by Carly Carson
Logan almost groaned. He could so easily imagine her saying those words in a different context. His body canted toward her as he fed her another bite.
This time her gaze locked with his. "Is cooking among your many talents?" she asked.
"My housekeeper does the cooking."
Amanda glanced around as if she expected a person to materialize beside them. "Does she live here?"
"She has her own condo in this building."
"Wow." Amanda took another sip of the dessert wine. "Nice digs for a housekeeper."
He smiled and said lightly, "She's worth it." She was an old family retainer, but he'd never told anyone in his new life that fact. The relationship he had with Mrs. MacDonald was something he could never discuss.
Amanda closed her lips over the next bite and chewed slowly. "I have to agree with your assessment," she said finally. "Your housekeeper is talented."
"Have another bite." He lifted his fork and she opened her mouth obediently. Between her parted lips, he could see her pink tongue.
Lord, she was killing him. All he could think about was something else he wanted to slide against her tongue. His hand trembled and a trickle of hot fudge slipped off the fork and onto her neck.
Quickly, he bent his head, and licked up the sweetness. Her delicate skin inflamed him. So soft. So yielding. He wanted to mark her, to use every part of his mouth, his lips, his teeth, to draw sensation to the surface, to arouse every one of her nerve endings.
Just for starters.
When he raised his head, her eyes were wide, staring at him.
He tried to smile. "Didn't want the chocolate to ruin your blouse."
"It's okay," she whispered. "It's an ugly blouse."
"In that case…" He dug into the dessert, lifted the fork again, and this time he deliberately dropped a dollop of fudge on her collarbone.
She inhaled a sharp breath. Her eyes glazed over. But she didn't stop him.
He licked slowly this time, allowing his tongue to wander up her neck, and his lips to press against her fragrant skin. He could feel her heart pounding.
"Why do you wear clothes you think are ugly?" he murmured.
She stiffened beneath his searching tongue. "So you won't find me attractive."
He was surprised into a chuckle. "You see how well that's working." He nipped her neck, then nipped it again. She trembled, and his cock, already as stiff as the knife, pressed against his zipper, seeking release.
"I don't think…" Her voice wandered off as he continued to kiss the curve of her neck.
"Try feeling instead of thinking." He raised his head, scooped up more warm sauce, and dribbled it directly into her cleavage.
She gasped, and her nipples pebbled. He could see them clearly through the white blouse.
He followed the sweet chocolate with his tongue. Down and down, deeper into her cleavage he delved. His fingers were already busy on the buttons of her blouse, although he expected a sharp reprimand at any moment. If he could get to her nipples, he'd be able to get her body working against her mind.
Buttons popped. "My blouse," she murmured. But her back was already arched and Logan knew she was losing the battle.
Her soft, round breasts pressed against his face on either side.
"I'll buy you a new blouse," he said. "A pretty one. One that shows off your beautiful breasts." He dropped the fork on the table and used his fingers to caress her, exulting in the heavy weight in his hands.
Triumph roared through him when Amanda moaned and threw back her head. He reached behind her blouse and opened her bra, certain that she didn't even notice as he continued licking each of her creamy breasts. With the bra loose, a feast was suddenly before him, and he took advantage. He licked up one slope, nosing aside the fabric that protected her no longer. When he reached his goal, he circled her pink nipple, around and around while the tight point poked his tongue.
She tasted so good. He sucked hard, a sudden flare of hunger almost causing him to lose control. Harder and harder. His entire body was clenched with the need to plunder her. He barely her her moans until she called out. "Logan!"
He released her at once. "Sorry," he muttered.
She mashed her breasts into his face. "The other side," she pleaded.
With a muffled laugh, he switched sides. There was nothing he loved more than sexual eagerness. Well, a climax was better. But, after an orgasm, he would have to withdraw completely, and be alone. So until then, he loved foreplay and the sights and sounds of a well-aroused woman.
"I want to try something," he said, his voice pitched low, to be soothing. He scooped up a dollop of ice cream. Before she could wonder what he intended, he spilled the cold ice cream onto one nipple.
She jerked in surprise. "Logan!"
He latched onto her breast, licked the ice cream off, and then sucked her nipple into his mouth.
She moaned again.
"You taste so good," he murmured. He gave her other nipple the same treatment.
She grabbed the hair on his head. "What are you doing?"
He glanced up to see her eyes closed, and her head thrown back against the chair.
"I'm enjoying my dessert," he said. "And I intend to finish every bite."
He scooped up another dollop of ice cream.
Amanda heard his deep voice talking, but she barely comprehended the words. Her body was in the throes of a pleasure that was overwhelming her ability to think. She couldn't be sitting here, with her breasts outthrust while Logan played with them.
Her boss.
She started to straighten up from her leaning position. "Logan—"
But he seemed not to hear her warning, or to see anything amiss. He continued eating his dessert off her.
The cold of the ice cream contrasted with the warmth of his mouth, and the sensations were heightened by the naughtiness of what he was doing.
Cold, then hot.
The impersonal touch of the ice cream, followed by the deeply personal touch of his mouth. His lips. His tongue.
He played with one nipple, and then the other. Each time he dropped another spot of ice cream on her, he increased the suction he used to clean it off. First his tongue would swirl all around her nipple, then his mouth would close over it and he'd suck. Gently at first, and then with increasing pressure.
Until he was pulling her already peaked nipple into a stinging point.
She moaned as her body drew tighter and tighter. Her legs wanted to spread wide open, and her hands clutched his head, as if he might be her salvation, rather than her ruin. Her own head swam with both pleasure and a slight dizziness. A small voice in her brain tried to speak up and issue a warning, but every time the tiny voice intruded, another wave of delight swamped it.
She told herself she was safe. Logan was only playing with her breasts while enjoying his dessert. They were still seated at the dining room table. He was still fully dressed.
By the time Logan put his spoon down in the empty bowl, the clink against the china barely registered. She was tense with desire, overcome with the sensations he'd skillfully aroused in her body. She refused to think about sex, but she was needy and clingy and as empty as the bowl.
She opened her eyes to see Logan rise to his feet. Alarm barreled through her. Was he done with her? Would he make another of his abrupt departures? She glanced up at him, barely aware of what she was doing.
"That's quite an effective look of appeal," he said, his voice low. "I think I'm flattered."
She tried to clear her thoughts. "I should be going home, I think."
He chuckled. "Your words lack a certain note of conviction."
"Are you done with dessert?"
"The ice cream is all gone, I'm afraid." He bent over and scooped her up in his arms. "But licking is still on the menu."
Her head swam as he turned her and laid her on the dining room table. Her feet dangled over the edge, unbalancing her, until he grasped her thighs and moved them apart. The move stabilized her,
but also increased her vulnerability.
Logan lifted her skirt and she stiffened in alarm. But he immediately trailed his hands down her legs until he reached her feet. He removed her shoes, dropping them to the Oriental carpet. He cupped her feet in his big hands.
He began massaging her—feet? Surprise skittered through her. She knew she was laid out on his dining room table, her breasts exposed, her skirt hiked up.
But her panties still covered her, and he seemed interested only in her feet. No man had ever made such a surprising move.
She relaxed, as much as she could when her body was still drawn tight with an unfulfilled need. But the foot massage was heavenly.
She let her legs fall open a bit more. Or had he widened the gap between her feet?
No matter. He wasn't doing anything alarming. Yes, he'd played with her breasts. But the pleasure had been irresistible. The foot massage was almost equally as delicious.
His hands massaged her soles while he pressed a kiss to one knee, and then the other. Had he nudged her legs further apart again?
She murmured what might have been a small protest.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll never do anything you don't want."
That was true. She relaxed a bit more as she remembered all the times he'd left her, when she'd thought he might make a pass at her.
The only niggle of worry that wormed its way through her pleasure was the fear that he'd stop too soon. She wasn't ready quite yet to halt this pleasure.
She would stop him at some point.
She had to.
But not yet.
His strong fingers moved up to her toes and he began massaging each one individually, starting with her smallest toe. Oooh, that felt good. Every so often, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her legs. She scarcely noticed when the kiss landed on her thighs. It was just part of his pattern.
By the time he finished with her foot massage, her toes were curling in delight, a sensation she'd never experienced.
He raised his head and looked up at her. "You look so wanton," he said. "Quite delightful." A flush rode high on his cheeks.
"Are we done?"
"Not yet." His lips curved slowly. "I have one more thing I want to do." He placed his hands on her hips, paused for an infinitesimal moment, and then slowly peeled her underpants down her legs.
One more thing? Then would he stop? Amanda didn't move, even as she silently begged him to touch her body again. He still had all his clothes on. It didn't seem he had any intention of removing them. She was still safe.
"Yes," he said, "that's better."
Amanda opened her eyes to see him staring at her.
"Mandy," he said on a long breath. "You have no idea what you do to me." He placed one strong hand at the top of each of her thighs, and slowly pushed her open.
"Logan," she gasped. She was totally exposed to him and the sensation of being on display jolted her with excitement. She had to stop him now.
He lowered his head and kissed her right at the opening between her legs.
Then he licked her.
She whimpered, as her brain moved in the same dizzying circles as his tongue. Except that her brain was trying to tell her one thing, and the spot between her legs was clinging to something else entirely— the joy he was giving her.
Her entire body buzzed with pleasure from that one spot of contact. Then his fingers entered her, strong and sure. First one, testing her, exploring. Then, another, filling her, pushing upward and stroking in and out. Once. Twice. Three times.
She convulsed.
Over and over.
Until she finally sighed out his name and grasped his head to stop him, or to have something to hold onto. She feared she might pass out.
He raised his head, his gaze meeting hers. She shifted her eyes away as the buzzing in her head continued to distract her. How had this happened? What had she been thinking?
Logan stood up and pressed himself between her thighs. The wool of his pants was soft, but beneath them was a hardness that pulsed with urgency.
Amanda lifted one hand. "Help me sit up." When she was vertical, she put her hands on his waist and leaned into him. His hard heat pressed into her nakedness. She sighed with contentment, and then was betrayed into a giggle. If Rosie could only see her now—
He frowned. "Are you drunk?"
Her eyes flew open. "Of course not."
"We have to stop now if you are." But he didn't move away.
"What? You're developing a conscience?" Starched cotton slid over her hands as her fingers drifted inside the buttons of his shirt and she touched his hot skin.
"I always have a conscience." He sucked in a sharp breath. "Though it's receding quickly right now."
She moved down his smooth, muscular abs until she reached rough hair that fanned outward.
Logan's harsh breathing kicked up a notch.
She jerked her hands out from under his shirt, but couldn't resist arrowing her thumbs downward, along the side of his zipper. His wool pants were soft, dense. His erection poked up and out at her.
"You don't want me to stop, do you?" she asked.
"God, no." He closed his eyes and murmured, "I can't help noticing you're not behaving in character here."
"You don't really know me, I don't think." She'd wanted him from the first moment she stepped into his office and saw him sitting behind his desk, calm, powerful, intense. His mere presence had called out to something deep inside her. She'd never expected to do anything about her attraction, but now that she was here in his home, just the two of them, some barrier within her had crumbled away. The values and morals she'd thought were strong and impenetrable had turned out to be as fleeting as bubbles in champagne.
Passion was a much stronger force than she'd ever imagined. Sitting here on the edge of his table, trembling in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm, she still wanted more.
Logan snapped his eyes open and their gazes collided.
"I'd like to know you better," he said.
She stared into his face as she heard the sound of a zipper. She was aware of the condom being opened. She was incapable of stopping him, when all she wanted was to be as close as possible with him, to combine their bodies in a heated bliss that would never end.
Then she felt the pressure, the smooth, heated strength invading her. He pushed her thighs wider, and his fingers began to stroke her. He was surprisingly gentle.
She lifted her hips.
"Finally," he said in a guttural voice as he surged into her.
And Amanda knew she'd made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 17
Logan watched Amanda as he began to pump into her. A spasm had crossed her face right when he entered her, and he'd wondered if maybe he was hurting her, but then she'd grabbed his arms and clung to him as he angled his thrusts, looking for the sweet spot. Her eyes glazed over when he found it, and he settled in to ride it out.
But it didn't take long, mere seconds, before she came again, clutching him so that he barely held on until she finished. He allowed himself to follow immediately. The sharp burst of rapture consumed him so that he barely heard the dishes clanking together as he pounded her against the table. Something hit the floor, but he only cared about pushing further into her wet warmth, sheathing himself in her yielding, female body.
It had been too long for him and the pleasure reverberated throughout him, from his head to his toes. He consumed, and was consumed. His body thundered and it trembled.
He watched Amanda, watched the expressions on her face. Male pride thundered through him. He'd done that to her. He'd pounded her into that ecstasy.
But something else whispered a more seductive song in his brain. She was so enchanting. Her hair fanned out on the tablecloth, the silken strands curved like notes of a sweet song. A wash of emotion threatened to spill over him. He pushed it back.
He dropped a kiss to her lips, but it wasn't enough, and he knew it.
She deserved better.
>
He was no good for her. He was a cold bastard who couldn't, and didn't want to, give her what she deserved. He'd take whatever she freely gave. He'd even come back for more.
But, in the end, he'd leave.
On that thought, he pulled out.
"Wait a sec," he said, pulling up his pants and heading for the kitchen to dispose of the condom.
When he returned, she was standing by the table. She'd emptied the half-glass of dessert wine he'd poured for her earlier. He was glad he'd been careful about the wine. He wanted her again, and the look on her face said she was having second thoughts. At least he didn't have to worry that alcohol was clouding her brain.
He walked over and wrapped his arms around her. "You are incredibly sexy," he murmured into her ear.
"We made a big mistake," she whispered.
"It's done now. Don't look back." He pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck. "Come on." He licked her. "We tried hard and fast. Let's try slow and easy."
She shivered. "Logan—"
"This is not something that calls for your crackerjack analytical skills." He swept her up into his arms. Her still-unbuttoned blouse fell open, and his heart almost stopped. She had the best tits he'd ever seen, and he'd seen some good ones.
"Mandy." He raised her, and buried his face between those soft curves. "Come with me."
She pressed her lips against his neck. He heard himself groan. Her teeth grazed his skin, here and there, little nips that marked him somewhere deep inside.
Since she didn't answer, he began walking. He hadn't had near enough of her. Unless she gave any indication she wanted him to stop, he intended to keep her in his bed all night long.
When they reached his room, he dropped her lightly on the king-sized bed, and began to take off his shirt. She watched him, a slight frown creasing her forehead, her eyes uncertain. He knew this was a critical moment, when she would decide whether to stay or go. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers.
Her gaze swept over him. He stood there and let her look. It was her decision. But he didn't mind doing whatever he could to entice her.
He touched her wrist. "I want to undress you."
She shivered. "Why do you have to be so hot?"