"Closet" was not at all the right word for it. It was bigger than her bedroom at home.
She brought a hanger out, using it to hold everything she was taking off him. It was intimate work—undressing someone—but it was the perfect thing to have her do, because it gave her something else to concentrate on while keeping her near him. Andrea wasn't paying much attention to the fact that he was soon going to be nude.
That was until, at last, he was only wearing a pair of clingy boxer briefs that left little to the imagination.
She was a short woman—barely cresting a few inches above five feet. But she'd never felt short before. Connor was only about five-eight himself.
Being this close to Rad made her feel not just short, but small, which was new for her. It wasn't a bad feeling, as long as she felt she could trust him.
She'd been mistaken, too, in her faulty judgment that a man needed obvious muscles to be strong. He had reasonably well-defined biceps and a broader chest than she'd imagined, but he was no bulked-up body builder. Still, Andrea had no doubt that he was much stronger than she was. And in some ways, that made her feel very good, for some reason, and in others, she wasn't all that sure how she felt about it.
"We'll leave the briefs on for the moment, shall we?" Rad said, guiding her so that she had traded places with him. "Now it's your turn."
Her shaking had stopped while she was busy with a goal, but it returned with a vengeance.
"I want you to tell me to stop any time you want, Andrea—whether it's just for a little breather or if you want to chuck the whole thing." She didn't say anything, but he could see how she was trembling. "Yes?" he prompted a little pointedly.
"Yes," she whispered up at him.
Deciding that he knew of at least one method to distract her from her anxiety, Rad drew her into his arms and kissed her passionately, gratified on a deeper level than he wanted to be when she responded to him in kind, tilting her head, nipping the venturing tip of his tongue, and kissing him back with no hesitancy whatsoever. And before he withdrew, she was no longer shaking.
Remembering something he'd learned about grooming horses, he undressed her unhurriedly, always keeping a hand on her someplace neutral, just to retain contact. And it worked to calm her a lot but not completely. He didn't know why it was so important to him, but it was, and he was glad she responded so well to it.
The first thing he did was not reach for the buttons of her blouse. Instead, he came around behind her and removed the pins in her hair, gasping when he saw how long it was. "Damn, woman! You should never be allowed to wear your hair up—it's glorious!"
It was incredibly soft and smelled amazing, as if she'd sprayed some of her very subtle perfume into it. Rad wanted to bury his face in it before burying his face in her! He fully intended to do both of those things before he let her go tonight.
When he did move back to stand in front of her, he could see her stiffen a little. "Talk to me, baby," he coaxed as his nimble fingers made short work of the buttons down her front.
"About what?"
"Tell me what you like—what gets you off."
"I already warned you that you're going to find me really boring in regard to those kinds of things."
"You've had orgasms, right?"
"Yes, I have!" She looked a little affronted.
"Well, what did you think about when you had them? What did your husband do to get you there?"
Andrea snorted. "Not much, frankly."
"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that, but his loss is my gain."
Another snort. "I don't think you can say that yet."
His smile was beautiful, with just the slightest touch of nefarious intent. "Oh, I think I can. Too bad he didn't appreciate the gem he had in his bed."
Her, "Stop!" was all bashful, just like he'd intended her to be.
"I'm going to take your blouse off, Andrea." And as he said it, he did it. It was gone before she realized it was going to be taken off. She was still wearing more than she wore when she went to the beach, but she felt much more vulnerable at the moment.
Rad leaned down and kissed her shoulder as he did the same thing with her clothes as she had done with his. "That's a beautiful bra," he said, once he'd hung up her shirt.
It was lacy black, with pretty red roses along the top.
"Thank you."
"Do the panties match, I hope?"
Unendingly happy that both parts of the set had been washed recently, and she wasn't wearing a pair of ratty cotton briefs in lime green or something equally horrible, Andrea teased, "You'll have to wait and see."
As he undressed her, besides keeping a hand on her lightly, somewhere, at all times, and pressing his lips to the skin he was slowly revealing here and there—the pulse in her wrist or just behind her ear—he also took her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly every once in a while, finding that it did more to calm her than anything else.
By the time she stood there in just that matching set of lingerie, he knew she was still nervous, but she wasn't shaking any longer. Her pupils were dilated, and he could plainly see the way her nipples were trying to peek out from behind the lace of her bra. The last couple of times their lips had met, she had pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around him and clinging to him in a way that made him grind himself against her.
Rad gestured toward his briefs. "Do you want to do the honors, or do you want me to?"
"I'll do it," she volunteered, kneeling before him gracefully, unselfconsciously, and reaching for the waistband.
When she pulled them down, he popped out. "Jeez, you should have told me to duck!" Andrea brought the underwear to his ankles, and he stepped out, kicking them away as she sat on her heels before him.
"You're fucking gorgeous." The note of reverence in her voice made his cheeks flush with embarrassment. Her eyes swept up the considerable length of his body. "Like a Greek statue."
"Stop," he parroted back at her.
Her hand was already out to cup him, but she stopped midway and looked up at him. "Is it all right if I touch you?"
Rad cupped her cheek. "You never need to ask, honey."
He was hard and smooth—like the marble she'd compared him to—so long and thick, she had to use two hands to encompass all of him. "You're enormous, too."
His laugh was a rich chuckle at that. "And I think you're easily impressed."
"Well, you might have me there. Connor was about five inches and not very thick."
His hands covered hers, moving them away from him and helping her up. "I can't let you do much of that, I'm afraid. You're too potent. I'll lose control entirely."
Her eyes met his. "I would like to see that sometime."
"And so you shall, Andrea." He grinned. "Would you like to take this off, or would you like me to?" And she surprised him by saying that she wanted him to do it.
He walked around behind her to unhook it, sliding the straps down her arms and pulling the bra off from behind. As he slowly revealed her breasts, he could easily see from his vantage point, they were slightly swollen, the tips tight and a soft mauve.
"Very beautiful," he breathed, wrapping his arms around her from behind, hugging her just beneath her breasts and encouraging her to lean back against him. "I know it's not easy for you to do, but try to relax as much as you can. All I want is to make you feel good. Better than good. Incredible."
She smiled at that. "You are just so enthusiastically egotistical. It's hard to be unhappy with you about it, because you're so joyfully unrepentant about it."
His grin told her that he wasn't offended by her remark. "Well, I'll ask you at the end of the evening if you think I've exaggerated my talents."
"I'll hold you to that, Rad."
"I expect you to, Andrea."
Before she knew it, he had sunk down behind her and relieved her of her underwear. Her first instinct was to cover herself, but she kept her hands at her sides.
Then he turned her, carefully, so that her breasts
were pressed against his chest, holding her tightly to him. He was big and warm, and she felt surrounded by him, but in a good way. Her apprehensions had ebbed away—most of them, anyway—and she was thoroughly enjoying being held by him, despite the fact that his hard-on was pressing insistently into her tummy.
"It must sound terribly chauvinistic, but I really like holding a small woman. I think it activates my protective instincts."
"That's okay. I was just having a similar, highly unfeminist thought about how much I like being in your arms like this."
He held her for a few more moments, then he took a step away. She felt bereft of his warmth and strength and moved toward him.
"No," Rad said firmly. "Stay still. I want to look at you and touch you. And I want you to do the same to me, just not my cock. I want you too badly to let you touch me there at the moment."
Still, having said that, the first thing he did was kiss her again, until he could feel the tension that her nudity had created within her easing back some, after which he moved away, put her hands on his chest, and his on her shoulders. "I love your hands on me."
"Really?" She giggled, sounding like a vapid schoolgirl, she knew.
"Absolutely. There is nothing like a woman's touch. Nothing."
Andrea was touching him, but he was touching her, too, and that distracted her terribly. He was breathing a little faster, but she was gasping and groaning and totally unable to suppress the sounds she was making.
"I'm sorry. I sound like a bad porno."
He caught her chin and scolded her slightly. "No, you don't. I like the sounds you're making. They let me know I'm on the right track."
At that moment, as he held her eyes, Rad cupped her breasts for the first time. Her eyes closed, and she held her breath, only allowing the low moan to escape when she couldn't hold it any longer.
His touch was gentle but firm as those long fingers encircled each breast, rubbing the edges of his index fingers over the tips of the nipples he'd brought into further prominence. Even more animalistic sounds flowed freely from her mouth until she bit her lip to stifle them.
"Andrea." Her eyes flew to his, and he had a sudden thought, subtly changing his tone of voice to be the slightest bit more authoritative as he searched her eyes for signs of a response to his foray. "What did I just tell you, honey?"
Bingo!
Her eyes widened—the pupils nearly blown—and he didn't think she even realized that she'd gasped just a bit.
This just got even more intriguing!
"Answer me, my dear." The command was just slightly firmer than the last one, but her responses to it were even more obvious.
Especially considering that she did as she was told almost immediately. "You said you like the sounds I'm making."
"That's right. I want to hear them, baby. No swallowing them back. Understood?" He'd deliberately kept his tone soft and soothing, with a whisper of sternness.
She nodded, and he felt her tremble against him revealingly. "Yes."
Rad smiled down at her. "Good girl."
Some women hated to be called that, feeling that it infantilized them. But some women loved it, as long as it was used judiciously.
Andrea was among the latter. She blushed brightly at his praise, and he knew he would have to remember to use that phrase more often in the future.
He frowned for a second with the sharp, dissatisfying knowledge that this was the only time they were going to be together, since this was a one night stand. His jaw set stubbornly. Perhaps it could be more if things went especially well. And he intended that they would.
As he held her and touched her and kissed her, Rad peppered her with questions, recognizing the need to keep that overactive mind of hers occupied, so she didn't get anxious again.
"Is there any position you don't like?"
"I don't know that I've done a lot of them."
He looked up from suckling at a pert nipple. "Missionary only?"
"Sometimes others, but not even missionary very often."
"That is a damned shame."
"I don't like sixty-nine."
"Oh? Why not?"
"It makes me feel overwhelmed for some reason, and I find it hard to concentrate on either activity."
Rad nodded. "I'll remember that."
"Anywhere I shouldn't touch?"
"Uh, I can't think of one." It was damned hard to think of anything with the way he was touching and licking and suckling her. "Oh—no butt stuff."
His hand slid slowly down over a belly that was slightly too generous, until he could cup her essence. "Because you tried it and didn't like it, or you don't think you'll like it so you're not going to try it?"
"The…the latter," Andrea panted out breathily.
"Dead set against it?" Rad began nibbling at her neck as his fingers claimed that which he was already touching.
When a finger breeched her, she started violently.
"Steady," he cautioned. "Am I hurting you?"
She knew she should have been touching him in the same way, but all she could do was lay her head on his chest and let him touch her, palms covering the plates of muscles on his lightly hairy chest.
"N-no."
"You must tell me if I do."
"Yes."
Rad was having a hard time not crowing at just how wet she was.
Andrea was just trying to remember to breathe. What he was doing to her was incredibly arousing—much more so than she'd ever felt in her life, especially as that drenched, dripping finger moved upward, to brush over her clit.
Her body went rigid at that first light contact, and he moved slightly back. "Did you come?" Rad sounded incredulous.
"N-no. When I come, it's pretty hard to miss. But I'm really, uh, sensitive."
"Wonderful," he sighed, swirling the tip of his finger over one of the most acute places on her body and coaxing another mindless groan from her.
She was going to come, right then and there, if she didn't do something to stop it.
Suddenly, Andrea wrenched herself away from him, bending over a bit—he wasn't sure if it was to protect herself from his touch, or because his touch felt so good that she had to bend over. Whichever it was, he didn't like her moving away from him like that, but when he made to reclaim her, to take her back into his embrace, she put her hand up.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm being selfish and self-centered."
"How so?" His gaze narrowed.
"I should be asking you the same things you're asking me. Are there any positions you don't like, Rad?"
Hearing her say his name was almost as good as her stroking him.
"No."
"Is there anywhere I shouldn't touch you?"
"Absolutely not."
"Are there any acts you won't consider?"
"None, as long as you're into them, too."
Andrea felt as if she was holding off a panther, with her ineffectual hand up between them and him behaving but looking as if he didn't want to.
Her theory was proven right when he took a step toward her, eyes locked with hers. "Rad." Her hand was still up as she took a countering step back, but she knew it would be no defense against him, any more than her pocketbook would have been.
"Yes, honey?" he asked in what passed for a lazy, if British, drawl as he took a second step, smiling just slightly as she inched away from him again.
Another step forward, and Andrea could only take half of one back before her calves touched the end of the bed.
When he moved again, it was to spread his legs, so she was standing between them, and wrap his arms around her, holding her tightly to him.
As his lips claimed hers, Andrea felt a bit mischievous, sliding a hand slowly down the front of him to brush her fingers lightly up the length of him. Then she felt him give a full-bodied shudder at her relatively innocent action, and she was flooded with a sense of power she'd never felt before as she watched him bring himself under control, sensing that she had nearly driven him beyond his abili
ty to control himself.
She was prepared to climb onto the bed, in case he appeared angry, but when he looked at her, she saw no signs of frustration or annoyance.
"Do you like to be spanked, Andrea?" he asked in such an offhand, conversational manner that he could have been asking her what her favorite color was.
"Well, I didn't like it much as a kid, not that I was spanked much. But it's generally thought to be unpleasant."
"Not by some. For some people, it's arousing in the extreme."
"Are you one of those people?"
"No, I don't like to be spanked, but I don't mind delivering a spanking or two, especially to a lady who just did exactly what I told her not to and very nearly rendered me useless for the next thirty minutes or so."
"Me?"
Her tone was so deftly innocent that it made him laugh. "Who else is here with me, looking incredibly gorgeous, and is a teasing little minx who likes to ignore what she's told?"
"That doesn't sound like me at all! I'm a rule follower from way back."
"Apparently not, my dear."
Before she knew it, he took them both down onto the bed, turning so that she ended up on top of him.
Andrea was extremely glad she hadn't ended up over his lap!
Chapter 3
But she congratulated herself before she should have, because as she stretched herself atop him, Rad clamped her in place with an arm around her waist, and while watching her face carefully, he brought his palm down on her bare backside once, not too hard, but rather experimentally.
Andrea gasped. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it might. Indeed, it felt pretty good. The spot where his palm had connected to her backside was warming and tingling, and both of those sensations had a very short road to travel before they converged at her clit.
He watched her response very closely. She hadn't punched him—yet, anyway—and wasn't trying to get away from him. In fact, she was grinding herself against him seductively.
So, as he continued to kiss her deeply, moving his hands over every inch of her that he could reach, Rad also occasionally smacked her bottom. She squealed in surprise each time, which sometimes descended into a moan that had his cock jumping in search of her entrance. Other times, she barely acknowledged it in favor of flicking the tip of her tongue over his nipples, while undulating over him as if she couldn't get enough of him.
Just One Night Page 3