by Jo Leigh
She walked over to the farthest window and stared at the view for several moments. Without disturbing her too much, he took her jacket, purse and the bakery box and put them on his big dining table. He stood by her again, quietly letting her look around while he watched her.
She looked beautiful in a demure black dress that hit her midknee. It had some lace up at the top, which was nice, too, but what he liked the most were her fire-engine-red heels.
Damn, he wanted her to like what she saw. He was proud of the place. The work he’d put into it had been significant, and thankfully, Angie had been fine about him keeping it. Maybe if they’d had kids, it would have been different, but this had been his pet project before they’d decided to get married.
“I’m sorry, this is the rudest question I’ve ever asked. But, your business is this good?”
“It’s very good, but this building is owned by my family. Has been for generations. I did a lot of the renovations myself.”
“It’s fantastic.”
“Thank you. Now, if you don’t have any objections, I’d like to kiss you. The anticipation is getting out of hand.”
She turned right into his arms, her smile almost as welcoming as her sparkling eyes.
He meant to approach her with a slow burn that would last through dinner, but the moment she parted her lips for him, he abandoned his plan. Her response was better than he’d hoped for. Their tongues touched and tangled. She met him stroke for stroke as he explored her mouth, sampling her sweetness. As he ran his hands over her, he felt a tremor run all the way down her spine. She pulled him tighter against her body, and now he could feel the vibration through his clothes and hers.
Jesus. She’d just gotten here. The urge to pick her up and take her straight to his bed was strong, but he dialed it down about twenty degrees because that wasn’t all he wanted from her. He hadn’t been a teenager for a long time, although it felt as if he’d suddenly reverted to seventeen.
It was everything he could do to gently disengage from the bonfire he’d started. He didn’t want this to be a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am event. She was worth more than that to him.
“Wine?” he said.
She licked her lips, which didn’t help him cool down at all. “Yes, please.”
“I hope you like Syrah.”
“I do. Very much.”
She walked next to him into the kitchen. “It smells wonderful in here.”
“You hungry?”
Her nod wasn’t all that convincing. But maybe that had to do with the fact that she couldn’t stop staring at him. Of course, he stared right back. He was normally a patient man, but if he didn’t do something soon...
Wine.
He still needed to pour her some. Maybe drink some himself. Talk to the woman. Put her at ease.
She brought her glass up for a toast. “To new adventures.”
He couldn’t argue with that. They clicked and sipped.
“Very nice wine.”
“I’m glad you like it. So, about what you do?”
“Ah. I’m primarily a terminologist. Although I worked for several years as a translator. And I’ve also studied kinesics, interpretations of body language, so sometimes I’m called in to help with that. ”
“I’ve heard of everything but being a terminologist.”
“It’s not a common career. I read a lot of newspapers from around the world, watch current television programming and films from different countries, read novels by international authors and try to keep abreast of all the changes in words, tone and nuance. My colleagues and I do our best to standardize the six languages approved by the UN, but any new information about words and their meanings can help everyone and the process in general.”
“That makes sense. It would be important to understand the nuances when you’re dealing with politicians.”
“Exactly. Nuance can mean the difference between war and peace.”
“With those skills, I’d ask what you’ve learned about me, but I don’t think I want to know.”
Oddly, a pink blush tinted her cheeks before she said, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think good things.”
“Huh. I’m glad.” He wanted to shift the conversation. Although he found her fascinating, he wasn’t sure how his background could possibly stand up to the life she’d lived. “So, how many languages do you speak?”
“Four, including three of the official six languages of the UN.”
“Which are?”
“English, Russian and French.”
“And the fourth?”
“Italian,” she said.
“Whoa. I can barely manage two. English and cussing.”
She laughed. “Having an ear isn’t a requirement of the job, but it helps immensely.”
“What was your first language? I mean, what did you speak while you were growing up?”
“English and French, pretty much equally.”
“You don’t have an accent.” He drank some more wine, offered to top her up, but she waved the bottle away. “Well, not exactly,” he said, “but you sound like you might be from Europe.”
“That’s not an actual accent.”
“I don’t know. There’s a little BBC, a little American newscaster and maybe some French in there.”
Her brow furrowed.
“That first day I met you, when you said ‘accoutrements’...”
“Oh, right. I have a thing for beautiful words in whatever language I find prettiest.” Catherine smiled. “That was excellent pronunciation, by the way.”
“I don’t know why. I can’t seem to get a handle on Italian. I understand most of it. Just can’t form sentences. And here you can speak it. Go ahead, put me to shame.”
Catherine laughed again. Her eyes sparkled and her skin seemed to glow, and he had no idea how much longer he could keep his hands off her.
He took another sip of wine. “You sound as if you really enjoy your work.”
“I do. The UN is exciting and for the most part I like the people I work with. They even offer free classes to all their employees, so I take advantage of their programs.”
“I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve never been there. You’d think I would have, growing up so close.”
“I’ll take you. It’ll be better than the general tour. I know a lot about the design and architecture of the building.”
“Oh, baby, you know what I like.”
The way she looked at him now had nothing at all to do with her job. “I’ve been thinking a lot about tonight,” she said, and moistened her lips. “Ever since you asked me over.”
After putting his glass down, he plucked hers from her hand and set it next to his.
* * *
SHE COULD HARDLY BREATHE, there was so much electricity swirling between them.
The way he caressed her cheek and the sizzling look in his eyes asked her for permission to continue without saying a single word. As she nodded, his other hand went around her waist to pull her close.
He leaned in until she could smell the wine on his breath, but then he surprised her by moving his head lower. Starting with the hollow of her neck, he laid soft, tiny kisses all the way up her neck to her chin.
Her eyes nearly rolled back in their sockets, but she got her bearings quickly when he changed his target. After sweeping his tongue over her bottom lip, he slipped it inside her mouth. She made a sound, something from deep in her chest, which made him hold her tighter. His erection pressed against the top of her thigh and as he made love to her mouth, he shifted until he could rock against the top of her pussy.
“Come to my bed,” he whispered, just before he nipped her right earlobe. “I want to strip you down to your heels. Make you come every way there is.”
The inv
itation lit up more erogenous zones than she’d known she had. She nodded, hitting his nose with her own. It hurt.
“Ow,” he said, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing hold of her buttocks and lifting her up onto the kitchen counter.
She gasped at the move, at his heat, at the hands running up her thighs, sneaking underneath her dress. It allowed her to spread her legs only a bit, but Tony didn’t seem to mind. When he reached the limit of his fingertips, he started pushing up her dress a little at a time.
Her soft gasp made him freeze, but she kissed him again as quickly as she could. She’d thought about undressing for him, but this could be better. It all depended on what he was going to do when the dress reached the top of her thighs.
It was interesting to kiss his smile. Had she honestly never kissed a man who was grinning? Because she could, she traced the edges of his upturned lips with her tongue.
That made him moan, which made her want to squeeze her legs together. Of course she couldn’t, which turned out to be surprisingly hot. He kept inching her dress up, but unless she balanced on her hands he wasn’t going to succeed. “Tony?”
“Hmm?” He nibbled at a very tender spot below her ear.
“The dress is too long for this to work.”
His lips stopped moving. “I really liked this idea. It was supposed to make you swoon.”
“You succeeded too well, I think...” She slipped her hands between them and began unbuttoning his silky shirt. It wasn’t easy, but she was determined. When she’d done as much as she could, her hand slid down over his pants so she could feel his length. And girth. Impressive. As was the growl in his moan.
For a moment, he barely moved, except for his quickening breath. She could probably make him come like this, just rubbing him off, but that was for another time.
She slid her hand up again, and he huffed a deep breath as she pulled his shirt free of his pants. That spurred him into a whole new gear.
After helping her down from the counter, he took her hand and walked her through the dining room, down a hallway with several doors, all the way back to the master suite.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, his mouth meeting hers, opening, parting, then finding her again at a different angle.
“Me, too,” she whispered.
Tony took hold of the hem of her dress, abandoning his slow pace. He bunched the material in his hand and pulled the dress up to midthigh, while kissing her hard and deep.
Her breath caught, and she wasn’t at all sure how long she could remain standing. Wet and aching, desperately wanting them both naked, she got busy with his shirt once more.
Warm fingers moved up her stocking, pausing as he reached the lace at the top. “What’s this?” he said, his voice lower and a good deal rougher.
“I’ll bet you can figure it out.”
He met her gaze with very dark eyes and a slightly furrowed brow. He stared, unblinking, as he explored what he couldn’t see.
The second he realized there was almost nothing above the thigh-high stockings, his eyes widened. “Are you...”
She grinned at him, finally getting his belt out of the way. Before she could get hold of his top pants button, he dropped. Straight down so that he was eye level with her crotch, although he was looking up at her face.
Carefully, he reached his right hand underneath her dress and ran one finger across the top of her stocking. His gaze didn’t waver, not even a flicker, and she couldn’t help but spread her legs a little more, her heart beating strong and fast in her chest. Still, he didn’t look. He felt.
The clever man moved his hand to her side and ran it up until he reached the satin string on her hip. “I’m going to say...red.”
She lifted her eyebrows, not willing to give anything away. But instead of verifying his guess, he surprised her again. He followed the crease between thigh and torso until two fingers slipped underneath the tiny patch of silk that was the biggest part of her thong. She inhaled sharply as he skimmed her trimmed lower lips, then dipped inside.
“God,” she whispered, finding this game unbearably sexy.
“Oh, Christ, you’re so ready for me.”
“Sometimes teasing is nice,” she said, putting her hand on the back of his head.
“And sometimes, one of us can’t crouch down like this without hurting ourselves.” He winced, and used his left hand to adjust his fly. He also slid his fingers out of her, then rose, taking her dress with him. She lifted her arms and a moment later she was in her heels, lace-trimmed stockings, itty-bitty red thong and a ridiculously expensive matching red demi bra.
Tony’s groan sounded as if it had risen all the way from his toes. “You are stunning,” he said, “and I can’t take it for one more second.”
Before she could make sense of what he’d said, he yanked the comforter back so hard it nearly flew off the mattress. Then she was in his arms, being settled on his king-size bed so her head rested on his pillow.
He stripped in what had to be record time, and okay, she hadn’t underestimated his enthusiasm. His cock was hard, standing so tall it brushed the skin below his belly button. He rubbed it once, baring his teeth, then held his arms down, his hands fisted by his sides. “What do you want?”
“You, in the bed with me,” she said, scooting over a few inches.
“Is that all?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “For starters.”
7
TONY OPENED HIS bedside drawer and pulled out a bunch of condoms, which he dumped on top of the table, then snatched one back just as he climbed onto the bed. He was at the edge of being too turned on. The same woman who’d worn the black skirt and white blouse was about to be all his, looking as sexy as anything he’d ever seen.
He’d meant to have dinner first. Talk more. Get to know each other better. What an idiot. Of course he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. Or his mouth. Although he supposed this was just another way of becoming acquainted.
Moving closer, he looked at her again in her tiny bra and thong, and his cock jerked, insistent that he get on with it. He couldn’t argue the point. Although damn it, he wasn’t going to last.
“I meant,” he said, as he touched her chest with his fingertips, tracing the skin above her bra, “what do you want?”
She reached for his hand, then guided his fingers underneath the bra. Her nipple was hard, and he wanted to taste it. He used his knuckles to push down the red satin until he could see his targets. Mesmerized, he found his mouth watering as he got closer, until he was able to touch that peaked flesh with the tip of his tongue.
Her gasp wasn’t loud, but it hit him hard. He sucked the nub between his lips, swirled his tongue, ached for the bra to be off, for all of her to be spread out for him.
The way her back arched when he flicked her nipple made him ache, but he had to stop, do something about his cock before he had an accident.
He reared up, tore open the condom, hissed as he rolled it down onto his cock. “Please don’t think this is my usual tempo,” he said, as he moved himself between her thighs. “I swear I can take my time. Just not now.”
“Thank God,” she said, arching again, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. “I’m about ready to burst, myself.”
He grinned, bumped into the patch of thong covering her pussy and quickly shoved that to the side. “Damn it, Catherine,” he said, holding himself carefully as he rubbed between her lips. “So hot, so wet. I can’t—”
The moment he dipped inside her, it was almost all over. Somehow, he managed to enter her completely, feeling the tight sweet heat grip him until white spots hit him behind his eyelids. He hadn’t remembered closing his eyes, and he rectified that instantly, needing to see.
She stole his breath, literally. He couldn’t breathe for a long, lo
ng moment, and then she gasped as he began to move. Every part of him wanted to push with all his might, but he controlled himself. At first.
Then she lifted her hips to meet him on the next thrust, and all his noble ideas went to hell.
Her mouth opened as he thrust into her, balancing on his knees and one hand, teasing her nipple with the other. He wanted to kiss her, but couldn’t seem to make that work, so he just stared at the flush that painted her cheeks pink, the sounds—moans mixed with higher-pitched cries—all of them turning him inside out.
He just couldn’t hold back another minute.
Needing to hold on to the bed, he let go of her breast. Once he was grounded, she met him thrust for thrust, groan for groan. Her hair spilled all over his pillow, her legs wrapped around his hips and nothing existed except their bodies and his desperate need to stay inside her all night long.
He lasted longer than he’d thought possible. Until she made an unearthly sound and nearly bucked him off. His orgasm nearly made him black out, it was so strong. He could barely hear, the blood rushing too loudly in his ears, couldn’t see, with the flashes that hit behind his eyes.
Then...stillness.
He was in her as far as he could possibly go. Her back arched and her nails gripped his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Although her lips had parted, no sounds escaped except for her rapid, desperate breaths.
Finally, he inhaled, so deeply it felt like fire in his lungs, and pulled out before he fell like a log on top of her.
Luckily, he didn’t land on anything important. The two of them sounded as if they’d just run a marathon, but the high was infinitely better. He threaded his fingers through hers. “You okay?”
She turned her head so they were looking right at each other. “More than.”
“Good.”
“But a little shivery.”
“Right. I’m going to get up. Really, really soon and get the comforter over you.”