Virtually Perfect

by Samantha Hunter

  She knew it was her long history of not knowing how to open up that was to blame, but she didn’t know what to do about it. The thought made her even more miserable. All this time she’d hoped it was the fault of lousy lovers, but she couldn’t say that was true of Jack. It was just her.

  She practically jumped out of her skin when he shifted over and sat beside her, placing her head on his shoulder. She stiffened and resisted, but then gave in to the comfort of it. Why not?

  His voice was gentle, but with some lightness.

  “I wish you had told me that. You know, there are things we can do. That was a bit…rushed. I thought you were with me. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It was good. Really. I told you, I don’t usually even get that excited. It’s just me. Really, I’d rather drop it.” Her voice took on an edge, but he didn’t want to drop the subject, not yet.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Raine. A lot of women can’t have orgasms that way, but they can have them other ways—have you ever tried?”

  She shrugged noncommittally, and wondered why he just would not let the subject drop; the other men she had been with hadn’t cared overmuch, but Jack seemed determined to pursue the issue. She tried to sit up, to get some distance, but his arm tightened around her, so she gave up the struggle and buried her face in his shoulder instead, to avoid that penetrating gaze. She sighed against his skin, her tongue darting out unconsciously to catch the salty taste of his skin on her lips.

  “I haven’t had any adventurous love affairs, sex has been fairly routine, I suppose. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “What has the ordinary been? Maybe we should try something a little extraordinary?” Surprisingly, he felt a warm hum in his loins again, thinking of it. This woman seemed to inspire him.

  “Um, no…I’m fine. Really. I think maybe we should just call it a night.”

  “Well, it’s up to you, I suppose. You know what you want, right?”

  He turned a little, his face in her hair, and ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, and felt her quiver. Sliding a hand up to her breast, Jack kneaded gently, then ran his tongue from the curve of her ear down to her jaw, hungering for her again. He captured her mouth before she could say anything, and kissed her deeply, seductively.

  Raine felt herself float away on the kiss. While it still had the edge of passion—she could tell he wanted her again—he took his time, plundering deeper, not ending the kiss until they were both gasping for breath. He settled her back on the pillows, shifted over her, kissing her everywhere, his breath feathering her sensitive skin.

  “But Raine…maybe you want me to do this? Just a little?” He caught her nipple in his teeth and flicked his tongue over it lightly. She whimpered and managed to speak.

  “Maybe…a little.”

  She couldn’t take much more. He’d had her in such a state of arousal the crash had been almost too much to take. But even if final completion was not a possibility, the way he made her feel along the way was too good to stop. She couldn’t say no to how he was touching her. She gave herself over to him, he could do anything he wanted.

  He ran his tongue over her stomach in the most erotic patterns, her supersensitive skin responding achingly to his light touch. Then he burned paths up and down her thighs as he stroked them.

  “God, you’re gorgeous. You are so much more than I ever imagined…. Remember when I wrote about doing this to you online? How I wanted to taste you?”

  He moved up over her and looked. She was like an angel of desire, her skin flushed with passion, arms thrown to the side, hair tangled and splayed over the pillow. When he moved his hand up between her thighs to insert a finger, then two, into her heat, he was gratified to find she was still wet; she moaned and ground against him, and he sighed in awe. She was so responsive.

  He kissed her breasts again, and feathered his lips down her stomach. Nudging her knees apart, he lay between them. He didn’t rush, but lifted her leg, trailing his tongue along her instep, to her ankle, and then kissed her knees, tracing his tongue up the inside of her leg to the sensitive crease where hip met thigh, and kissed her there, biting lightly, feeling her strain and stretch underneath him.

  “Is this the usual, Raine? The ordinary?”

  She heard him, his voice hot and teasing, and she struggled for clarity against the onslaught of passion, and faintly shook her head from side to side. “Um, no…nothing usual about this.”

  “Good. Tell me if anything gets…boring. Tell me anything you want, just like you did online. I’m Rider, Raine—you can tell me anything.” He grinned and bit her neatly on the thigh, and she cried out the “okay” that started as a whisper and ended in a moan.

  Parting the flesh that concealed her clit, he rubbed his thumb over it and then took her in his mouth, sucking hard, then softly, lapping his tongue over her, then stroking long, hot sweeps from that sensitive nub to her vagina with his tongue, gratified by her increased sounds of arousal, the tightening of her thighs on his shoulders. Backing off for a moment, he looked up at her, and felt desire rip through his own body, but he quelled it. This time was for her.

  “Raine, touch yourself, sweetheart.”

  Her forehead creased. “Hmm?”

  “Touch your breasts, Raine…do whatever feels right…it’s okay…anything is okay.”

  Raine was unsure about this request, but as he closed his mouth over her again and his tongue was making those long, hot trips back and forth along her most sensitive areas, she lifted her own hands to her breasts, and ran her palms lightly over her nipples, so hard and stiff they were almost sore, and arched her back reflexively.

  The world hazed when he grabbed her cheeks in both hands, squeezed and opened her wider, penetrating her with his tongue, then running it up to suck on her clit again. The pressure built unbearably, and she couldn’t think. Pulling sharply at her nipples, she was panting, willing her body to go where it needed to—she was so close. He was sucking her now, continuously, in a rhythm, without stopping, probing his fingers into her, seeking out her sweet spot. He growled his encouragement as he felt her body suddenly wrench in pleasure.

  Raine was caught off guard by the sharp release of pressure, the pulsing heat that exploded and spread out through her limbs. A cry escaped her lips and she bucked against him, seeking more, experiencing every last second of it.

  Jack smiled when he felt her muscles gently clasping his fingers. He nuzzled her encouragingly, his groan vibrating against her skin, until he felt her relax.

  He maneuvered himself up next to her, watching her face. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint sheen on her skin that seemed to make her glow. He touched her face, and she opened her eyes, looking at him in wonder and shyness. He smiled, and kissed her.

  “Heya.”

  “Jack. God…that…was…definitely not…the ordinary.” She touched his face. “Thank you.”

  He chuckled. “Be careful, you’ll inflate my ego…but I’m glad. I enjoyed that every bit as much as you did.”

  She frowned, reaching over to him. “You did?”

  He laughed again, scooching down next to her, yanking up the blanket. “Oh, yeah. I, uh…when you came, it felt pretty good to me, too—but you’ll have to change these sheets later, I’m afraid.”

  Raine smiled, exhausted in the best possible way, his admission making her feel womanly and wonderful.

  “Stay.”

  “I don’t have much choice, I think. We took your car.”

  But she was already asleep, and soon so was he.

  RAINE WOKE FIRST, entangled in more ways than one.

  Legs and arms were wound around each other, and the very handsome face of Jack Harris was facing her, close enough that she could feel his morning stubble on her cheek. He was beautiful—warm and lost in sleep. She stared at him, remembering. She found herself wanting to touch him, badly, but curled her hands into fists. As her mind cleared, she groaned, rubbing her face and wondering how she could have
been so foolish.

  Looking at him now, it was hard to imagine that the rude jerk in her office, a man she didn’t even like, had just spent the night in her bed. Even worse, she had practically begged him for sex, and he had been the only man who had been able to…well…she remembered with a sigh, closed her eyes, and shook her head in a mix of regret and disbelief. She opened her eyes and looked at him again. He was Rider. Her Rider. But he was also Jack. Jack, who obviously couldn’t stand her.

  Panic caught her breath. Could this really be a huge coincidence? How could she trust him? He was an Internet expert—he could have set the whole thing up, right? What if he told the guys at the office? She would be a laughingstock. It was all too much to process. She needed to get out, to get away, but she didn’t want to wake him. She couldn’t handle that yet. She couldn’t face him and see him gloat.

  Quietly, little by little, she slid from the bed, hoping like anything that he didn’t wake up until she could get dressed. She needed to be alone. She had made a very bad decision last night, and she was going to have to think about how to handle the consequences.

  JACK WOKE TO HEAR the shower running, and was momentarily disoriented. Picking up the scent of perfume and sex from the sheets, he smiled, stretching like a big cat. Raine. Last night had been a shock, but not a disappointment. Well, to be completely honest, it had been a disappointment at first, but now it ranked as one of the best nights of his life.

  He pushed up on the pillows, rubbed his face, and glanced at the clock. It was almost nine, but it was Sunday, so he was not in a rush to go anywhere. He wondered what Raine would want to do with the day. His smile was wicked as he considered what he would like to do with it, with her.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed, found his jeans and yanked them on. Nothing was as he thought it would be.

  The house was small, a classic New England cottage. Raine had nice taste, he thought as he ran his hand over the solid wooden frame of the mission-style bed frame, the earthy tones of the unfinished wood blending beautifully with the rose-tinted walls, but the place was not exactly what he would have expected of the very wealthy. She had nice but not extravagant things. The rooms were comfortable, but hardly grand. Not at all what he would have imagined.

  Flowers were peeking at him from wall vases she had in stalled in every room. Snow blew against the white three-over-three frames, making the place feel like a cocoon. Her bedroom dresser looked old, an antique no doubt, and the bedding was soft, good-quality cotton. He smiled, running a finger along the edge of a daisy on the pattern. It was all female, all soft and inviting. Like Raine.

  So she was Nilla. His Nilla. Never in a million years would he have thought Raine Covington was even capable of the kind of charm that he found so attractive in Nilla, let alone the passion she had shared with him last night. It looked as if he was wrong.

  Nothing he would have imagined about Raine Covington seemed right. She had been standoffish in high school, and she was sure as hell was not all that likable at work. How could he have been so wrong about her? Thinking of her in his arms, and how he had been able to help her experience passion she didn’t even think she was capable of achieving, made his toes curl. He glanced toward the bathroom where the shower had just turned off, and thought about joining her.

  RAINE STOOD in the shower, stalling, still not knowing how to handle the situation. How could she face Jack? She had clearly messed up. It just didn’t pay to be impulsive; it never worked out for her. They had to work in the same office, and she would be lucky if he was just willing to forget about last night and keep his mouth shut.

  She rubbed a towel almost violently over her hair and had a brutal moment of honesty as she looked at her scrubbed face in the mirror. What really bothered her, down deep, was that he didn’t even like her—he wasn’t even really with her last night—while they had been making love, he had thought of her as Nilla, called her Nilla, not Raine. He was just living out a fantasy.

  She had been able to live one out as well, she admitted. It was fantastic with him. When he had seduced her that second, wonderful time, when he had shown her what real, satisfying sex could be like with a man, it had moved her deeply. But now, in the cold morning light, the experience felt hollow and wrong. She had opened herself to him completely, and he had only seen her as a fantasy, not as Raine Covington, but as some figment of his imagination come to life.

  She put a hand to her face, sinking against the edge of the vanity as she realized how she had let him take her over, she had been so eager for what he could give her. He was likely motivated by a mix of male ego and pity, and while neither was a particularly great option, she would prefer the first to the second, thanks very much!

  Her hands worked themselves furiously through her hair, and she stopped, sighing in defeat, feeling tears sting behind her eyelids. It was just her lousy luck that the lover of her dreams was not the man of her dreams, nor she the woman of his. She spoke determinedly to her image, convincing herself of what she had to do.

  “Remember, he wasn’t making love to you. An idea of you, a version of you—yes—but not you. Keep that straight, and try to have a little dignity, in spite of the fact that you just made a tremendous fool of yourself. Try to keep it together, get him out the door quickly, and get through this. See it through.”

  Setting her shoulders back, she slipped on a mask of calm that hid the hurt. It was something she was practiced at—a skill she had honed to perfection in the lonely, painful years of her youth.

  She pulled on a robe and walked out into the bedroom. The little bit of cool she had maintained nearly slipped away completely as she saw him standing by her bedroom window holding a cup of coffee and looking magnificent dressed only in his jeans. She licked her lips and blinked hard, reining herself in.

  “Um. Good morning.” She sounded like a frog.

  He turned and smiled. “It is. I made coffee. Hope you don’t mind.”

  She took another step awkwardly into the room. “No, no, that’s good, fine. Thank you.”

  He set the coffee down on the table, and crossed the room, the sleepy, sexy smell of his body slamming into her and blowing away her rehearsed calm as his arms came around her and he pushed his face into her neck, inhaling, and making her head spin.

  “I missed you there when I woke up. When I heard the water running, I was going to come join you, but then you finished. Too bad…”

  There was a warm suggestion in his voice that made Raine’s knees weak, and she fought for control, keeping her body rigid, and put her hands lightly on his shoulders. Piling one mistake on top of another wasn’t going to help, as much as her body was screaming for his. Using every ounce of strength she had, she applied gentle pressure, pushing him away.

  Frowning, Jack loosened his arms, stepping back slightly, and looked into her face. She held herself stiffly near him, and didn’t want to meet his eyes.

  He thought, perhaps, that she was embarrassed. He had already figured that much of what he had assumed about her seemed not to be true, at least in what he’d experienced with her last night, and from what he could gather from her home. She probably wasn’t used to taking a man home and, well, doing what they’d done.

  He didn’t know her, but he was willing to give it a try. Tilting her head up with his fingers, he made her face him and found her eyes dull and remote, the mouth that had been so hot under his was stretched tight. She wrenched her face away again and stepped back.

  “Jack, this was obviously a mistake—we are just acting on ideas we got about each other on the Net. We don’t even know each other.”

  His eyes narrowed, and he became cautious, hating the way the atmosphere in the small room had changed, had chilled. Confusion, hurt and anger rolled over him. He stepped forward and pressed her up against the wall with his body, holding her shoulders tightly, his gaze fierce, demanding something from her.

  “I thought we had something starting here, Raine. What’s going on?”


  She shifted against him uncomfortably, a flush moving up her throat. She wasn’t immune to him, that was for sure. She brought her chin up in that way that always set his teeth on edge, that imperious, arrogant tilt that drove him crazy, and she shook her head.

  “Nothing is going on here, Jack. Nothing went on. This was just two strangers acting out a fantasy. It was a bad idea, especially since we have to work together. I would appreciate it if you would be, um, discreet.”

  Discreet? What the hell? She was lax under his hands, not resisting, not responding at all. She just looked him dead in the eye and told him to be discreet. It was somehow much more painful than if she had just told him to get the hell out.

  “Well, what do you think, Raine? That I’m going to go post it on the Internet? Go tell all the guys at the office I had a hell of a night with Raine Covington and they should give you a call?”

  She slapped him then, and though he knew he had it coming, it didn’t matter. Her eyes were fiery and hurt, but he suspected it was a hurt that was reflected in his own.

  “I don’t know, Jack. I suppose that is possible. That’s the problem. I don’t know. I don’t know you well enough to trust you, and that’s why last night was a mistake.”

  All of the warmth he had felt toward her slid away on a greasy slick of anger and regret. He looked hard into her eyes, finding it difficult to believe what she’d just said. But it was real, and he had to leave before he said something he would really regret. He didn’t look at her as he found the rest of his clothes, his tone reflecting the iciness he felt.

  “Well, then, just let me get dressed now that you have made up your mind about me, and I’ll be out of your way.”