His words brought heat rushing to her cheeks. She should never have admitted that. What had she been thinking?
As if sensing her humiliation, he held her tighter, not giving her a chance to move away as he continued to speak in that sexy baritone. “Much as I don’t believe it’s true, I know that you think it’s true, and that drives me crazy.”
Her lips parted as if to argue—no, I really am that bad. Just ask Jason. But he kept talking, not giving her a chance to reply. “Since no amount of talking is going to convince you that you are a sex goddess, I figure I’ll just have to show you.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks were on fire. Mark was talking directly into her ear so luckily her beet-red face was somewhat hidden, but still. He’d called her a sex goddess. The rest of his words sank in and her breath lodged in her throat.
He was going to show her. Desire pulsed through her at the thought. She was really going to do this. They were really going to do this. A nervous, self-conscious voice reared its ugly head. “If you’re doing this because you feel sorry for me—”
His hand reached up to turn her chin so she was facing him. His eyes were dark and hooded, the look so dangerously sexy it gave her a jolt of nervous excitement. He leaned in until his lips were so close to hers she could feel his warm breath.
He was going to kiss her. Oh God, this was really happening.
She held her breath in anticipation. But he didn’t kiss her. He stayed perfectly still until she grew so uncomfortably hot she started to squirm in his lap. His groan made her stop.
“Did I hurt you?” she whispered.
He cupped her face with his hands and let out a shaky laugh. “You’re killing me.”
Elizabeth froze, ready to jump off of his lap. How embarrassing. She’d been so hot and wet and he’d been….well, apparently she’d been crushing him. But when she made a move to leave, he gripped her hips, holding her still.
“Don’t move.”
She did as he said, staying frozen in place as she listened to his ragged breathing and the sound of her own erratic pulse. They were silent so long, the original awkward nervousness returned. Maybe she should leave. So far, she’d made him pity her into having an affair and she’d crushed his privates while trying to be sexy.
His gruff voice interrupted her spiral of self doubt. “Do you feel that?” He shifted, just enough so the hard length of him pressed against her bottom, rock hard evidence of his desire. “That’s what you do to me.” Heat spread through her again but this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with desire. He wanted her.
Temptation was overwhelming. Tentatively she wiggled against him. His sharp hiss of an inhale had her lips tugging up into a triumphant grin.
“So you’re a tease, huh,” he growled into her ear. She started to giggle but was cut short by his kiss. Hands in her hair, he held her to him, his mouth devouring hers, torturing her in turn.
His lips were firm and his mouth hot as it moved over hers, insistent and demanding. Her hands moved to his chest, which was hard and sculpted beneath his buttoned up shirt. God, he was hot. He was a hot, sexy bartender and she was….well, she was a high school math teacher. What the hell was she doing?
But before that thought could spark any sort of reaction, her mind went blank. His hands had moved from her hair and were caressing her neck, smoothing her shoulders, somehow finding the perfect balance between soothing her frazzled nerves and setting her body on fire.
She moaned as he tilted his head, urging her for even more access, caressing her tongue with his own. That moan turned to an all out whimper when he moved one hand back to her leg, this time starting at the edge of her dress and working his way up….and up.
She pushed against his chest so she could pull back long enough to catch her breath. Looking down, she stared at his hand on her bare thigh as his lips moved to her ear, nipping at her lobe until she was panting for air.
She was really doing this. Nervous excitement made her dizzy so she grabbed on to Mark’s shoulders. This was it. She was claiming this moment. Clasping the back of his neck, she pulled his head toward her and kissed him with all the passion and intensity that raged through her. Tipping over the edge, she let go of reason and sense, and followed the sensations that were urging her to take what she wanted and claim this man for herself.
For tonight. Just for tonight.
Her kiss seemed to unleash Mark’s restraint. He groaned against her mouth as the arm wrapped around her waist cinched tighter, pressing her breasts against his chest as their lips and tongues tangled in a kiss that left nothing but white heat in its wake.
She tangled one hand in his hair, holding him as tightly as he held her. She placed her other hand over his, where it rested beneath her dress, high up on her inner thigh. Pressing his hand against her, she urged him to keep going. She was wet and hot and throbbing with need.
He obliged quickly, his fingers closing the distance until they reached the thin silk of her panties, brushing against her gently. Too gently.
She moaned, her hips tilting, straining for more. She felt his smile against her lips. “Is this what you want?” he teased.
She licked her lips. “More.” Her voice came out husky with need.
His fingers lightly stroked her through her panties, teasing her, stoking the fire but not nearly enough to satisfy. She couldn’t stop the desperate moan that escaped her.
He moved his lips so they were next to her ear. “Tell me what you want.”
A shiver raced through her at the dark desire in his voice. She battled the sudden surge of nerves that threated to choke her. He was testing her. Seeing if she really wanted this. He needed her to take the lead.
Desire quickly replaced nerves or embarrassment. She knew what she wanted and she would tell him. And show him.
Turning so now it was her lips pressed against his ear, she whispered, “I want you to touch me.” She placed her hand on his again and this time she moved it so his palm was pressed against her. She barely heard his groan through the burst of heat that coursed through her, both from the feel of his hand in such an intimate place along with the audacity of what she’d done.
“God, you’re sexy when you take charge,” he growled.
He moved his hand against her, pressing against her clit and making her cry out at the torturous pleasure. “Don’t stop.”
His lips found hers again and he nibbled at the corner of her lips. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
* * *
He couldn’t stop, not if his life depended on it, but he desperately needed to slow down if he was going to last long enough to sleep with this sexy vixen who was squirming in his arms, eyes half shut with abandon.
Every time she moved, it was torture. He had to take charge otherwise he would come in his pants like a damn teenager. And he wanted this to last, for her as much as for him. Elizabeth clearly needed to discover just how amazing sex could be…how amazing she could be. And God, she was incredible. Her every response was innate, natural. There were no artful pretenses, just animal instinct in every kiss, every touch. She made him wild.
He moved his fingers, the heat coming through her panties a hint at the bliss to come. The whimpering sound his stroking elicited was something from an erotic dream. Did she have any idea how sexy she was?
No. But he would show her.
He removed his hand, ignoring her pleading moan for more. “We have all night,” he whispered. But even in his lust-filled haze, he knew that one night would not be enough to get his fill.
In one move, he slipped an arm beneath her legs and stood, carrying her over to his bed. She gasped with surprise but then took advantage of her new position in his arms to nuzzle his neck, licking and nipping her way over his skin.
He bit back a groan as he deposited her on the bed. She blinked up at him, her eyes still drowsy with desire, the short dress riding up so high, he caught a glimpse of the black satin panties beneath. He paused long en
ough to take in the sight before him. Her curls were spread out on his pillow just like he’d imagined, her lips parted and swollen from his kisses.
This was everything he’d been fantasizing about and more. So much more. Because she was really here. In his bed. And she wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t swept away in the moment like she had been the other night. She’d come here on purpose, with a mission.
She’d chosen him.
He knelt beside her and watched in fascination as her tongue wet her lips, a clear sign she was nervous. But then she reached out, stuck two fingers in the waistband of his jeans and tugged hard enough that he lost his balance and fell forward, catching himself on his arms on either side of her.
His lips found hers and he held himself above her, tortured by the feel of her soft breasts grazing against his chest, her hips beneath his. Her arms slid around him, urging him closer, but he kept his distance. For now. He would make this great for her. That was more important than his own satisfaction. That would come…too quickly, no doubt.
So he kissed her neck, her ears, and let his hands explore like they’d been dying to from the moment she’d arrived. Moving over her waist and stomach, he felt her tremor beneath his touch as he moved up until his hand finally, blissfully, cupped her breast. She arched against him, pressing against his hand and he flicked his thumb over her nipple, which was already taut. She moaned against his lips.
“You like that?”
He did it again, this time pinching her nipple through the thin dress and bra. She cried out and the sound filled him with masculine satisfaction. Dipping his head, his mouth replaced his fingers and he took her nipple into his mouth through the thin fabric of her dress. She arched against him, panting for air.
Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him to her, taking command. He moved back up and their mouths collided in a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss that had her moaning and squirming beneath him.
“I need to see you,” he whispered. Despite the fierce lust that had taken full possession of his senses, he forced himself to wait. Only when she gave a little nod did he reach down to grasp the hem of her dress and pull it up and over her head.
His breath left him in a whoosh of air. Holy hell, she was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. And he’d imagined a sex siren—something out of his sweetest dreams. But this, this goddess before him—she was perfection with her curvy thighs and narrow waist. Her little rounded stomach and her lush, pert breasts. She only wore the silky panties and a wispy lace bra, sheer enough that he could see her dark, taut nipples.
“You are so beautiful.” He barely recognized his voice, it was raw and harsh with desire and something else. An aching need. When he tore his eyes away from her body and back to her face, he saw that she was watching his reaction closely, her face flushed. He said it again. ”So beautiful.”
A little smile lit up her face and she pulled him back down for a sweet, lingering kiss.
When he pulled back for air, his hands itching to return to lush curves that were tempting him, she moved her head so her lips were next to his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
The crass, sexy words drove away any semblance of sanity as pure, hot desire took possession. Her arms circled his back and tugged him to her and he gave up the fight, letting his weight press down, their bodies melding, their limbs tangling as they moved against one another in a desperate attempt to feel and touch and kiss and taste.
His hands found her rounded bottom and pulled her up against him, making him groan at the delicious feel of his hard cock pressed against her hot core.
She moaned against his lips and her hands moved to the front of his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until he took over, ripping the shirt off along with his pants. “You sure?” he managed to ask one more time. Her response was a low, primitive growl before she reached over and pulled him back to her.
Moving over her, he unfastened her bra and slipped off her panties, reveling in the feel of her hot, naked body pressed against his. Holy shit, this was so much better than he’d ever imagined.
He ducked his head once more so he could taste her breasts, sucking on her nipples until she was whimpering and begging for more. Sliding a hand between her thighs, he found her hot and wet and so perfect he groaned with need.
“Now,” she moaned. “I need it now.”
Oh God, so did he. He moved over her and their lips met as he slipped inside her tight, wet heat, losing himself in her perfection.
Her hips lifted to meet him and all thoughts were gone, all reason out the window. All he could do was move inside her, acting on pure primitive need. He forced himself to wait until she cried out, her nails digging into his back, before he let himself follow her over the edge and into oblivion.
Chapter Seven
Mark sat up with a start, his eyes popping open before squeezing shut again to block out the glaring sun. He’d forgotten to close the blinds last night.
Last night. It all came back—every delectable, sensual detail. He slowly opened his eyes as a familiar sensation gripped him. He looked to his left. The bed was empty. Elizabeth had run away…again.
The bitter disappointment that filled his gut surprised him. He’d had an amazing night. A one-night stand with the woman he’d been lusting after for weeks and he didn’t have to face the morning-after consequences. He should be relieved to find himself alone. But it reminded him way too much of that other morning—the morning after that night, when he’d found himself alone and worried as hell about his drunken misfit.
And this morning, the same concern had him scrambling for his phone. This was a first for her. The girl didn’t do flings, she would be feeling vulnerable, used maybe—God, he hoped not. But he needed to be sure she was all right.
Before he could find her number, the sound of his bathroom door opening stopped him. He shot out of bed just as Elizabeth stepped out in a cloud of steam. Mark stopped thinking, stopped breathing, stopped functioning as a grown man. Her hair fell in wet locks, already starting to curl around her shoulders. Her face was fresh-scrubbed and pink from the heat of the shower. And all she wore was his towel, draped around her, barely covering her.
She hadn’t fled. The thought echoed through his skull like a catchy chorus and a dopey grin spread across his face. Her eyes met his and she returned his smile, though hers was far less dopey and way more shy. Tucking the towel tighter around herself, she slowly padded toward him, where—he discovered to his amusement—he was still standing beside his bed. Stark naked. Her blush deepened as her eyes traveled over his body, stopping at his penis, which was standing at full attention in the bright morning light.
“Well, good morning,” she murmured as she drew near.
The seductive huskiness in her voice defied the blush that was spreading from her cheeks to her neck and across her collarbone. The caveman in him wanted to rip away the towel to see just how far that pretty pink blush would go.
But he restrained himself, instead tugging Elizabeth into his arms and toppling them both onto the bed. She let out a little squeal of laughter but didn’t fight him, not even when he rolled over so he was pinning her to the mattress.
Oh yeah, he could get used to having her in his bed in the morning.
“What are you doing?” she giggled.
He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the fresh clean scent of her skin like it was a drug. One hand moved to her side to unwrap the towel. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Her hands came up to his chest, blocking him from further kisses. “We can’t.”
He looked down at his damp, delicious siren. Her eyes were wide with urgency. Oh shit. She’d taken the ‘one night’ rule a little too seriously. Time to sort out the ground rules.
Shifting so he was on his side facing her, he pushed back a lock of wet hair from her face. “Last night was epic.”
Her skin turned a magenta red but the small, devilish smile she wore told him she thought so too. Good, they were on the same page there, at
least.
He let one hand trail down to the towel’s edge. “It was so epic, that I’d say it deserves an encore, don’t you?”
Her eyes widened again and she clutched the towel tighter, he could see the protest forming on her lips so he cut her off. “Look, we both know this is a short-term thing. Don’t worry, I’m not going and changing the rules.”
“You’re not?” she asked. Then, as if just hearing him, she added, “What are the rules?”
Ah. Here we go. This is what they should have discussed last night but he’d been too drunk with desire to think straight. But it was now or never. Elizabeth wasn’t worldly enough to implicitly know how casual affairs worked—which was pretty endearing, to be honest. He couldn’t help but feel honored that he was her first. Not exactly a noble role to play in someone’s life but he considered himself the luckiest guy in the world at that particular moment.
Shifting again, he adjusted to make her comfortable, tugging a pillow beneath her head and turning so they were facing one another. “I know you’re not in a position to be in a relationship.” And Lord knew he would never step foot in that minefield ever again.
She gave a little nod of agreement. It didn’t take a psychologist to see that she was still hurting. She was grieving and mourning the loss of a life she’d no longer have. He knew that all too well.
“I should really get going,” she said, making a move to get out from under his arm.
He tightened his grip. “Just because we agreed this was casual doesn’t mean this literally has to be a one night stand.” He tried to keep his tone light but wasn’t entirely certain he was succeeding.
“I know that,” she said. But again, she tried to edge away from him.
“So then why are you trying to run away?”
She stilled then, her gaze catching his and he was relieved to find her eyes were filled with amusement and not the panic or regret he was afraid he’d see there. Although….her amusement seemed to be at his expense, which wasn’t exactly the post-sex response he’d been looking for either.
The Morning After: Starting from Zero Box Set Page 25