by Kat Cantrell
In response, she crawled onto the bed, snagging his arms and spreading them wide on the mattress as she settled astride his hips. With so much Val stretching out between her legs, she scarcely knew where to start. Seemed as if he knew. His powerful thighs flexed, pushing into her crevices with such beautiful, encompassing friction that she gasped.
“You were saying?” he murmured.
“Shut up, I forgot what I was talking about,” she muttered and let it all go in favor of drowning in the renewed fire Val had easily stoked a second time. “You’ve created a monster. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”
“Supremely.” He sat up, capturing her in his tight embrace, and the position slayed her as his hardness abraded her center. “But I haven’t created anything. I’m simply letting you be your true self and reaping the benefits. Win-win.”
That was...spot-on. It resonated through her as easily as he’d invoked desire. Val was her conduit to her true self, and she had free rein to be greedy with it. They were a much better team than she’d ever anticipated.
Twelve
Val had a naked Sabrina in his lap, her delectable legs wrapped around his waist and, for some unknown reason, he’d started a conversation.
He was clearly doing it wrong.
He rolled with her still in his arms and got her situated under him. Better. Capturing her smart mouth in a long searing kiss, he shut her up with one long stroke of his tongue. Better still.
Not that he hated it when she talked. It was only that he had so many other more important things he wanted to do with her mouth. Like taste her heat. He lapped it up with great, greedy gulps, sliding deep into the notches of her body in order to nest them tighter together. Her body welcomed him, exactly as he’d imagined so many times.
No. This was far, far better than his imagination. Sabrina burned like a bright flame, her iciness as far away as the east from the west. He’d done that, melted her with a carefully applied seduction campaign, and the victory tasted so sweet.
Frankly, he’d almost given up hope that he’d be with her like this, and he recognized it as the gift that it was. Her long, cinnamon-colored hair spread out on the comforter, begging for his fingers, so he indulged himself with a handful of it. The strands wound up through his fingers, and he pulled gently, exposing her neck to his lips. Fitting them to the hollow at her throat, he nibbled his way down, reveling in her soft gasps.
This was every bit an extended culmination of their courtship, and he could not get enough of her throaty sounds of pleasure as he dipped farther down, exploring her in the way he couldn’t have in the kitchen. She’d been too hot, too needy, and he’d had to wholly concentrate on her pleasure to take the edge off.
Now it was his turn to bring himself pleasure. That ridge at her hip—it was so tempting that he had to run his tongue along it, just to taste. Fire and woman erupted beneath him as he licked, and that was so arousing that he swirled his tongue along the line of bone that arrowed straight to her core.
Pushing her thighs wide, he took the next lick between her folds. Her hips bucked, driving her deeper against his lips, which put her closer to where he wanted to be anyway. More of her silk gathered along his tongue as he explored that part of her thoroughly. She liked it best when he circled her pleasure center with little teasing strokes and then flattened his tongue for a longer taste. Her cries emboldened him, and he worked her faster until she bowed up, coming apart a second time.
That’s when he sheathed himself with a condom and slid into place to notch himself at her heated entrance. As he pushed inside, he slowed down, savoring the sense of completion that washed over him the deeper he slid.
She watched him, her hair tangled around her head in a halo, her lids at a slumberous half-mast in the wake of her orgasm. The smug sense of satisfaction seeping through his chest couldn’t be helped. He’d hoped to unleash her—he’d gotten his wish.
Moving to the internal beat of his heart, he lost himself in the pleasure that was joining with Sabrina. He couldn’t lie. Part of it was so sweet because she’d been such a puzzle to unravel, so challenging at every turn. Making love to her was icing on that cake.
But as she rose to meet each thrust, he began to drift into another world where nothing existed but the two of them, and he had to revise that. Sabrina was the whole cake. She filled him to the brim with her energy. Nothing could have prepared him for the glory of being with her when she let her guard down. It was humbling, exciting, fulfilling. Not feelings he’d ever associated with sex before.
But this was far from just sex. Maybe it never could have been between the two of them. Their dynamic had been off-kilter from the first, and he’d never fully recovered. He looked down into her molten gaze and saw a universe of things he scarcely understood—but wanted to.
Faster now, he chased his pleasure until the tight, sweet rhythm clamped over his whole body, and he came with a long shudder. Gathering her close, he held her in his arms through the aftermath, both of them quaking. This was so far beyond what he’d hoped this night would bring and, as he breathed in her scent, he blessed the fact that she’d gotten into his car after all.
And, if he had his way, she wouldn’t be leaving. All weekend. How he’d talk her into that he didn’t know yet, but there was so much more between them he wanted to explore that he couldn’t fathom getting to all of it in one night.
“Now I’m ready to eat,” she said brightly with a lusty sigh.
“Really?” He didn’t bother to hide a smile. “I was thinking I never wanted to move again.”
“Don’t be silly.” She sat up, taking all her delicious heat with her, and his arms got cold so fast that he blindly scouted around for her hand with the sole intent of yanking her back to the mattress. “That was better than the best workout, don’t you think? Energizing. I could run a marathon. Probably.”
She easily pulled her hand from his loose grip, and he groaned good-naturedly. “You’re not natural, woman. That was supposed to be relaxing to the point where we can drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.”
“Can’t help it,” she told him primly and bounded from the bed. “I didn’t get dinner, and you’re the least relaxing man I’ve ever met. Get over it.”
Blearily, he watched her buzz over to his dresser uninvited and open all of the drawers until she found what she was looking for—a T-shirt and gym shorts with a tie waist. They hung on her lissome body like those After pictures of people who had lost a lot of weight. She’d never been more beautiful, and he wanted her all over again.
Perhaps there was something to her point about being energized. He sat up and found that he could in fact move his body if he really applied himself. But when he reached for her, she danced out of his way.
“Oh, no,” she said, wagging her finger. “Judging by the look on your face, pasta is not in my future if I let you get your hands on me.”
“Smart girl,” he muttered and had no shot at hiding his disappointment as she shooed him out of the bed.
Getting dressed presented a whole new set of challenges as she laughingly tried to help, her fast hands smoothing over his flesh in deliberate little teases that were not overly conducive to introducing clothing to his body. Somehow, they both wound up covered, but how she wasn’t hot and bothered like he was he’d never know.
They ate the spaghetti at the island, both perched on stools swiveled toward each other, legs intertwined, and it was the best meal he’d had in a long time. Sabrina’s eyes sparkled in a way he’d never seen before. Almost as if she had carried around this layer of frost that had shaded everything and, with it removed, her vibrancy shone through undimmed. It was breathtaking.
“Stay the weekend,” he said impulsively, but quickly warmed up to the idea the longer he thought about it.
She blinked. “Like overnight? I didn’t bring anything with me.”
“That�
��s not an objection. Or rather it’s not a reasonable one,” he amended. “I’ll take you home to pack whatever you want. Better yet, I’ll take you shopping.”
Dubiously, she eyed him. “Isn’t that moving a little fast?”
Not really. Maybe. He didn’t care. “You took me shopping on our first date. I’m only returning the favor.”
“You know what I mean. And that was not a date.”
“I paid for the snow cones and kissed you. How is that not a date?” The label mattered not at all, but he liked riling her and, as a reward, he got twin stains of pink blooming in her cheeks.
“Do you always deflect when you don’t want to talk about the real issue?”
That was not the kind of riled he’d been shooting for. Sobering, he took in her serious expression. “I’m not deflecting.”
“Staying over implies things. What, I don’t know yet. I need to before I can answer.”
“How about: Don’t overanalyze, and stay because you like the idea of sleeping in my bed. Waking up to me. Eating the fantastic breakfast I’ll make for you in the morning. Pancakes,” he promised with an eyebrow waggle. “If you’re lucky.”
Twirling in her seat, she untangled their legs and faced him. Normally, he’d call that her no-nonsense pose, but she was so cute in his gray T-shirt that he almost couldn’t take it.
“Val. I’m trying to have an honest conversation here.”
“What do you want me to say?” He swallowed. “That this thing between us is bigger, deeper and/or stronger than what I’d expected? That I want to be with you 24/7?”
Something akin to shock darted through her expression. Too much. Too soon. His conscience was screaming at him to backpedal.
“Not even close,” she mumbled, her voice thick with...what? Distaste? Panic?
He had no experience with this kind of conversation. Or with this kind of uncertainly swirling through his chest.
“Good, because that’s not what’s going on here.” She bought that lie. Her spine relaxed and, conversely, his stiffened.
Was it so bad to talk about the things going on inside him? Was she really not okay with knowing the truth about how he felt? Because that was crap. While he might have origingally pursued her strictly to best his brother, she’d come to mean something much bigger than that to him.
They were a team. He liked that. Whatever else that meant he didn’t know yet, but how the hell was he supposed to figure it out if she took off?
“What is going on here then?” she asked.
A reasonable question. It shouldn’t make him itchy. But all of a sudden, he was afraid of the answer. “Lots of sex. All weekend long. We haven’t yet begun to exhaust the limits of pleasure I have in mind for you.”
Intrigue slowly filtered through her demeanor, replacing whatever she’d had going on before. “I do like the sound of that.”
“It’s settled then. I’ll drive you home to get your things.”
It was only after he’d parked in her driveway to sit idle while she dashed inside that it occurred to him that he’d edged out Jada Ness in favor of Sabrina. Drinks with Jada tomorrow night had gone by the wayside, which was not a good thing.
That’s when he panicked. He’d never blown off a date with a woman, especially not one that held such monumental importance to him. He had to fix this or it might mess up his inheritance. What was wrong with him?
And then he began to wonder whether he’d subconsciously forgotten about the designer because he’d started falling for Sabrina.
* * *
The weekend did indeed end up being a smorgasbord of sex, and Sabrina couldn’t find a thing wrong with that. Val brought new meaning to the terms sensual and passionate, and when he aimed all of his considerable charms at her, she pretty much spent every moment in a giant puddle of pleasure.
She scarcely knew whether to go with the flow or bring up what was going on between them again. The first time hadn’t gone so well. All she’d sought was some kind of clarification. This was all new and different for her. She’d never been with a man like Val, one she could imagine trusting. One she could envision laying out some kind of long-term agreement with. One she could...well, anything more than that was too much to contemplate, especially since he’d been so clear that she shouldn’t expect him to take their relationship seriously.
Sex. That’s what he wanted. What he’d sweet-talked her into. Sure, she’d wanted it too. What breathing woman wouldn’t be ecstatic to have Valentino LeBlanc at her service?
Except...it felt like there were still unsaid things between them. As if she should press him on it. But probably that was her paranoia talking. She didn’t do secrets well, and neither could she accuse him of having some without coming off as possessive at best. Crazy would be more on point of how he’d view it if she started demanding he tell her everything about his every move.
Not that she intended to. But still. She didn’t like the uneasy, skittery feeling that she left his house with Sunday night. Probably, things would settle naturally once they moved back into a working relationship Monday morning.
That’s not what happened. The moment she stepped into Val’s office at LeBlanc for their normal 7:00 a.m. session, he cornered her up against the door.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured and dropped her into a searing kiss that got out of control instantly.
Her passions had been unleashed, oh yes they had, and the hot, slick curl of his tongue on hers enflamed her to the point of irrationality. The uneasiness melted away under his onslaught. Ravenous, she sucked him in, her back scraping the door as his clever hands skimmed under her skirt. Questing fingers slid beneath her soaked panties, and she gasped as those fingers twisted into her core. Bursts of light exploded behind her eyelids, and she came while riding his hand.
Within half a second, he’d freed himself from his pants and rolled on a condom, then boosted her up. Right before he pierced her, he caught her gaze and held it as he lowered her down onto his length until they were joined. Val was wearing one of his, oh, so sexy suits while he made love to her, and it was so hot she nearly asked him to stop so she could take a picture.
But then he began to move inside her, and she lost every last marble in her head.
Slowly, so achingly slow, he levered them both to a higher plane and, five minutes after she’d crossed the threshold, he had her panting through a second spectacular climax without even undressing her. That was talent.
He groaned through his own release and let his head tip forward against hers as they both went boneless. If that’s how things were going to go from now on, she was a fan.
Finally, he released her, helped her get her clothing set to rights, and then they dove into work. The secret smiles he shot her did nothing to erase the memory of his hot hands on her body. Not that she tried very hard. He’d broken down her barriers in more ways than one.
At five to eight, the witching hour when she had to leave, she yanked her mind out of Val’s slim cut charcoal pants and remembered to ask about the designer he had been trying to land.
“Have you spoken to Jada Ness?”
“No.” Val’s gaze flickered. “I need to talk to Legal about drawing up a contract that I can present to her. Thanks for the reminder.”
“You’re welcome.” The flicker grew some shadows, and she searched his face for some explanation of what had tripped her radar. There was nothing there but Val and the slight smile that seemed a permanent part of his expression lately. The vague sense of having waded into quicksand didn’t ease.
She dropped it. A first. In the past, if a man gave her the slightest hint that he’d been keeping things from her, she bailed. Instantly. No second chances, no explanations. Her heart wasn’t available for shredding.
The next morning, Val greeted her much the same way as yesterday—hot sex, mostly dressed, this time on his desk. On
Thursday, she learned exactly how little room there was for two people in his chair and how that allowed for some very inventive moves. By the weekend, she’d long since given up the idea of the two of them returning to a business-only relationship. And she’d yet to exhaust her craving for Val.
LeBlanc’s quarterly reports came out, showing a nice month-over-month increase that may have been more attributable to Xavier than Val, but the will didn’t specify any caveats—an increase was an increase. Val celebrated by taking her to a five-star restaurant and ordering the most expensive champagne on the menu. They spent nearly every night together, and she’d started to practice what she would say if he asked her to move in with him.
Though not out loud. They’d yet to revisit the conversation he’d cut short that first Friday night when she’d asked what they were doing. The time for that question had come and gone. They were still having a lot of sex, but the way he looked at her sometimes while in the throes hooked her in the chest and would not let go.
She was falling for him. So much so that she found herself daydreaming about him at odd moments, imagining his smile or the way he’d seamlessly incorporated her into his life. They giggled at each other’s jokes in bed long into the night when they should have been sleeping, and then capped that with more long, languorous lovemaking sessions. As a result, she grew more and more exhausted. Less able to concentrate.
It frustrated her to be so scattered. Instead of coaching Val, she’d turned into his lover who occasionally talked to him about his day and offered advice about a sticky situation that had happened at the office. That wasn’t working for her either, especially since she was still getting paid for a job that she wasn’t doing. Not fully.
Okay, it was working. Her life had taken an unexpected, amazing turn that she still hadn’t fully reconciled. But still, there was room to have both a man and a career, right?
“We have to talk,” she told Val one night when he met her at the door of his house, as was his custom lately because he couldn’t wait for her to use the key he’d given her.