But none of that was true.
It was him. He just did something to her.
A shiver rolled down her spine. “No, it doesn’t sound like that at all,” she said, trying faintly to deny the way she responded to him.
He nodded vigorously. “Yes, it does. Just listen to that crescendo. It sounds like you when I— ”
She grabbed his thigh and dug in her nails. The contact silenced him, but reminded her of how much she liked contact with him.
Great job, Elle.
Being so close to him was an injection of lust in her bloodstream, and Elle knew what happened when she was ruled by lust. She knew it well, and she had the lifetime of upended choices to show for it.
Not that she regretted anything in retrospect.
Not one bit.
But she was older and wiser now. Wasn’t she?
She must be, because that wisdom was jostling its way to the front of her brain, trying to strike a deal with her body. They’d tangoed, they’d played—they’d done plenty. But she’d only fully had this man a few times. Maybe one more time and she could finally eradicate him from all her thoughts, from the dirty dreams that lasted all night and lingered too long during the day. She could say good-bye to these rampant hormones, and concentrate on her job, her family, and her promises.
There was no reason not to enjoy the final minutes of this evening to the fullest. One last night of passion, then she could move on from this turbulence of longing that engulfed her every time Colin Sloan was near. Let go of the longing, let go of him.
She couldn’t have him in her life, but she could have one more night.
The concert ended, and the crowd applauded; their clapping and cheering rang through the ballroom.
Seize the night. She turned to face him. Arched an eyebrow. Took on his challenge.
Forget poker. She had other plans now. “So what’s the new tattoo, Colin? You ready to show me?”
His eyes glinted with desire and satisfaction. “I will be after I take care of you first.”
CHAPTER THREE
Moonlight bathed the patio at the Venetian. Slivers of silvery light reflected on the turquoise waters as he led her across the terrace to a secluded corner, behind planted palm trees, low stone walls, and hedges that framed the array of small pools.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He nodded to the farthest corner, which boasted a tented cabana. “The after party for the benefit will be here on the private pool deck. But it doesn’t start for a little while, so it’s all ours for now.”
“Except for the bartender setting up, and the waiters and waitresses,” she whispered, gesturing to the bar they’d passed near the front entrance of the deck.
The patio was lush with greenery and fountains, like a New Orleans hotel courtyard. A warm July breeze stirred the foliage as Colin walked past, focused intently on his goal. He’d spotted the cabana only seconds ago, when they’d entered the pool area. He hadn’t mapped out a location for an evening tryst. If he had, this would never have happened. With Elle, he had to take things as they came, moment by moment.
Luck and improvisation were his companions when it came to this woman.
That, and privacy. The cabana was all the way on the other side of the deck, away from the set-up crew.
Glancing behind him to make sure the coast was clear, he held open the flap to the cabana, and she walked in, turning in a circle, taking in the dimly lit tent with a handful of lounge chairs centered around a glass table. “Are we allowed to be here as they get ready?”
“No clue,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m not afraid to break a few rules.”
“You’re trouble,” she said, shaking her head.
“Yes, but you know that about me. Besides, you like trouble.”
“Too much for my own good,” she mumbled.
He pressed a finger gently to her lips. “Not tonight. No talk tonight of why we’re a bad idea.”
She bit her lip then flicked her tongue against his finger. A mischievous look flitted across her eyes.
He nodded, encouraging her to let go. “That’s right. Tonight we’re a good idea. Because tonight I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”
She inhaled sharply. Her skin shimmered with the flush of desire. It was a good look on her. “Like what?”
“You’ve worked hard to make a ton of people happy, and to make an incredible thing possible with the center. The next thirty minutes are all about you, and you’re going to feel what it’s like to be with someone who is obsessed with your pleasure. Every ounce of it, every inch of it, every second of it.” He ran his other hand down her arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake.
“Colin,” she said, as if she were trying to resist him. Trying futilely. “You say these things…” She trailed off as she seemed to collect her thoughts. “You say these things that make it so hard to resist you.”
“Nah. That’s not what makes it hard for you to resist me. This is.” He tugged her body to his, letting her feel his erection through their clothes.
She laughed. “Fine. You win for best innuendo of the night,” she said then pressed into him, her voice turning feathery, the way it did when she started to melt for him.
“Excellent. Let’s see if I can win at making you want to come more desperately than you’ve ever wanted to in your life,” he said, and her eyes widened, giving him a yes, telling him she wanted all the same things. To come hard in his arms.
God, he fucking loved getting her off. And taking his sweet time doing it.
He brushed his thumb over her top lip, tracing a soft line, and she parted her mouth, closing her eyes. But he didn’t kiss her. He had something else planned. He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, “How sensitive is your neck?”
“This isn’t fair,” she moaned in a feathery voice as he spun her around and sat her down on the end of a lounge chair. He stepped back a foot, so he could look in her eyes as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it on the back of the chair. The way she watched him sent bolts of lust through him. From the edge of her seat, she stared unabashedly, with hunger in her amber eyes.
“What’s unfair about me giving you what you want?”
“Because you know I’ll do anything if you touch me there,” she said, raising her hand to the back of her neck as he unknotted his tie.
“Anything?” He arched an eyebrow. “Anything at all?”
“Pretty much.”
“Anything sounds damn good to me. Besides, if you truly wanted me to do nothing, you wouldn’t be here,” he said, always ready to give her an out. In whatever capacity she was going to be with him, she had to be with him. To choose him. To want him.
She held out her arms and shrugged. “I want anything. Anything and everything with you.”
“You can have it all with me.”
He unbuttoned the cuff of his right shirtsleeve. His every nerve ending fired for this woman. How he felt for her was physical and so much more. Her passion for her work, her drive to make a difference, her heart that gave and gave and gave—all of it had spurred on his feelings. But then this—her body, her desire, her fucking fantastic face—she drove him wild. He was confident he did the same to her. He rolled up his other cuff, each fold of the crisp white shirt revealing the art that adorned his forearm. A sentence in curling script: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It suited his job, but it had little to do with how he made a living. It was his mantra. It was how he lived. It was his mission in life ever since he’d taken the biggest chance years ago and gained so much in return.
“So tell me something,” he said, moving closer, dropping his hand behind her to touch her lower back, then tracing a line up her spine with his fingertips. She arched into him, vertebra by vertebra.
“Yes?”
He bent his head closer to her ear, and whispered hotly, “Did you wear your hair up for me?”
She exhaled deeply, as if it cost her something. “Y
es.”
He dragged his index finger up the back of her neck, as he rested one knee on the lounge chair, positioning himself behind her so he could devote all his attention to her neck. “When you were getting ready at your house, were you thinking this might happen?”
She nodded.
“So you came here tonight already wanting me?” he asked as he stroked her skin.
“More than I should,” she murmured.
“You think you shouldn’t, but you’re giving into it, aren’t you? It sure looks that way to me.”
“I am. You know I am,” she said, and he could hear the fevered desperation in her tone. He was going to reward that wanting.
“Give in,” he whispered. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
Lowering his mouth to her shoulder, he licked the line of birds up her neck and to the edge of her hair. She shuddered.
He smothered her neck in kisses. Up, down, across. Over her shoulder blades and back up her spine.
Every kiss unleashed another moan from her, a sexy gasp, a needy sigh. Noises that were only a prelude of what he wanted to hear from her tonight.
CHAPTER FOUR
Why, oh why, did he have to be off-limits? Why did he have to fall squarely under the heading of do not pass go? It was truly fucking unfair because no one had ever made her feel like this. Like she was high on a touch. Like she was deliciously dizzy from a kiss. She wanted him so badly, and not just physically. She wanted more of him, but her emotions had to be cordoned off tonight. She told herself to let go for this one last night, let go of everything but the way he made her feel so alive.
“Close your eyes,” he told her firmly, and she let her eyelids drift closed, giving in to sense. Giving in to touch.
Maybe she was selfish. Or maybe she just wanted to feel a little something that was solely for her tonight. Nobody could deliver that better than this man.
He was kneeling behind her. She couldn’t even see him. But she was keenly aware of his presence as he dipped his mouth closer to her skin. His lips fluttered over her sensitive neck once more. She ached, pulsing between her legs as he kissed her all over. A snapping sound fell on her ear, and her hair spilled from its clip onto her neck as he undid her twist.
“Oh God,” she gasped, because she knew what was next.
His hands dove into her hair.
Fuck me now. Just fuck me now.
He’d discovered all her secrets the very first time he’d kissed her and explored her body. He’d read her responses as if it were his top-secret assignment to know every inch of her skin, then he’d remembered and sought them out, focusing on all the places that drove her wild. The back of her knee. The inside of her arm. Her neck, the gateway to her pleasure.
She was hopeless with him. He’d unlocked the code to all her desires, and he used it masterfully.
He threaded his talented fingers through her curls, gripping, and she moved with him, moaned for him, as if she were the notes he played on a cello. He was the musician; she was the instrument. He played and he played and he played, and her body sang for him, a song of pure desire. Of heat. Of want.
He twisted her hair once around his hand, pulling it to the side, and she tilted her head that way, giving him more room to devour her neck with kisses, like he was starved for her. He lavished pleasure all over her, leaving her drenched in sensation from soft, fluttery whispers along her neck, territorial kisses that claimed her as his, all mixed with the whiskery rub of his stubble. His ever-present scruff was trimmed to mere millimeters but long enough to brush against her skin with every kiss, bringing the intoxicating mix of soft and hard, of rough and tender. He rubbed his chin along her shoulder, and she arched into him.
He snaked an arm over her shoulders, grazing along her breasts as he traveled down her belly, his fingertips dancing against her waist.
“You like what I do to you.” It wasn’t a question.
“So incredibly much,” she said, as he flicked the tip of his tongue across her shoulder. When he kissed her like this, and he touched her like that, she wanted to give herself to him fully. The way he wanted. The way he’d asked for. A voice in the back of her head started to argue with her, to warn her what happened when she made choices in heated moments like this, and she tensed for an instant.
But this was different. This was a moment she was choosing to relish. A night of pleasure.
His hand reached the crest of her hip and her brain went dormant. He traced the top of her panties through the fabric of her dress. “Show me how much you like giving in. Show me how wet you are.”
She yanked up her skirt, bunching it near her waist, giving him instant access to the V of her legs. Even with her panties on, there was no hiding her arousal.
He groaned huskily. “Look at you, Elle. Look at how wet you get. For me.” His fingers glided up the soft flesh of her thighs, and she parted her legs for him. Grazing the wet panel, he whispered, “I want to feel that all over my dick. I want this sweet wetness all the fuck over me. Tell me how much you want me inside you right now. Tell me.”
“Oh God,” she panted. “Yes, God yes. I want that. I want it so much.”
“You want it?”
“You,” she said quickly, correcting her error. “I want you so much.”
“I want you to want me even more,” he said then took his hand away from her wet heat, returning both to her shoulders, sliding them up her neck to her hairline. He grabbed her hair, wound it all up in his fist and pulled hard, making her shudder. He bit the back of her neck, his teeth rough on her flesh.
She gasped as he soothed away the sting with his lips. She was nothing but cells and atoms, electrons and protons, smashing and colliding into lust and desire, and she could barely track where he was on her body. His lips were on her shoulders, her neck, her throat, then her jaw, her ears, her cheeks. His hands pressed into her breasts. His fingers raced down her arms. His erection rubbed against her spine through his clothes, making her gasp and want to beg for him.
And there, right there between her legs, she was an inferno for him. She arched her hips and said his name like a chant. He’d trapped her and she wanted to be his captive—captive ’til she came. “Colin,” she said. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Tell me what you want most this second. Tell me,” he said, his voice hot and demanding.
The answer was easy. There was only one thing she needed. “I need to come, Colin. Please, I need to come so badly.”
In a flash he rose, lifted her, and set her on her feet. She turned around and skimmed off her panties. He sank down on the end of the chair.
“Unzip my pants,” he told her. With greedy, eager fingers, she bent forward and did as he asked, tugging his pants to his thighs, then his boxer briefs, freeing his cock. Her mouth watered as she stared at his erection—hard, heavy, and so fucking long. So many glorious, gorgeous inches that she loved to take deep inside her.
He pressed a condom into her hand, and she quickly opened it then rolled it on him, stopping only when she spotted the new ink on his hip. A simple black phoenix, akin to a stencil design. It matched the lotus, like he’d said. Matched it in symbolism.
“For new beginnings,” she whispered softly, tracing it with her fingertip. It mesmerized her, the art and lines, the placement on his body, but she shook off her reaction because she didn’t want to think of beginnings. She wanted to think only of ending this epic ache in her body.
She straddled him. His fingers grasped her hips, and she lowered herself onto his shaft. She was ready to build a shrine, to make holy offerings, because he was divine. Anyone who said size didn’t matter had never experienced the unmitigated erotic joy of this kind of cock filling her up. Yeah, the motion of the ocean mattered, but so did the size of the boat. Long, thick, and steely, his dick operated like a precision-timed machine of pleasure.
She moaned, stilling for just a moment to savor that delicious stretch of taking him all the way in, her slippery heat coating his coc
k. “I almost forgot how good you feel,” she said as she started to move on him.
“That would be a damn shame. We shouldn’t let that happen,” he said, thrusting up into her.
She clenched around him. “No, we shouldn’t because this is…”
Words stopped forming as he drove into her. Gripping her hips, he jerked her down harder, filling her deeper.
“This is what, Elle?” he asked, his voice a sexy taunt, urging her on.
“Intense,” she said on an exhale, as he filled her so deliriously she nearly screamed. She was vaguely aware that there could be people nearby—workers, waiters, bartenders—and she somehow found the will not to sing and shout her pleasure to the stars. But she felt it. The intensity thrummed in her bones, sizzled across her skin. “Incredible. It’s so incredible,” she said on a moan, as he thrust into her.
Then, because he was a fucking expert, because he’d studied all the shortcuts to her pleasure, he looped his fingers in her hair and pulled hard, exposing her throat to him. That was like an electric burst of ecstasy.
“Fucking you is the best,” he said, layering kisses onto her skin. “You get so wet, and I love how it feels to slide into you over and over.”
“Tell me how it makes you feel,” she said, losing touch with the earth as he talked to her, his dirty words sending her into a tailspin. The way he spoke to her was such an insane turn on, and she was already aroused beyond her own comprehension. He kissed the hollow of her throat and drove his cock deep into her.
“It’s fucking extraordinary. Being inside you is extraordinary. And I love it when you come on me.” He slid a finger between her legs, brushed it lightly against her clit, and her lips parted, forming an O. A silent, glorious O, containing all the pleasure in the universe. He’d flipped that switch, pushing her from chasing an orgasm to falling apart in his arms. She shuddered, pleasure wracking her cells, racing through her to flood every corner.
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