“For each piece, I’ll tell you a fact about me.”
“I get it.” His fingers bit into her wrists. “So we won’t be strangers when we make love?”
She nodded, proud of his prescience. “Exactly.”
“Deal but when I’m naked, I undress you.”
She tipped her head and wiggled her brows at him. “You’d like that?”
“Like?” He held his arms out to his sides as she sank her palms against his broad chest and smoothed his suit coat from his shoulders. “Lady, no such word exists for me where you’re concerned.”
“Passion,” she crooned as she undid the buttons of his shirt and tugged it from his trousers to land on the floor with his other clothes. “I might become addicted to your passion.”
“The tie, the coat, the shirt now are gone,” he said with a tight jaw. “Three facts, baby, before you move on.”
“I was born in Manhattan, lived there even for college, and hated Vegas. Oh, Gil….” She skimmed her palms up over his six-pack to his sculpted shoulder blades and down his long, corded, heavily veined arms. “Gil, you are a beautiful animal. All sinew and muscle. I’d say you are…um…a forty-two in the chest.” She tried to circle her fingers around the bulge of his triceps. “Maybe twenty inches here. You’d make a very hunky Othello, you know. Or a dashing Henry the Fifth.”
Tracing the arc of her cheekbones, he got a funny gleam in his eyes. “When you touch me, I feel more like the Incredible Hulk.”
She nestled her lips to the hollow of his throat and rubbed her nose against his fragrant skin. “Not you. You’re too fine a man for that. And I love the way you smell. The citrus. The way you dance. You. Everything about you.”
Shoving a leg between hers, he pushed her back to the wall and with two thumbs raised her chin. His cobalt eyes swam with dangerous lights. “You’d. Better. Hurry. Here.”
She chuckled, letting the satisfaction in her gaze tell him she was putty in his hands. “I’ve never known a man so interested in me.”
“Good.” And then he kissed her—like a man claims the woman he cannot live without, like a caveman needs a mate, like flowers crave sunshine. He broke away, dragging air into his lungs. “I’ll work to make sure you never know another man as desperate to have you.”
He kissed her again, his lips this time supple and coaxing, insistent and lingering, sweet then wild, demanding surrender until she felt her core swell to near exploding, until her thong soaked for the hundredth time tonight in need of him. Until she wanted only to undo his fly and have him high up inside her.
He groaned, then broke the kiss. She was dazed as he pushed away and took her hands to place them on his belt. With a flick of her fingers, she unhooked the buckle and slid it from his waist. Facts were the furthest things from her mind and so she told him a simple one. “I’m thirty-one.”
He placed her fingers on his waistband button. “And what’s your favorite song?”
Floating with this dreamy man so close, she let her head fall back so she could better admire his taut features. The hungry wolf, she mused and smiled. “Anything that I’m dancing to with you.”
He clamped his hand over hers and led her to undo the button. At once, his trousers hit the floor.
Susanna caught her breath, not daring to look down, not needing to in order to know that he was fully erect, and that even standing up, like in the pool, he would fit her. Precisely. Deeply. “Gil,” she sighed his name, her eyes closing, overcome with the need and the awe-inspiring power of his nearness.
Some part of her knew that he stepped out of his shoes and bent to remove his socks while she seemed suspended in air, lolling against the wall.
“My turn,” he announced.
Licking her lips, she wound her arms around his shoulders. “Kiss me again.”
She felt his chest heave with a small chuckle while he put his hands to the clasp of her necklace and slipped her earrings from her lobes.
“In a minute, I’m going to kiss you until you don’t know your name.”
“Oh. Make. My. Day,” she taunted him. “But first. Three facts for the jewelry.”
He tweaked her nose, then bent to place the items on the side table. When he came back to her, he settled her hips against his, so closely, so precisely that she moaned.
“I grew up along the border in South Texas. Went to school in New York City. At the University.”
When she opened her mouth in surprise, he gave her a winsome look. “Chance. Timing. Our chance, our time is now. Besides, did you go to NYU, too?”
She shook her head. “No. Parsons.”
He hugged her a little. “See? Not our time or place. Besides, I’m older than you.”
Feeling the rightness of this meeting with every passing moment, she grinned. “Not too much older.”
“Six years.” He brushed an index finger around the outline of her lips. “By the time you were a freshman, I was long gone.”
“Where did you go?” she asked, knowing she sounded forlorn, betting he had been as fascinating as a young man as he was an older one in his prime.
“London.” He put his lips to her forehead. “Ever been there?”
“No.”
“I’ll take you there,” he promised her. “But now, this second, I’m here....”
“Wanting me,” she whispered, complimented, thrilled, impatiently digging her fingers into his flesh.
“Wanting you,” he confirmed, his gaze dropping to the corset even as his long, lean fingers picked up the ends of the laces and pulled the bow loose. Then, with shaking hands, he hooked two fingers inside her lacings and left the front of the corset gaping. Seeing the edges of her nipples become visible above the dark silk, she felt her skin pebble, contract, and heat. He tugged once more and the corset fell completely away, sagging to her waist.
In ragged Spanish, he said something she knew spoke of molten need. He watched her for long, sultry seconds, drinking in the sight of her exposed breasts. At once, his fingers circled her waist, sought a zipper and found it, then yanked it down. Her skirt drooped, taking the whole garment down to catch on her hipbones. In one smooth whoosh, his hands pushed the silk to the floor and then the fiery satin of his skin met hers, from chest to belly, thighs to thighs. His cock was a blazing brand to her stomach and she moved, softly mewling her hunger for him. His fingers delved beneath the waistband of her thong while he demanded, “Look at me.”
Clinging to his arms as if she clung to a life raft in a hurricane, she could barely see him in the haze of her longing.
“You are going to remove my briefs and I’m going to tell you one fact more. Then I’ll take this scrap of material off you and you will tell me one thing about you. After that, the only sounds you’ll hear will be me loving you. The way this was meant to be.”
Hands trembling, she skimmed her palms over his hips and down to his waistband. In one determined move, she undressed him completely. Naked, he pressed against her and she swayed, her eyes taking in the incendiary hunger in his own eyes. “Tell me my fact,” she urged, empty, lost as she had always been before this moment and this man captured her desire.
“I teach the history of film at a college in Portland. Portland, Oregon.”
“Oh Gil, so close,” she gushed, choking on a laugh, thrilled he might be so near to her in her every day life, shoving aside the fear that she might want to invest emotion in him after tonight. That’s tomorrow’s problem to solve. “I’m a real pushover for you tall, dark, handsome movie types.”
Snorting, he slid her silk thong from her hips and she shimmied to let it fall to the floor. He stepped back, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her naked, in her heels, her scrap of blue silk, soaking wet as it was, around her ankles. With two lithe moves, she stepped out of her heels. Bending, he picked her up in his arms like she weighed nothing. As he strode past the suite’s living room and into the bedroom, he grinned at her and laid her down on the king size mattress. And in a voice vaguely reminiscen
t of a suave Cary Grant type, he asked her, “Tell me then, why didn’t any smart, tall, dark guy snap you up long ago?”
“I’ve only ever dated blond guys.”
Standing over her at the side of the bed, he ran one big hand down her naked, needy body from throat to cleavage to tummy to pussy to cup her wet heat there. Two of his thick fingers slid along her seam, found her opening, and delved inside. His voice was rough, shaky as he asked, “Why do you think that is?”
Hearing the sound of her readiness for him, catching her bottom lip between her teeth and undulating to give him better access, she felt crazy longing in every nerve ending. “I was waiting for a perfect hero.”
At the compliment, he sucked in a breath and caught her gaze. “I make no claim to perfect, Susanna. But God, do I want to be your hero.”
Chapter Four
She reached up to pull him down to her, the sight of his tender expression, the feel of his rough satin skin on hers a ravishing fulfillment. Tangling her legs with his, she bound him close. His sensuous dark blue eyes caressed her own for a long second. Then his mouth captured hers.
His lips were sure and strong, mating with hers, melding with hers, demanding more and more of her. She groaned, arching up into his embrace, pleading with her body for his.
His tongue plunged inside her mouth, sweeping and exploring, while his big, heavy body crushed her into the plush mattress. One hand to the side of her throat, he kissed the line of her jaw. “Christ, you are everything I wanted.”
She swallowed hard on the lovely words, his meaning more precious to her than any she’d heard from other men. Why is that? she asked herself, but abandoned rational thought to tell him her own truth. “I asked Santa for a thrilling man. You’re so much more.”
Like a dark angel, Gil smiled slowly, then blessed her throat and her shoulder with his ravenous kisses. Up on one elbow, he cupped one of her big breasts and with a dexterous thumb, circled her nipple. Her body, ripe for anything this man had in mind, shivered in delight. His mouth came down and his lips surrounded the point, laved her and licked her. Then he caught her between his teeth to nip her and make her buck right up into his waiting arms.
“Susanna,” he murmured her name over and over as he nibbled his way to her other breast and her other starving, straining, hot nipple that he savored as lavishly as he had the first.
She drove her hands into his hair, spread her thighs, and felt him drop between them. His legs were long, furry, and hot. She whimpered, wanting, “More, more, everything.”
“I know, baby, I know.” His voice a rasp, a wreck.
She drove her hand down his torso to his cock. Sweet heaven, was he long and broad. She thumbed his crown, the pre-cum of his need thick and warm. “Oh, you are so happy to see me,” she husked using the Mae West line to please him.
He clamped a hand over her own and levered himself up to look down into her face. “I want this good for you. Slow and—”
“You don’t want to kill me here, do you, Santana?”
He blinked at her bossy tone. Then he broke into a grin. “No, ma’am.”
“Save slow and whatever for later, or I could die of neglect. And you wouldn’t want me unhappy.”
“I aim to please.”
She rubbed her thumb over the helmet of his very impressive cock and nestled it at the entrance to her hopelessly wet, throbbing core. “Aim right here.”
“Ah, darlin’,” he growled, giving her the first hint he might have a latent Texas drawl. Then he edged her fingers aside to trace her seam and sink inside her pussy. “I am gonna thrill us both ’til we can’t walk, but I need a condom. You know I do. So let me do this my way. Let me.” He punctuated his pleas with tiny kisses while his skillful fingers toyed with her drenched folds and pinched her swollen clit.
She shuddered in ecstasy, lying back, letting him play inside her. “Gil.” She called his name, oblivious to everything except her pulsing need for his cock inside her and his talent for making her tremble and want and beg.
“Mindless is the way I want you, honey,” he gruffed as he pinned her to the bed and slid down to lift her thighs around his shoulders. Then in the dim light, he looked at her for a long, tormenting time. “My redhead. My pretty, wet redhead. Love your landing strip, baby. You are so lovely here. Like the rest of you.”
Never had she been so thoroughly examined by a lover. Never had she really ever wanted to be. But never had she delighted in the raunchy high of it, nor found beauty in the look on a man’s face as he admired her pussy. Her fingers plucked at his shoulders. “Gil, I need you.”
But he ignored her beseeching, and instead parted her slick lips, finding the tender button of her clit and fastening his sweet mouth on her so that she burrowed her thrashing head into the pillows and keened like a well-loved cat.
“I knew you’d be gorgeous here.” He scooped his fingers inside her channel and withdrew. “I knew you’d be sweet and juicy.”
“Just for you,” she managed, then licked her lips as she watched him suck her cream from his fingertips.
“Want a taste?”
Eager, she nodded.
Grinning, he delved inside her pussy once more to gather another sample of her desire for him. “What do you think?”
She took his fingers into her mouth and rolled her tongue around them. “Delicious. Like you.”
His eyes narrowed in on her mouth as he withdrew his fingers, caught her against him and seized her lips in a ravening kiss.
She clamped her legs around him, then pressed at his chest. “Condom.” She fought for sanity and breath. “Now.”
He pushed away, but even as he went, he tormented her with kisses to her throat and one begging breast. “Condom,” he muttered and looked about the bedroom, a hand raking his hair as if he couldn’t remember quite where he’d put the damn things. Then he snapped his fingers and ordered her, “Go nowhere.”
“Like I’d go anywhere without you,” she mused as he rose and turned back for a second to grin at her.
“Got that right, babe.” Then he padded off to the bathroom and came back like his skin was on fire, holding up a string of five packets. “Got ’em.”
She grabbed his wrist as he tore one off. “I want to use all of them.”
He stared at her, her meaning dawning on him with salacious joy. “Your wish is my command.” Then, his gaze in hers, he unwrapped the foil and in a few flicks of his hand, had himself dressed for the party. He nestled close.
She opened her thighs, craving him now deep inside her.
Taking his cock in hand, he placed himself at the entrance to her core and drove ever so slowly inside her.
And God was he huge.
She caught her breath, her mind spinning away, her hands urging his hips closer and closer.
“Baby, you are so tight.”
“Mmmm. You are so big.”
He pulled out.
“No!” She gasped. “Don’t leave.”
“Never. Let me….” He eased inside her again, stretching her wide and making her undulate to grab more of him, all of him. Oh, geez. As much of him as she could take.
Scooping his hands under her ass, he lifted her and dropped more securely into her scorching flesh.
She arched upward, taking even more of his long, luscious cock, hearing how creamy she was for him. Then she did something she had long forgotten, but wanted to do for him now. She used the strong muscles of her cunt to hug him tightly to her and claim him as her own.
Panting, he dropped his forehead to her chest. “God, baby. You are talented.”
“You think?” she teased and caressed him again.
“Ugh!” He rocked into her, once, twice, and set up a rhythm that had her flowing with him, the tip of his massive cock hitting the top of her core and rubbing her G-spot, filling her up with so much man that she bared her teeth and let him take her. His friction, the way he seized her pussy, her mind filled her up with only the need to follow him up to a ledg
e and jump off. The throbbing fulfillment in her cunt spread to her legs, her arms, her heart, and she clutched him as she saw electric stars of raw sexual delight.
He slammed into her, eyes closed, rocking in his own release and falling over her, exhausted and replete.
The sound of them dragging in breaths filled the silent room. He nestled his lips against her throat. She skimmed her nails along the rigid power of his spine.
Rolling to his side, he let his cock slide out while he curled her close to him. “You are incomparable.”
She let out a laugh, then looked up at him. “Santa did a great job for me. I’m grateful I got a Santana in my stocking.”
He arched a brow. “Not just in your stocking.”
The two of them burst out laughing.
“And am I the luckiest girl at the North Pole.” She swept a hand out to denote the room, the hotel, and the cold Alaska night.
“I’ll take the tag for luckiest man in the world.”
“You are the sweetest man, that’s for sure,” she told him, ready to confess how much his company and his gentle loving meant to her. More than she had asked for. More than you wanted when you applied for this one-night stand. She opened her mouth to begin to tell him when a rap came at the door.
“That must be our dinner.” He dropped a quick kiss to her lips, rummaged in his closet to don the fluffy white hotel robe, and headed for the hallway door.
Saved by the bell.
Why say anything at all about not wanting more than a one-night affair? The whole concept of 1Night Stand was that the connection be temporary, the pairing compatible but not with any demands for future commitments.
It wouldn’t be fair not to tell him I can’t handle a love affair.
But isn’t that what this has become?
***
Gil signed the receipt and showed the waiter to the door. On the way past the bathroom, he rolled off his condom and put it in the trashcan, then headed back toward Susanna.
As he rounded the corner, he stopped, struck by the picture of the ravishing redhead with the svelte body and gossamer skin. Up on one elbow, she frowned down at the sheets. She was an artist’s study of a female, fresh from making love, her heavy breasts rosy from his kisses, her large nipples puckered, and the frothy hair of her pussy making his cock twitch with excitement. She was the most gorgeous woman, inside and out. Funny, endearing, smart and oh, by the way, thanks Madame Eve. The lady in question and I have another link in common. She’s in the entertainment industry.
Santa, Cutie Page 3