by Kristi Gold
Her respiration increased and her body tightened around his fingers as the first signs of orgasm overtook her. He wanted to replace his hand with his mouth, but she was already too far gone. Instead, he kissed her until every last ripple of the release subsided. Now he could join her in that state of oblivion.
He pushed away from her and stood at the side of the bed, fumbling for his zipper in harried anticipation.
“Mitch.” He looked up to see Tori seated on the edge of the mattress where he had been. “Come here,” she said, her voice much calmer now, as if she had regained her control where Mitch had done anything but.
He walked to her and watched as she lowered his fly, then did the same with his jeans and briefs. After he shrugged out of them completely, she held out her arms and, with only a look, invited him inside. But before he could join her, he still had something else to consider. Something he’d vowed not to forget again.
Pulling open the nightstand drawer, he withdrew a gold foil packet and held it up. “Should I use this?”
She failed to look at him as she tossed back the quilt and slid beneath the sheet. “I think that’s a good idea, just to be on the safe side.”
Her tone, her hesitant gaze, sent a sliver of apprehension up Mitch’s spine. Maybe the other night she hadn’t been honest with him. Maybe they had taken a huge risk. Yet as he studied her lying there in his bed, her skin flushed and her eyes wide, his desperate need for her outweighed any concerns over what might have been. He only wanted what could be. What would be.
After rolling on the condom, he snapped off the lamp and tossed back the sheet to take his place beside Tori. The three-quarter moon filtering in from the open curtains cast her face in muted light, her eyes as dark as the night.
Holding her face in his palms, he took another moment to just look at her. “I’ve wanted you non-stop since we were together in the truck. You’ve had me on a slow burn for four days. Every time I think about you, I get hard.”
“Hard is good.”
“Not when you’re riding a horse. When I saw you standing outside the arena today, talking to Buck, it was all I could do not to tell the boys to go away, toss you over my shoulder and take you to this bed.”
“And I might have let you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, even though my original goal was strictly friendship.”
His only goal at the moment was to please her. To make her feel so good she wouldn’t consider being anywhere else but his bed for the time they had left. “Tell me what you want, Tori. I’ll do anything you want me to do.”
With her hands on his hips, she encouraged him to move over her. “I want you inside of me. I want it deep. I want it hard.”
Nearing the point of madness, Mitch reached between them and guided himself inside her, pausing before he was completely immersed in her heat. “How deep?” he asked, inching in a little more.
“I want to feel all of you.”
He moved a little more. “How’s this?”
“Is that the best you can do?” Her voice was low and throaty, enticing as hell, driving Mitch to the brink.
With one hard thrust, he seated himself completely and nearly came undone in the process. “Better?” That one-word question took a lot of effort and so did his determination to hold on a little longer.
She slid her fingers through his hair and moved her hips beneath him. “The best.”
He wanted to be the best she’d ever had.
With all the strength he could muster, he reached over and grabbed the other pillow then pulled her up to prop it on top of the pillow already positioned beneath her shoulders. Then he lifted her bottom in his palms and drove into her.
Even if he’d wanted to slow it down, he couldn’t. Not with her welcoming this wild, unrestrained rhythm resulting from all the desire they’d held for each other from the moment they’d met. Not when she kissed him, her tongue meeting his in time with their thrusts and her nails raking down his back. Not when he felt the first contractions of her climax pulling him even deeper still.
His heart pounded against his chest as the pressure built and built, then exploded, fast and furious. He rode the waves with Tori in his arms, his face buried in the softness of her neck, his body jolted from the intensity of the climax.
In the aftermath, they were now covered in sweat, surrounded by the heady scent of sex and finally calmed by the long-awaited satisfaction. Or at least Tori seemed calm. Now Mitch was the one who was shaking.
Tori lifted his head in her hands and stared at him. “Are you okay?”
“If I were any better, I’d be dead.” He rolled to his side, taking her with him. “I don’t want you to leave.”
The words jumped out before he’d even had time to register exactly what he was saying.
“I wouldn’t want Buck to know I’m in your bed,” she said, obviously misunderstanding his meaning. He thought it best not to enlighten her, at least not until he analyzed why he hated the thought of her returning home. Right now, he had to keep her beside him all night.
He kissed her softly and rubbed her shoulder. “Buck might not be in until morning. And even if he’s here right now, he doesn’t know where you are. Stay with me tonight. All night.”
She settled her cheek against his chest. “Okay. I’ll stay tonight.”
That promise seemed inadequate to Mitch because he wanted more than tonight with her. He recognized some sort of transformation was occurring inside him. He damn sure didn’t know what to do about that, or why Tori Barnett was making him feel things he’d never felt, never wanted to feel.
But he did know that as long as he had this lady in his arms, he was going to enjoy it. Tomorrow, he’d think about the rest.
Two hours later, Tori sat in the small chair positioned in front of the picture window in Mitch’s bedroom, hugging her legs to her chest as she stared into the night. She wore his discarded shirt, the only thing she could locate in the darkened room. The fabric held the trace scent of his cologne, and so did her body.
The moon looked hazy, but then that might have to do with her unexpected tears. She could chalk up the irrational emotions to hormones. Or she could go ahead and admit that her current state resulted from the realization that she was falling in love with Mitch Warner.
She had never intended to do such an inadvisable thing, but her mind had been a giant jumble since the first time she’d danced with him. So had her heart.
She recalled when he had graced the pages of tabloids and teen magazines, an enigmatic young man who’d captured nationwide attention with his looks alone. He’d been born into wealth and a political legacy, a favorite pick to fashion the nation’s future—smart, handsome and eligible.
At that particular time, Tori’s interest in Mitch had been limited to the news coverage, due to her first thoughts of becoming a journalist, not desire for him or his kind—a typical, spoiled rich kid who’d had the world handed to him while she’d had to struggle for everything she’d obtained. She also remembered viewing one photo immediately after he’d been accepted to Harvard and another when he’d been caught on film escorting a beautiful co-ed to a college formal. But she’d never really seen him smile. She’d believed him to be arrogant, that he’d thought himself above showing any true emotion.
Now she recognized that she’d seen sadness in those magnetic blue eyes, not snobbery or self-absorption. And if all those women who’d fantasized about him really knew the man beneath the façade, as Tori now did, they would have worshipped him even more.
Still, she and Mitch hailed from different societal positions. They had very different aspirations. She longed for a successful career and recognition for her efforts. He yearned for obscurity and a normal life.
And she was beginning to feel guilty that in some ways she had been using him to attain that success and security. But she had to rationalize that she could assist him in maintaining his privacy by stressing that he wanted to be left alone. They both would win
in the end.
Except Tori would suffer a loss in exchange for that success when she left him behind.
For that reason, she needed to start viewing this liaison exactly as it was—nothing more than a brief affair between two consenting adults. She needed to shore up her emotions, beginning now.
Standing, she turned and took one last look at Mitch. He slept on his side facing the window, the sheet draped carelessly over his hips, exposing only the tops of his thighs and the flat plane of his belly, his arms tucked beneath the pillow, his eyes closed against the limited light of the moon and Tori’s scrutiny.
She wanted desperately to climb back beneath the covers and mold herself to his strong back. She wanted to wake him one more time and fuel the fire between them with a few touches. Instead, she bypassed the bed and headed out the door, leaving her discarded clothes, and Mitch, behind.
Tori needed time to think and assess. She needed to sleep. She couldn’t do either with him so close.
Tomorrow, she would continue the interview process. If more intimacy occurred between them, she would strive to keep her feelings out of it. She would take what he had to offer, engage in a little self-discovery and enjoy their remaining time together without inhibition.
A solid plan. A good plan. Now she just had to stick to it.
Eight
Mitch had hated waking at dawn to find Tori gone. He’d had every intention of making love to her again before they started their day. At breakfast, he’d planned to confront her over the disappearing act but she hadn’t shown up. When he’d gone to her room to seek her out, he’d found her bed made and the place totally deserted. As irrational as it seemed, he’d worried she’d taken the first plane back to Dallas after last night. It wasn’t until Bob had told him Tori was up at the old house with Stella that he’d allowed himself to relax—as much as a man with an illogical need for a woman could relax.
After he accomplished something constructive, Mitch planned to let her know that he wanted her in his bed until she left on Sunday, no argument. If she appeared reluctant, he’d just have to find a way to convince her, and he could think of a lot of ways.
That brought about a smile as he sat at his desk, checking the status of pending software shipments. He wasn’t having a whole lot of luck concentrating on his business when the business of making love to Tori was still so fresh on his mind. His concentration went completely by the wayside when the knock came at the door followed by, “Mitch, can I come in?”
“Door’s open,” he replied as he braced himself for the impact of seeing Tori again, as if he could prepare. Just hearing her voice had him on edge.
Tori entered the room dressed in a navy blazer and a skirt that hit just above her knees, revealing her legs and a pair of matching moderate high heels. Her straight brown hair flowed over her shoulders, stopping where the collar formed a V above her breasts. The suit was business conservative, tasteful, but to Mitch, she might as well have been wearing nothing at all, considering the impact on his libido.
Mitch leaned back in his chair. “Where have you been?”
She hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Actually, I’ve been talking to some of the hands. I wanted to ask them a few questions.”
“And you did it dressed like that?” His tone sounded gruff and jealous. He’d be damned if he wasn’t.
Tori smoothed a hand down the skirt. “They didn’t seem to mind.”
“I’m sure they didn’t mind at all. In fact, you probably made their day, showing up in that outfit.”
“I meant they didn’t seem to notice.”
Mitch tented his fingers beneath his chin. “I never pegged you as being that naïve, Tori. They’re men. They noticed. Especially Rand. He might seem like the quiet type, but you have to be careful around him.”
As if bent on ignoring him, she slid the black bag off her shoulder and set it down on the sofa then pulled out a yellow notepad. “I have some interesting comments here. The overall opinion is you’re fair and generous. One man said that he, and I quote, ‘considers you a good friend, second only to his bluetick hound.’ The only real criticism came when Rand said you’re not always pleasant if you haven’t had your coffee. Have you had your coffee today, Mitch?”
“Are you saying I’m not pleasant enough for you?”
“You are a little testy.” She went back to the notes. “However, I am happy to report that the general consensus is that you’re a generous employer and a good man.”
When she swept her hair away from her shoulder and smiled, Mitch had the strongest urge to show her exactly how good he could be. “I still don’t understand why it was necessary to get all dressed up to talk to the help.”
“I’m dressed up because I plan to go into town with Stella. She wants to shop for some fabric for the nursery curtains. While I’m there, I’ll interview a few people to give the story some local color. In order to do that, I need to appear professional.”
Did she have to look so sexy doing it? “Fine. I’m sure they won’t tell you all that much.”
“I’ll take my chances, but first.…” Rifling in the bag, she exchanged the pad for a camera and waved it at him. “Picture time. I want to show you in your element. The cowboy working at the computer.” She lifted the camera and said, “Smile.”
Mitch didn’t feel like smiling. The only thing he wanted to do right now was make her smile, utilizing his hands and mouth. To appease her, he sent her a halfway grin. She seemed satisfied and snapped the camera, nearly blinding Mitch with the flash.
“Great,” she said. “One more.”
She didn’t wait for a smile or for Mitch’s vision to return before she took two more shots.
“Enough,” Mitch said. “I can’t see a thing.” That wouldn’t do at all since he didn’t want to miss a minute of seeing her, especially in that suit.
“Sorry,” she said. “That’s enough for now.”
Not by a long shot, Mitch decided. He moved from behind his desk and held out his hand. “Give it here. I want to take a couple of pictures of you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I want a souvenir.”
She laid a dramatic hand above her breasts. “Well, if I must. Where do you want me?”
He grinned. “Honestly?”
She frowned. “For the picture, Mitch.”
Stepping aside, he gestured toward his desk. “Sit there.”
“You want me on the desk?”
Oh, yeah. That was a fine idea. “We could do it on the sofa, but I think the desk adds a unique perspective.”
“If you say so.” Finally she complied, hoisting herself up with her palms, her legs dangling and her hands folded primly in her lap.
Mitch didn’t want prim and proper. “Cross your legs and pull the hem of your skirt up a little. Show me some leg.”
She complied and leaned back on her palms, then topped off the pose with a coy look. “How’s this?”
Pretty damn good, but he wanted to see a little more skin. If he had to settle for a picture as a replacement after she left, he wanted a good one. “Unbutton the top button on your jacket.”
“Mitch—”
“Just do it, Tori. You might actually enjoy it.” He sure was, and he’d only just begun.
Tori got the button undone after a couple of attempts. Mitch suspected she was nervous, but he also wondered if maybe she was a little turned on by it all. He planned to find that out, real soon. Stepping back, he snapped a picture then narrowed his eyes. “Open your jacket up a little.”
“If I do that, you’ll be able to see my bra.”
“I know.”
She drew in a shaky breath and released it slowly. “Why, Mitch Warner, I didn’t know you were serious about taking naughty pictures.”
“Sexy pictures, Tori. Just a little suggestive.”
“Oh, so you want suggestive, do you?” she said, challenge in her tone and her dark eyes.
She released every last one of the jacket buttons and
opened it completely, exposing her navy satin bra and shocking the hell out of Mitch in the process. She shook her head, mussing her hair so that it now looked as untamed as Mitch felt. And when she inched her skirt up to the tops of her thighs, he reclaimed enough coherency to back up and lock the door.
“Is this suggestive enough?” she asked when he stepped forward.
“Oh, yeah. That looks real good.”
When he continued to stand there, greatly enjoying the sight, Tori asked, “Are you going to take the picture?”
He didn’t want another picture. He wanted her. Now.
After tossing the camera into the bag, he strode to his desk and moved in front of her. Her skin was flushed, either from self-consciousness or excitement. He hoped it was the latter. Hoped that she was experiencing the steady burn she’d incited in him.
Mitch pulled her up from the desk and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her to the sofa and deposited her there. He leaned over to kiss her, deep, hard, unrelenting, before he worked the jacket off her slender shoulders and pulled her arms from the sleeves. He trailed his lips down her neck, pausing to slide his tongue along the edging of her bra. When he heard her gasp, he raised his head and found her staring at him with anticipation.
“This morning, I didn’t like finding you gone from my bed,” he told her as he played with her nipples through the bra.
“I thought it might be better if I slept in my own bed, in case Buck should become suspicious.”
“I don’t care what Buck thinks. I just want to make you feel as good as you made me felt last night. Let me do that, Tori.”
“What if someone wants you?”
“I want you, and that’s all that matters.”