Delicious Delay

by Tara Quan

  “I’m just giving you the opportunity to have your way with me,” he offered, his face the picture of innocence.

  She hadn’t expected that answer. “I don’t quite follow.”

  He kicked one of his legs out and tangled it with hers. She stumbled and instinctively moved her hands forward to brace herself. Her palms flattened over his hard muscled chest when she landed.

  She traced the shape of his pectorals. “What do you do all day? Work out?”

  He chuckled, the low rumble all male. “I have access to the best personal trainers money can buy. They help keep me honest.”

  She shook her head in disbelief as the man preened. “Have you heard of a concept called humility?”

  “It’s not one of my virtues,” he admitted. “I’ve never understood the point.”

  She sighed. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

  He placed his forefinger under her chin and tipped her head up, his expression playful. “So what is a sweet, polite, goody two shoes doing on top of me?”

  Since she didn’t have an answer, she chose to prevaricate. “I’m far from sweet.”

  He trailed his knuckle along her jawline until he reached the back of her ear. “Why don’t you give me a taste so I can decide for myself?”

  She didn’t know if the pounding against her chest came from her heart or his. His jeans tented against her bare thighs—a reminder she might be in over her head.

  He splayed his hand over the back of her head. She parted her lips to ask him where this would lead. But before she could make a sound, his mouth closed over hers.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed. Even if she did, his mastery would have turned the memory to cinder. She faced a man, not a young boy experimenting with teeth and tongue. Instead of the comfortable joining of lips between two people more friends than lovers, he drowned her in a tangle of silk and steel.

  His tongue delved. She closed her fingers over his broad shoulders before trailing them down his triceps. One of his hands cradled her nape as the other spanned her back. The contact melted her muscles. With his arms snaked around her body, she felt captive even though she sat on top.

  She should be in charge. She should be taking the lead. Instead, his mouth set the rhythm and pace, guiding her through the sensual dance she only now realized she had barely known.

  She reminded herself this was just a kiss—a single, sumptuous, seemingly endless kiss that threatened to turn her brain to mush. All her concerns shimmered out of reach as he closed his teeth over her lower lip. She hesitantly brushed the tip of her tongue over his mouth. He pulled it in and lured her into a sensuous dance. When she retreated, he devoured. No time for thought or hesitation. No time for her to catalogue what movement led to the next. When it ended, her swollen lips throbbed, her body branded.

  Caution struggled to break through the haze of desire. “What if someone sees us?”

  “They won’t. The lounge is empty.” He brushed his lips against her jaw.

  She should try to get up, but instead, she tilted her head back and offered him her neck. “What about the people who work here?”

  His breath blew hot against her collarbone. “They’re busy doing their jobs.”

  She dug her fingers into his upper arms. “Isn’t that taking care of us?”

  He halted his exploration. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She nodded. “Of course not.” Exasperated with herself, she made a frustrated sound.

  He leaned back. His expression reminded her of a cat that had just lapped up a bowl of cream. “It’s clear you’re divided. Why don’t you tell me what’s holding you back?”

  A million reasons flitted at the edge of thought. She could only focus on one. “Isn’t public indecency illegal in this country? The last thing I want is to be thrown in a foreign prison.”

  He shook his head. “You watch too many movies, but I’ve learned arguing with you is futile. How about this—I’ll stay right here, with my eyes glued to the lounge, and let you seduce me?”

  Chapter Four

  “You seem pretty sure I’ll agree.” She wanted to be annoyed by his presumption. But she continued to lie on top of him, her breasts pressing into his chest each time she breathed. Her cheeks burned, and considering her hazed vision, her pupils must be dilated. Any attempt at projecting reluctance would fail.

  But his confidence made her want to punch him.

  “We’ve already established you’re attracted to me, and you don’t seem to find my personality abhorrent. Aside from your skittishness, there’s no reason for you to refuse.”

  She glared at him. “I’m not skittish.”

  He challenged her with a look. “Prove it. Kiss me.”

  She licked her lips. “I’m not a child. You can’t taunt me into doing something I don’t want to do.”

  He grinned. “But this is something you do want to do. I’m just giving you an excuse.”

  His statement hit too close to home. He had whetted her appetite, and she craved the next course. “I’m not going to sleep with you.” She leaned in. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was about to tell you when you distracted me.”

  He remained motionless. “There are quite a few steps between what we’re doing and sex. Your brain is skipping too far ahead.”

  Her lips hovered just above his. “I just wanted to make my intentions clear.”

  “Consider me your personal tasting platter.” He tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. Temptation laced his voice. “Give me your tongue. I’m delicious, I promise.”

  Already on the cusp of surrender, she relented. This time, his intensity didn’t overwhelm her senses. The acute awareness worked to her disadvantage. The smell of his musky cologne surrounded her. She tasted a hint of coffee and honey as she explored his mouth. More than just a soft brushing of lips and timid rasping of teeth, the almost too gentle contact made her toes curl.

  Her flip-flops fell off as she rose to settle her knees on either side of his hips. She lifted her hands and twined her fingers through his thick, curly hair. His coarse beard brushed over her upper lip and chin. The abrasion should have caused discomfort, but it barely registered. The feel of his tongue as it slid into her mouth distracted her from all other sensation.

  He soon coaxed her into a bolder rhythm. Craving contact, she explored his shoulders and chest with the tips of her fingers. He closed his hands around her waist and pulled her toward his body. The motion splayed her thighs and exposed her most vulnerable spot.

  He slid his palms down her lower back and cupped her bottom, forcing her to meet his arousal. Her increasingly sensitive flesh throbbed as she pressed into his hard length. Molten heat spread from her core. Her skin burned. Her body ached. Her breasts grew heavy and tight. Flashes of red seared the back of her eyelids as her heart beat a staccato.

  She ended the kiss. They should stop. The time to pull away passed eons ago. But instead, she trailed her lips down his neck, her tongue flitting over his pulsing vein. Part of her wanted to test his control—wanted to see what would happen if the reins slipped and instinct took over.

  Without warning, he slid his right hand under her T-shirt. Her back straightened. Her bottom lifted. His left palm settled over her neck and prevented her from moving farther. He positioned his thumb over her lips, reminding her to be silent. Keeping her top in place, he undid the clasp of her bra.

  Though still covered, her breasts sprung free. She closed her eyes and focused on not making a sound. Years had passed since anyone had touched her this way. She didn’t expect the roughness of his palms, the callused pads at the base of his fingers, or the hardened webbing between his thumb and forefinger. Her neglected flesh molded to his hold. Her nipples tingled and swelled. His grip on her nape tightened, preventing her from moving while he continued to fondle her with the boldness of a longtime lover. She needed more.

  As if he could read her mind, he brushed the pad of his thumb over one sensitized nub. Her
entire body jerked as he flicked his fingernail over her budding flesh. Once he teased it to a sharp point, he switched to her other breast.

  He lifted his hips and pressed his erection between her legs in a soundless command. Her lids fluttered open. She focused on his face through a fog of need as she settled over his groin and shifted in a steady rhythm. Each time the ridge of his zipper brushed the center of her shorts, heat coursed through her. Nerve endings fired to life, leaving her powerless and shaking with desire.

  “Paging passenger Michelle Day. Passenger Michelle Day, please report to the lounge reception.”

  Awareness seeped through her passion-addled mind. Icy claws of panic followed.

  She closed her hand over his arm. “Stop. We have to stop.”

  He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. After a moment’s pause, he redid the clasp on her bra before slipping his hands out from under her shirt.

  She launched off his lap and stood. Somehow, she retained the semblance of mind to keep her voice just above a whisper. “Oh my God. Someone must have seen us. Maybe we’re on camera. I’m going to get thrown in jail—”

  He rose to his feet and caught her forearms. “You’re overreacting. Calm down.”

  Her brows furrowed. “I am calm.”

  “You’re about to jump out of your skin.” His hold on her gentled. “I’m sure that announcement had nothing to do with what we were doing.”

  Her breaths turned shallow. Her heart pounded. Clammy sweat covered her skin. “How can you be sure? I can’t believe I just—”

  He cupped her cheek. “Breathe. Just breathe.” His tender expression grounded her. “Good girl. Why don’t you go to the reception desk and confirm you have nothing to worry about?”

  Once her pulse steadied, she couldn’t help but be furious with herself. She redirected her ire at the man who had tempted her to venture into potentially illegal territory. “What are you going to do in the meantime? Twiddle your thumbs?”

  He combed his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be right behind you. I just need a few minutes to make myself presentable.”

  She couldn’t figure out what he meant. His clothing seemed in place. In fact, he didn’t have a wrinkle on him. His wavy locks had morphed back to the precise shape they had been when he woke her up. The man’s constant state of physical perfection aggravated her.

  She dropped her gaze to his groin. “Ah. I see your problem. It probably is best you stay here for now.”

  ***

  “So, was I right?” Kal asked as he ambled over. His long strides brought him to her side with remarkable speed.

  Michelle clenched her fingers over the strap of her tote. This wouldn’t be easy. “Yes. They offered me an upgrade to first class. Someone must have noticed me eating with you.”

  He flashed a smile. “I may have planted the idea. This way, we can keep each other company during the flight.”

  “I turned down the offer,” she replied, her voice flat.

  He frowned. “Why on Earth—”

  Though painful, she preferred to just yank off the Band-Aid. “I don’t think we should spend any more time with each other.”

  He reached her side. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  She focused on the La Matina emblem on his shirt—twin horses with crossed polo mallets. “I’m not. Very little puts things into perspective like fear of incarceration.”

  He caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “You’re not making sense.”

  She removed his hand from her face and stepped back. “I’ve been acting out of character. You make me act out of character. Whatever this is,” she pointed to him and back at her own chest, “it’s not meaningless or casual.”

  A muscle ticked on the side of his cheek. “You’re overanalyzing this.”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell. “That may very well be the case, but I don’t want to get hurt. For reasons I don’t understand, I like you. I can’t separate sex from emotions that go along with it.” With difficulty, she lightened her tone. “If I had a one night stand with you, I’d be in tears the morning after. My face gets all red and splotchy when I cry. It’s not pretty.”

  He reached for her. “What if—”

  She shook her head. “Don’t even think about it. You’re just not the long-haul type of guy. You’re not even the medium-haul type of guy. What’s the lengthiest relationship you’ve ever had?”

  He rolled his eyes. “If memory serves, you’ve only had one.”

  She shrugged. “And it lasted over seven years. Look, our life philosophies couldn’t be more different. It won’t work.”

  She shifted her gaze to the clock on the far wall. They had less than two hours before boarding. She straightened her shoulders. “I’m going to take a very long shower. Then I’m heading straight to the plane. I’ve made sure we’re seated in different sections. There’s no reason for us to cross paths again.”

  ***

  “Open the bloody door.”

  Michelle almost choked on the toothpaste foam in her mouth. Though muffled by a thick wooden barrier, she recognized Kal’s voice. What the heck drove him to enter the women’s bathroom?

  “Do you want me to go and bribe the spa attendant for a key? You know I’ll do it, and you know she’ll give it to me. So move your little tush over here and let me in.”

  Alarmed, she rinsed out her mouth. “You wouldn’t dare. Even you aren’t that crazy.”

  “The rules don’t apply to me in this country. I can get away with murder. Breaking into the shower room wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow. Now, are we going to have a civilized conversation, or should I start pounding on wood like they do in the movies?”

  Since his voice had gotten louder with each sentence, she raced over and turned the latch. The thick, heavy panel swung open seconds later.

  “You can’t be in here,” she hissed. “I don’t care who you are. The entire Arabian Peninsula is fanatic about male-female segregation. If someone saw you—”

  The door crashed shut behind him. “If you hadn’t noticed, the men’s room is right next door. The only attendant around is at the spa entrance. All I did was turn left instead of right.”

  “You were bluffing! You wouldn’t have made a scene.”

  He gave her a pitying look. “Of course not. I have no desire to be on the cover of Hello. Has anyone ever pointed out you’re entirely too gullible?”

  “No one,” she ground out, “has gone out of their way to trick me.”

  He patted her shoulder. “You live a sheltered life. We were in the middle of a conversation when you stormed off. I’d like to finish it.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “That was a while back. Why the sudden impulse?”

  He made an exasperated sound. “My being here is an extreme departure from normal behavior. I didn’t just suffer a stroke. I needed time to think things over.”

  She lifted her chin. “What’s there to think over?”

  He jabbed his finger into her chest. “Your misbegotten notion that I am incapable of long-term relationships.”

  “If you had to take time to think about it,” she pointed out, “then it probably wasn’t a misbegotten notion.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Fine. You have a valid point. But according to a girl whose opinion I value, past behavior is not always a good predictor of future actions.”

  She hated it when someone used her own words against her. It ranked a notch above being called “a girl” at the top of her list of pet peeves. “You have an established pattern as well as motivation to continue. True or false—you’d rather sleep with me once and never see me again?”

  His hands warmed her shoulders. “Isn’t it obvious what the answer is? Why the hell would I have snuck into the women’s bathroom if all I wanted was one night? Trust me, there are much easier ways.”

  She attempted to stare him down and failed. “Are you trying to convince me this isn’t about sex?”

  “Of course it’s about sex
.” When she stomped her bare foot on his toes, he elaborated. “I want us to exclusively have sex with each other, and there is no expiration date set on the arrangement. I think you could consider that a relationship.”

  She gaped at him. “I so would not.”

  He counted off his fingers. “We enjoy each other’s company. We’re intellectually and physically compatible. We’re moving to the same city. Is there some reason why you think this attraction isn’t worth pursuing?”

  Something about the way he looked at her took the wind out of her sails. “It’s not what you want,” she argued. “You’ve said as much.”

  “Of course not.” His voice gentled. “I don’t go out of my way to look for complications. The last thing I want is to have to factor another person into my plans. You feel the same way. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be traveling alone.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

  He didn’t break eye contact. “What’s between us is worth exploring. The pleasure I derive from being with you—from just sharing a meal with you—outweighs all the headaches you will undoubtedly give me.”

  The corners of her mouth quirked up. Reluctant laughter bubbled inside her. “You sure didn’t get women into bed by being romantic.”

  He seemed to be holding his breath. For once, he didn’t look like the personification of self-assurance.

  “I find you interesting. You make me laugh, and I like making you smile. I thought I should just tell you how I feel and hope it would be enough.”

  Something inside her shifted before falling into place. She didn’t know for certain if they would end up with a happily ever after, but what she felt for him warranted a journey. “Did you need to barge into the women’s shower room to make this speech? You had a fifteen-hour plane ride to make your confession.”

  “I may have been a tad impatient,” he admitted. “But this place is certainly more private.”

  She shook her head in mock disapproval. “You haven’t been very concerned about discretion thus far.”