Brent jumped at the feel of her fingertips pressing into him, and an arrow of heat shot straight into his loins. Did the woman realize how sensitive a man’s inner thigh was?
“What!” Keshia demanded of him. “Don’t tell me you disagree.”
“Hum?” Brent struggled to remember what they were talking about. Oh, yeah, confirming sources. “Of course I don’t disagree.”
“Than why are you frowning like that?” Keshia asked.
“I’m not frowning.” Was he frowning? “I was thinking.” Thinking he’d like to take hold of Laura’s hand and move it half an inch up and just a fraction to the left. Either that, or drag her outside and demand to know what was going on. She wasn’t at all herself this evening. Maybe the strain of moving and her argument with her father were getting to her. He should ease away from her before things got out of hand. Instead, he found himself shifting his knees apart to give her easier access to his thigh. As if he’d drawn her a road map, her fingers zeroed in on an erogenous zone halfway between his groin and his knee.
His body jerked so violently, he half-expected everyone to turn and look at him as if they knew what was going on beneath the table. He reached for his drink in hopes of covering up his sudden movement. That, and squelching the bonfire that was spreading through his system. Damn, the room was getting hot. Setting his glass down, he gave Laura a look that demanded to know what she thought she was doing. To his surprise, she smiled back at him as if nothing at all were going on.
All right, he told her with his eyes, two can play at this game. We’ll just see who cries uncle first.
Turning back to Keshia, he picked up the debate where it had left off as he slipped his hand under the table. He ran his palm across the top of Laura’s thigh. She squirmed when he made contact with her bare knee. The satin softness of her skin tantalized his fingertips as he drew the hem of her dress upward to make small circles on her flesh. From the corner of his eye, he watched her breathing go shallow. He wanted to smile when she reached for her drink to take a hurried sip. His smile faltered, though, when her other hand traveled downward toward his own knee and back up. She repeated the journey again and again, each time going a tiny bit higher.
Sweat formed on the back of his neck, even though he knew she would never, surely never, go all the way up his thigh to the bulge that strained against his trousers. He shifted his legs to accommodate the growing pressure and prayed she didn’t take his movement as an invitation. If she touched him there, he was not going to be responsible for the result.
To his relief she redirected her assault to the top of his thigh, and he relaxed slightly; not much, but enough to lean back in the booth and enjoy the game. She might be in a strangely brazen mood, but she was still an amateur, and he’d have her begging him for mercy any second.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t exactly an old pro at these games either, since he’d focused most of his life on work rather than women. In fact, touching her thigh, feeling the supple muscles play beneath his hand, seemed to be having more of an effect on him than her. He was glad when Franklin took up the debate with Keshia, since his brain was having a hard time putting two words together in a coherent manner.
Laura, on the other hand, had turned to Connie and was chatting away about Beason’s Ferry and her family history. All the while, she made torturous circles with her fingertip, drawing random patterns that made him hold his breath every time she started toward the junction of his thighs. At some point he quit fearing she’d touch him there and started hoping to feel her hand cup him. Before long, he wanted her touch so badly, his teeth ached.
What had started as a flirtatious game turned into a battle of the sexes. Male ego demanded he make her quit first. He just hoped she surrendered soon, because if her fingertips brushed across that spot inside his thigh one more time, he was going to whimper.
His hand flexed about her thigh at the thought. God, she had incredible legs. He wanted to slide beneath the table and spend an hour kissing every inch of them, from the slender ankles on up to the hot nest he knew waited at their apex.
In a last-ditch effort to turn the tables on her, he leaned toward her, catching the scent of some spicy new perfume. “You know, Laura,” he whispered, “if we keep this up much longer, you could wind up very embarrassed.”
“Oh?” She turned to him, blinking innocently, but her eyes were dilated with desire. Victory was almost his. She was in over her head, and soon he’d hear her admit it.
“That’s right,” he breathed near her ear. “Or have you forgotten that night in my car? The way I made you scream? Is that what you want me to do? Make you scream with pleasure in front of all these people?”
For a moment she just stared at him as if too tantalized or horrified to speak. Then, to his relief, she snatched her hand away from him. Even though he’d wanted her to stop, he nearly groaned at the loss of her touch. Reaching for his drink, he offered her a whispered consolation. “I will say this: It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing stockings under that dress, or this little game really could have gotten out of hand.”
To his surprise, a laugh escaped her lips.
“Brent,” she whispered back as he took a deep gulp of his margarita, “I’m not wearing anything under this dress.”
He choked, gasping for breath, until Jorge slapped him hard between the shoulder blades and asked if he was all right.
“Fine. I’m fine,” he managed to gasp. “I just remembered something I have to do, though.”
“What?” Several voices asked.
“I, uhm … I need to get home, that’s all. Now.” He grabbed Laura’s hand. “Sorry to bust up the party, but really have to go.”
Ignoring the stunned faces of his coworkers, he moved Jorge and Kevin out of the booth, dragging Laura behind him.
”What in the world could you possibly have to do at home in the middle of the night?” Keshia asked. Beside her, Franklin dissolved with laughter.
“A project.” Brent’s brain refused to function, and he rattled off the first words that came to mind. “I’m replacing some molding, and Laura promised to help me pick out the paint.”
“In the middle of the night?” Keshia gaped at him.
Brent gave her an exasperated look as he fumbled for enough money to cover his part of the bill. “What’s the use of living in a big city if you don’t take advantage of the all-night hardware stores?”
“Hardware?” Franklin clamped his arm about his stomach to control his laughter. “Oh, God, that’s rich, Michaels. Maybe I’ll have to get me some of that hardware.”
Tossing down his money, Brent grabbed Laura’s hand and headed for the door.
“Brent, slow down,” Laura said as she stumbled after him into the parking lot. Before she could utter another word, he’d opened the passenger door of his car, put her inside, and dashed around to the driver’s side. The minute he closed the door behind him, he leaned toward her, all but trapping her in her bucket seat. “Prove it.”
“Excuse me?” She stared at him, still panting for breath. She wasn’t quite sure how she’d gone from sitting in the restaurant to sitting in his car, but there she was with him leaning over her in the darkness. Beyond the car, she heard music underscored by laughter from the patio bar. Moving headlights sliced through the back window of the Porsche, illuminating his eyes. He looked determined and deadly serious.
“Prove you’re not wearing anything under that dress,” he said.
“How do you expect me to do that?” Her heart raced as his eyes traveled downward to her lap, then back up.
“It’s very simple, Laura. Just lift your skirt and let me see.”
“I can’t do that!” She gaped at him, horrified at the suggestion, and incredibly excited. Even more shocking than his suggestion was her reason for refusing. She knew she’d die of embarrassment if she lifted her skirt and he saw the moisture glistening between her thighs. Then he’d know just how excited he’d gotten her in the restaurant.
“Not so brazen now, are you?” His mouth turned up into a slow smile so filled with male smugness, she wanted to wipe it right off his lips.
She smiled up at him, in the slowest, most seductive way she knew how. “You want to see what I’m wearing? Look for yourself.”
“You think I won’t?” Her heart went still as his hand dropped to the hem of her dress while his eyes remained fixed on hers. Slowly he lifted the dress to her waist, and the night air brushed the curls between her thighs.
His gaze dropped to her lap, and he went utterly still. “Oh, God.” He breathed the words in reverence, and his gaze shot back to hers. For a moment, they just stared at each other, then his mouth was on hers in a demanding, searing kiss that stole her breath. She couldn’t think as his hand dropped beside the seat, and the back reclined slowly, lowering her seductively beneath him. His hands moved to caress her legs and squeeze her bottom.
He broke the kiss and dropped his forehead to hers. “Oh, Christ.” He panted the words like a plea for strength. His head lifted, and he stared straight into her eyes. “Don’t move.”
With her head still whirling, she remained exactly as she was, slumped down in the seat, her dress bunched at her waist, her knees slightly parted. With a flick of his wrist, Brent brought the car to life with a roar of the engine and drove out of the parking lot. Some part of her brain screamed at her to sit up straight, lower her dress, and try to regain some semblance of modesty. But the moment she tried to do that, his hand shot from the gearshift to her knee, holding it exactly where it was. She looked up at him and saw him watching her out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said teasingly. “You started this game, and you’ll finish it. Unless you’re willing to concede defeat now.”
Game? she wondered. What game? She vaguely remembered the challenging look he’d given her in the restaurant. Apparently this was all a game to him, a thrilling, tantalizing game she was more than willing to play. She just wished she knew the rules. “What happens if I surrender?”
“Why don’t you say uncle and find out?” His hand crept up her thigh to lightly tease her blond curls. Heat shot through her, melting her legs until they fell farther apart. Maybe it was crazy, and she couldn’t believe she was actually doing this, but she’d never felt more alive than she did at that moment.
In the darkness of the car, she opened herself to his every touch. Thankfully, his house was mere blocks from the restaurant. Still, she could feel the pressure building as she writhed against his hand, aching for release.
“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said, casting her a sideways look. “I’m not letting you off that easily.”
She moaned as his hand left her to return to the gearshift. Tires squealed as the car turned a corner. Then he slammed on the brake, pitching her to a sitting position. She stared in surprise at the dark silhouette of his house. Then the car door opened beside her, and Brent was half-helping, half-hauling her out. He kissed her again, pressing her against the car with his body. She felt his arousal thrusting against her belly as he rocked his hips.
Before she could wrap her arms around his neck, he broke the kiss and dragged her behind him along the path to the porch. She laughed as they stumbled up the stairs to his front door. He fumbled to put the key in the lock, cursing when he couldn’t make it fit. Feeling outrageous, she wrapped herself against his back, splaying her hands against his chest. “What happens if you surrender to me?”
“I won’t,” he laughed, then groaned as she ran her hands downward, over his taut stomach. “God help me.”
As if in answer to his prayer, the door opened, and they fell through it together. He spun around, closing the door and trapping her against it. His mouth covered hers as his hands ran over her hips. She felt him gather her dress about her waist, felt him press his hardened length against her heated flesh. All that separated them was his trousers, but even that was too much. She moaned and rubbed against him, desperately needing release.
“Oh, jeez.” He lifted his head, panting for air. “Laura, wait, give me a second.”
“Are you saying I win?” Disappointment vied with triumph as she wondered if winning meant they would stop.
He narrowed his eyes. “Not a chance.”
With staggering skill he kissed a path over her chin, down her neck. “You want me, Laura. You know you do. All you have to do is admit it, and I’ll give you everything your body’s begging for.”
Is that what she got for admitting defeat? Him satisfying the ravenous need inside her? Suddenly losing seemed like a very pleasant proposition. She felt him lower the cuff that formed the top of her dress, trapping her arms against her sides. In a daze, she watched him cup her naked breast, then take one nipple into his hot, wet mouth. Her head fell back as her eyes closed. The sucking motion of his mouth tugged all the way to the aching emptiness between her thighs. The words “I surrender,” came to her lips, but when she opened her mouth to speak, the words changed to: “What happens if I win?” He kissed and nipped his way upward until his face hovered over her. A wicked grin lit his eyes. “Then you get to do anything you want to my body.”
The image of him lying naked on a bed completely at her mercy nearly sent her over the edge. He must have seen the reaction in her eyes, for he gave a low, sexy laugh that tantalized her senses. “Only that’s not going to happen,” he said as he nibbled her neck. His teeth grazed her earlobe. “Because, my sweet little Laura, in about two seconds, you’ll be begging me to take you.”
“Wanna bet?” She rallied her senses enough to grin as she worked her hands between them. She found his rigid length through his trousers. His breath hissed in as his body jerked taut. “Maybe you’ll be begging me,” she said.
“You may be right,” he breathed as he moved against her hand. The intent expression on his face, the feel of him so big and hard against her palm, thrilled her. She didn’t care who won, only that she felt him inside her.
Abruptly, he pulled her hand away. “Laura,” he panted against her lips as he took her mouth in another hard kiss. “Wrap your legs around me.”
Too lost in desire to argue, she let him hoist her up, and she wrapped her legs about his hips as she freed her arms to drape them over his shoulders. Their tongues entwined as he turned and started walking. Every step he took rubbed his hardness against her sensitized flesh. She was mindless with need by the time they fell together onto his bed.
She tried to pull at his clothes, but he eluded her hands. Her red-knit dress came up and over her head, leaving her with nothing on but her high-heeled sandals. When she tried again to reach for him, he clasped her wrists in one hand and pinned them to the mattress above her head. Stretching out beside her, he thrilled her with long, drugging kisses as his free hand played over her body. She whimpered in despair when he left her abruptly.
Dazed, she opened her eyes to see him standing beside the bed, pulling off his clothes. With his eyes devouring her, she became aware of her nudity and the fact that she lay sprawled on his bed, her hands above her head, her knees raised and wide apart as the spiked heels of her sandals dug into his mattress. Self-conscious, she started to close her legs.
“No, don’t.” His hand dropped to her knee, holding it in place. “Just, please, don’t move.”
Grinning, she wondered if he realized he’d just said “please”—the magic word of surrender. Then her gaze lowered to his straining arousal, and her thoughts fled as he sprawled beside her.
Clasping her wrists once more in his hand, he took a pebble-hard nipple in his mouth and suckled until she moaned and thrashed beneath him. Then he moved lower, kissing a trail over her quivering belly. He released her hands to spread her thighs.
One of his fingers slid slowly inside of her. When she whimpered with pleasure, he glanced up at her and grinned.
“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he breathed in wonder before he lowered his mouth to her. Just as the world started to spin beneath her, he pulled ba
ck, watching her intently as she floated back down. Then he did it again and again, driving her toward the brink of release, only to pull back at the last moment. She wanted to scream in frustration when she heard him chuckle. “Say the words, Laura.”
“Yes yes, I want you.”
“And you’ll have me. Just say you surrender.”
“I surrender. You win. Anything, just please, Brent, please make love to me.”
He slid up her body and sealed his mouth over hers. Weeping his name, she reached for him. “Shh.” He smoothed the hair from her face as he kissed her temple and cheek. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
“I want you. Now, Brent. Please. Take me. Love me. Now, please, now.”
He drove inside her, and the world shattered. She shuddered and convulsed, feeling as if she were dying, only to be reborn with fire and fury.
She couldn’t get enough of him. She needed him harder and deeper, all of him touching her, taking her. In answer to the pleas that tumbled from her lips, he hooked his arms behind her legs and pressed her knees to her shoulders.
Pinned beneath him, she planted her hands against the headboard to increase the impact of every hard driving thrust. She should have felt helpless, but instead she soared with power and desire as she watched the expression on his face, the straining muscles in his shoulders and arms. She wanted to give him more than her body; she wanted to give him her very soul. Arching her head back, she opened her heart to him and felt herself soar with the excruciating pleasure of being in love.
In that instant, he stiffened against her and spent himself in one glorious burst that shot them both to heaven.
Drive Me Wild Page 20