by Sarah Morgan
“I’m watching out for you. I’m here to save you from yourself.” He ignored the little voice inside him that told him his intervention had little to do with her and everything to do with him.
“Did I look as if I needed saving?”
“Eva, he’s a serial heartbreaker. And he has a wife.”
“I know.”
“You do? How?”
“He has a pale ring of skin on the finger where his wedding ring should be. Proof that he only takes it off when it is no longer convenient to be married.” She sighed and slid her arm into his. “I’m touched that you cared enough to come shooting over here to save me. It’s a lovely trait, but I’ve been dealing with guys like him since I was a teenager. Guys who stare at my chest and my hair and assume I can’t string a sentence together.”
“A first meeting in a place like this is almost always predicated on sexual attraction.”
“True, but I can tell when a guy just wants to get inside my pants and when someone actually likes me enough to want to know me better.” Her smile dimmed. “It’s probably the reason I’ve been celibate for so long. The sad truth is, most men don’t want to know me better, so that probably makes me an idealist.”
He thought it made them idiots, but didn’t say so.
He didn’t want to think about them at all.
He let go of her hand, and slid his hand around her waist. “Let’s dance.”
“You hate dancing. You only suggested that to get me away from Marauding Michael.”
“But you love dancing.”
“I do. That’s the main reason I wanted to come tonight. I want to dance until my feet hurt and my head is spinning.”
He could think of a hundred ways to make her head spin that had nothing to do with dancing, but he pushed the thought down quickly. “So let’s dance.”
Several men were looking at her and Lucas swept her onto the dance floor before one of them had a chance to claim her.
He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have punched them and laid them out cold.
Eva put her hand on his shoulder, keeping a respectable distance between them. “I love dancing. I took ballet classes until I was fourteen.”
“I bet you danced the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy?”
“Yes, but how did you—?”
“Never mind.”
“Grams used to take me to watch the New York City Ballet every Christmas. It was our routine, and I loved it. Snowflakes, glitter and beautiful music. It always put me in a Christmassy mood. I used to come home and twirl and wish I was a proper ballerina.”
He looked down at her, imagining her in pink tights and shiny ballet shoes, dancing in a dream. And he wondered how she’d made it to adulthood without losing those shiny illusions about life and people.
She danced as she had in the kitchen, her movements smooth and fluid, her hair spinning around her bare shoulders, her megawatt smile lighting her face.
“This is so much fun.”
He didn’t disagree. “It’s certainly a lot better than making small talk with boring people.”
“You’re very rude.”
“I am. You’d probably be well-advised to avoid me.”
“I tried that. But apparently you can’t resist interfering with my love life. And I have to watch you closely so that you don’t end up being tomorrow’s headline.”
Their efforts to talk above the music brought them closer.
“Do you blame me? You’re reckless, and I made a promise to your friend Frankie.”
“I’m an excellent judge of character.”
“If you research homicides, you’ll discover that most people are killed by someone they know.”
She pulled away slightly, her eyes bright with exasperation. “We’re at a ball, Lucas. A dreamy, romantic ball. And you’re telling me I’m going to be murdered by one of my friends?”
“I’m telling you that if you were murdered, it would, in all likelihood, be by someone you knew. I’m trying to educate you. Encourage a little caution.”
“You have a twisted view of life. And we’re having one dance, that’s all. First because if I talk to you for too long I’ll have to sleep with the lights on, and second because if I’m dancing with you I’m never going to meet anyone. And neither are you.”
The music slowed and Lucas expected her to pull away but instead she leaned her head on his chest and slid her arms around him. Awareness flowed over his skin and seeped into his bones. His mind emptied. His brain felt slow and heavy and he couldn’t find any words that seemed to fit the occasion, but fortunately Eva had plenty to say.
“Have you made a New Year’s resolution yet? Because if not, I have the perfect one for you.” She was soft and pliant, her body melting into his.
“I can guess what it is,” he managed to respond, which he saw as an achievement given that he could hardly breathe.
“I’m sure you can’t.” She rested her palm on his chest, over his heart, and looked up at him.
“You want me to promise to get out there and start dating.”
“Wrong. I want you to stop always looking for a person’s hidden bad side.”
“It’s the way I’m made. It’s not something I can turn off.”
“Of course it is. Your work has made you that way. You need to make a distinction between work and real life.”
They swayed together, eyes locked, insulated from the people around them.
“If I told you to start being more suspicious of people, could you?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think it would be a very nice way to live.” She snuggled closer and he tensed and then let his hand slide to her back.
He felt the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
The dress he’d bought her. Silk and sin.
Giving up on restraint, he drew her closer still, molding the soft curves of her body against the hard planes of his. She slid her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. Easy. Natural.
Desire rushed through him, brutal and sharp. He reflected on how a person could want something so badly even knowing it was a mistake.
He should let her go. He should make some flippant comment about needing to talk to people and mingle, but he didn’t. He held her closer, blanketing himself in her warmth, taking what he could, while he could. He didn’t hear the music and he didn’t see the people dancing close to him. He didn’t care what other people thought or what they said. He didn’t want to think about them, or about Sallyanne.
All he cared about was dancing with Eva and making this moment last as long as possible.
It was like lighting a candle in the dark. He didn’t know how long it would take for the flame to burn out, but until it did he was going to savor every moment of the light.
Beams of light played over the ceiling of the room, turning Eva’s hair to shiny gold.
Her head was bowed and all he could see of her face was the sweep of her upturned nose and the soft curve of her mouth.
The music changed again but she showed no sign of wanting to move away and he had no intention of letting her go, so they danced on, locked together, the rhythm of their bodies following the rhythm of the music. He wondered why he’d never before realized that dancing could be almost as intimate and personal as sex.
He felt the light touch of her fingers on the back of his neck and the warmth of her body against his palm, and he knew in that moment that he didn’t want her to go home with anyone else.
He wanted her to go home with him. And it had nothing to do with protecting her. Those reasons would have been selfless and his were all selfish.
Because they were wrapped together so intimately, he was aware of the change in her, too. He could feel it in the way she held herself, in the almost unbearable tension of her slender frame.
“Let’s get out of here.” He murmured the words into her hair, half hoping she’d resist. “Unless you want to stay? This ball was your dream.” He asked the question and felt her
still in his arms.
She lifted her head and he felt the warmth of her breath on his cheek.
“You want to leave?” Her words were a whisper in his ear. “I wanted you to meet someone interesting.”
There was a long silence while they both wordlessly admitted what they already knew.
Finally, when the tension had almost suffocated them, he eased away from her and looked deep into her eyes. “I’m with the only person who interests me.”
She swallowed. “Me, too.”
Pretense, humor, reticence all fell away and were replaced by naked honesty.
They were no longer moving, no longer pretending to dance or be part of the party that swirled around them. They were in their own secluded, private world. Separate. Apart.
Rose pink spread across Eva’s cheeks and her eyes sparkled sapphire blue under the lights. “Let’s go.” She took his hand but still Lucas paused, held back by the knowledge they were about to do something that couldn’t be undone.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure? Oh, Lucas—” She touched his face with her palm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Eleven
Always be good, unless being bad looks like more fun.
—Eva
They kept a distance from each other in the car, neither of them trusting their ability to control what they were feeling.
Visibly tense, Lucas loosened his bow tie and flicked open the top button of his shirt.
Eva’s gaze slid to his throat. She wasn’t able to look at him without wanting him. “Are you hot?”
The look he gave her was so intimate her insides melted. “Something like that.”
She wondered if they could ask the driver to go a little faster. It was hardly any distance to Lucas’s apartment. They probably could have run there faster than he was driving.
Her hand wandered across to Lucas and he took it in a firm clasp, pressing her palm against the hard muscle of his thigh.
Every touch increased the anticipation. Longing made her shaky and weak.
By the time they eventually arrived at his building she was so desperate to kiss him that she was almost ready to drag him into the park and risk frostbite rather than wait the extra few frustrating minutes while they took the elevator to his apartment.
The moment the elevator doors closed they came together like magnets.
His hand cupped her head and his mouth crushed down on hers, and all she could think was finally, finally. After that, everything blurred. She felt the erotic stroke of his tongue and the urgency of his hands as he shoved her back against the wall of the elevator, trapping her body against his. It was intense, impelling, and so exciting that all she could do was snatch in a breath and hold on.
His kiss bordered on the rough but she didn’t care. She speared the silky strands of his hair with her fingers and drew him closer, desperately trying to drink in more of him. Somewhere in the distance she heard a muted ping and Lucas nudged her out of the elevator without releasing his hold on her.
They fumbled their way into his apartment and as the door swung closed, all restraint left them.
Breathing heavily, he dragged his mouth from hers and trailed his lips over her jaw and down her throat, his fingers peeling down the tiny straps that held her dress in place. The dress slithered to the floor and she felt the rush of cool air against her heated skin.
With a groan of appreciation, he cupped one of her breasts in his palm, dragging his thumb over the straining peak. She arched into him, feeling the thickened hardness of him pressing against her. Sensation showered on sensation. It was like being caught under a waterfall with no opportunity to catch her breath.
His lips followed his hands and he drew her into the heat of his mouth, the skilled flick of his tongue driving her wild.
“Wait—my purse—” She tried to focus, tried to find the place she’d dropped her clutch, but her head was spinning.
“You don’t need your purse.”
“My condom—”
Swearing under his breath, he drew away from her just long enough to locate and rescue her purse. He pushed it into her hands and then swung her and the purse into his arms.
“Where are we going?”
“Bed.”
“The wall works just fine for me.” Her need for him eclipsed everything.
She couldn’t have said how they made it from the door to his bedroom, as she was too busy kissing her way down the roughness of his jaw, exploring hard lines and male textures.
He lowered her to the floor, the power of his body steadying hers as she stood on shaky legs. She felt him, hard and ready, through the thin fabric of her underwear and closed her fingers in the front of his shirt.
“Now. Now. Now—” She repeated the word over and over again like a mantra and he crushed his mouth to hers to silence her, his rough “no” muted by the pressure of his lips on hers.
She ran her hands down his back. “Don’t make me wait. It’s been a while.”
“All the more reason why it’s worth doing this properly.” His hands were in her hair, his mouth on hers and they kissed, both of them insatiable, as if the erotic dance of tongues and the heated exchange of breath were necessary for life.
It was the first time she’d been inside Lucas’s bedroom, but she didn’t even look at it. She could have been anywhere, for all the attention she paid to her surroundings. Her whole world was him, and she couldn’t look away from the molten burn of desire in his eyes.
She slid her hand down his body and covered the thickness of him with the flat of her hand. The intimacy of that touch seemed to shock him from the frenzy that consumed them both.
“This is crazy.” He groaned the words against her mouth. “You want true love, and I’m not Prince Charming.”
“Prince Charming was a weird stalker guy with a foot fetish.” Breathless, she locked both hands behind his neck to stop him pulling away. “You taught me that.”
“But he married the girl.”
“I don’t want to marry you. I just want you to give me an orgasm.”
“Just the one? You have low expectations.” His mouth was back on hers, his kiss skilled and deliciously explicit.
Had a kiss ever felt like this before? No. Never.
She tugged his shirt from the waistband of his trousers and he caught her hand, his breathing ragged.
“Eva—”
“I want this.” And then it occurred to her through the mists of desire that perhaps he was looking for a reason to stop. “How about you?”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I want this.”
“In that case—” She hooked her leg behind his and a second later he was on his back on the bed staring up at her.
“What the hell was that?”
“That,” she said proudly as she straddled him, “was my deadly move.” She reached down and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. “I need you naked.” Her fingers slid on the fabric and she gave a growl of frustration and lowered her hands to his zipper instead. “Forget it. Naked is overrated.”
She heard him swear under his breath and then he covered her hands with his and helped her finish the job. His clothes hit the floor and she felt another stab of desire as she ran her hands over powerful male muscle.
It had been so long since she’d had a relationship that had gone beyond a conversation and a kiss. So long since she’d been naked with a man. Since she’d touched and been touched.
Maybe she should have been nervous, but she wasn’t. She’d never wanted anything more in her life.
He flipped her onto her back and shifted himself over her, pinning her there with his weight.
Breathless, she slid her hand over his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Can’t stand a woman on top?”
“It’s the only way I can slow this down. You wanted an orgasm. I’m here to make sure it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had.”
“Honestly, any orgasm would be good.” She was squirmin
g under him but he pinned her flat, holding her still.
“You need to lift your ambitions, sweetheart. Never settle for good when you can have great.”
“Okay, but could you just—”
“No.” He silenced her with his mouth. “How we do this is my decision. You’re delegating.”
Just to be sure she got the message, he held both of her hands trapped in one of his as he worked his way down her body, intent on exploring every inch of her.
She decided he obviously knew a lot about torture.
“Lucas—please—”
His response was to peel away her underwear and spread her legs.
He ignored her muted protest just as he’d ignored her plea for haste.
He explored her, the intimate stroke of his tongue arousing her to a peak she’d never known before. It was almost impossible not to move, not to squirm, but he held her trapped, totally at his mercy.
She felt the gentle slide of his fingers inside her and held her breath as he drove her higher and higher with a relentless patience and skill that left her writhing and desperate.
She came in a shower of blinding pleasure, her cries filling the room.
Afterward she felt weak and limp. Emotion overwhelmed her. Tears filled her eyes and she kept them tightly shut, not daring to look at him in case the swell of feeling spilled over.
She felt him shift up her body, felt the rough hair on his chest graze the sensitive tips of her breasts.
“Look at me.” His soft command made her open her eyes.
She hoped he couldn’t see the shine in them. “Thank you—”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m just getting started.” He brushed his lips over hers one more time and then leaned across to grab something from the nightstand.
She tugged at his shoulder. “Is that my condom?”
“No, but don’t worry, we’ll get to that one later. We have all night.” His voice was husky and raw with desire and her stomach flipped.
All night.
“Lucas.” She breathed his name, her heart racing as she felt the thickened length of him brush against her intimately. “I know you like keeping people in suspense, but—”
“Suspense can be overrated.” He slid his hand under her bottom and entered her slowly, taking his time, his gaze holding hers as he filled her, coaxing her body to take all of him.