by Dani Collins
Her expression was ravaged. His arms instinctually wanted to tighten around her again. Not just for her, but for himself. The constriction in his chest had eased while he held her, but now the magnitude of what they faced loomed over them like a thousand-foot tsunami.
He ruthlessly suppressed the shadows of apprehension it cast over him. He grabbed for normalcy and shifted to set her on the mattress, then rose to remove her shoes. He set them aside, then draped the blankets across her. He would have turned out the light, but he realized she was fumbling with her dress beneath the sheets.
“Do you want a T-shirt?” He fetched one and waited while she sat up and rocked her hips to wiggle the dress free. He looped the T-shirt over her head, and she pushed her arms into the sleeves.
“Wait,” she said when he started to put the dress on the chair.
She did a quick-change act, removing her bra with a release and a flick of the straps down her arms before she fished the beige satin from the neckline of the T-shirt. She handed it to him, then sank onto her back, sliding down and snuggling the covers up to her neck.
“I’m not usually like this.” Her eyes were swollen, her voice rasped.
“I know.” The day they’d met, there’d been a glow of optimism and conviction in her that had been exciting to witness. She’d been reshaping her life, and the self-assurance she had projected had been the kind only this sort of hit from left field could derail. “Good night.”
He leaned down and set his mouth against her own. Soft—it was supposed to be a soft kiss of comfort and good-night.
Which was a lie, he realized as the lightning strike happened, piercing into his belly and setting his blood on fire. He had wanted to see if it was still there, and it was.
Her mouth trembled under his, and her lips moved in welcome, inviting a deeper kiss. He steeled himself to give more than he took, even though he wanted to plunder her. He wanted to immerse them both in that wild excitement that hissed and sparkled behind his eyelids, promising fireworks.
He settled for holding her cheeks and caressing them with his thumbs as he rocked his mouth across hers, stealing and imprinting and lifting his head long before either of them was satisfied.
Damn, that was hard. Which was terrifying. He set his hands in the mattress beside the points of her shoulders. She would consume him if he wasn’t careful. There was no avoiding that conflagration, though. Not if he was marrying her.
He had to marry her. Letting her return to Canada so he could become some sort of long-distance father was unthinkable.
At least this way... No. He wouldn’t allow the lust pooling in his groin to make rationalizations for him.
He had to marry her for the sake of the baby. That’s all.
He turned out the light.
“I can’t marry someone I don’t know,” she said into the darkness, sounding despondent. “How are you okay with even suggesting it?”
He didn’t know that much about her, either. It concerned him that someone he didn’t know could affect him on so many levels—sexually enthralling him and emotionally tying him in knots. She was even destroying his basic autonomy since, married or not, his life would forever be influenced by the connection they now shared.
Even so, he let his weight settle back onto the mattress near her hip, oddly fine with marrying someone he didn’t know.
“My mother was sent to work in the country when she was seventeen. Do you know about that policy?”
“When all the students were sent to farms?”
“Yes. She was there for four years. One of her friends—she’s my aunt now—talked up my father. She adores him. Most do, once they get to know him. He’s the quiet sort who is always thinking. Highly intelligent and determined. My mother wrote to her parents saying he sounded smart and ambitious and kind. It was hard to move around in those days unless you had a good reason, like education or marriage. My mother wanted to return to Shanghai. My father wanted the opportunity of a bigger city. Their parents set it up, and he arrived on their wedding day. Both families were pinning their future on the marriage, but when my mother saw him, she learned he has bowed legs and a crooked spine.”
Ivy drew in a sharp breath. “You said—”
“From a nutrition deficiency.” He squeezed her arm through the blankets. “It’s not genetic. No one else in my family has it. My mother was upset that she hadn’t been told, though. She wouldn’t have asked for the marriage if she’d known, but as it turns out, he is smart and ambitious and kind. They’re very happy, but I wouldn’t be here—or here—” He waved a hand through the shadows to indicate the house. “And neither would this baby—” He nodded at her middle. “If she had known everything about him before she married him.”
“That is actually a very nice bedtime story,” Ivy said in a voice thick with emotion.
He had meant it as a reminder to himself that his parents had faced far more dire struggles than he ever had. They had provided him an extremely comfortable life. The least he could do was pay it forward to his own child. It would cost him hardly anything.
Just a wedding ring to a stranger.
A muted bell sounded. “Was that a door chime?” Ivy asked with surprise.
“My PA with your things.” He rose. “I’ll be right back.”
* * *
“You look unsure,” Jun Li said.
Ivy was confused. She was pregnant, but she was about to have sex with Jun Li for the first time. They were in his hotel suite in Vancouver, an extravagant set of rooms that she poked around like a wary cat, pausing to view the lights on the Lion’s Gate bridge through the wide windows before coming back to set her bag near the end of the sofa.
They’d just enjoyed an unhurried dinner on a terrace. Her skin felt sensitized by all the fresh air and sunshine. Her body was loose and relaxed thanks to a glass of wine and an excellent meal. When he’d invited her to his room and languidly kissed her in the elevator, she’d known this was exactly what she wanted.
“Would you rather I drive you home?” He paused in removing his jacket.
“I’m just nervous. I haven’t been with anyone besides...” She was saying too much when she was trying to convince Jun Li she was intelligent and mature and self-possessed. She was trying to be all those things.
“You’ve only had one lover?” His dark brows lifted as he meandered toward her.
“How many have you had?” she challenged lightly.
Jun Li pursed his mouth. “Numbers don’t matter,” he decided and picked up her hand to kiss her palm. His gaze grew somber as his breath warmed her hand. “But it does make me think a night like this is a more serious undertaking for you than it is for me. Perhaps we should hit pause.”
“No, I know. You’re leaving first thing. I don’t expect to hear from you again. It’s okay if you’re, um, seizing the moment.” She closed one eye.
“Is that what I’m seizing?” His mouth twitched with humor.
Each time she brought that ease to his expression, she felt a thrill of triumph. “If you want to.”
“Because you want to get over your ex?” He slanted a shrewd look at her. “Or get back at him?”
“Over. I’m not going to throw you in his face. Ugh, no. I don’t intend to speak to him ever again if I can help it.” She revealed some of her agitation by rubbing her thumb over his knuckle. “But I was hoping to also...um...pick up a few tips on how this is done.”
“Tips,” he repeated with bemusement. “On seizing a moment?”
“Yes. Like do I protect my back? Lift with my legs? What’s your best advice?”
He barked out a hearty chuckle at the ceiling then brought his gaze back to hers. The warmth and lingering laughter in his eyes made her heart soar.
“Ask for what you want,” he suggested in a voice that managed to seduce and reassure her at the same time. “Leave
if it doesn’t feel right.”
The fact he would say such a thing made this feel so right.
“I want to stay,” she said firmly. “But I don’t have a lot of experience. My relationship was mostly long-distance and...” She wrinkled her nose, appalled with herself that she was going to admit this, but she would never see him again. This was the magic of a one-night stand. No smirks or judgy looks to wake up to. What happened in this room stayed here. “I’ve never really seen the attraction in...” Hitting and quitting? “In a onetime thing. That puts all the pressure on the act itself, and I fear I’m boring in bed.”
No laugh. He only tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “At no time today have I found your company boring. I can’t imagine this will be any different.” His gaze traced her brow and cheek and lips. “But just so I’m completely clear... What do you mean by boring? Are you saying you’ve never had an orgasm?”
“Only self-induced.”
“Ah.” His mouth twitched again at her phrasing. “I think that tells us which one of you was boring in bed. Allow me to show you all my best moves. Let’s see if I can enlighten you as to the attraction.”
She might have smiled or said something more, but his mouth lowered to skate across hers. It was a light question and an offer. A seal of a deal that asked if she was ready to embark.
She was. A tingle went through her from just that. All he had to do was touch his mouth to hers and she was quaking with excitement, releasing a soft moan.
A rumble of satisfaction resounded in his chest while his mouth opened across hers with more purpose, drugging her with his lack of hurry. He stroked her neck with his fingers as he slanted his head and deepened the kiss by degrees, delving and discovering and devouring her.
She could hardly breathe and set her hands on his shoulders to ground herself, then immediately splayed her fingers to take in as much of his flexing strength as she could. The nervous part of her wanted him to hurry, and she tried to drag him closer.
He turned with her, pressing her back to the wall and coming with her to press his weight into her. He wove their fingers together as he brought her hands above her head while he continued to kiss her in that lazy, thorough way.
It felt a little dirty and sexy and wicked to be pinned like this. She tested his grip, and his eyes flickered open to meet hers. His mouth lifted slightly as he checked in with her. She didn’t want him to stop, though. She drew his bottom lip into her mouth and sucked, letting him know she was enjoying their play.
With a growl, his thick fingers flexed into the tender notches between hers. His hips pressed with more purpose, and he kissed her harder. Desire flared hotter, burning from her middle and licking into her erogenous zones. She quit thinking about anything except the way his deep kiss sent trickles of electric sensations to the ends of her limbs. Her breasts felt so tight they ached, but the pressure of him against her was divine. He held her at his mercy, forcing her to withstand the pleasure he was giving her.
She didn’t want to be passive, though. In an instinctive move, she lifted one leg and hooked her calf against his hard buttock, dragging him even closer. He was hard behind his fly. Really hard. With a slouch of his knees and a sweep of one hand, he brushed her skirt to her waist and pressed himself against her aching mound. His open mouth sucked against her neck, and she groaned with gratification.
He released her other wrist and ran both hands all over her, making her buzzing tingles turn to bright heat and snaps of heart-skipping joy. Oh, his touch felt good. She squirmed in ecstasy while that pulsing ache in her loins intensified. She was growing damp and needy for the feel of him there.
She brought his head back and kissed him, holding the sides of his head as she blatantly thrust her tongue into his mouth. She had never had much luck being the aggressor, but he seemed to love it. He groaned and sucked on her tongue and palmed her breast. He began rocking his hips against her, inciting her desire to greater heights. The knot of arousal in her middle tightened, building with promise.
This was what the attraction was. She wanted to hurry to the good part, but she also wanted to stay like this, fondling and playing her tongue against his and savoring the streaks of need that were flooding her loins with anticipation. The build was driving her wild, doubling and redoubling, and he was with her every step of the way.
Now his hand was under the skirt of her dress, stroking her thigh, taking his time when he must know she would die if he didn’t touch her more intimately.
“Jun Li,” she pleaded, dimly aware he would drop to his knees in a moment and give her a very flagrant lesson in how gratifying it was to experience an orgasm that was bestowed rather than one she—
“Ivy.” The world swiveled. Her eyes opened to darkness.
Her blood was screaming with arousal, her skin damp with perspiration, her body acutely stimulated.
Her hands were filled with his naked skin as he painted her against the front of his body. His chest mashed her swollen breasts through the thin layer of his cotton T-shirt.
“You’re having a nightmare.”
No, she wasn’t. She was on the brink of orgasm. Practically having a wet dream.
“You’re safe,” he said, smoothing her hair.
She should have rolled away and let the dark hide her, but she was so inflamed, she stretched herself in a line against him. Her arms slid up to twine around his neck.
If she hadn’t felt him stiffening inside his boxers as she moved against him, she wouldn’t have opened her mouth on his throat, but she did. And she did. She licked at the soft flesh under his jaw, nibbled at the sandpapery stubble and searched for his mouth while rubbing her breasts against him.
“What—?” His voice garbled a curse as her palm swept across his chest, scraping his beaded nipple. She came back to finger and rub at that tight pebble while her leg climbed to his waist so his growing erection pressed where she was throbbing so agonizingly.
As their mouths fused and his hair sifted between her fingers, his hand clasped her buttock and he thrust against her, fully hard and steely strong. She ground her aching flesh against that thick ridge.
It took only a few pulses of pressure and friction and the libidinous intrusion of his tongue making love to her mouth. The intense golden knot deep in her belly became white hot and suddenly released streaks of joy through her whole body. She moaned, feeling herself break free.
As rolling waves of orgasmic pleasure rocked her, colored lights flashed behind her clenched eyelids. She broke their kiss to catch ragged breaths between her cries of release.
* * *
Everything in Jun Li wanted to drag away the scraps of cotton between them and thrust into her. Was she even awake?
He was. The way she’d rubbed up against him and licked his skin had got him so hard so fast it hurt. Now she was shuddering and making the most erotic noises. His heart was slamming, and his instincts were screaming at him to roll atop her and sensually devour her. He wanted to thrust deep. Claim. Bring her back to explosion and empty himself inside her.
He might have, but she moaned again, this time with tortured realization. She ducked her head and brushed at his arms, trying to roll away.
His muscles reflexively tightened before he overrode his lizard brain and released her. His senses were so heightened, he swore the scent of apricot and vanilla off her skin was pure pheromones. All he could think about was licking every inch of her.
Could she even have sex?
“What just happened?” His voice grated against his own ears, and he thought he heard her sniff in reaction.
“Nothing. A dream. Go back to sleep.”
“About who?” She’d said his name, but had she been dreaming of someone else?
He reached out until he found the bumps of her spine. She was curled up like a pangolin.
“I don’t want to talk about it,�
�� she said in a voice muffled by pillows and blankets. “Don’t make me.”
Don’t make her talk? Or have sex? He wouldn’t, but, “Are you okay? Is there any pain? Is the baby all right?”
“Oh my gawd. Yes,” she hissed with another mortified noise and wriggled farther away on the mattress. “Why are you even here?”
He’d come back after an hour of imparting instructions to find her fast asleep. He’d left her case in the closet, out of the way so she wouldn’t trip if she happened to rise in the night, then debated whether to crawl into bed with her.
“I wasn’t planning to touch you. I wanted to be here if you woke up confused.” Or tried to slip away in the night.
“Well, go sleep somewhere else. Or I will.”
He should. He rarely slept with a woman, finding it disturbing. He had enough on his mind without being concerned he was flinging out an arm or snoring loud enough to wake a partner.
As he lay there debating, he heard her shaken breaths relax and even out with slumber.
Must be nice, he thought wryly. She was satisfied and he was far too aroused to drop off. He should go to another room, relieve himself of this erection and get some sleep, but he didn’t want to leave her.
And therein lay the reason he should.
He didn’t understand this power she had to pull him in and have him casting away his usually inviolable self-discipline.
Although was it really such a surprise when she had come apart with such abandon a few minutes ago? He gave himself a brief squeeze, both tortured and delighted to know she was still capable of such abandonment. Their night in Vancouver had been hot.
He relived it often, especially the part where she’d run her hands through his hair while he pleasured her with his mouth. The act always turned him on, but her response—the noises she’d made, the way she’d melted against his tongue and offered herself so unreservedly—had made him wild. When she had shattered, he’d almost lost control himself.
In the aftermath, she’d been so breathless and limp, he’d carried her to the bed like a warrior claiming spoils.