”

  “Well, I was thinking, who would’ve guessed that proper Ms. Veronica St. John is a real screamer in bed.”

  Veronica laughed, feeling her cheeks heat. “But I’m not,” she protested. “I mean, I don’t… I mean, I never have before…. Made all that…noise, I mean.”

  “I loved it,” Joe said. “And I love it even more, knowing that I’m the only one who makes you do it.” His words were teasing, but his eyes were serious. “It’s an incredible turn-on, baby.” His voice got lower, softer, more intense. “You’re an incredible turn-on.”

  “You’re embarrassing me,” she admitted, pressing her warm cheeks against his shoulder.

  “Perfect,” he replied, with his wonderful, husky laugh. “I also love it when you blush.”

  Veronica closed her eyes. He loved what she did, he loved when she blushed. What she would have given to hear him say that he loved her.

  “You know what would absolutely kill me?” Joe asked, his voice still low and very, very sexy.

  Oh, dear Lord, she could feel him growing inside her. She felt her body respond, felt her pulse start to quicken.

  “If you danced for me,” Joe said, answering his own question.

  Veronica closed her eyes, imagining the nuclear heat that would be generated in the room if she danced for Joe—and only for Joe. She could imagine discarding various articles of clothing until she moved in time to music clad only in the tiniest black panties and the fire from his eyes
….

  Veronica blushed again. Could she really dance for him that way? Without laughing or feeling foolish?

  Joe hugged her tighter. “No pressure,” he said quietly. “I only want you to dance for me if you want to. It’s just a fantasy, that’s all. I thought I’d share it with you. No big deal. Two out of three’s not bad.”

  Veronica lifted her head. “Two out of three…?”

  “Fantasies that have come true,” Joe said. He smiled. “The first one was making love to you. The second one was making love to you twice in the same night.”

  “But…”

  Joe kissed her sweetly. Then he made his second fantasy come true.

  17

  Chicago, Dallas and Houston were a blur. During the day and sometimes in the evening, Veronica sat in the surveillance van, feeding information to Joe via his earphone, praying that the man she loved wasn’t about to be killed in front of her very eyes.

  Joe would look into the hidden, miniaturized video cameras and smile—a sweet, hot, secret smile meant only for her.

  At night, Joe came to her room. How he got out from under the watchful eyes of the FInCOM agents, Veronica never knew. How he got into her room was also a mystery. She never heard him. She would just look up, and he’d be there, smiling at her, heat in his eyes.

  In Dallas, he came carrying barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, and a six-pack of beer. He was wearing jeans and T-shirt and an old baseball cap backward on his head. He wouldn’t tell her where he got the food and beer, but she had the feeling he’d climbed down the outside of the building to the street below and walked a few blocks over to a restaurant.

  They had a picnic on her living-room floor, and made love before they’d finished eating, right there on the rug in front of the sofa.

  He always stayed until dawn, holding her close. They sometimes talked all night, sometimes slept, always woke up to make love again. But as the sun began to rise, he would vanish.

  Then in Albuquerque, there was another “incident,” as Joe called them. Veronica sat in the van, her heart in her throat after one of the FInCOM agents thought he saw a man with a concealed weapon in the crowd outside the TV station where “Tedric” had been interviewed.