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The Bet

Page 6

by Lucinda Betts


  “This is what I want,” she gasped.

  She ran her hand down his back and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. He grunted in agreement.

  While caressing his chest with her breasts, she asked, “You know what that means?”

  He ran his hands down her back and over her ass. “Don’t leave.” It was almost a plea.

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know,” she said, lifting a breast to his hungry mouth. “The ‘no penetration’ clause is now officially null and void.”

  He groaned and ran his fingers between her legs. As he slid inside, mere millimeters, she backed away and said, “Take off your shorts.”

  He did, and when her eyes landed on his cock, she saw desire in his eyes.

  “It’s nice to give an occasional order,” she said.

  He stood there as she flattened herself against the bed. She spread her legs to give him a glimpse of herself, teasing him. As she opened her mouth in anticipation for his broad purpled head, he groaned again. She took him in without hesitation.

  The suction, the swirling—within moments he pulled her up. “Stop, please.” His voice was hoarse. “Not like this.” She tugged him with one more suck, and he pounced on her. Or maybe she pounced on him. She couldn’t tell.

  Between kisses, she heard him gasping her name. It did something to her. It melted her completely. While she’d been busy fighting her pride, he’d found a way to her heart.

  He fumbled in the drawer for a condom and slid it on. She was wet and she was ready, but he didn’t rush in. He pulled her so that she straddled him. His cock pulsated against her sex. He moved his mouth from hers, downward.

  Knowing what he wanted, she pushed a breast to his mouth. She was so willing, so willing.

  As he licked and sucked and bit at the stiff nipple, desire coiled in a tight ball in her belly. She twisted to present her other breast to his mouth, enjoying the shift in pressure of his cock against her clit. He obliged, hungrily, grazing his teeth against the other nipple and pressing harder against her.

  “Now,” she said, at the same time that he said, “Now.”

  “Yes,” she moaned, pushing herself toward him. His hands encircled her tiny waist and pulled her fully on top of him. He thrust his hips upward in an invitation that she accepted. Ravenous, Zoe wrapped her legs more tightly around his hips, caught hold of his cock, and lifted herself just right. Tightening her thighs, she grabbed him and pulled until he sank into her, spreading her, filling her deliciously full. She shuddered.

  She felt him shudder, too.

  “God, Zoe . . .” Phillip pushed her onto her back, pushing more deeply inside of her. She felt her muscles clamping onto him.

  The magnitude of his desire for her filled her. Under him, she began to work, meeting each of his thrusts. She could hardly bear the pleasure of the penetration, and she hoped he was as close to ecstasy as she was.

  Gasping, she couldn’t look away from his face. She saw his jaw flex in an effort to control himself. Forced to keep her strokes short with his body on top of hers, she let his cock sink deliciously inside of her. Suddenly, she knew she was one nudge, one feather touch, away.

  Phillip roared, “I need to . . . !”

  She thrust herself up and he thrust down one more fulfilling drive.

  “Phillip!” she cried, as the orgasm sizzled across her nerves in a delicious explosion.

  Deep inside her, she could feel the pulsing of his thick cock.

  Later, as they clung together in the sea of his bed, she ran her hand over his chest, thighs, wherever she could reach. The planes of his body fascinated her.

  “Mmmmm. That was . . .” She couldn’t think of anything good enough.

  “Yeah,” he agreed groggily.

  “Having you inside of me felt great.”

  He whispered in her ear, “Do I have to keep winning bets to get you into bed?”

  Just then, she knew she’d never be able to think of herself as the Ice Queen again. But where did that leave her at the firm? She just didn’t want to think about that yet.

  “Sorry,” she said, teasingly. “We have to skip the second date.”

  “Why?” He sounded so horrified that she grinned.

  “I really don’t want to be spanked.”

  He ran his palm over her ass, caressing, promising. “You’re all talk, Lauterborn. You don’t even know yourself yet.”

  “You keep saying that,” she said, as if she doubted him.

  “Okay,” Phillip said, relenting with a tired grin. “We’ll save it for the third date.”

  “Bastard,” she said, sweetly, getting up.

  She walked around the bed and tripped over the clock. It read 11:45.

  “You bastard.” This time her tone was not sweet—not at all. “You lied to me.”

  “What?”

  “ ‘No penetration’ remember?”

  “But you wanted it.”

  “I don’t remember that as part of the terms.”

  “Zoe—”

  “There’s only one solution to this.”

  Phillip sat up, scratching his head, looking extremely displeased. “What’s that?”

  “Let’s see if it’s just as good after twelve.” Zoe climbed back in bed.

  9

  “Hey, Lauterborn,” Paul Thompson said. His tall, lanky frame filled the entrance to her new office. “You look different.” At her expression, he laughed. “No, in a good way!”

  “Can we lose this last-name thing?”

  “Sure, boss,” he said. “So? Did you get contacts?”

  “Forget it,” she said smiling. “Thanks for coming over. Have a seat.”

  “What’s up?”

  “We need someone to talk to the head of Freedom Mutual and soothe him. He needs a careful touch, but from a man.”

  “You want me to do it?” Paul asked doubtfully. “Adler’s kind of . . .”

  Zoe watched him search for a political word. “Prickly?” she suggested.

  “Yeah, prickly.”

  “You think you can do it?”

  “Maybe.” Paul paused and said, “What do we know about him?”

  “He’s worried about rising interest rates, and he’s right to be worried. The Feds keep threatening to up the rates. We need him to focus on the long term, quit watching the Fed chairman.”

  “Long term’s our strength,” Paul said, repeating the company mantra.

  “Exactly! Can you get him to understand that? I mean without bullying him.”

  “It’s hard not to push him,” Paul mused. “He’s so stubborn.”

  “You’re young and hip. Make him feel cool.” Zoe looked at the ceiling for a minute then said, “You’ve got to make him think it’s his idea. Make him think he was always focused on long-term payoffs.”

  “I can do that,” he said, with growing assurance.

  “I think so, too.”

  “Thanks.” Paul looked pleased at her vote of confidence.

  “Can you call him at three?”

  “Sure. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Paul stood to leave. “Oh,” he said. “Marci and I are going to Lucky Chan’s tonight. You want to come with us?”

  “Sounds like fun.” Marci worked in accounting, and her dry sense of humor appealed to Zoe. Marci and Paul were becoming something of a couple. “But I’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Hot date, huh?”

  “Maybe,” she said, playfully.

  “Bring him along. The more the merrier.”

  “He’s got something special planned, he says.”

  “Phillip’s a lucky guy.” Paul started to walk away.

  “Hey, Paul?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s not contacts. I’m wearing my hair down.”

  Zoe checked her clock and stood. She had just enough time for a lipstick check before the next meeting. His husky voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “I’d love to be that tiny strap
around your ankle.” His voice was so low only she could hear him. “I’d find a way to slither up—”

  “Phillip, how do you handle a single fund?” she teased. “You’re always thinking about—”

  “You.” The deep affection in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

  She refrained from caressing his neck, barely.

  “What’d you do to make Paul so happy?” Phillip asked.

  “Is he happy?”

  “He was singing his way down the hallway.”

  Zoe laughed. “I’m lucky to have him on the team. I gave him a difficult job that I knew he could do.

  “Brilliant.” He grinned, suggestively. “Think you could handle me that well?”

  “I’ve done a pretty good job so far,” she said lightly.

  “I think so, too.”

  Zoe smiled and walked away. Over her shoulder she said, “Go manage something, Phillip.”

  “Congratulations,” said Phillip, as they strolled around the Washington Square Park fountain. “You’re an amazing boss.” His honest pleasure made her heart expand, filling her chest. She knew a weaker man would have been jealous.

  “Thanks.”

  “Partnerships are becoming second nature for you.”

  Something in his tone grabbed her attention.

  “This is it.” Phillip pointed toward the bench they’d used on that spring night.

  “Oh,” said Zoe. A streak of heat raced through—the passion of his touch always did that to her.

  “You didn’t mind losing that bet so much,” Phillip reminded her, tugging her next to him on the bench. He enveloped her hand in both of his. She savored the warmth of it.

  At the end of the day, she hadn’t minded losing. “No,” she agreed. “I like who I am with you. I like us together.”

  “I love you, Zoe.” He pulled her into his arms and held her a moment without speaking. She inhaled deeply, loving the masculine scent of him, the safety of his embrace. “Do I have to ask your father first?” Could she hear a smile in his voice?

  “You can ask, but he’ll just laugh. He knows it’s up to me—to us.” Her heart was pounding double-time now.

  “In that case . . .” Phillip slid from the bench and on to one knee.

  “Oh,” Zoe said, her eyes widening with growing joy.

  He cleared his throat. “Zoe Lynn,” Phillip said, pulling a small box from his pocket.

  Tiffany’s trademark blue bow caught her attention, and the magnitude of the moment made her heart nearly stop. She wanted to capture this feeling forever in her memory. Zoe looked away, seeing a sliver of sinking sun between a forest of skyscrapers. She couldn’t look away from the light.

  Phillip opened the box and handed it to her. “Will you marry me?”

  APHRODISIA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  The Bet copyright © 2006 by Lucinda Betts

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Aphrodisia and the A logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-6177-3732-9

 

 

 


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