Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  “You’re sure?” He moved his hands to her upper arms. Squeezing his fingers around her supple muscles, he drew her against him.

  When she rested her hands on his shoulders and nodded, he lowered his mouth to hers and slanted a kiss across her soft lips. He licked along the seam of her mouth and probed it open with his tongue. She slipped her arms around his neck. Heat charged straight to his dick when her breasts flattened against his chest.

  She pulled her lips from his and trailed them along his cheek. Her words breathed past his ear. “I’ve never been more sure in my life. I want you now, Cris.”

  Shifting his hands to her back, he splayed one in the middle and let the other drift to the curve above her sweet ass. He flexed his fingers into her flanks and urged her closer to his hips. When his erection pressed into her soft belly, all he could think of was a long, slow slide home inside her.

  Sarah jerked his sweater up, exposing the T-shirt underneath. When she slid her fingers up under the shirt, it felt like she’d trailed fire along his spine, sparking a flame he didn’t care to extinguish. He found her lips again and claimed them with a deep, open-mouth, greedy kiss. She returned it with fervor, letting him slip his tongue past her teeth and stroke it deep in her mouth. Her mouth was a perfect, dark spot to unleash his fantasies, which included having her lips and tongue on a different part of his anatomy. He rocked his hips against her, pleased when she moaned in response.

  She pulled her lips from his. Trailing her fingers down the center of his chest, over his belly, and stopping just south of his belt line, she asked, “Give me ninety seconds, then follow me upstairs?”

  Unable to find his voice, Cris just nodded.

  She backed away from him, her gaze traveling over his body, lingering at his crotch. Blood surged into his cock, making him uncomfortably hard. A sexy smile spread over her face by the time she’d made it to the stairs. When she kicked off her flat-heeled shoes, bright red toenails flashed as she turned. With one last come-hither sort of glance over her shoulder, she sprinted upstairs, her footfalls echoing lightly in the quiet of her home.

  Except for the throb in his dick, Cris stood as still as a rock, mentally counting off thirty of the ninety seconds she’d requested. Then he toed off his shoes, thankful he hadn’t worn socks. Each move jostled his cock as anticipation hardened him to the point of petrified wood, straining against the zipper. Following Sarah’s path, he walked across the living room, tossing the sweater and shirt he’d stripped off on a chair as he passed.

  He reached the stairs. “Fifty-five, fifty-six...” He placed his hand on the railing, pressing his fingers against the smooth oak. The upper hall was illuminated with a diffused light from her bedroom. Shadows of Sarah moving in her room flickered on the ceiling.

  He lifted his foot to the bottom step. This was going to be the longest thirty seconds of his life.

  ***

  She’d peeled her sweater off on her flight up the stairs. Once she crossed the threshold, she hurled it to the corner. Standing next to the bed, she shimmied out of her jeans and then kicked them under the bed. She wore black, lacy underwear and, after a momentary debate, she opted to leave them on. Along with the lacy camisole. She’d passed on a bra—not like she really needed one, anyway. She cupped her own breasts and prayed Cris wouldn’t be disappointed in her lack of abundance. “More than a mouthful is a waste, right?” she mumbled.

  Pillows scattered to the floor as she pulled the comforter to the foot of the bed. The pale gray blanket and pink sheets quickly followed until the bed stood ready. She stared at it for a moment, wondering where her sense had gone. Once she crossed this line, there would be no going back.

  Heart thumping against her ribcage, she opened the drawer of the table next to the bed. She rooted around until she found what she was looking for. She laid the foil squares on the top. She’d invited Cris into her life, into her bed, even after she’d promised herself...well, it didn’t matter what she’d promised herself. She was jumping over her own line with both feet. Before she could give into growing doubt, she climbed onto the mattress and crawled toward the middle. Then she sat back on her heels and waited.

  His footsteps were soft as he climbed the steps. But she heard them and the swishing sound of his jeans as he climbed. Chewing her bottom lip, she waited for his appearance in her doorway. Her heart sped up, making breathing difficult once he finally stepped into her room.

  He’d removed his shirt and the top button of his jeans was undone. The elastic band of his briefs showed over the top of his jeans, framing narrow hips, his lean waist. His torso widened through the chest and shoulders. But the look in his eyes made her forget to breathe altogether. More gray than green, and shadowed with desire as he caught sight of her. He took a step toward the bed, then another until he stood next to it.

  His muscles flexed and popped as he reached toward her. He stroked the back of his fingers from her shoulder down her chest, his touch feather light.

  When he passed over her breast, she gasped as her nipple drew taut. “Cris.” Her voice was raspy when she breathed his name.

  He lifted a knee onto the bed and leaned toward her. “You are so lovely. So soft.” He pressed his lips against hers and raised his hand along the same path as its descent.

  Bracing a hand on the mattress, he kissed his way along her jaw and down her neck. He scattered kisses on her chest as he tangled his fingers in the lace of her camisole. He eased the strap over her shoulder and slid it down her arm before moving his hand inside the fabric and cupping her breast. His hand nearly scalded her. It felt like a supercharged string ran from her breast to between her thighs, sending tingles from his palm directly to her pussy. She let her head fall backward as he squeezed her breast and mouthed her neck.

  He withdrew his hand. “Can we get rid of this?” he asked as he reached for the bottom of the cami. He didn’t wait for her answer, just lifted.

  As he drew the fabric over her breasts, it rasped across her nipples. Before he had the top over her head, he pressed his mouth to one of sensitive peaks. The wet heat inflamed her, and she clutched his head. Cris sat back on his heels and placed his hand over her other breast. Pressing his hands over both mounds, he cupped her and lifted. He moved his lips from one nipple to the other, then back.

  He circled her areola with his tongue. Easing away, he blew a soft breath on it. He stared at the tight bud. “So sweet. So perfect for me.” He raised his eyes to hers, then placed her hand over the straining bulge. Squeezing his eyes shut, he breathed hard. “Sarah, I wanted this to be slow and easy, but I don’t think I can. I need you too much.”

  “I need you too, Cris.” She carefully lowered the zipper on his jeans.

  He reared away from her and, in an instant, had his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs. He stumbled and laughed as he kicked his feet free.

  His erection bobbed against his tight abs, rising proudly from a thatch of dark, curly hair. The head was the angry purple color found at sunrise on a cloudy morning. Sarah reached out and stroked him from base to tip. When she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, his chest heaved as if he’d run a great distance very fast.

  The mattress dipped under his weight when he joined her on the bed. A decadent smile lit his face as he crawled up over her body. He pressed her down to the soft pillow-top. He stayed on his knees between her legs. Hooking his hands in the elastic of her panties, he bent and pressed kisses along her pelvic bone from hip to hip. He jerked the scrap of silk and lace down first one leg, then the other. He propped her feet on his thighs and spread her knees.

  Heat rose in her chest and cheeks as she lay splayed under his perusal. She wondered what he thought of the narrow strip of hair that led like a beacon to her most intimate place. Would he kiss her there? Oh, God, she hoped so. Sucking in her belly, she rocked her hips up, letting him know she craved his lips and his fingers all over.

  Her feet fell from his thighs when he slid his hands over the sensitive flesh on the
inside of her legs until he reached her bum and lifted her hips. He moved forward, licking his way up her calf, over the ticklish skin behind her knee, and rose further still. She fisted her hand in the pillow under her head and whimpered.

  She jumped when he pressed his mouth against her clit. A cry she couldn’t stop escaped when he sucked and gently bit the small nub. When he lapped his tongue over her slit and slipped it inside, she was sure the top of her head would burst open with the pure pleasure he’d induced. He found her breast with one hand and played her nipple like he’d stroke a guitar string.

  Each of his groans, every lick of his tongue or nip with his teeth, heightened her need until her entire body hummed with sensation. “Cris, please. Now. I need you now.”

  He laved his tongue over her once more before rising to his knees. The heat of his cock seared her thigh when he leaned across her to grab the condom she’d left on the table. In mere moments, he’d sheathed himself. He shifted back over her, his weight pressing her to the mattress as he nestled between her thighs.

  The tip of his dick prodded her opening at the same time his tongue probed between her lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. Clutching her fingers to his head, she urged him to move up. His dusky skin glowed softly in the gleam of the bedside lamp when he propped himself on his elbows.

  Looming above her, his eyes were open, and he held her gaze as he eased into her. She stretched to accommodate him and rocked her hips to take more of him. He ground his groin against her, driving her need higher with the erotic sensation. He lifted his hips, pulling back, and then surged forward again.

  Meeting him stroke for stroke, Sarah kept up with his pace. His shoulders trembled with strain as he held himself above her, moved within her. He rode her with his whole body, hips, belly, chest, all rubbing against her.

  She felt her orgasm building with each thrust, every slide of skin on skin. His groans answered her moans. Breath squeaked out of her like air escaping a balloon, high pitched and sibilant. Pressure grew inside until it burst over her with cataclysmic passion. Lights and color swirled together behind her eyes. Sensation rippled from the point where his body joined hers, rising like high tide until it burst in her head.

  Cris finally gave her his full weight, his torso rubbing over hers, his breath rushing in her ear, hips moving like a piston. His motion was frenzied, and each stroke sent shards of desire through her. Rearing his head backward, he shouted her name as his climax hit him.

  After he collapsed on top of her, he continued to rock his shaft within her sheath. Each stroke awakened more tingles inside her until she came a second time, crying his name as tears leaked from her eyes.

  Cris’s chest brushed against hers as they both settled. His breath came out as harsh gusts in her ear when he turned his face and rested his cheek on the pillow. He traced his tongue along the column of her neck, each lick followed by a tender kiss or a light nip.

  He lifted his hips enough for his shaft to slip from her body, but didn’t move off her. Propping himself on one elbow, he moved his hand to her hair and toyed with the wild strands. “That was...” He dipped his mouth to hers and finished the sentence by probing his tongue in her mouth.

  Laying her hand on his cheek, she went deeper into the kiss before pulling back and smiling up into his eyes. “Flipping awesome, I believe is what you meant to say.”

  He laughed. “I was going to say fucking amazing, but flipping awesome works as well.” He rolled away from her and flopped onto his back. After he stripped off and discarded the used condom, he pulled her over until she sprawled over him.

  One leg draped over his thighs, her head pillowed on his chest, his heart thudded steadily under her cheek. She pressed a kiss to his flat nipple and breathed out a sigh. “You know what I discovered? Breaking the rules can be fun. I should do this more often.”

  “I won’t argue. As long as you only break them with me.” His voice was light, amused, and his chest vibrated with each word.

  Sarah glanced up at him. “Are you saying we should be exclusive?” A situation she’d be happy with to be sure.

  “Sarah, I’m not with anyone else.” He hesitated, doubt casting shadows in his eyes. “Are you seeing someone?”

  She couldn’t help it; she rolled her eyes. “If I was, I doubt I’d be naked in your arms, Cris. I might have broken one of my rules, but I don’t break all of them. I’d never be intimate with more than one man at a time. I wouldn’t know how.”

  His ribcage rose and fell sharply as he huffed out a breath. He tightened his arms around her shoulders. “Good, because I find the idea of sharing you with another man pisses me off. And for the record, I know that sounds crazy possessive, but it’s how I feel. You are more than just a casual affair for me.”

  “At the risk of sounding silly and corny...ditto.” She hid her smile against his chest.

  “Good, that’s settled then.” He lay in silence, playing with the ends of her hair, running his fingertips up and down her arm, lulling her to a light doze. The bed jiggled when he lifted his head from the pillow and looked over her toward the bedside clock. A deep groan exploded between his lips when he dropped his head to the pillow. “If we’re going to try to grab dinner somewhere before I have to pick up Trip, we should move.”

  She didn’t want to know how late it was. Knowing would set a finite limit on the time they could remain cocooned from the rest of the world and their responsibilities. She snuggled closer to his chest. “Don’t want to get up.”

  “I don’t either. But if we don’t, we won’t have enough time to get food, drop you back here, and then race to get him. Unless we meet somewhere, and I leave from the restaurant.” He cupped the back of her head and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry to end this, but I can’t be late.”

  Laying a hand on his taut abs, she pushed herself up until she sat next to him, sheet clutched against her chest. She glanced at his body, partly hidden under the covers. He was tall and trim and looked at home in her bed. Regret danced along her nerves at the thought of him leaving. “Do you want to hop in the shower before we go eat?”

  “Maybe,” he replied, a sexy grin lifting the corners of his cheeks. The ridge of his cock visibly hardened under the sheet. “Will you be in there with me?”

  Regret vanished as desire blazed. “If you think we have time.”

  Cris snatched the sheet away from her. After leaping to his feet, he scooped another condom from the table, and lifted her in his arms. She squeaked in delight as he strode into the bath. Giving her a smoldering look, he let her body slide down his and kicked the door shut with a bang.

  Chapter Twelve

  By Friday, Cris had gotten under her skin. Her infatuation with him had sprouted roots in all of her senses. The smell of eggs cooking in the skillet reminded her of the hasty breakfast-for-dinner meal she’d fixed him before he’d left to pick up Kit after they’d made love the other night. He’d laughed and teased her when he’d opened her broom closet to throw something away and discovered her 2010 Men of the Boston FD calendar. The look on his face was priceless when she told him she was going to paste his picture over Mr. February’s body.

  The sweet pumpkin and cinnamon aroma from the bowl of scent beads on Molly’s desk brought back memories of his call two nights ago. Because of his responsibilities to his son, he couldn’t come over, and she wouldn’t risk Kit discovering her in his dad’s bed. She’d lit aromatic candles in her bedroom and indulged in some very awesome phone sex with him. After, they’d talked until she’d fallen asleep.

  The color of the sky this morning, the unusual gray-green that promised some kind of weather, was the exact shade of Cris’s eyes when he smiled.

  Sarah hugged a clipboard to her chest as she made her way through the school hallways to the theater department. She needed to do an inventory on the props to make sure they had everything they needed for the performances. Opening night was next Thursday, and it was crunch time. She’d cl
eared her schedule for thirty minutes at the end of the school day to take care of this task. Rehearsal would start soon, and she needed to get this done.

  The auditorium was darkened, but she could see light glimmering under the curtain on the stage. Her footfalls were muted on the carpet as she made her way to the steps. Quiet enough for her to hear thuds, banging, and muttered profanity as she approached.

  Unsure why her oh-shit-something’s-wrong sense pinged like a pinball, she gripped the clipboard tighter and tiptoed up the steps. She crossed quietly to the curtain hanging stage left. The heavy velvet crushed under her fingers when she grasped it to pull it to the side. Whoever was on the opposite side was not trying to remain quiet.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah exclaimed when she discovered Mary Sherman, looking disheveled and dusty.

  “I’m moving spotlights where they belong.”

  Reaching for her Sharpie from under the metal clip, Sarah challenged the former director. “Why?”

  “Because they are in the wrong positions. Who came in and messed around with these? This will not do at all for the blocking I’d planned.” The woman’s tone crackled with impatience.

  “Mary, you resigned as director. When I took over, I changed things to a more modern staging.” Pop—click—pop. Disgruntled, Sarah paused the soothing motion and shoved the pen into the pocket of her khakis. Mary swung one of the lights to the side. Alarm spread through Sarah as the cord pulled taut. “Mary! Stop! You shouldn’t be moving those around. The electrician just finished repairing them, and they’ve passed inspection. Leave them alone.”

  “What? Why did you need an electrician?”

  As Sarah pulled the pen back out of her pocket, she dug deep for patience. “Sam Kerrigan had the fire marshal come in for an inspection. The wiring was faulty and potentially dangerous. We called a professional to update it. Put that down!” The cap of her pen flew from her fingers and the clipboard clattered to the ground as she lunged forward to grab the canister light from Mary.