Command Performance
Page 4
He put the car in Park near a side entrance. She kept her gaze fixed on the red exit sign above the hotel door, her hands shifting in her lap. She interlaced her trembling fingers and then released them.
“Maggie?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’ll say good-night and let you drive home. Or we can go inside to the hotel bar and have another water. Your call.”
“No, I do.” Interlaced fingers drummed against opposite hands. “I want this.” I want you. Badly.
“Honey, your hands haven’t stopped moving since we got in the car.”
She released her grip and forced her fingers to lie still on her thighs.
“Nervous?” he asked gently.
“Yes.” Fingernails digging into her jeans, she turned to him. “I think I left out a few important questions back at the fairgrounds.”
He rested his arm on the center console and grinned. “I don’t have a favorite color, but I love homemade lasagna.”
“That’s great, but I need to know more.” The words tumbled forth as if she’d opened a floodgate, but she kept her eyes locked on her hands. “Like your medical history, and maybe a few references. And if you’re allergic to latex.”
He reached over and took her hand. His fingers wrapped around her palm and she felt the fear wane. She glanced up at him. If he was offended, she couldn’t tell from his gentle smile.
“Maggie, I won’t hurt you,” he said seriously. “You have my word. I have condoms with me and I plan to use them if you’re still interested. I swear on my father’s grave that I have a clean bill of health. I just spent four weeks in a VA hospital followed by two months of inpatient therapy. They ran every test in the book and I’m clean.”
“Why?”
“Gunshot.” It was his turn to look at the exit sign.
“Oh, God.” This was quickly becoming more complicated. Of all the men in the car show refreshment tent, she had to pick an injured Ranger. Depending on the extent of his injuries, the man sitting in the driver’s seat of her rental car might never return to active duty.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” she asked.
Hunter laughed and smiled at her with his oh-so-handsome eyes. “Honey, I’ve been up for this since I first saw you at the bar.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at his thighs and saw the telltale bulge. The heat she’d felt when he kissed her neck returned full force. I want that, she thought. Inside me, thrusting me over the cliff into orgasm territory. Her excitement returned, but this time it was laced with something else. Power. She was the reason his pants were tight, probably uncomfortably so. And that inkling of control eased some of her fears.
“But if you’ve changed your mind, I will say good-night and go up to my room.” He paused and she kept her gaze fixed on his lap. “I would much rather give you those orgasms you need.”
“I don’t want to leave.” She withdrew her hand from his. “I just...I don’t know where to start.”
“Maggie. Look at me.” She lifted her gaze. Their eyes met and Maggie forgot to breathe. She stared deeply into his brown eyes and she knew, just knew, she could trust this man—at least for tonight.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
She obeyed.
“Now, tell me what you want, what you desire. Anything.”
I want you to take charge. Tell me what to do. But she couldn’t say that. No one had ever asked her what she wanted before. How could she reveal her fantasies to a virtual stranger? “I...I don’t know.”
“I think you do.” He reclaimed her hand and traced soft circles with his thumb. She leaned closer. “What have you always wanted to do but never had the chance? I promise I won’t laugh and you won’t shock me.”
“I don’t know....” How to put my fantasies into words.
She heard a soft rustling and sensed him moving closer and then—lips. The soft, full lips that had tantalized her neck in the parking lot gently brushed the edge of her mouth. Capturing her lips with his, he kissed her slowly, as if he’d be content to stay here in her car all night. Just kissing.
But making out in the front seat didn’t come close to fulfilling her fantasies. That was something the supposedly passionless Maggie would do—the Maggie who’d never shared her desires with the man she planned to marry. And right now? Passion threatened to short-circuit her brain. She leaned into him, hoping he’d take the hint and give her more.
Hunter did not disappoint. As far as first kisses went, this one was more of a conversation. He licked her lips as if asking, Do you trust me? Maggie opened her mouth slightly. His tongue swept inside, deepening the kiss, demanding to know if she was ready for more. As if he could sense her yielding, he stole his mouth away from hers.
“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Or maybe there’s something you don’t want.”
“I don’t want to be in control.” The words slipped out. “I just want to be and feel. Just for a little while.”
He leaned in again and his lips touched her ear. “Lucky for you, I like to be the one calling the shots.”
His tongue licked her earlobe and she groaned. Had she really said those words out loud? Really asked a man, a virtual stranger who could make a woman’s panties wet with just one look, to take control in bed? What if he misunderstood? She didn’t want to have to think or ask for what she needed; she just wanted him to know. But was that even possible? And what if he took charge by tying her to the bed? She might have a panic attack if she couldn’t get up and leave.
But wasn’t it time she finally let herself go? Maybe a little panic was good. Her carefully organized life would still be waiting for her in the morning.
“Come upstairs with me.” It was a command, a gentle one, but she knew from his tone he’d taken over.
4
MAGGIE WATCHED HUNTER slip out of the car and walk around to open her door, offering his hand as he helped her out.
It was now or never. She could still turn back. But her body, her desire took over, and she placed her hand in his. Her gut told her this man could deliver. She was safe with him.
Following him through the side door and down the red-and-gold carpet to the elevator bank, Maggie pushed aside her doubts and fears. He was in control now—of her, her orgasms, everything. She could just let go.
He held the elevator door. “After you.”
She stepped inside. There was no turning back now. She bit her lip as desire pooled in her belly and rushed lower.
“Maggie.” He stepped toward her, pressing her against the mirrored back wall. “I’m going to kiss you now, and you’re going to let me.”
The door closed and his lips caught hers, a gentle brush, then hot and hard, his mouth devouring hers. This time he wasn’t asking permission, he was taking and blazing the trail for his body to follow. She felt his hips press against her, his hands wrapping around her waist, holding her in place. His mouth left her wanting and wet, and his insistent body had her flexing her hips, returning the pressure. If she had any lingering uncertainty, it fell away, discarded on the elevator floor. And if they didn’t get to his room soon, she feared her clothes would follow.
He pulled away slightly. “More, Maggie?”
She groaned and, leaning back against the mirrored wall, offered him access to her body. Touch me there, she thought. But she couldn’t say the words, not yet, not here. In the elevator.
“Someone might see us,” she mumbled.
“They might. Is that part of your fantasy?”
“No,” she managed, still mesmerized by his touch.
“Then we better get you to the bedroom.” His hand moved from her waist to the back of her thigh, leaving a trail of sensation. “Up you go.”
He guided her leg upward until it wrapped around his waist. Then he lowered his other hand to her butt and lifted her off the floor. His lips found hers and he ground into her, pressing his hard length between her thighs.
“Don’t drop me,” she said, drawing back to look at his face as he regained his balance and slipped his hand into his back pocket. His fingers brushed her calf in the process and Maggie squeezed her legs tighter. This man—he made her want and feel things she had thought out of her grasp. But here he was delivering them.
“We’re here.” Hunter smiled and slipped the card into the electronic reader.
He carried her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them before setting her on the bed.
“Take off your shirt,” he said, standing over her, his dreamy eyes watching her with a wicked glint. “I’ve been dying to see your breasts since you sat down at my table.”
Maggie had always been a rule follower, but occasionally she’d allowed for some creative interpretation. This was one of those times. Reaching for the bottom of her shirt, she ever so slowly began to lift. Inch by inch, she felt the cotton drift up over her belly.
Standing at the edge of the bed, Hunter stared, his eyes fixed on her hands, his chest rising and falling faster with each inch of skin she revealed. She watched his hands form tight fists at his sides.
“Higher,” he commanded, his tone raw and deep.
Loving how she affected him, she drew the fabric up and over her breasts, feeling the soft tickle as her shirt teased her erect nipples. Arching forward, she silently begged him to claim her. He didn’t move. Maggie pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples hardened further and her breasts ached to the point where if he didn’t touch her soon, she might need to take matters into her own hands—literally.
“In my fantasy, I wasn’t the only one undressed,” she said softly, not wanting to strip away his control, but needing to see what lay beneath his clothes.
“I’d hate to fall short,” he said, never taking his eyes off her chest.
“Impossible,” she murmured as he pulled his green polo over his head and tossed it to the floor.
Her jaw dropped as she drank in the sight. Biceps that begged to be squeezed, broad shoulders, perfectly defined pecs that tapered off to a narrow waist—she’d wanted muscles and, heaven help her, he delivered, with a body that would put most male underwear models to shame. Maggie dug her fingers into the bedding to keep her hands from reaching out and touching his six-pack abs.
Her gaze followed the dark hair from below his navel to where it disappeared beneath where the waistband of his jeans hugged his hips. More. She wanted to see more of him. But she couldn’t ask. She’d placed him in charge.
Forcing herself to look up, she saw the scarred flesh around his recent gunshot wound. It wasn’t the only marking on his otherwise perfect body. Unlike most underwear models, his torso featured a jagged four-, maybe five-inch scar on his right side. But that one looked old compared to his shoulder wound. Both were vivid reminders of who this man was. A battle-worn soldier. Who knew what type of damage he had on the inside?
But not even that sobering thought could dim the hum of desire pulsing through her.
“My turn,” he said, his low, lusty tone drawing her attention away from his recent injuries. “Your jeans, Maggie. Now.”
This time, Maggie didn’t waste any time. She slipped out of her heels and stripped off her jeans, pulling her underwear with them. Her hands moved swiftly, with confidence, and she reveled in the way her whole body hummed with anticipation. She sat at the edge of the bed, her feet resting on the soft carpet and her back stick-straight. Naked and waiting. She counted to ten. If he didn’t move by the time she reached the magic number, she was reclaiming control, to hell with her fantasies.
Seven, eight, nine—
Hunter closed the gap and knelt by the foot of the bed, pushing her legs wide. Exposing her to his view. Maggie leaned back on her elbows. She saw the tension in his strong arms, his hands resting on her thighs, preventing her from closing her knees. She expected to feel embarrassed as he studied the most intimate parts of her body, but instead she became more turned on by the second.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze moving up to settle on her breasts.
The slowness, the waiting, the needing was more than she could take. She’d never been this close to exploding without a man buried inside her. Maggie whimpered.
The corners of Hunter’s lips hitched up as he leaned forward and caught her breast in his mouth. He took his time, sucking and running his tongue over her nipple, while his hand massaged her other breast. Pleasure pulsed through her entire body.
“I could stay here all night,” he murmured. “With my face buried in your breasts.”
“No,” she groaned. “Please, I need more.”
He looked up at her, his eyes promising she’d get what she wanted. “I thought I was in charge,” he teased.
“You are,” she gasped as his thumbs traced small circles on her nipples. “Just please don’t stop.”
Pressing her breasts together with his hands, he lowered his mouth and licked her cleavage before kissing his way back to her right nipple. Maggie cried out and rocked closer to him, eager to slide off the edge of the bed if that’s what it took to get him inside of her.
“Easy, girl.” She felt his words against her stomach as his mouth moved lower.
Keep going.
“Lie back and you’ll get your orgasm.” His breath tickled the curls between her legs and she obeyed, allowing his hands to push her up the mattress until her core was in the perfect position.
But he didn’t kiss her there. Not yet. He took his time, running his hands up the insides of her thighs until his fingers grazed her outer folds. Maggie was aching now, pushing her body into his touch.
“Let me look,” he demanded.
“Please,” she begged, unable to find more words to ask for what she needed.
He found her most sensitive skin and she gasped, desperate now. Gently, tenderly, he teased her, running his thumb in small circles over her.
“You’re so ready,” he breathed. “And I thought I’d have to work to deliver your orgasms.”
The hot, low sound of his voice nearly undid her.
“Not yet,” he said, withdrawing his hand.
Maggie groaned. She’d been so close. To stop now—it was torture.
“Tell me where you like to be kissed.” His lips brushed her inner thigh. “Here?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “No. Higher.”
“Here?” His tongue licked a path up her leg, stopping just short of where she needed him.
Maggie shifted her hips restlessly, but he held her firm.
“How about here?” His mouth skimmed her outer lips.
“Close, so close,” she moaned.
He released her hip and used his hand to spread her wide. “Here?”
“Yes!” she screamed. His tongue licked her entrance, then up to the sensitive spot his fingers had toyed with moments earlier.
Closing her eyes, she lost herself to the feel of him exploring her, slowly at first, as if he wished to learn her body. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made the effort to find what worked for her. Derrick never had. And then she forgot all other men. There was only Hunter, his mouth and his devilish hands. She cried out, trying for the word “yes” but only managing a high-pitched sound.
“Do you like that?” His finger pressed against her, but stopped before slipping inside. She moaned, arching up into his mouth. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
His tongue swirled back and forth over her wet folds, pushing her further toward the edge. She was so clos
e. But what if it didn’t happen? What if he’d gotten her this far, but couldn’t get her over the edge? His mouth closed over her most sensitive flesh and she felt his finger slip inside her as he sucked mercilessly.
And then, she fell.
The orgasm that had been building since she’d first seen him at the bar swept over her. Bucking her hips against his mouth, she waited for him to pull back, for the pleasure to end. But he only moved his tongue faster, sliding it down to meet his fingers before gliding back up. She went higher, her whole body tingling with take-me-to-heaven bliss.
And when she finally came back down, he was still there with her, his hands touching her, his mouth worshipping her. Maggie pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked down at him. She tried to think of something to say, but “you can stop now” seemed just plain wrong and “amazing” just wasn’t enough. Instead, she reached down and touched his soft brown hair.
Hunter lifted his head, smiling, his eyes filled with heat. He rocked back and sat on his heels, watching her.
She drew her knees together, allowing her legs to fall to one side, the pressure of her inner thighs against each other sending delicious aftershocks through her body.
“One down,” he said, rising from his crouched position at the foot of the bed. “Are you ready for another?”
* * *
“THERE’S MORE,” SHE WHISPERED. It wasn’t a question. Simply a statement issued with wide-eyed wonder.
“We’re just getting started.”
Hunter watched her blue eyes scan his bare chest. Had a woman ever looked at him with such earnest amazement? He reached for the button on his jeans and Maggie followed the movement, her lips parted. Wanting to draw this out, he paused, admiring the view in front of him—blond hair tousled, breasts that he knew for a fact overflowed his hands, shapely legs turned to one side, offering a view of her round backside. He wanted her, every inch, but the sexy yet innocent look on her face? That drove him wild. He needed to be inside her.
Without taking his eyes off her, he knelt down and quickly removed his boots. He stripped off his jeans and reached for the elastic band on his boxer briefs. All the while Maggie watched him. He paused. Condom. He needed protection. Now. Once he took off his shorts, there was no turning back.