Whoa, what was that last part ? Viv reminded herself that her heart couldn't carry a tune. It didn't even lip-sync properly.
He's a dog lover, too, and he's got land for greyhounds. I can soften hint up, I know I can
" . . . and so you should definitely take me back to your Marvelous Marv's motel room," J.B. was saying, still making his case. "It's only justice," he added. "And you and I both exist to serve Justice." He winked.
How could she not wink back at him? She felt herself melting into him on the sofa as his arm snaked around her shoulders, his fingers dipped inside her collar and he brushed his lips against her ear. She shivered with pleasure. Serving Justice has never felt so good .
Viv raised her glass, which held maybe two more tablespoons, in a toast. "To Justice," she said. "Let's get another bottle to go."
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
Viv tried to ignore the ugliness of Marv's Motor Inn as she and J.B. turned in to the rear parking lot and prepared to sneak in the back entrance. She really didn't relish running into Julia.
J.B. grinned at her as he cut the engine. "We gonna count some sheep for cheap, Vivvie?"
"God, I hope not," she retorted. "Unless your technique's gotten so bad that you'll put me to sleep." She'd slid out of her seat and had rounded the front of the truck when he caught her in a firm grasp, angled his head over hers and took her mouth. He backed her up against the front of the truck with a noise akin to a growl, plucked her off the ground and sat her on the hot hood with himself between her knees.
Viv emitted a bona fide squeak, a noise very uncharacteristic of her. Warmed by both the Texas sun and the engine inside, the metal burned right through her panties, through her skirt, and practically singed her buns. She tore her mouth from his. "Hot!" she yelped.
"Feeling sleepy?" J.B. asked.
"No."
He clasped his hands around her rear end and pulled hard, so that he tugged her snug against the bulge in his jeans. Then he ground into her, watching for her response.
A flash of heat shot to her center and Viv's mouth opened slightly with pleasure. J.B. swooped down and licked between her lips, rocking his pelvis against her at the same time. He scooped her off the truck, sliding his hands under her skirt until he had two handfuls of tush. He kneaded and squeezed as if he couldn't get enough.
His razor stubble scraped her face and she gasped as he released her mouth, tipped her back, and took a large mouthful of breast right through her skimpy tank and bra.
"Room key," he said against her, his lips still nuzzling.
And he moved a hand inward, to stroke slick, forbidden parts that shouldn't be fondled in public.
A keening sound came out of her mouth but she didn't care as his thumb moved back and forth and she started to come apart.
"Oh no you don't," said J.B., and the bastard set her down on legs that now wouldn't support her. "You're not going there for a while yet." He grinned wolfishly.
She restrained herself from smacking him, exhaled in a hiss and dug into her pocketbook for the blasted key, which she slapped into his palm without a word. Her only consolation was that judging by the rocket that had launched inside his pants, he was having trouble walking, too.
They made it to her room and fell inside, J.B. kicking the door closed with his boot. He threw her onto the bed and stood, hands on his hips, looking down at her.
Her arms were spread wide, the heels of her sandals dug into the bedspread and mattress, her thighs were splayed and her skirt was rucked up. He had a great view straight up of her turquoise silk panties, and she had a serious wedgie.
A smile played over his lips. "Your panties match your eyes, Vivvie."
She had the- urge to close her legs and block his gaze, but didn't. She enjoyed seeing him turned on.
"Take off everything except your panties and your sandals." It wasn't really a requestit was more a command. And nobody told Vivien Shelton what to do. But she obeyed, slipping her tank over her head and unfastening her bra.
His breathing quickened as she tossed it onto the floor, for once not thinking of the grungy, nasty orange carpet and whatever lived in it.
Her breasts were exposed to his gaze, and her nipples hardened without him even touching her. She was still so aroused that the slightest provocation would send her tumbling over the edge.
"Now take off your skirt," he said, in a curiously thick voice.
She sat up, moved to the edge of the bed and un-buttoned the waistband. She brought her knees together and slipped the skirt off, and it joined her bra on the floor.
"Open your thighs"
She did.
"Touch your breasts for me."
She hesitated.
"Please."
She moved her hands awkwardly to them, lifted them and caressed them with her fingers. "But I want you to touch them," she whispered.
"You want me?"
She nodded.
"Say it."
"I want you, J.B. You can't imagine how much." She rose off the bed and walked to him, kissed him boldly and ran her hands down his own nipples, across his chest and down to his abdomen. She unbuckled his belt, undid his fly, tugged the shirt from his waistband and slipped her hands under it to feel his hot skin and all the lovely muscle underneath. He sucked in a breath at her touch and she could feel his heart beating, his pulse kicked up and his nerves on edge.
She unbuttoned his shirt and dropped her lips to a small, flat, coppery nipple, sucking at it and teasing it with her tongue. At his shaky exhale and soft groan, she switched to the other one, nipping at it with her teeth and raking her nails gently down his back.
"You're a witch," he whispered. "I haven't stopped thinking of this for three years." He took her by the upper arms and stared down at her. "A witch," he repeated.
"Good witch or bad?"
He chuckled. "Some days you wear white, lacy thigh-highs in my head. Others you've got red-and-white-striped stockings and pointed black shoes."
"Is that all I wear?"
"Yeah. Pretty much." He took her chin in his hands and kissed her. "Did you think about me at all, Vivvie? Hmmmmm?"
She closed her eyes, knowing that if she kept them open they'd slide away from his. Her lips still under -his, she shook her head.
"I don't believe you," said J.B. when he broke the kiss. "You at least strutted into your office and told the girls around the watercooler about your conquest and how you threw him out when you were done."
"I did not!" she said indignantly. "I never even told Julia, until"
"But you did think about me." He looked into her eyes, followed them as they slid left and then right.
"Not until I saw you again." She remained stubborn.
J.B. ran his hands through her hair, dropped them to her shoulders and then palmed her breasts. Instantly her body went on full alert, and when he lifted one to his mouth and drew hard on her nipple, she made a soft, unintelligible cry. She pressed her breast against his lips, hungry for his hunger and touched by his touch. He devoured it, loved it well and went for the other one.
When she could barely stand for wanting him, he pushed her gently down on the bed and eased her thighs apart. "So beautiful," he said, kneeling in front of her. And then he bent his head to the most intimate part of her, taking a large bite through the silk of her panties.
Viv gave a real cry this time, hoarse and helpless. "Did you think about me, honey?" he asked, and then buried his face in her again.
When he raised his head she tossed restlessly. "Tell me the truth, now." He slid the turquoise fabric to the side and entered her with his tongue.
"Yes!" She clutched at the bedspread with one hand, his shoulder with the other. "Oh, yes"
"Yes, you thought about me, or yes, you like that? Remember, I can stop at any time." He bent his head to her again.
Waves of pleasure engulfed her. "Yes," she panted. "I thought about you. I almost called you Oh, God! But then there was no point Ohhhhhhh
hh."
He stopped. "No point?"
"Please," she whispered. "Please, please don't stop. Ahhh! Youyou lived in Texas, and I lived in Manhattan, andoh, God, J.B."
She came apart, colors bursting behind her eyelids, and she fell down, down and down until she opened her eyes to find him grinning in satisfaction. "Did your toes curl, honey?"
"Aaahhhh."
"I think that was an answer in the affirmative," he said. She nodded weakly.
He stood over her, between her knees, his hands on his hips again. And he frowned. "Now. You ever hear of a modern device called an airplane, Shelton?"
She blinked at the anger she saw on his face and tried to reconcile it with the generosity of the man who'd just given her ultimate pleasure.
"A large mechanical device with wings that transports people back and forth between states?"
She wet her lips as he threw off his clothes and stood in front of her magnificent and naked and not happy with her. "J.B., it's more complicated than that." She sat up and reached for him. "Come here? Please?"
He only had the willpower to hesitate so long. He stalked toward her looking as if he wielded a weapon. She kissed it, and in her hands it became even harder and angrier-looking.
Viv got up and pushed him onto the bed this time, where he sat at the corner and couldn't resist once again touching her breasts. She straddled him, rubbed them against his chest and sank down upon him. She took his anger and his sex deep inside her and let them stretch and fill her.
She rose and fell, bracing her hands on his shoulders, feeling liquid heat build within her until she thought she'd melt into a human puddle of pure bliss.
She rode his anger until it transformed into exultation and he cursed and then shouted her name, convulsing inside her and wrapping his hands around her hips as if he'd never let her go.
* * *
Chapter Fifteen
J.B. came back to reality slowly and inhaled the sweet fragrance of Viv's dark hair, which lay in a soft curtain over his face. Her breasts pillowed her on his chest, but he could feel her heart beating triple-time against him.
He was still buried to the hilt in her, and when she tried to move off him he held her immobile. He didn't want to relinquish her soft mellowness or her muscular heat to the no-nonsense Tough Girl who ran her personality.
It was the Tough Girl who attracted him, though drove him crazy, challenged him, made her worthwhile. To a man who'd been chased by women since he was a toddler, a guy who'd been coveted and schemed for and often embarrassed over feminine reactions to him, Viv was foreign, indomitable and supremely desirable.
Oh, he'd had women feign indifference to him as part of an act but that was different. And he'd been through Corinne leaving him, which was cer tainly a first. But Viv was in a class by herself. In fact, she was world-class.
J.B. rolled her under him, smiled down at her, and reached a hand out for the clock radio. He clicked it on to a country-western station and moved deep inside her.
Her blue eyes widened and she caught her lip between her teeth. "Isn't he supposed to be done?"
"See what you missed by kicking me out prematurely?" J.B. swelled inside her again as he traced the outer slope of a breast, careful not to touch the nipple, still probably on sensory overload from before.
Slowly, he began to make love to every part of her that was not strictly an erogenous zone, making her shiver and raising the tiny hairs on her neck, arms and thighs. Unfortunately this did require that he pull out, but he satisfied her in a thousand other ways.
He made love to her navel and massaged the muscles in her thighs. He kissed and licked behind her knees, kissing the slightly knobby caps, too. And he noticed that the entire time she should have been melting under his ministrations, she became more and more rigid. It didn't make sense.
He reached her feet and began a deep, strong massage. She sighed in bliss. Then, as if policing herself, she pulled her foot away. "The wine," she said brightly. "We should open our takeout bottle."
He analyzed her expression, which had gone from dreamy to faux cheerfulbut there was something shaky and dark underneath, something he was deter mined to hunt down and pull from its hidey-hole, if necessary by the tail. J.B. planned to examine it gently, like a small frightened animal, soothe it and then let it go.
"All right," he said aloud. He stood, still semierect, and pulled the bottle and a corkscrew out of the bag. He felt Viv's eyes on him as he drew the cork. "Got any glasses?"
She rolled off the bed and gingerly stepped barefoot on the carpet, her expression that of a bushman about to wade through a river of water moccasins. She disappeared into the bathroom and came out eventually with two shrink-wrapped plastic cups. "Our goblets," she said, extending them.
He poured her a hefty cup, surprised to see her down half of it before he'd poured his own. It certainly wasn't like the calm and elegant Vivien to slurp her wine like Kool-Aid.
Did he make her nervous? He couldn't believe it. This woman who fought bloody courtroom battles without a blink, could rake a complete stranger over the coals without thinking about it, and brazenly steal a truckhow could he make her nervous? But there was no other explanation for her behavior. And he found her uncertainty endearing, just like her tangled cloud of normally smooth, controlled dark hair.
Then there was the fact that she'd flown down to see her friend Julia in the middle of a workweek, when he'd bet anything that she was swamped and this was inconvenient as hell. New York firms were some of the best-paying in the country, but they also sucked their employees dry.
Viv met his gaze and quickly looked away.
A slow song came on the radio and he set his own cup down and then commandeered hers, setting it down, too. He snaked an arm around her waist and drew her to him, moving to the rhythm of the music. "May I have this dance?" he murmured.
"J.B., this is a little loony, don't you think?"
"What's the matter, Vivvie? You've never danced naked before?"
"No, I can't say that I have." She was stiff and awkward in his arms.
"Dancing naked is wonderful." He dwarfed her small white hand with his. Supporting her between the shoulder blades, he dipped her backward and kissed her wine-stained lips. "Mmmmrnm. Good vintage. Chateau Shelton's reserve collection, aged thirty-four years."
As he raised her again she asked, "Am I red or white?"
"Oh, definitely red. Bold, spicy and full-bodied, with unexpected hints of sweet cherry and black currant."
"Ah," she said dryly.
"You're delicious and fruity at the center."
"I've never been fruity in my life."
"Whatever you say, Tough Girl." He moved his hands over her shoulders and down her back, feeling knots of tension that hadn't been there a half hour ago. He worked them with his fingers and thumbs as he continued to sway to the music.
Vivien tensed instead of relaxing, her flesh resisting his touch, unable to accept the pleasure.
J.B. moved his hands lower, to the soft globes of her bottom, and worked his magic there for a while. She seemed to respond more to sexual touching. Viv closed her eyes, a good sign. He moved up to her hips and rib cage, then cupped her breasts and felt the nipples nestle against his palms. He moved them in circles until the peaks formed aggressive little buds that he enjoyed tormenting.
Her breath came more quickly now, and she was forgetting to tense up. J.B. turned her in his arms so that her back rested against his chest, and took both heavy breasts into his hands. He kneaded and plucked gently until she began to move her bottom restlessly against his erection. He pushed himself between her buttocks so that he just nuzzled the outside of her cleft. Her swift intake of breath told him of her pleasure, and he moved back and forth against the soft, wet flesh.
Now J.B. brought his hand down and moved tenderly into the curls below her belly. He stroked them and felt her quiver. She arched her back and let a soft moan escape while he played her with fingers, cock and simple affec
tion.
She can't accept the affection without sex . The thought hit him as she begged him to enter her, fell forward onto the edge of the bed, bracing herself with her hands.
He didn't need a second invitation. He wanted to drive in hard and fast, taking savage pleasure in what a beautiful woman offered him. But instead he held back, running his hands over those gorgeous cheeks and tickling, tantalizing the delicate folds di rectly to the front of them. When she arched her back again, pushing against his hand, and made a sound very much like a sob, he finally rolled on a condom and slid inside her, inch by inch, while she went crazy. She tried to back onto him, but he held her forward and kept total control. Only when he was completely sheathed did he allow her to push back, joining them as completely as two people could be joined.
He began to move within her, in and out, and her entire body began to quiver. He was close to giving in to the pleasure when he grasped that something was wrong for him. He couldn't see her eyes, see her face.
This was the most impersonal position they could assume.
As close to climax as he was, and knew she was, this didn't fly with himnot right now. He pulled out, ignoring her protests. Turned her despite them. Laughed softly when she beat on his chest with her fists. Pushed her flat onto her back and mounted her again.
"I want to see you," he whispered. "I want to see those beautiful eyes at the very moment they go cloudy with pure pleasure."
Right now they sparkled with annoyance. But as he pushed her breasts together and took both nipples into his mouth, as he kissed her and drove into her again, the annoyance faded into bliss. Her hips rose to meet him and his thrusts got so powerful that he moved her across the bed.
As tension built again in him and demanded re lease, she let out a series of keening sounds, arched violently, and spasmed uncontrollably against him. What she did not do, he realizedeven as he came himselfwas open her eyes. Even in her most unguarded moments, Vivien avoided intimacy.
First Dance - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 03] Page 14