And she was currently having trouble keep her eyelids open.
Loretta, bless her heart, must’ve noticed. “Victor, don’t bore everyone with your work stories. Besides, we should really get back to the reception.”
Mr. Russo held out a hand again. “Good to meet you, Jason. Maybe we’ll talk more at that Labor Day cook-out.”
Jason shook his hand. “Sure thing, sir.”
They said their goodbyes, and her parents got on the elevator headed down, while they waited for the one going up.
“I told you that you didn’t need to put on a show, you know.” She sounded a bit perturbed for someone who’d just been granted a reprieve from her mother.
“I know, but I figured if your mom really thought we were together she might leave you alone for a while.”
“Well, yes, that’s true, I guess.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. He hit the button for six.
“Enjoy it while it lasted. It’s not happening again. I’m only giving you a pass on this little incident because we hadn’t covered rule number seven yet.”
“And what’s rule number seven?”
“No meeting the parents.”
“Ah-ha. Well, I’d like to add a rule.”
“What’s that?”
“Rule number eight: No sweeties, or sweethearts, or honeys, or babies.”
“Definitely, no babies.”
She laughed. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”
“Okay, yes, I do. But let’s still agree that rule number nine will have to be no babies.”
“Obviously.”
He smiled, appreciating how easy it was just to be with Victoria. But they’d slipped back into the friend zone between the parent-meet-and-greet and the rule making, and he didn’t quite know how to get things back to the sexual heat they’d had in the stairwell.
And holy crap, he wanted that back.
The doors opened on six, and he followed Victoria down the hall to her room, realizing that she wasn’t carrying a purse. “Wait. Do you have a key with you?”
Smiling, Victoria dug the key card out of her dress. “But of course.”
She unlocked the door, and they entered the modernly decorated suite. She tossed the key on the dresser and turned back to face him, biting her lip and looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself. “So…”
“So.”
“We’re really going to do this, huh?”
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected to have nerves right now. And if they hadn’t been interrupted, he probably wouldn’t have. But he’d had time to cool his libido, to let rational thoughts enter back into his brain, and to remember that he was playing with fire. Risking the easy friendship he had with Victoria on an experiment in friends with benefits.
“I guess so…” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”
She didn’t say anything but turned away to grab her cell phone from her purse, probably checking the time or something.
“I mean…I meant what I said, Victoria. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Or make things difficult at work.”
Without saying a word, she placed the phone on the desk. She hadn’t been checking the time. She’d been finding music. The song they hadn’t stayed at the reception long enough to finish streamed from her phone.
“I believe you had a very specific request,” she said, placing one of her gorgeous legs on the desk chair to undo the straps of her sandal.
Jason swallowed, knowing she was about to bring his earlier fantasy to life. She bent over the second sandal, her strapless dress gaping slightly in the front and revealing more of that tempting tattoo.
He sat on the bed, already forgetting why this might be a bad idea. He was ready to watch her dance. Ready to be tortured.
Chapter 14
Fake it ’til you make it. That’s all Victoria had to do. Just act like dancing and disrobing in front of a gorgeous, fully clothed man was no big deal. Act like her hands weren’t shaking and butterflies weren’t bouncing off one another in her stomach. Act like she knew what the hell she was doing.
That was a lot of fucking acting.
She turned so her back was facing him and reached behind to slowly unzip the back of her dress. To him, it would appear to be part of the show, the tease of revealing skin slowly, exposing her back inch by inch. In reality, it was a way to avoid looking at him, an attempt to keep the nerves at bay.
Except it wasn’t working.
She moved her hips in time to the music and forced herself to turn around and face him. Still swaying, she lowered the periwinkle dress just a fraction of an inch and raised her gaze to his.
Jason’s heavily lidded blue eyes devoured her, and he reached out, grabbed the dress and pulled her toward him.
She swatted his hand and backed out of his reach. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Meadows. You asked to be tortured.”
He growled and adjusted himself on the bed, visibly hard beneath his dark gray slacks. Seeing his arousal—it was all she needed to chase the nerves away. She was in control here, and power was an instant aphrodisiac.
Holding the dress with one hand, she slid her other hand down the smooth silk, tracing her own curves and touching the aching spot between her legs through the fabric. Jason stroked himself over his slacks, his eyes never leaving her.
“Victoria.” The command in his voice was unmistakable.
Smiling, she continued her striptease, fully embracing her role as temptress. She let the dress slide down on its own as she moved to the rhythm of the song.
“Come here,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I’m not finished yet.” The dress finally slid over the slight swell of her hips and fell to the floor. She hadn’t needed a bra, thanks to the construction of the dress, so she stood before him in nothing but a white silk thong.
“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Right now, in this room, with this man drinking her in with hungry eyes…Yes, she felt beautiful. And feminine. And sensual.
Grabbing him by the tie, she pulled him off the bed to stand in front of her. “Rule number five, Meadows.”
He wasted no time complying and wrapped his arms around her, one hand grabbing her ass while his tongue danced with hers. Her bare nipples grazed the fabric of his suit jacket in the most delicious way, sending swirls of pleasure through her entire body. Desperate to feel more, she arched against him.
Never breaking the kiss, Jason shrugged out of his suit jacket, and Victoria went to work prying apart the buttons of his shirt. She yanked the shirttails free, and he worked himself out of the dress shirt. The kiss was only broken for the half-second it took for him to yank his undershirt over his head and lose the rest of his clothes.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, the shock of skin against skin making her breath catch. Claiming her lips again, he walked her backward to the bed. She fell onto the white down comforter and savored the weight of him on top of her when he followed her down.
He explored her body with an urgency that surprised her. It was as if he couldn’t get enough. She closed her eyes and sank into the sensations of his magical touch.
His hands were everywhere—massaging her breasts, squeezing her ass, even running up and down the lengths of her legs. In fact, he seemed to have a particular fascination with her legs, at one point even kissing the sensitive skin behind her knee. All these years and she’d never known what she’d been missing having the back of her knees kissed. It was hot as hell.
She’d never felt so desired, so worshiped. It made her bold—made her want to give him a dose of the pleasure he was giving to her. Reaching between them, she took him in her firm grip and worked him over while she kissed and licked his neck. She reveled in the sound of his breath getting faster with each stroke and the way his grip tightened on her thigh.
“Mmm. Shit. Victoria, I can’t wait any longer.”
> “Condom,” she said, rolling away from him and rummaging through her purse on the nightstand. Behind her, Jason kissed her bare back, moving lower until the warm heat of his mouth was at that sensitive dimple just above her buttocks. Victoria arched and moaned, totally forgetting what the hell she was looking for. She started to roll back toward him.
“Condom,” he said.
“Right. Right.”
With fumbling fingers, she managed to locate one of the condoms she’d stuck in her purse at the last minute, deciding it was best to be prepared for anything at a wedding. She held the packet out to Jason.
“You do it,” he said.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Touch me, Victoria. Torture me.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she didn’t know the first thing about torturing a man, but she stopped herself. Because tonight she was living up to her name. She was Victoria. And Victorias were confident. Sophisticated. Sensual.
Rising up on her knees, she straddled his thighs and took his hard, long length in her hand. Slowly, deliberately, she stroked him up and down. He groaned, moving his hips beneath her, but she took her time, drawing out the process to torment him as much as possible.
The moment he was fully sheathed, he rolled on top of her and found her entrance, pushing the fabric of her thong to the side. He didn’t ask if she was ready, didn’t test the waters first, just plunged deep inside her with a desperation that matched her own. That’s what she’d wanted. What she’d needed. To be filled, stretched, possessed.
She arched beneath him, using her body to beg him to move faster, harder. His body must’ve understood because he did exactly that.
She found his lips again, her tongue slipping in to meet his in a dance that mimicked the one their bodies were doing.
After a few minutes, he pulled out and hovered over her, breathing hard.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. Nothing. I just need a second. Gettin’ a little too excited over here.”
“I thought that was a good thing.”
“Uh, not if you haven’t come first, it isn’t.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, don’t worry about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…you know…” She shouldn’t have said anything. He wouldn’t understand, and she sure as hell didn’t want to explain. “Never mind.”
“No, I want to know.”
“It’s nothing. Come on. Let’s not ruin the mood with talking. Come back to me.” Her hands on his backside, she urged him back to her, but he stayed just outside her entrance.
“Trust me, nothing could ruin my mood at this point. I’m so hard, we could hang a flag from my pole. It’s not going anywhere soon. So, spit it out. What did you mean when you said don’t worry about that?”
“Nothing. I mean…I like sex…It’s good. But I don’t usually…” She looked away from him, her gaze stuck on the ceiling. Embarrassed tears pushed at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them show. Knowing that people—including her own mother—had questioned her sexuality, her femininity…well, it sure didn’t make her eager to admit her defect.
“Don’t usually come?” he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle. And of course that just made the threat of tears stronger.
She cleared her throat. “Not this way.”
“You’ve never come with a man inside you?”
She shook her head, still avoiding eye contact. She didn’t want to see the judgment in his expression. The few men she’d been with had been so frustrated with her that she usually ended up doing her best impression of an orgasm so they could just be done with it already. And that had only been with the ones who’d cared whether or not she came.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered.
“Victoria, look at me.” He took her chin and gently turned her face toward his. She made herself meet his gaze and found his uniquely blue eyes regarding her with nothing but honesty. No judgment. No disgust. No frustration.
“I guarantee there is nothing wrong with you,” he said.
“How can you know that?”
“Because you said, ‘Not this way.’ That tells me that you have come and that everything’s in working order.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I know you have a healthy working knowledge of how your body works.”
She didn’t deny it. Women had the same needs men did and the same ways of taking care them on their own. She wasn’t embarrassed by it.
She was just embarrassed to be talking about it.
“So…show me,” he said.
“Show you?”
“Yes, show me how your body works, Victoria.”
“I…”
“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t get all shy on me now, Ms. I-want-to-live-in-the-moment.” He moved off her and knelt on the floor beside the bed. Gently, he took her hand and placed it between her legs. “Show me,” he whispered hoarsely next to her ear.
She closed her eyes. Embarrassment brought warmth to her face, and yet…Her racing pulse, the heat between her legs, her tightening nipples—she was undeniably turned on by his proposition.
“Now, Victoria.” His gruff voice and warm breath against the soft skin of her neck emboldened her, and she began to move her fingers beneath her thong.
He groaned. “That’s it. Show me how you like to be touched.”
Placing his hand over hers, he continued to whisper naughty encouragements in her ear. The gruff rasp of his voice combined with the illicitness of performing for him made her even more wet. She knew her release was imminent and she arched off the bed.
“Uh-uh. Not yet.” He stopped her hand with his own and she moaned in protest. “Up on your knees, Victoria.”
She complied, mainly because she was too strung out to think. The bed dipped behind her and she felt his hard chest against her back. He kissed her nape, wrapping his arms around her from behind. One hand did delicious things to her breast, while the other traveled south to stroke the sensitive wetness between her legs. Her head fell back on his shoulder and she reached back to sink her fingers into his short hair. He’d certainly been a quick study, his fingers working her with the exact same rhythm and circles she’d drawn there herself just moments before.
She held her breath, knowing what was coming, but again, Jason seemed to sense she was on the brink, and he stopped.
“Jason, don’t stop.”
“Shh. Get on all fours.”
Sure, fine, whatever. She’d do anything he asked as long as he brought that hand back to massage her aching core. She leaned forward, placing her weight on her hands and almost cried with relief when he reached around her again and returned his hand to her center. The pressure built, rising to an unparalleled crescendo and just when she thought she couldn’t be any more ramped up than she was, he moved her thong to the side and entered her from behind.
“Oh, God.” She couldn’t stop the words, couldn’t stop the dirty commands that fell from her mouth, the begging and pleading for him not to stop. He moved in and out with a steady, sure rhythm, stroking her with his fingers the entire time.
Unable to breathe, she gripped the sheets in her hands and pushed back against him, eagerly meeting each of his thrusts until the moment she finally flew apart. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced—the gentle rolling pressure of his fingers, the hard invasion of his cock, the involuntary flexing of muscles deep within her body. It was so good she couldn’t catch her breath.
Her orgasm started to recede and he grabbed her hips, pulling her back for one last hard thrust before he groaned and came inside her.
He stayed still for a moment, and the room suddenly felt too quiet. Victoria’s throat tightened, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what she was feeling beyond a general sense of being overwhelmed. He pulled out slowly and leaned over to kiss her shoulder. “See? What’d I tell you, Toria? There’s not one thing wrong with you.”
&
nbsp; He kissed her shoulder one last time then disappeared into the bathroom to clean up.
There’s not one thing wrong with you. She blinked back the stupid tears beginning to sting her eyes and nose, thankful he wasn’t there to see the emotion she was trying to keep in check. They’d made a deal. No messiness, just two people enjoying each other’s bodies and all the wonderful things two bodies could do together. She wasn’t supposed to develop feelings.
She stretched out on the bed and buried her face in the pillow, replaying the evening’s events in her mind. Jason kissing her in the courtyard, cutting in on her dance with Graham, and now this…
He hadn’t just given her the best orgasm of her life. He’d shown her patience and made her feel desired, whole, and…perfect.
Ever since the night of the newscast, she’d known she was at risk of falling for him, but when she made her friends-with-benefits offer in the courtyard, she’d somehow deluded herself into thinking she could do something like this, that she could keep the physical separate from the emotional.
Now she knew that was some seriously stupid wishful thinking.
*
Jason cupped his hands under the faucet and splashed cool water on his face. With one hand on the counter, he wiped the other down his face, pinched his nose, and flicked the excess water off his hand.
He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected Victoria to turn him inside out with need. Shit, even now, just the thought of her had his cock twitching back to life. Grabbing a scratchy hotel towel, he dried himself off and walked back into the bedroom.
Victoria was already back in her bridesmaid’s dress, sitting on the bed, legs crossed, buckling the strap of her silver sandal.
“What’s the hurry?”
She glanced up but quickly looked away from his naked form, searching out her other sandal. “I’m hungry.”
“Hungry? We just ate dinner.” It was suddenly imperative that she not leave this room. Whatever happened in that bed five minutes ago, it was good. So freaking good, he wanted to do it again. Right now. And maybe one more time after that if his muscles didn’t cramp up.
“I know,” she said. “But there’s cake. Did you see the cake? It’s supposed to have this amazing strawberry and vanilla crème filling.” She finished fiddling with the strap on the second sandal and looked up. “No worries though. I know you don’t like cake, but there’s also a dessert table with fresh fruit. I scoped out the whole food situation pretty early in the evening.”
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