Strip Search

by Shayla Black

  Nicki molded around him, yielding, soft. Her nipples poked his chest, as if daring him to touch them. He could feel the heat from her body all over his cock. And her expression, yearning, wary, was delicious.

  She wanted, too. But she was fighting it. "One dance," she whispered. "Please."

  At times like this, he wished he was the kind of heartless bastard who could just seduce a woman without regard for her wants and feelings. Life would be simpler, anyway. But he wasn't built like that.

  Everything below his waist protested when he eased some space between them. He wasn't about to release her, so he simply held her close, swaying to the music, until the first song ended. Another began with a flare of violins.

  "Thank you," she murmured, trying to push discreetly at his chest.

  "You're welcome." He ignored her attempt to put distance between them.

  "When you're up onstage," she whispered, her lips a breath away from his neck, "don't think about the audience as a whole. Think about being somewhere else. Or being alone in the club. Or focus on whatever you were thinking about when you auditioned for me. That was perfect."

  "Dancing for you was easy. You looked at me like a starving woman cases a buffet."

  "You made me feel hungry for you," she confessed. "Whatever you did that day, it was like magic. Can you do it again?"

  "Maybe. If you're in the audience, watching, it might work."

  "I will be. I promise."

  "That day I auditioned for you, I imagined getting my hands on your body, giving you pleasure."

  Nicki sucked in a breath. "Mark ..."

  "I still imagine it every time I see you."

  She didn't respond for a long minute. The music cascaded around them, lilting, a caress to the ear drums, a soft seduction. The dim golden lights beamed a spot on the stage to Mark's left, leaving him in shadow with a warm, cinnamon-scented woman in his arms.

  The way she pumped his libido up with a steady stream of lust wasn't smart. It made no sense, how badly he wanted to taste Nicki. To claim her. But Mark couldn't wait another second.

  Cradling the back of her neck in his hand, he tilted her face to the perfect angle and stared down at her. Her red lips parted, her breathing grew shallow. Reading her breathless anticipation only made his gut tighten again, his erection that much harder.

  Damn it, why this woman?

  He stopped cursing, stopped questioning, when he slanted his lips over hers. He didn't ask for entrance or cajole. No patience. He simply took full possession of her mouth. Nicki opened for him without hesitation. Her fingers clawed their way up his shoulders. She stood on the tips of her toes to press her lips into the kiss. And she moaned. God, the sound was like heaven as it sang down his spine, and then directly into his cock.

  A haze of lust fogged his mind. He had to have her. Now. No more waiting, no more wondering why she scorched him like a desert brushfire blazing a hundred thousand acres.

  It just was--and he was done questioning it.

  His hand at the back of her neck found the zipper to her sexy red dress on the first feel. As he guided it down the length of her narrow back, the metallic glide accompanied the music.

  Nicki stiffened. "Mark..."

  He answered by capturing her mouth again and sliding his hands to the clasp of her bra. As he nibbled on her lower lip, he swept into her mouth with a melting kiss meant to drown her in the lust he felt. Mark swept away the top half of her dress with insistent fingers until it pooled around her hips, ready to come off with one tiny tug. Her bra followed, and he dropped it to the ground as he broke the kiss to fasten his hungry gaze to her nipples. Rosy nipples. Hard, swollen nipples.

  An instant before he leaned down to seize one with his mouth, Nicki raised her hands and covered her breasts. She did a really lousy job, though. Her palms barely covered the essentials. Lots of pale, rounded flesh beckoned him between her fingers. God, he'd love to have a picture of this. Arousal itched just under his skin, distracting him from everything except scratching it. The only thing sexier would be to watch her stroke herself.

  In fact, the idea made Mark smile. He moved that to the top of his priority list.

  Nicki retreated a step. "Mark, this isn't a good idea."

  He snapped his gaze up to her face. She said the words, all right, but her voice, breathy and uneven, along with her dilating blue eyes, told him it was her head objecting. Her body wanted him just as bad as he wanted her. Until she stopped lying, he wasn't listening.

  "Put your hands down."

  "I think we should talk. What if Blade--"

  "I don't give a shit about Bocelli. This is between you and me. Put your hands down before I tie them down," he growled.

  She blinked, hesitated. But her chest rose and fell with a shaky breath, then another. Her lips parted, flushed and moist. Her hands began to tremble. Arousal had to be creaming her slit, because he smelled her in the air between them. It nearly brought him to his knees.

  Oh yeah, the rational part of her was fighting it. Too bad that part of her wasn't going to win. Even without his seduction, Mark sensed her lust growing faster than she could fight it off.

  "Now, Nicki."

  Mark was relishing the thought of making good on his threat to tie her down when she slowly lowered her hands, exposing the hard peaks of her nipples and the gentle slopes of her breasts to his greedy gaze.

  "Good girl. Now take the rest off--dress, panties."

  She closed her eyes. "Nothing good can come from this."

  No doubt, she was right. After all, Nicki was a suspect.

  But with every word, every scrap of resistance, she tested the unraveling thread of his patience. He'd never found himself so hungry, so demanding of a woman, felt such a deep need to have her full cooperation in her own surrender. Something about Nicki ... She had to submit utterly; he wouldn't accept anything less.

  "Orgasms aren't tragic." His voice sounded like something rubbed raw with sandpaper. "Don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself. Do you want me?"

  Nicki hesitated, bit her lip. "Yes," she finally whispered.

  "Then take everything off."

  Biting her lip, Nicki opened her eyes on a sigh. But the truth now darkened her upturned blue eyes. She did want him and she accepted that fact.

  Mark's heart pounded like a hundred horses circling the track at the Kentucky Derby as Nicki raised her hands to the dress about her hips, wriggled once, twice, then let go. She stood before him wearing nothing but black, wrap-around stilettos.

  A surge of lust had his hands clenching into fists. Desire burned his blood. He never remembered feeling anything as strong as the demand pounding at his body, the ache pooling in his cock, the need to have her open to him, accepting him, taking everything he could give.

  "Are you wet?" As if he didn't know the answer. Still, he asked in slow, controlled tones, fighting off the urge to rip his clothes off and fuck her until he didn't know his own name.

  "Yes." She swallowed.

  "Prove it."

  Nicki's gaze clung to his--wide, uncertain, confused. Then she looked down, past her flat stomach, all the way to her pussy, and hesitated. Her gaze, now shimmering with heat, climbed up his body, to his waiting stare.

  Taking a deep breath, Nicki covered her dark, shadowed mound with her hand, fingers sinking slowly between her slick, pouting lips. As he watched, Mark felt a jolt of lust as potent as a live wire.

  She spread her legs slightly, brushed her clit with her fingertips.

  "Deeper," he urged. "Get inside."

  For once, she did as he asked without pause. Her fingers sank deep, and a moan slipped from her parted lips. Then she eased them out to toy with her clit again, rubbing in small, whispering circles until her eyes slid shut and she arched her neck on another moan.

  God, she looked hot, wanton--a woman seeking her own pleasure, baring it to him. It enticed the hell out of him, made his erection swell yet again against his leather pants. She likely knew she affected him,
and he didn't care. At the moment, he was her adoring audience of one.

  Her moans shortened to panting mewls. Her fingers swept over the swollen bud of her clit more rapidly. With her free hand, she grasped one breast and pinched her nipple.

  Desire surged through him, trapping the breath in his chest, stopping his heart.

  Damn, a man could only take so much teasing. Mark had always enjoyed spectator sports, but when given a choice, he'd rather be a player. This was no exception.

  "That's enough."

  Nicki's eyes fluttered open. The lost-in-pleasure haze in her eyes was like a Bruce Lee kick to the gut, potent, disarming.

  "But ..."

  "You still haven't proven to me that you're wet."

  Squeezing her thighs together, Nicki winced. "I'm so close . . ."

  "Tonight, any orgasm you have comes from me."

  Her fingers started moving again. Oh, it was subtle ... but Mark wasn't blind.

  "It's my body. If I want an orgasm--"

  "You'll let me to give it to you." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from the wet flesh he couldn't wait to explore, to possess.

  "Damn you!"

  "Prove it to me, Nicki."

  Swallowing, she jerked her wrist from his grasp and held up her fingers. Glossy and thick, her juices coated her skin and all but dripped to her palm. Mark smiled in savage satisfaction.

  "Very nice. Feed them to me."

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she led her fingers to his waiting mouth. Still she trembled, watching with wide, dilated eyes.

  Nicki reached him finally, and he opened his mouth to her approaching fingers. Her spice dripped onto his tongue, along with the taste of her skin and her trembling want. The combination exploded in his mouth. He sucked hard, drawing her in farther, tracing the crease between her fingers with the tip of his tongue. She closed her eyes and let loose a delicious moan. Oh yeah, she was ready for anything he gave her.

  And he was burning to give her everything he could.

  Taking hold of her wrist, he guided her arm around his neck and drew her flush against him. At the feel of her, naked and eager against him, everything inside him gave way. Restraint--gone. Patience--vanished. The only thing left was this woman and his insane need to have her as completely as he could.

  Mark took hold of her chin with his free hand and forced her gaze right into his eyes. "If you don't leave now, I'm going to get inside you, Nicki. Deep inside, where you cling to my cock. I'm going to stay there, hammering at you, until you don't care that you can't breathe, and you'll use your last bit of air to scream my name."

  Nicki's eyes widened, darkened. Mark swore he could see the endless ocean under moonlight swimming in her face. He wanted to drown.

  She didn't move a muscle except to say, "Yes. Now!"

  Her raspy whisper flared over his skin with the intensity of a third-degree burn.

  Frantic, wild-eyed, Mark scanned the stage, looking for any place to spread Nicki out and lay her down beneath him.

  Nothing but a dusty black floor and a flimsy chest of props likely to give her splinters on her ass. Besides, he wanted her alone, where no one could find them and interrupt, especially with a blare of loud, taunting music.

  Growling, he lifted her against him and fused their mouths together. He found his way offstage, blindly stomping through the club, to the door leading to the upstairs apartments.

  "Wrap your legs around me," he demanded.

  She complied instantly. Gratified with her response, he fisted his fingers into the sleek waterfall of her hair and tugged. Angling his mouth over hers, he thrust his way inside to taste the addictive honey of her kiss. Her moan vibrated deep inside him, rasping against his urgency to get inside her again and make certain she knew he would send her clawing over the edge of restraint.

  Barely aware of his ascent, Mark climbed the stairs, Nicki's sweet mouth submitting to his, her bare ass cradled in his hand. With every step, her oh-so-wet pussy rubbed against him, right where it counted--right where he could barely tolerate another moment outside her wet, silk walls.

  Mark resisted the urge to kick his door in. Instead, he slid her down to her tiptoes, pressing her against his door, while he fished out his keys with one hand and stroked his thumb over her nipples with the other.

  Nicki clung to him, her lips nibbling their way down his neck, to the sensitive seam of his shoulder. As she lifted one leg over his hip again and gyrated against his nearly exploding cock, he jammed the key in the door, shivered as she nipped at his lobe, and wondered if he could get her on her back and put a condom on in three seconds or less.

  "Hurry," she pleaded in between raw, panting breaths.

  In a flash of movement, he wrenched the key in the lock, shoved the door open, and slammed it behind him. Nicki only took that as a sign to lift her other leg over his other hip and make sure in her own way that he didn't divert his attention elsewhere.

  As if there was any chance of that.

  He swore his vision was nothing but a passion-hazed red as he cupped her ass, devoured her mouth, and carried her into his apartment all but impaled on his cock.

  His round kitchen table was the first smooth, flat surface he found. He laid Nicki down on its spotless Formica top. She hissed at the chill on her back and arched up to him like an offering.

  Mark had every intent of receiving.

  Throat tight, he fished a condom from his pocket and yanked his pants down to his hips. Fingers fumbling in haste, he thrust the condom on his engorged cock, gathered Nicki's slender thighs wide into the crooks of his elbows and drove his way home.

  She parted around him like melting butter, hot, pliable. Mark sank deep, fingers pressing into her hips as he pushed his way inside, deeper, deeper, until he was in to the hilt. Nicki's walls quivered around his cock, and pleasure gushed over him, so utterly complete. God, he'd never known its equal.

  Nicki lifted her hips to him with a whimper. "Mark!"

  He couldn't wait, had no control. Instead, he gave her everything he had in long, frantic strokes. Hell, she was so damn tight, every push in rasped with the wet, velvet friction. It teased his cock and had him tensing to hold back.

  No, damn it. Not that quickly. Not that easily. He might not have Nicki all to himself, but before tonight was over, she was going to know that he understood the secrets of her body and could give her pleasure like no one else could.

  She was not going to simply fuck him and forget him.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he stilled, pushing out the insistent feel of his throbbing cock, and focused on finding his calm, his center.

  He found only a modicum of control before Nicki wriggled her hips. Ecstasy careened through his body, made him grit this teeth. She responded by grabbing his wrists and dragging his hands over her breasts.

  "Now!" she demanded with a wild-eyed growl as a flush spread across her neck and shoulders.

  Refusing her was impossible.

  A quick pinch of her nipples had her gasping. Then he unleashed his lust. With punishing strokes, one after the other, he impaled her. The head of his cock rubbed her G-spot, dragged up her entire channel to nudge the mouth of her womb with every thrust. Her nails dug into his biceps. She swelled around him, clamping down on him even more, and she closed her eyes against the sheer ferocity of the sensation. Mark fought not to lose his mind, too.

  "Look at me, damn it!" he demanded.

  Her eyes flew open, blue gaze connecting with his, locking.

  Pushing into her again, he growled. "Don't look away."

  Nicki did as he demanded and watched as he lifted his hand from her breast, licked his thumb, settled it right over her distended clit, and circled. Her eyes widened as if in distress as the blue darkened to endless pools of need.

  Three strokes later, she exploded with a guttural shout of primal pleasure, as her silken slit milked him. But it was her expression that pushed him dangerously to the edge of his restraint, so focused and yearn
ing, as if he was the only man in the world who'd ever made her feel this way.

  God, he'd love that to be true.

  Rededicating his efforts, Mark rubbed at her clit again. The harsh strokes of his cock abraded her swollen, slick channel. In seconds, Nicki rewarded him by squeezing him even tighter inside her. The quivers became pulses, hard and constricting as she released again and screamed his name until her voice cracked and she ran out of air.

  And still she looked at him, as if he alone could undo her and remake her like this. As if he alone could save her.

  As if she loved him.

  Mark's restraint broke into a million pieces. The tingles brewing at the base of his spine detonated through his body, rushing pleasure and the thick honey of satisfaction through his blood.

  He leaned over her, shoving his arms under Nicki's slender back and lifting her against him, fusing them together.

  Gasping for breath, he babbled hoarse words beyond his own comprehension and pumped everything he had into her during an endless climax that left him dizzy and spent and somehow raw inside.

  Slowly, he came to a stop. Only their harsh breathing punctuated the silence. And still he couldn't look away from her eyes, now so warm and blue, like the sky on a perfect summer day. Mark wanted to stay and bask here, pretend nothing else mattered or existed.

  Duty warred with the feelings pressing at his chest. The conflict felt like a thousand-pound weight sitting on his ribs. Why? She was just a woman he'd shared the sheets with. Now, it was over.

  He ignored the voice in his head reminding him that, since his divorce, he'd never been inside any one woman as many times as he had Nicki. One-night stands--that's it. Occasionally he went back for easy seconds, never thirds. Never. And he'd never taken a moment to get to know any of them, much less like them the way he liked Nicki's velvet-encased steel personality.

  Worse yet, he began to rise again, his body was already telling him that he wasn't nearly finished with her. The tight squeeze in his chest as he looked at Nicki again, now glowing and soft. Oh, God.

  This was a bad sign. Very bad. With Nicki ... he could get in way over his head. Forget completely that she was not just a woman, but a suspect. He wouldn't lose himself again to another pretty, dangerous face.