One-Click Buy: September 2010 Harlequin Blaze

by Lori Wilde

  Which would be convenient if the begging paid off, actually.

  That visual, him on his knees in front of a very naked, very turned-on Drucilla, sent a surge of passion straight down his belly and into his dick.

  “We shouldn’t…”

  Oh, no. He wasn’t letting her protest. He wasn’t even letting her out of the car. To hell with the room. He shoved the center console up and in a fast, easy move, pulled her over so she was lying half under him.

  Oh, yeah. His dick was so ready to beg.

  Alex took her mouth in a hot, wet and wild kiss before she could voice the shocked protest he saw in her eyes. One sweep of his tongue and those eyes fogged with passion and she met his kiss with equal fervor.

  Thank God. The ice queen had melted away, leaving behind the sexy fairy princess he’d fallen so hard for.

  THERE WERE PLENTY OF intelligent reasons to stop. It was totally insane, argued the protesting voice in her head. But Dru couldn’t hear a single one of those reasons over her body’s purrs of delight.

  God, she’d missed the taste of him. Two days or a million years, she knew she would have lost her mind if she’d had to go another minute without having his rich, sexy flavor on her tongue. Or worse, without feeling Alex’s magical hands, those fingers teasing and tempting her to the highest reaches of physical delight.

  She shuddered as those fingers moved higher up her thigh, sending shivers of passion coiling tightly between her legs. The kiss deepened. Heat swirled around them, throbbing desire worked its way through her system.

  Her brain warned her to stop. They were in a public place, they were colleagues, they weren’t the people they’d pretended to be when this kind of thing was okay.

  And at the same time, Alex made her want to shove him down, strip him naked and ride him in wild abandon until they both screamed in ecstasy.

  As if he could hear her thoughts, Alex flipped the switch. The sweet, almost reverent teasing changed to sexy torment. His palm slid under the hem of her skirt, nails scraping along the crease where her thighs met. Higher, higher, until his index finger traced the lacy edge of her panties.

  “I want these,” he whispered against her throat. “Take them off.”

  “You’re crazy,” she protested. But her breathless words sounded weak, even to her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “We’re in the car.”

  His finger slipped beneath the lace, flicking her wet, swollen bud of desire. Dru’s thighs went lax, spreading wider in invitation. But he didn’t take it. He pulled his hand back, fingers still tracing erotic patterns against her thighs. But he didn’t touch her. Not the way she needed.

  “Take them off,” he repeated.

  She wanted to protest. She wanted to tell him again that he was crazy. But she wanted the pleasure he offered even more. Her eyes locked on his, she lifted her hips in invitation.

  “Take them off for me,” she instructed.

  His eyes locked on hers, he straightened. He released her hair, then glided both hands, palms flat, up the length of her thigh. His fingers pressed, both hands together, at the wet, aching crux of her legs before he swept them sideways to her hips. He hooked a finger under each side and slowly, torturously, slid her panties off her hips, over her thighs and down to her knees.

  With a wicked grin, he leaned over to slip the fabric off her calves, pressing his mouth to her bare thigh while he was down there.

  A moan escaped before she could stop it. Heart racing, she met his eyes. Nerves and excitement swirled together like dervishes in her belly. Then he leaned forward again, tracing his tongue in the exact spot he’d just kissed.

  Dru swallowed, trying to wet her throat. All the moisture in her body had definitely pooled between her legs. Unable to resist, she ran her fingers through the tousled length of his hair where it lay against the back of his neck.

  Still holding her gaze, he ran his tongue along the crease where her thighs pressed together. She shivered, her fingers tightening in his hair. He held up her panties like a trophy, then dropped them on his lap before curving his fingers under her skirt and up her hip.

  He shifted, sliding up her body, leaving trails of tingling desire, until he reached her chest. He nibbled a sweet path of kisses along the deep vee of her dress at the same time his fingers found their target, swirling around her aching, wet clitoris so fast she gasped.

  One finger, then two, slid inside her. He thrust, in then out, twice, then three times while his thumb continued a sweet tormenting rhythm of her swollen bud.

  This was insane, she told herself. They needed to stop.

  Then he closed his mouth over the sensitized tip of her breast, nuzzling her fullness before he nipped at the peak.

  That’s all it took. She exploded. The climax ripped through her so fast she couldn’t even suck in enough breath to moan. Instead, she gave a keening little gasp, pressing against his hand to hold tight to the sensations rocking through her system.

  Oh, God. It was even better than she’d remembered. How was that possible? He was…everything. Too much and not enough, both at the same time.

  She needed him more than she needed air.

  “We can’t do this,” she protested when her head stopped spinning. She didn’t believe her own words, though. After all, she’d just done it quite nicely, thank you very much.

  “We not only can do it,” he said, his lips teasing her aching nipple through the thin fabric of her dress and bra. “We do it damn well.”

  He nipped through the material, sending an edgy shaft of desire spiraling through Dru’s already wet and swollen sex.

  Damned well, indeed.

  Her hips lifted of their own volition, seeking the pleasure only he could provide. More, she realized. She needed more than just his fingers.

  Greedy, she chided herself. Her body was still quaking with that delicious orgasm and still, she wanted more. She wanted him inside her. The big, hard, throbbing length of him, pounding a sexual rhythm that would send them both over that fine edge between pleasure and insanity.

  “No,” she protested, pulling her mouth away from his and trying to catch her breath. “We have to think about tomorrow.”

  “Let’s get upstairs and try out a few of my favorite fantasies,” he suggested. “Then we can do it again tomorrow, any position you want.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Exasperation didn’t stop her from shivering as his fingers slid down her thigh again. The tingling grew tighter, higher, stronger as his nails scraped gently her swollen, aching sex.

  “We work together,” she protested desperately, trying to gather her thoughts together long enough to remember the reasons why having another of those sweet orgasms was a bad idea. “We can’t… We shouldn’t.”

  Even as she said no, she shifted her head to the side so his lips could reach her throat. The man definitely had talented lips.

  “We should,” he argued. “We really, really should.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She shuddered, wanting so badly to give in. But she knew it’d be crazy. The sex, however amazing it would be, wasn’t worth the risk of him finding out the truth about her. She wasn’t the exciting, uninhibited woman he’d done so well on the beach. And she wouldn’t, couldn’t, risk what she had here for another round of sex.

  Which meant they couldn’t do this. No matter how much she wanted to.

  “You’re a scientist,” she pointed out as if she was accusing him of being some kind of degenerate. At the same time, she desperately tugged her skirt back down and tried to adjust the top of her dress so the wet spot wasn’t over her sensitive nipple. “You’re supposed to be geeky and uptight and have all kinds of sexual issues.”

  “Geek? Issues?” He stumbled over the words, obviously trying to catch up. Since he was sporting a hard-on the size of a nuclear reactor, she realized the only sexual issue he was probably facing was frustration.

  “That’s what science guys have,” she said with an ag
gravated push against his chest so he’d let her up. She had to get him off. Off her, she corrected quickly. See, her brain was so stuck on sex she couldn’t even think straight. Off. Now. She shoved again. “They have sexual hang-ups and unnatural attachments to Einstein and wheezy, gaspy performance problems.”

  This time he moved, albeit in slow motion.

  Well, apparently she’d found the Off button. Shock had rendered Alex sexless. His eyes did this sort of bugging-out staring thing and his mouth worked but no sound came out. She sneaked another glance at his lap and noted that shock hadn’t, however, deflated that lovely hard-on.

  She didn’t know if she should be proud of finding the button or beat her head against the window a few times as punishment.

  Of course, denial of that hard-on should be considered ample punishment enough, shouldn’t it? Her mouth watered and her fingers itched just a little, tempting her to take advantage of his shock and screw him senseless.

  “Einstein? Wheezy, gaspy? Who the hell have you been dating?”

  “Scientists,” she said, her tone acerbic. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

  Shock fading, he shot her a look that made her feel as if he was delving into the secrets of her soul. Feeling naked, she tugged at her skirt again and pressed her knees together.

  And was painfully—or pleasurably, depending on whether she listened to her pride or her body—reminded that he still had her panties.

  “You know, for a brilliant woman, you have an awfully disdainful view of your own colleagues. What do you do? Handpick losers and geeks for the express purpose of proving that hypothesis valid?”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say a word, he leaned over to press a quick kiss to her lips.

  “I’ll just have to change your mind,” he declared with a wink. Then he released the door latch and told her, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride.”

  And just like that, he was gone. She watched him stride toward the hotel, his jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger and his erection apparently not impeding his steps in the least.

  It was all she could do not to grab her keys and chase after him. Which, she was sure, had been his diabolical plan. Drive her wild, make her come, then leave her stewing in her own juices–so to speak.

  Now Dru did let her head fall back against the driver’s-side window.

  God, what was she doing? She was certifiable. But even as she desperately grasped for proof that she hadn’t lost her mind, her body reveled in the sensation of that climax still shimmering deep in her belly. The muscles of her thighs quivered, and she tried to catch her breath as her clitoris trembled in tiny orgasmic aftershocks.

  Sex. Semipublic sex, in her car. She was just asking to get caught. As if it wasn’t enough to risk her heart, her hopes. She had to risk her reputation, too.

  She swore. Alex was like some kind of sexual addiction she couldn’t get over.

  11

  DRU WHIPPED the pudding so hard, chocolate splatters covered the counter. Three nights ago she’d had a mind-numbing orgasm in the front seat of her car. And what was she doing for wild Saturday-night fun? Making dinner for her mom, who’d gotten sick from an apparent mold issue created by the leaking washing machine. Argh, could this week suck any harder?

  Three days. Three long, frustration-filled days.

  One minute she’d been wet, panting and having an orgasm in her car. The next, he’d disappeared like a cheap hooker in a vice bust.

  Oh, it wasn’t as if Dru didn’t know exactly what he was up to. He’d gotten her all hot and bothered and left her panting for more. He had her freaking out that he’d tell someone about them. About their relationship, such as it was. Then he’d disappeared without a word. No goodbye, no forwarding information. No response when she’d finally swallowed her pride and called his hotel room yesterday.

  It was punishment. He was paying her back for leaving him in Los Cabos. She knew it.

  Dru tossed the whisk into her mother’s sink, sending another spray of chocolate over the stainless steel.

  What a jerk. When she’d left, she’d been ending a vacation fling. And she’d left after they’d had mind-blowing all-night-long sex. He might not have been happy with the goodbye, but at least he’d been satisfied.

  Dru ripped a brownie into pieces, throwing it into the bottom of a parfait bowl. She tossed spoonfuls of the pudding over the cakey chocolate, growling as she remembered how hard it had been to make that phone call.

  She’d spent Wednesday acting like a nervous jack-in-the-box. She’d jumped every time a door had opened, a phone had rung. Sure, Glenn had explained that Alex had been called away. That while they were still waiting on the funding decisions she should have the team get started on the calculations.

  But she’d still expected to hear from him. After all, what kind of guy played tag under a colleague’s skirt and didn’t call her the next day?

  Apparently on-call rock-star physicists who had bogus emergencies at NASA.

  By Thursday her nerves were long gone and she’d just been pissed. What was he playing at? That, she reminded herself as she shook spoonfuls of Cool Whip over the layer of pudding, was why she’d warned herself to stay away from him.

  She’d actually lain awake plotting ways around Trifecta’s no-fraternization mandate. Really, she and Alex weren’t coworkers since he wasn’t employed by the lab. He was a visiting scientist, wasn’t he? So she shouldn’t have to worry about job security if she had a…fling.

  Another fling. She was so addicted to the guy, she was actually standing in her mother’s sterile white kitchen—a room the woman refused to paint in case they lost the house—considering ways to have another fling with him. With the man who, for all intents and purposes, held the current success of her career in the palm of his hand. Could you still call it a fling if you’d just had one with the same person?

  She licked the chocolate pudding off her knuckle and sighed. That image brought her to her senses. Getting involved with a coworker, even a loosely connected one, was bad enough. Getting involved with a coworker where the balance of power was so unevenly skewed?

  All bad. So, so, bad.

  She smacked the spoon so hard on the side of the bowl, it almost cracked the glass. Bad. Geeks and wheezers might suck in bed, but at least they were somewhat grateful to actually be there. They had the good manners to say thank-you the next morning, even if in some cases the thanks had been for the scientific breakthrough and not the mediocre sex.

  She’d just started shredding the second brownie layer when the doorbell rang. With a frown, she glanced at the clock. Her mother rarely had guests. A neighbor had stopped in an hour ago to drop off a casserole, though. Maybe word was out. If this kept up, she might only get stuck cooking one meal here this week.

  Brownie still in hand, she opened the door. And almost squished the chocolate treat when her fist automatically clenched. Alex was leaning against the door frame in a dark blue T-shirt and worn denim jeans that lovingly hugged thighs she’d spent hours dreaming of riding.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” she asked when she’d found her voice through the shock. “Miss me?”

  Considering he looked sweeter than the dessert she’d been making, she was forced to privately admit that yes, she’d missed him like crazy.

  But a lethal cocktail of anger, humiliation and rejection snuffed out the sentiment more effectively than if it’d been sucked into a black hole.

  “How’d you find me here?”

  “I bribed someone at County Records.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”

  He shrugged, then whipped a bouquet of Peruvian lilies out from behind his back with a grin. “I did. They gave me two addresses, but nobody was home at the other one so I tried here.”

  Her fingers itched to take the blooms and hold them to her nose and see if they smelled as sweet as they looked. But she could still taste the rejection. “Why?”

 
“Because I wanted to see you.” He didn’t lose his smile, but she could see a hint of impatience in his eyes.

  “Really?” She drew out the word to ring every drop of sarcasm from it possible.

  “Really,” he said, studying her mouth.

  She clenched her fingers and chocolate crumbled between the knuckles. She winced and looked at the mess. He followed her eyes, then, smile still in place, lifted the brownie, hand and all, and nibbled at the treat.

  She had to work at staying aloof, raising a brow and giving him a questioning look as if her insides weren’t melting. After all, how pathetic would it be if she oozed all over him so easily after he’d not only ignored, but practically abandoned, her for three days.

  “Mmm,” he murmured as he licked the chocolate. “Delicious.”

  “I bought them from the grocery store,” she said in breathless dismissal.

  She didn’t know what was better, the way he licked her hand, sending wet spirals down deep into her belly. Or the look of frustrated irritation growing stronger in his eyes when she didn’t cave to his charms.

  Now, wasn’t this a nice change after three days of helpless wanting, of being unable to contact him, of feeling like a horny loser with the sex appeal of a pile of dirty laundry.

  “How hard are you going to make this?” he asked, letting go of her hand.

  Smart-ass comment or scathing reply? Disinterest or disingenuous? So many directions she could go, so many ways she could salve her ego.

  Then she caught the look in his eyes. There was definitely raw passion. But underneath it was a needy sort of hope. Like yes, he wanted to strip her naked and smear that chocolate all over her body so he could nibble it off in tiny wet bites. But that maybe, like her, he was just a little afraid. Afraid of being rejected. Afraid of not measuring up. Or maybe—unless she was projecting, big-time—afraid that he was the only one feeling these fears.

  All those emotions that’d seeped through her defenses back in Cabo, the same ones she’d been fighting all week long, washed over her again. Teetering so close to love it hurt, Dru knew she should pull back to regain control.