Strip Search

by Shayla Black

  "I'm a CPA, yes."

  "Really?" The set of her full mouth showed her utter confusion. "Is that what you did in Florida when you worked for the bank?"

  Not exactly, and not as Mark Gabriel, but why split hairs? "Yes."

  "Why did you give it up?" Nicki's face softened, reflecting her confusion. "Why come here and take work as an exotic dancer?"

  Actually, he'd finished his CPA shortly after leaving jail and going to work for Rafe. But Nicki couldn't know that, or it would blow his cover. She'd asked good questions that, if he didn't find good answers for fast, would make her very suspicious. Keeping his cover was paramount to catching Bocelli doing something illegal with her money.

  "Long story. That life is behind me. It needs to stay there."

  Ugh, did he sound like a bad soap opera, complete with cheesy angst?

  "What happened before, the embezzlement allegation, it's unlikely to happen again," she said softly.

  He shrugged. "Whatever. I just came here to warn you. You've worked too hard to let a jack off like Bocelli mismanage your money."

  A hint of annoyance flitted across her face. "Hanging out here for a week and a half doesn't make you an expert on my business or the people here."

  "Maybe, but being around Bocelli 24-7 hasn't made you one, either."

  Nicki rose and paced across the living room, agitation apparent in every stomping step. "Why are all men such arrogant bastards? They treat you like you're a moron, like you couldn't possibly make a decision more important than what to have for breakfast without their help. Even when you think you like one of them and want to have sex with him and call him over for that very purpose, you get some sort of speech--"

  "What?"

  Mark crossed the room in three steps and grabbed her arm. Nicki gasped, blue eyes flashing up at him with a mixture of fury and hurt.

  "You called me over here to spend the night with you?"

  She wrenched her arm from his grip and clapped. "Thanks for playing 'Jeopardy: The Home Edition.' You got Brilliant Deductions for four hundred correct and managed to phrase your answer in the form of a question. Someone get the guy an award."

  "Nicki--"

  Gesturing down to her outfit, she said, "Did you think I hung around here on my day off looking like this for the hell of it?"

  With her sarcastic question, puzzle pieces clicked into place for Mark. Nicki despised talking business on her day off, but she'd invited him over. The last time he'd seen her on her day off, she'd been wearing yoga pants and a tank top with her hair in a ponytail. When he'd entered her apartment a few minutes ago, she'd been anxious and a little hesitant. Mark had assumed she dreaded reaming him out about bad rehearsals or asking suspicious questions about his interest in her accounting. In retrospect, Nicki would have been all for sinking her teeth into those situations. She thrived on solving conflicts and getting things done.

  No, she was nervous, which meant he got to her. She'd been waiting for him to notice her appearance and do something about it.

  Boy, when he screwed up, he did it right.

  None of this changed the fact that Nicki was probably consorting with a suspected gangster. But now wasn't the time to talk about that. Now, he was going to make the most of this situation and try to influence Nicki's opinion of Blade Bocelli ... all while indulging in this walking, talking fantasy.

  "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."

  The sleek black brows arched up, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "At least you admit it."

  With a half-smile, he nodded. "You look great. What made you change your mind?"

  She rolled her eyes. "If we have to talk about it first, just forget it. Clearly, I read the situation wrong."

  Don't say a word. Grab her, kiss her, take her to the bedroom, sink into her for the rest of the night.

  Mark sighed. Why did he have to be a nice guy? "We should talk about it. I don't want you to regret it later."

  The starch left her shoulders. She uncrossed her arms. "I'm sure of this. I mean, you saved my life."

  His lust deflated faster than helium from a popped balloon. "I don't want you to thank me like that."

  "You're misunderstanding." She shook her head and looked around the room, apparently searching for the right words. "You risked your life for me. It was brave. Heroic."

  "Nicki, believe me, I'm no hero. It was a ... reflex."

  "You have a lot of those." She smiled.

  "Apparently so." He slowly approached her. "Look, I just did something that came naturally. You don't owe me anything."

  "I didn't think I owed you." She glanced down, then lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. "The fact you had an instinct to save me tells me a lot about you. It's one of the things that makes me like you, even when I wish I didn't. Even when I shouldn't indulge. That's why I invited you here."

  He squeezed her hand, then released her. "I'm glad you like me but ... I like a lot of people I don't sleep with."

  "You're not going to let me off easy. Damn," she muttered, then glared at him. "It's hard to admit the attraction is stronger than I am. I want you. You did something to me the first time I saw you. It's not going away. Happy?"

  Her admission made Mark's heart stop. "Seriously?"

  Nicki drew in a deep breath. "Yes. I was nervous, okay?

  I didn't want to have to explain it ... I really hoped the dress would say it for me."

  "Explaining it to me made you nervous? I can't picture you truly nervous."

  "I'm not all stilettos and bad attitude, you know."

  Once he stopped and thought about it, Mark believed her. Nicki could have tossed him out the night he'd snuck into her office to explain his "reasons" for needing this job. She didn't have to rent him the apartment down the hall from hers when he'd all but begged for help in finding a place. She worked around Zack's grandfather's doctor appointments. Nicki wasn't heartless. Driving, tough, determined, yes. But not a bitch.

  Mark eased closer to Nicki. She watched his every move, eyes growing wider when he paused inches from her. The little pulse pounded at her throat. Mark felt his own desire rising dangerously fast.

  He reached for Nicki, slid his hand underneath the wild curls she'd teased into her hair, to cup the sensitive skin at her nape. "That's true, but I like your stilettos and bad attitude, too."

  A little smile played at the comers of her mouth. "Are you going to kiss me now?"

  Splaying his free hand at the small of her back, he drew Nicki's small frame flush against him. "Kiss you, get you out of these sexy clothes, get deep inside you so I can hear you scream. Any issues with that?"

  "Yes." Nicki released a shaky breath. "What's taking so long?"

  Hazel eyes swirling with sultry green, Mark answered her question with a lazy, dimpled smile.

  Excitement and nerves danced in Nicki's belly. Yes, it had been a long time since she'd taken a lover. And it was their first time. Their only time. She just couldn't justify taking needed energy away from her business to maintain any sort of relationship. And she didn't do friends with benefits. Too ... tangled.

  Still, something more put her on edge, something more than the fact he was built like a mountain.

  "I suspect you're used to calling the shots and getting your way in bed," he murmured, his deep, masculine voice vibrating inside her. "That's not going to happen tonight."

  Tension knotted tighter in her belly.

  "You think you're taking charge?" she challenged.

  "You think you are?"

  His quick counter let her know he thought the idea ridiculous.

  Quickly, Nicki realized his attitude was exactly what she'd resisted and feared ... and secretly yearned for. He had the muscle and prowess to pull it off--but then, a lot of guys did. The question always became if a man had enough resolution and control to challenge her strong personality. That she'd never found. But Mark ... She sensed now--and had from the start--that he would.

  The idea terrified and inflamed her at onc
e.

  What would it be like to just surrender? To put herself in his hands so utterly and give him total control of their mutual pleasure? To let him control her, just the tiniest bit?

  "So you think you're the big man calling the shots?" She couldn't resist baiting him.

  Mark tilted his head to study her. "I don't think anything, except that no man has ever really challenged you. They've danced to your tune, let you decide everything, thinking it would please you."

  "Maybe it did."

  "Maybe you're lying."

  "You think I want to be pushed around?" She arched a dark brow at him.

  He shocked her by grabbing her arm, spinning her around, and molding her back against his chest.

  "I think you want to be taken, dominated, pleasured until you can barely think," he whispered in her ear and splayed his huge hand over her belly. "You have a lot of responsibility in life. I don't think you want to have it in the bedroom."

  Nicki swallowed, searching for a comeback. She didn't have one. Everything he said was true. In fact, secretly, she fantasized about surrendering utterly. How did he know it? How did he understand something no other man ever had about her? Everyone saw her as strong and tough and brash. She hated admitting, even to herself, that she didn't want to be in charge of every single thing in life. And Mark knew.

  It made her want him like crazy.

  The solid length of his erection pressed against the small of her back. Holy cow, if he was as big as he felt, he was going to stuff her full and then some.

  Her knees--and other parts of her--turned liquid just thinking about it.

  "Prove it," she said finally.

  Behind her, Mark laughed, something low and sensual. "If you insist..."

  Nicki had no chance to say a word before he bent, lifted her into his arms, and started walking down the hall. It didn't seem to cost him any more effort than it would if she'd lifted a shopping bag or two.

  The thought disappeared when he fastened his mouth on hers, tongue delving inside to alternately tease and devour. She drew in a breath, as a wave of desire slammed her. Dizzy, disoriented, she clung to him, fingers twining in his soft, shoulder-length hair.

  The kiss shouted his desire, his intent to touch her all over, even as it claimed. She'd been kissed plenty ... but not quite like this. He angled his head perfectly so he could fully penetrate her mouth. He scorched her senses as he nipped at her bottom lip, then made himself at home, his tongue tracing slow, caressing circles around her own. She moaned against him, aware of the arousal bubbling inside her, of her heartbeat picking up speed.

  Mark stopped both walking and kissing, then eased her to her feet. Nicki opened her eyes to find herself in her bedroom, the back of her legs edged right against the bed.

  The look he sent her was pure sex, half knowing smile, half wicked intent. Lord, that man could charm the sternest woman, even Sister Mary Anita, the witch with the evil ruler who had blistered the backs of her hands in the fifth grade.

  Nicki wasn't nearly that tough. She felt herself melting perilously fast.

  Twisting his fingers through her hair, Mark tugged, then bent to spread kisses across her jaw. He lapped his way back toward her ear, nipping, following up with a sensual lick here and there. His breath fanned down the sensitive skin of her neck. Nicki shivered.

  "You look beautiful with your lips all red and swollen. I can't wait to see how the rest of you looks in that state," he whispered.

  Then his mouth found hers again. His slow invasion made her toes curl, as he licked her lips, enticing her to part them. Cupping the back of her head, he swept into her mouth again, lingered, as if he had all the time in the world to drive her insane with his kiss.

  It was working.

  Most every guy she knew would be trying to rip off her clothes and put her flat on her back by now, whether she was ready or not. Not this one. Apparently, he intended to tease her until she couldn't remember her name.

  Desire ratcheted up. Her patience dwindled. She hated to admit he was succeeding.

  Breathing ragged, Nicki gripped the front of his shirt and used it to pull her way up to his neck. She wanted more. She needed additional contact, preferably without all this annoying clothing in the way.

  Pressing her body flush against his, she absorbed his heat, gloried in the feel of his unyielding chest flat against hers. And the luscious length of his ... equipment. Already she was aching to put it to good use.

  Instead, he broke away with a laugh that dripped male satisfaction.

  "Eager?" he murmured.

  Wasn't it enough that her body sought his? Now she had to admit how much she wanted him out loud? "No, just thinking about the rules of Parcheesi."

  Her panting made a liar out of her.

  He flashed her a wide, heated grin, dimples and all. "That's too bad. I was thinking about how great it was going to be when I got my mouth on the rest of you, but if you'd rather play Parcheesi ..."

  "Maybe your idea is better." Nicki couldn't keep the husky tone out of her voice.

  "Let's find out."

  Mark's hand dropped from her hair to the tie at the back of her neck, holding up the top of her halter dress. Nicki's heart started racing as he grabbed the strings and gave a single pull. They slithered apart. The top gaped slightly, showing him a flash of cleavage. Apparently that wasn't enough.

  He wrapped his hands around the sides of her dress at her neck and slowly--so damn slowly--slipped it down past her collarbones, down the swells of her breasts, down over her pebble-hard nipples.

  That got a groan out of him.

  Mark caressed the sensitive skin at her waist, then smoothed his hand up her body. He found her bare breast, cupped it, brushed his thumb over her nipple once, twice.

  Nicki's knees threatened to buckle.

  "Damn, you look sexy. No bra..." He groaned again. "You feel amazing."

  Knowing she'd excited him aroused her even more. She couldn't wait to do it again.

  "Want to guess what else I'm not wearing?" she whispered, taunting.

  His hazel eyes flared with a lash of heat that burned her. "Sure, I'll guess."

  That sultry smile of his dazzled her as he knelt down and lifted one of her feet onto his thigh, a breath away from his impressive bulge.

  "You're not wearing a left shoe," he said, removing it, then setting her foot back on her Persian rug. He reached for her other foot and repeated the process. "Or a right one, either."

  Before he could shuffle her foot back to the floor, Nicki scooted her foot a scant inch to the left. Bull's-eye! His erection bisected the bottom of her foot, hard and totally as advertised in those yummy jeans. She curled her toes over the swollen head and rubbed. He groaned.

  "Who said you could do that?"

  "I did." She proceeded to do it again.

  Mark grabbed her foot and pressed it even harder into his steely shaft. "Every once in a while you have a damn fine idea."

  Nicki laughed ... but not for long. Drawing in a bracing breath, Mark set her foot aside.

  "You're not in control here. Where was I before you ruthlessly sidetracked me?" he murmured, leaning in.

  His hot breath was her only warning before he kissed her ankle, licked his way up her calf, nipped the back of her knee. No one had ever paid so much attention to her legs. Oh, they looked. But kissed like she was better than a centerfold fantasy? No.

  "Mark ..."

  "Well, you're not wearing pantyhose, I see." He planted an open-mouthed kiss just above her knee--on the inside of her thigh. His fingers grazed the back of her legs. Goose pimples broke out everywhere.

  "I'm not," she choked. Just a little higher!

  "Good. Never liked them." He nibbled on her thigh, just at the hem of her short dress.

  Nicki felt herself tremble. Actually tremble, for Pete's sake. She was so wet, and he was so close to it that he had to scent her.

  "Mark ..." She heard the pleading note in her voice and just didn't care.
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br />   Then she felt a little tug on her dress, heard the rasp of her zipper. Nicki closed her eyes as the dress slid down her body, a sensual caress of black crepe. The cool air massaged her skin. But she felt Mark's gaze heating her back up.

  "You're not wearing a dress. At least not anymore." His voice dropped a beguiling octave, and Nicki seriously contemplated jumping on the man and ripping his clothes off just so they could get on with getting it on.

  "And what else do you notice I'm not wearing?" she baited, voice raspy.

  "Hmmm." He pretended to ponder the matter.

  But when Nicki looked down, his face was mere inches from the patch of dark hair between her legs.

  "Why, Ms. DiStefano, where are your panties?"

  "I left them off, just for you."

  Holy cow, he had stripped her totally naked, but was still completely dressed himself--just like what was happening between them. She was laid bare, stripped of control, while he still had his completely intact.

  The thought aroused and worried her at the same time. What if she didn't really affect him beyond his usual ... reflex?

  Doubts swamped her. Just as she seriously contemplated covering herself with the virginal white bathrobe Lucia's mother had bought her for Christmas, Mark planted his thumbs on either side of her vaginal lips and parted them.

  "I like you without panties," he breathed against her. "Feel free to forgo them anytime you're with me."

  Then his tongue sank into her slick folds, and he licked upward, settling right over her clit.

  Tingles shot up her spine. Sensations bombarded her. Nicki gasped and blindly searched for his shoulders for support. He took another lazy swipe at her with his mouth, sucking her clit inside and rubbing the sensitive tip with his tongue.

  Her head fell back, even as her fingers threaded through his hair, grabbing fistfuls, as if it would help her find her sanity. Oh, he was so orally gifted.

  "Mark ..."

  He ignored her cries. Instead, he eased her back onto the bed, ensuring her ass rested on the edge. Nicki tensed as he lifted her legs and placed them on either shoulder. His every exhalation hit her right there. Oh, holy hell. He was getting comfy on the floor, as if gearing up for a picnic at which she was the main course.