Sliding Into Home

by Joanne Rock

  “Why should we turn our backs on something that might be really special just because it’s convenient for my publicist or yours?”

  She had no answer for a long moment and he took the opportunity to still her fingers where she wrung the living daylights out of that purse strap. Her short nails had been painted pearly white, the pale glitter standing out against her tanned skin.

  He captured one of her hands between both of his, pressing their palms together until he could feel the rapid-fire beat of her heart in the soft pad below her thumb.

  “How do you know it could be special when we hardly know each other?” The naked worry in her tone reminded him not to push for too much too fast.

  It also hinted at a vulnerability at odds with her brazen public persona.

  “I’ll tell you exactly how I know, but will you come upstairs with me first?” He gestured to the dark parking garage. “It’s quiet in here now, but all it takes is one hungry journalist with a good cover story to get past the gate.”

  Nodding, she reached for the passenger door handle before he could open it for her. He felt more than a little off his game with her, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Could it be because she was the first woman in a long time to interest him on more than just a physical level?

  Locking the car, he escorted her to the elevator bay and up to the penthouse level where key access was required. The modest-size high rise overlooked Central Park, an older property he’d been lucky to snap up soon after he moved to the city.

  “Wow.” Jamie breathed an appreciative sigh as he opened the door to his place, mirroring his own first reaction when he’d seen the view.

  The Plaza Hotel capped off the dark expanse of park greenery in the twilight, the brightly lit landmark centered in his glimpse of the midtown skyline. A few hansom cabs worked the perimeter of the park, the colorful carriages a taste of old New York on one of the city’s historic thoroughfares.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured toward the couch, but she ignored it in favor of a spot at the floor-to-ceiling bay window. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks.” She shook her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders to blanket the jean jacket. “But I’m anxious to hear why you think we have any business together when we hardly know each other.”

  She shot him a rueful grin over one shoulder, her arms crossed in a defensive posture.

  Setting his keys on a glass-topped table near the sofa, he joined her at the window overlooking the city. He guessed he didn’t have a lot of time to make his case with her. He’d read all about her messy divorce from the media mogul who’d pinned the fault on her in the press. The guy had blamed her partying lifestyle and implied she ran with a “fast” crowd. He’d stopped short of accusing her of cheating on him, but blogs devoted to celebrity-watching had a field day speculating if she’d been as unfaithful to him as he’d been to her.

  “I don’t blame you for being careful.” He respected it, in fact. “From what I read, your ex sounds like he went out of his way to make your life hell.”

  Though Lance hadn’t recognized her at first, he recalled seeing the video of her fight sometime in the past year. It had been in an e-mail a friend sent him, and he’d watched it, the way most of the rest of the country had.

  He felt bad about that now, blindly adding to the popularity of a video she surely wished would die.

  She gave a tight nod. He was curious why things had turned so bitter in her marriage, but he wasn’t about to push her for inside details, the real scoop behind the tabloid scandals. Not when he needed to make her see the past had no business in this discussion.

  “And while you might not have any reason to trust that I’m not like that,” he forged ahead, “I’ll tell you why I trust that we could have something really special together.”

  She eyed him with wary interest from her position in front of the window. With the skyline spread out behind her, the lights of the city glowing brighter as the sky faded from purple twilight to full darkness, she made for the best view he’d ever had from that balcony.

  “Why?” Her crossed arms fell, her body language opening to him for the first time since their exchange in the coffeehouse.

  “I make my living on snap judgments, Jamie.” With tentative fingers, he brushed a lock of hair from the shoulder of her denim jacket, smoothing it down her back and stirring the clean, floral scent of her shampoo. “I’ve got fractions of a second to stare down a baseball when it leaves the pitcher’s hand to decide if it’s a fastball or a changeup or any of the other junk in a pitcher’s arsenal. Fractions of a second to apply everything I know about hitting a baseball to determine whether or not I’ll swing and where I’m going to try and connect with the ball.”

  She frowned. “You’ve made a career out of reading pitches. I don’t think you can say the same about women.”

  His hand lingered on her back, his fingers unwilling to part with the feel of her through the jacket.

  She wasn’t just beautiful. She was gutsy. Mouthy. Clever. And he wanted her with a keenness he would have never anticipated.

  “When I’ve got a good feeling about something, I trust my gut all the way.” He wasn’t backing down. “I made up my mind about you.”

  She shook her head, bemused. “That’s how people get hurt. They trust too much, too fast.”

  He regretted the dark shadow that crossed her expression, the hurt she’d experienced firsthand.

  “So don’t make a commitment. All I’m asking is for is a night. Just one night together to give it a try.” He molded her shoulders in his hands, wanting to haul her close, but wanting even more for her to come willingly. Eagerly. “What have you got to lose?”

  A DAMN GOOD QUESTION.

  Jamie’s knees grew weaker with each passing moment. Lance’s touch worked a keen magic on her senses while his crazy approach to having an affair sounded better and better. No doubt it was just because she’d fallen under his spell.

  But like he said, what did she have to lose? She was the media’s Bad Girl of the moment, the woman most likely to cause a commotion whether she was brawling half-naked or buying her groceries. The media dogged her in the hope of another juicy tidbit. How could it possibly hurt her any more to be with Lance Montero when she was already inextricably linked to him since the video of their meet was posted online?

  “I don’t have anything to lose,” she acknowledged, her eyelids falling half-shut under the weight of long-ignored desire. “Not one flipping thing.”

  And with that realization, a million inhibitions fell away, discarded like yesterday’s news. She couldn’t come up with any reason why she shouldn’t throw herself at the most gorgeous, sexy, sweetly compelling zillionaire she’d ever met.

  “One night,” she agreed, feeling like the bargain gave her permission to be uninhibited without worrying what tomorrow held. “An outrageous girl like me will try anything once.”

  Arching up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered herself—hip to breast—against Lance. It was a bold contact to initiate without so much as a kiss for a prelude and oh, my. Was it ever a brilliant idea. Her body sang with sweet awareness at the feel of all that broad, masculine muscle. From the rugged plane of his taut abs to the sinewy strength of the arms banded around her, he was all about coiled power.

  “You’re not as outrageous as you pretend.” He whispered the words against her ear right before he kissed her just below there.

  Delicious chills ran up her spine and she tipped her head back to better enjoy them. Him. This.

  “No?” She would go along with anything he said at this point. She just wanted to remain exactly where she was—pressed up against him and on the receiving end of his lips beneath her ear.

  “I have a theory that you’ve got a sweet spot.” He cupped her hips and held them to his own, giving her the full, unadulterated preview of what being with him was going to be like.

  The hard length of him touch
ed off a fire inside her and she couldn’t hold back a gasp.

  “See?” He levered back from her to look her into her eyes. “I might have found it already.”

  Her heart ratcheted up the pace, thundering in her chest with the need for more. She couldn’t begin to articulate what she wanted from him. She simply wanted.

  With frantic fingers, she set to work on the buttons down his shirt. He hadn’t worn a tie, but he’d thrown on a jacket with his jeans and dress shirt after the game. She needed them off now.

  In her head, she thought about explaining that it had been a long time for her. That her ex had quit caring about sex even before the marriage was over, choosing instead to cheat on her. But her brain couldn’t spare enough power to fuel the words past her lips. She was too overwhelmed by the sudden realization that she could have this one night—this one amazing man—for herself. He didn’t care about the bad press her behavior had stirred.

  That alone made her heart melt.

  But the sizzling way he seemed to really, really want her…Well, that had unleashed something primitive inside her that demanded an answer.

  “Let me,” he told her, stilling her awkward fingers as she battled the last shirt button.

  Even her hands hummed with the same fiery anticipation that flickered over her breasts and thighs and everything in between. She felt like an electric current had been turned on, and the effect was both exciting and numbing.

  He’d pinned her against the glass window at some point, her back to the view of Central Park and the city so that she could only see the lights reflected in his eyes. She liked her view better.

  She watched avidly as he shrugged out of his shirt, revealing a white tank top underneath. She only glimpsed the undershirt for a moment since he gripped the hem and yanked it up and off. Leaving her mouth dry at the sight of his well-honed arms and chiseled chest. A tattoo with his jersey number had been etched on his shoulder. Her gaze sank down the line bisecting his pecs and his abs to end at his belt. She reached for the leather, wanting to see more.

  “I can’t let you get that far ahead of me.” He manacled her wrists with a gentle touch and steered her away from his belt. “First I want to see more of you.”

  Her inclination was to shimmy out of her jacket and dress in two seconds flat, but he tipped her jaw up to look into her eyes and kissed her.

  The warm, silken glide of his tongue over hers undid her. She relinquished control, giving more of her weight to the glass behind her so he could do whatever he wished. Clearly, his ideas for how to proceed were just…better.

  The scent of his aftershave called to all her pheromones, the bay rum seducing her as much as the faint bristle of his freshly shaved jaw. Vaguely, she noticed when he peeled away her denim jacket and smoothed down the straps of her sundress. But mostly, she felt his kiss. He still cradled her jaw like a precious artifact, positioning her where he wanted her for maximum benefit. She’d never felt so treasured, not even by the man whose name she had once shared.

  “Lance.” She breathed his name like a wish come true, breaking the kiss long enough to revel in the rightness of the moment.

  “Come to my bed.” He held her dress around her, keeping her covered. “I don’t want anyone but me to see what I uncover next.”

  The tenderness of that thought undid her. Half the world had seen her breasts, but he wanted to make them for his eyes only, here…Now.

  Nodding, she took the fallen straps in her hands and held the dress in place while he led her through a high-tech kitchen into a small study and, finally, a palatial bedroom. A light flickered on at their arrival, treating her to a quick view of a crisp black-and-white domain dominated by an immense mahogany bed.

  He dimmed the light with a switch on the wall, narrowing the world to the two of them again. Her feet sank into lush carpet as he tugged off her dress to pool at her feet.

  She knew a moment’s hesitation since her body—her nakedness—had caused so much grief. Would Lance look at her now and think of her past mistakes? But like a balm to her soul, the sight of her in her sheer lace underthings only seemed to inflame Lance. He lifted her up off her feet and hauled her to the bed, depositing her into the thick feather ticking while he shucked his pants.

  Excitement coursed through her to be splayed out in front of him in no more than a skimpy strapless bra and matching mauve lace panties, her pulse quickening along with her shallow breath. When he paused to reach into a nightstand—presumably for protection—she couldn’t resist touching the formidable bulge in his boxers. Tracing the heavy length of him with her fingertip, she paused at the head of his shaft and encircled it. The shudder that moved through him was visible even in the dim light and she smiled to think she possessed that kind of power over him. Heaven knew he had it over her in spades.

  He pressed a condom into her hand, entrusting her to open it as he peeled down her panties. She hadn’t even broken the foil when he nipped her breast through the sheer lace of her bra.

  “You’re beautiful.” He tugged the lace down with his teeth, exposing first one nipple and then the other.

  She arched up, wanting more of his touch, needing his mouth and his hands everywhere at once. The condom lay forgotten in her fingers until he took it back from her, finishing the job she’d been too distracted to start.

  At least, that’s what she assumed he did with it. She was too focused on the luscious spasms that seized her when he drew on the taut peak of her breast. The sensation bolted from her chest to circle her womb and clench it hard. Her skin trembled with longing.

  He parted her thighs and stepped between them, his expression intense as he watched her with hooded eyes. With restless fingers, she reached up for him, needing to connect with him in some way until the deeper union that awaited them.

  He gripped her wrist tight in one hand and guided her palm to his lips where he kissed it with a fervency that made her quiver. Then, as he kissed her, he aligned himself between her legs and pressed against the slick entrance.

  A soft cry escaped her, the pleasure too sharp to contain. Her hips bucked and thrust beneath him, ready for more. Still, he kissed her palm, his tongue stroking an erotic circle along the sensitive center of her hand. The knowing caress could not have been any more effective if he had bestowed the same kiss between her thighs. Tension coiled tight inside, raising gooseflesh all over until she thought she would squeeze right out of her skin.

  He never took his eyes off hers as he edged his way deeper inside her, stretching her impossibly while his tongue never ceased the maddening rhythm along her palm.

  He seemed to know exactly what that ticklish caress did to her as he increased the speed of it. The touch was so unexpectedly wicked, so sweetly decadent, she had no defense against it.

  She flew apart before he even entered her all the way. Her body convulsed around him, and she arched up off the bed in his arms, forcing him closer against her while she came. Release shuddered through her as he pushed his way deep inside her and she’d never felt anything so unbelievably good.

  Pulling him down to the bed, she rolled on top of him, needing to have her way with him as she rode the climax through every last lush spasm. Pinning his hands over his head on the bed, she seated herself deep on his shaft. His breath rasped harshly in the soft quiet of the room and she seized on that sound to find the motion that pleased him most. More than anything, she wanted to repay him with the same toe-curling completion he’d given her.

  Unhooking her bra with one hand, she tossed it aside and stretched out over him, brushing her breast against his cheek until he nipped her gently with his teeth. Her hair fell on either side of her, draping them in a silken cocoon as she met his every thrust.

  She delighted in her power over him as his hips rose off the bed to meet hers. The sleek athleticism of his body gave her the impression that he could give this to her all night, an idea that sent shivers down her spine. Needing to ensure he reached the peak of pleasure at least a few times, s
he took up his hand and repaid the torment he’d given her in kind. Tugging one of his fingers into her mouth, she drew on the digit hard. His whole body stilled, and she could feel his pulse pounding between his legs, his shaft rock solid within her.

  With light, teasing strokes, she licked along the inside of his finger, and as if she’d flipped a switch, his release roared through him. She sealed his hips to hers, absorbing every thrust.

  Afterward, his chest rose and fell with the same panting effort she’d experienced. She lay beside him in the dim light, stroking a lazy finger along his shoulder and up his neck to cradle his cheek.

  At first, his eyes remained closed, his expression neutral as he recovered from what they’d shared. But then he turned toward his, eyes opening to watch her. Only then did she understand how completely she’d opened herself to him.

  One night?

  She had damn well shared more than that with him. She’d might as well have handed him a piece of her heart and soul.

  Still, it took several hours and several orgasms more for that reality to sink in. And then, in the quietest hour of the night, she started having a bonafide panic attack at the idea of dragging someone she cared about into her world full of tabloid guerilla warfare and cameras around every corner.

  “Lance.”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she shook his shoulder, hating to bother him, but unable to let the knowledge that she’d ruin his career fester longer than necessary.

  “Again?” His hand moved on her hip, automatically reaching for her even when he was only half-awake.

  Her body responded instantly, and for a fraction of a second, she actually considered the possibility.

  “No.” Coming to her senses, she edged away from him, dragging a sheet with her as she sat up in his bed.

  “What is it?”

  “I have to go.” She started rooting around the bed for her underwear, thinking maybe she deserved her bad reputation if she would run out on a guy without even kissing him good morning when the sun rose, but damn it, this was for his own good.