A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  She saw it in his eyes, the realization that without lights, she would remember other men, doing other things.

  Far too grave, Spencer closed his eyes, but only for a moment. “No problem.”

  He took that so well, she expounded on the rest. “And me on top because, really Spencer, hunky as you are, I still have some trust issues, you know? I gotta know I have control.”

  His brows lifted in disbelief. “Being on top lets you think you’re controlling me?”

  She let his arrogance slide to say, “Yeah. I mean, why should I make it too easy on you?”

  He snorted. “Let me assure you, Arizona, you have never been easy, not in any way.”

  “And,” she said, talking over him, “before you answer, know this—if you turn me down again, I’m going to feel really rejected.”

  His big hand cupped the side of her face. “No man in his right mind could ever reject you.”

  Relief turned her bones to noodles. “So is doing it my way a problem?”

  “Lights on, with you on top?”

  “That’s how it has to be.”

  Understanding softened his stern expression. “Doesn’t sound like too much of a hardship.”

  Was he mocking her? Arizona rolled over atop him. “Is this going to be fun, Spencer? Because seriously, you don’t look real excited.” She pressed a firm but fast kiss to his mouth. “I want it to be fun.”

  “Got it. Well-lit, you in the dominant position—and plenty of laughs. Any other demands?”

  Her temper sparked. “You don’t like the stipulations? Fine. Forget it.” She started to roll away.

  “So bossy.” He caught her, holding her still against him while fighting a smile. “I like your stipulations just fine.”

  “Baloney.”

  “I want to see you, Arizona. Hell, I’m dying to see you. So lights on would be my preference anyway. And you over me just gives me a better view.”

  She hadn’t thought of that.

  He focused on her mouth. “Far as the laughs go, well, I’m hoping I don’t inspire hilarity, but I very much want you to enjoy yourself. What do you think?”

  She scowled at him. “You’re sure?”

  “I know trust doesn’t come easy for you.” Slowly, tenderly, he smoothed back her long hair. “You might want to remember that I only want the best for you. In all things.”

  Oh, she could hardly wait. “All-righty, then.” Hesitant on how to proceed, she asked, “Should I get naked now?”

  His hands moved down her spine to the small of her back—then just rested there. “Is that what you want to do?”

  His patience wasn’t helping to put her at ease. Why couldn’t he be a little more…frenzied? Like she was? “I don’t know. It’s what I normally did when—”

  His hand covered her mouth. Face tight, his expression a little pained, he drew another breath. “I want you to forget all that.”

  Fat chance. Did it bother him more than it bothered her? Seemed possible. For a big macho protector like him, it’d be a tough reality to get past.

  She took his wrist and pulled his hand away. “Are you trying to forget?”

  He opened his mouth—then frowned. With regret, he said, “We’re rushing things.”

  “So?” If he’d rush a little more, they could be halfway through it already.

  “You need to get a shower.”

  Was he already pulling back? Well, he could forget it. “Shower with me.”

  He shook his head. “Why did I think you’d be more reasonable sober?”

  “No idea.” She ran her hands over his chest. She loved the feel of his crisp chest hair. “You must not have been paying attention.” She also loved the feel of his strong bones and firm muscles, and just looking at him made her insides quiver.

  She wanted to do this, she really did.

  “Oh, I’ve paid attention all right. Count on it.”

  Having no idea what he meant by that, she leaned down and teased her nose over him. His scent left her more intoxicated than the whiskey had. “I gotta tell you, Spence, you are one sexy dude.”

  His smile came reluctantly. “Thank you.” Then he caught her and eased her back. “But I think maybe I should shower and shave, and—”

  “You’re looking for excuses, aren’t you?” Disgruntled, she scowled at him. “You sure you want me?”

  “Very sure.” He again looked at her mouth. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  That surprised her. So did he mean, like, more than he had wanted Marla? And what about his wife? And that bimbo he’d been cuddled up to in the bar last night? Or did he just mean recently? “So you’re saying—”

  “I want you, Arizona Storm. Never doubt it. I’m dying to kiss you, to get you naked—even though you smell of stale whiskey.”

  “I do?” But of course she did. Unwilling to breathe on him more, she pursed her mouth. Good grief. She hadn’t even thought about that.

  He smiled. “I want you even though you have makeup all around your eyes.” Regret replaced the smile. “And a few colorful bruises.”

  She scowled, then pushed up to sit on the bedding. “The bruises bother you?”

  “Of course they do, because it means you got hurt again.” He came up beside her and stroked her hair over her shoulder. “I’m going to kiss each and every one of them. It won’t really help, but it’ll make me feel better.”

  He sounded all husky and affected, and that affected her. “It’ll make me feel better, too.”

  He pressed small kisses along her jaw, to her ear and then over her shoulder. “You sure about that, honey?”

  She shivered. “What do you mean?”

  He continued kissing her, soft, damp kisses in surprising places that left behind a tiny tingle. “Forget about your past for a minute, okay?”

  Not really possible, but she shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Do you understand what I want to do to you? How different it’s going to be?”

  She thought she’d known, but now… “Um…maybe?”

  “You’re trying to rush through things, but I want to take it slow.” He lifted her hair away, and she felt his tongue on her nape, then the edge of his teeth. “I’m glad you want the room well-lit, because I want to look my fill.”

  “Me, too.” She couldn’t wait to explore his big, strong body.

  His hand touched the inside of her knee, drifted up her inner thigh.

  Sensation chased ahead of his fingertips; anticipation left her breathless.

  But he stopped short.

  With his mouth touching her temple, he whispered, “I want to touch you, and kiss you. All over.”

  Her stomach seemed to tumble. “All over?”

  “Yeah.” His smile came slow and easy. “Everywhere.”

  The way he said that curled her toes.

  “I want to know your taste, and I want to breathe in your scent. Here.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “And here.” He trailed a finger down between her breasts. “And especially here.” His hand opened low over her belly.

  She bit back a groan.

  Then he put some space between them. “And as hard as it’ll be to hold back, I don’t want to be rushed. You won’t want me to be rushed.”

  None of that sounded like what she’d expected based on her experiences. “I don’t see…”

  “It’s early yet. We have hours before we need to leave for Dare’s.”

  Oh, crap. Her birthday gathering. She’d forgotten all about that.

  He brought her chin around to look into her eyes. “It’s not as long as I’d like. I’d rather have the whole day to focus on you, to show you how things should really be. But we’ll
spend what time we have in bed. So if there’s anything you want to do beforehand, I suggest you do it now.”

  She gave it quick thought—and decided she needed a few minutes to get a grip. “Okay, so how about I go shower and you put on coffee, and then we’ll take it from there?” She rolled out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. “Make the coffee strong. I think I need it.”

  “Arizona?”

  She paused at the bathroom door, looked back and saw him staring at her backside. “Yeah?”

  “I can maybe wait while you drink one cup, tops.” His gaze lifted to hers. “After that, I make no promises.”

  * * *

  A SHOWER REVIVED HER physically, but she’d used every single second to go over what Spencer had said and how he’d said it.

  Now…now her hands shook, and a slow burn smoldered inside her. She couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d do, couldn’t keep the visuals from her mind.

  She had a feeling Spencer had done that on purpose just to work her up. Diabolical. And oh-so-hot.

  Rather than wash her hair and take the time to dry it, she put it in a high ponytail. Wearing a T-shirt and shorts, she sat at the kitchen table and tried to enjoy her coffee.

  But Spencer was in the shower now. Naked. And every second that passed torqued her tension a little tighter.

  A sweet ache curled inside her.

  Her lungs constricted so that she had to breathe harder, faster.

  So this was lust? Who knew?

  It was better than she’d ever figured. Sure, she knew stuff happened differently between two willing people. She wasn’t a dummy. What she’d done as a captive, forced by traffickers, was not at all the norm.

  There’d be pleasure. She’d seen plenty of movies, talked to lots of people.

  And she knew how Jackson and Alani behaved with each other. Dare and Molly. Trace and Priss. They sure liked getting up close and personal.

  Very soon that’d be her. With Spencer.

  She closed her eyes as sensation swelled inside her, sweeter, hotter.

  But he wanted her to wait?

  Screw that.

  She plopped the now-empty coffee mug down on the table and started down the hall. Along the way, huffing fast with need, she peeled off her shirt and then paused long enough to push off her shorts. Reaching up, she pulled the cloth-covered rubber band from her hair and it tumbled down her back.

  Still in panties, she knocked at the bathroom door.

  Spencer said, “Yeah?” as he opened the door for her.

  Shock kept him still for a heartbeat, then his gaze dropped fast, moving all over her. He inhaled, and his face tightened.

  A white towel circled his hips, another hung around his neck. Steam wafted upward, caressing his damp skin. He’d just finished shaving.

  They stared at each other.

  Or more precisely, he stared at her boobs, and she stared at that happy trail of dark, fine hair that disappeared into the towel.

  Without looking away from her, he put aside his razor and, taking the towel from around his neck, wiped the remaining shaving cream off his face. He discarded the towel on the floor.

  Licking her lips, Arizona reached out, hooked her fingertips into the other towel, and pulled it away from his body. It hung loose in her hand.

  Holy smokes, he hadn’t been kidding. He really did want her.

  The man was impressive—in all ways. “You’re big.”

  “Yes.”

  He sounded awfully cavalier about it. “So…” She couldn’t get her gaze off his jutting erection. “Looks like you’re ready, too.”

  “I’ve been ready since the day I met you.”

  What a relief, since she’d felt the same. Oh, she’d done her best to ignore it. But not anymore.

  She let the towel slip from her fingers. “That’s…nice.”

  His hands fisted. “You’re not afraid?”

  “Nope.” Anxious, needy, desperate even, but not afraid. She met his gaze. “Not with you.”

  Some sharp emotion brightened his eyes. “At all uncertain?” He brought her face up. “Because, baby, I know you were uncertain earlier.”

  Ah, so that’s why he’d suggested the shower and the coffee and the excruciating delay? For her.

  What a guy. “Yeah, I guess I was. A little.”

  “I don’t want you to be.” Still he didn’t touch her. “Not at all.”

  “I’m not anymore.” A little shakily, she added, “Honest to God, Spencer, I appreciate the concern. I really do. But I don’t think I can wait a single second more.”

  He nodded—and continued to resist. “Has any man ever spent his time just kissing you?”

  “No.” Her heart beat so hard it hurt. “Thank God.”

  He took a step closer. “Has any man ever touched you, just for you? Just to make you feel good?”

  “Of course not. Men don’t—”

  “Shh.” Calm personified, he pressed a warm kiss to her mouth. Slow, lingering.

  As he drew away, Arizona lifted her heavy lashes, took a breath and whispered, “Damn.”

  Wearing a half smile, Spencer closed in for another kiss, a little hungrier, a little less cautious.

  Now, that was more like it. Her breath shuddered in, came out in a sigh. “Oh, hell.”

  He caught on to her game. “Are you asking for another kiss, honey?”

  “That’s the deal, right?” She leaned into him, her mouth almost touching his. “For every curse—”

  “Yes, that’s the deal.”

  “Well, I know a lot of curses.” She played her hand down his chest, over to his side. God, she loved the feel of him. “So what’s it to be, Spence? Should I singe your ears, or do you just want to—”

  His mouth settled over hers without reserve. And she accepted with a hardy groan, clinging hands and the press of her body to his.

  “Spencer…”

  He drew her in closer. “Tell me what you want.”

  “This is all so curious.”

  “This?”

  “Sex.” She turned her head to meet his gaze. “I gotta admit, until you, I hadn’t been a fan of the idea.”

  “I know.” Pain filled his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “Wasn’t your doing, now, was it?” She leaned into him, enjoying his strength, his heat. His appeal. “But with you? I dunno. You make me feel funny.”

  His big, hot hand opened over her belly. “Here?”

  “Yeah.” She pressed her hand over his, absorbing the warmth of his palm while breathing in his delicious male scent.

  “Funny, how? Tell me.”

  “All warm and…slippery.”

  He bit off a groan. “Perfect. That’s exactly how I want you to feel.”

  “And how should you feel?” Teasing, anxious to touch him, she reached for his erection.

  He caught her wrists and held her hands away.

  “Spencer?” He looked pained. He looked…stoic.

  A heartbeat of silence passed. “Let me show you, okay?”

  Something in the way he said that made uncertainty take hold. “Whoa.” She stepped back from him. “Show me what?”

  With shaking hands he smoothed back her hair. “How good it can be for you.”

  “But not for you?”

  “No matter what, I’m going to enjoy this, too. Never doubt it.”

  Shaking on the inside, she tucked in her chin. “This?”

  Firm, he said, “Giving you pleasure. Taking you to orgasm.”

  No freaking way. “What, with you all uninvolved and stuff, and me being some sort of a sacrifice?” He had to be joking. She shoved against his ches
t. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  He caught her to him. “It wouldn’t be like that.”

  “I want you inside me, damn you. I want you with me all the way.”

  Breathing harder, he locked his jaw. “I can hold off, Arizona. I can do what’s right—for both of us. But not if you…”

  “Well, I am!” Humiliation washed over her. She gave him another hard shove and finally freed herself. “I’m not a damn project for you to work on!”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I’m not playing this stupid game of yours. Either you want me, or you don’t.” Thumb to her naked chest, she shouted, “I’m an all-or-nothing woman.”

  More than a little aware of her nudity, she turned to depart on a dramatic exit.

  Before she’d even taken a full step, he pulled her back around and scooped her up against him. His own measure of frustration deepened his voice, sharpened his tone. “Your stipulations mean you aren’t all-or-nothing.”

  “So instead of calling them stipulations, just call them a fetish.” She went on tiptoe, leaning into his anger. “Lots of people like to take control in bed.”

  “It’s not the same thing and you know it.”

  Deflated, hurt, she muttered, “I wanted to feel you inside me. I wanted to be a part of you.” Tears burned her eyes, scalding her with humiliation. “Thanks for nothing.”

  He breathed hard, his nostrils flared, his eyes bright. “I tried, Arizona. God knows I did.”

  She started to tell him to go to hell, but his mouth landed on hers, not tentative, not gentle, but hungry and demanding.

  Suddenly on fire, she groaned her approval and clenched her hands on his shoulders.

  He stroked down her back to her rear, lifted her up and pulled her in snug against his erection. Against her lips, he said, “I need you, Arizona. Right now.”

  Ah, now this was what she’d wanted. She could handle the overwhelming physical stuff better than all that knee-weakening emotion or, God forbid, his nobility. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He lifted her completely off her feet, and she just naturally wrapped her legs around his waist. “Arizona…”

  “I’ve got you now.” She knotted her fingers in his damp hair and said with carnal demand, “Kiss me again.”