Seductive Nights Trilogy

by Lauren Blakely

  “We could try canasta, even. Or if you really want to go wild,” she said, punctuating her words with a quick trip of her finger down his strong arm, “we could do Go Fish.”

  He pretended to fan out several cards in his hands. “Julia, do you happen to have any sevens?” he teased, as if they were playing the kids’ game.

  She mimed handing over a pair. “I’ll miss my lucky sevens,” she said with a pout.

  “We’ll make new luck. Because I know what we’re going to do with all your free nights.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m going to take you to Vegas. Play for fun. We’ll play blackjack.”

  “I’d love to go to Vegas with you.”

  “You can meet my brother. We’ll go to Brent’s comedy club, then I’m going to take you to one of those late-night clubs in the Bellagio, where it’s dark and smoky and the music is low, and you’ll dance with me.”

  “You dance?”

  “Gorgeous, with you and me, dancing would be foreplay. I’d have you grinding against me on the dance floor,” he said, flipping her around so her back aligned with his chest.

  She wiggled her rear against him in demonstration. “Like that?”

  “Yeah, keep practicing that,” he said, low and husky in her ear.

  “We’d play the slots, too,” she added, keeping up their Vegas dreams.

  “We’d lose money and not care,” he said, brushing her hair off her shoulder. Planting a kiss on the back of her neck. Making her shiver.

  “See a show.”

  “Fuck in a limo on the strip,” he said, tracing her hipbone with his strong fingers.

  “Fuck in the elevator,” she said, sliding her leg through his, wanting to be wrapped up in him.

  “Leave work behind. Leave the past behind.”

  “Not look at my phone. Not think about my phone.”

  “No one could reach us,” he whispered. “We’d get drunk on each other.”

  She turned back around, needing to look at him, to see him. She ran a thumb over his lips, watching his eyes float closed as he hitched in his breath. “I’m already drunk on you, Clay.”

  “Stay that way,” he said. “I need you to stay that way.”

  “I will.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  He didn’t want the time with her to end. He didn’t want anything with her to end.

  As he stepped into the elevator after dinner at an Italian restaurant that evening, he was painfully aware of the ticking clock marching towards tomorrow’s game, then Sunday morning when they’d meet Charlie at eleven, then Sunday afternoon when he’d put her on a plane and let her crisscross the country. As they reached his floor, the thought of sending her home again was like a cut inside the mouth, an annoying reminder that couldn’t be ignored. Because he wanted so much more with her. He wanted these moments to unfold every damn day.

  But all he could do was make the most of this moment.

  “I have a gift for you,” he said when they were inside his home.

  A smile teased at her gorgeous lips. “A gift? I love gifts. However did you know?”

  “Of course you love gifts,” he said, with the confidence of knowing her.

  “Why do you say ‘of course?’” She leaned against the doorframe in his kitchen, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

  “Because,” he said, running his fingers across the top of her skirt. “Because you know how to enjoy things. Because you don’t deny yourself. Because you let yourself feel pleasure and want. And that’s the kind of person who likes gifts. The kind of person who knows how to enjoy life.” He lowered his head to her neck, unable to resist brushing his lips against her soft skin. She shivered, and grabbed onto his shirt, tugging him close. “My point exactly,” he added.

  She broke the embrace and made grabby hands. “Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

  Stretching his arm around her, he scooped up the pink box that he’d left on the counter that morning. He handed her the gift, and tried his best to record every frame of her reaction. The way her eyes lit up as she ran a palm across the box, then as she untied the satiny white bow, letting it fall onto the counter. She lifted the top and peered inside.

  “Ooh,” she said appreciatively, then took the black thigh-high stockings from the box, and laid the box on the counter. “Your favorite thing.”

  He nodded.

  “You want me to put these on now?”

  “No. Save them. I need you to wear them tomorrow night.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

  “It’s my poker handicap.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t want to win tomorrow. If you’re wearing those, I won’t, because it’s all I’ll think about,” he said, brushing his fingertips from her knees up her thighs.

  Her lips parted as he neared the apex of her legs, but she pressed a hand against his chest, holding him back. “I want to win fair and square. I told you that. You promised.”

  “I know you do. But you don’t need to prove to me you can beat me, Julia. I’m on your team,” he said, grabbing her hand and linking his fingers through hers. “And I need you to wear those tomorrow night for me. Say you will.”

  He watched her. Her shoulders rose and fell, and she didn’t speak for a moment, as if she were considering it. “Why do you have to be so damn convincing?”

  “It’s my job to make a good argument.”

  “You’re too good at what you do. But I’d wear them for you anyway. And since it’s evidently Christmas early at your house, I suppose it’s as good a time as any to let you know I have something for you.”

  “I love Christmas,” he said as she took his hand and guided him upstairs. When she reached her suitcase, she unzipped it and dipped a hand into the inside pocket.

  “This is a surprise, so close your eyes.”

  He did as she said. “I love surprises too. Did you know that?”

  “No. But that suits you as much as you said my loving gifts suits me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because of the time you surprised me at my apartment. And then at McKenna’s wedding,” she said, as her heels clicked across the floor, and he felt her near him.

  “Hold out your hands,” she told him, her sexy, sultry voice turning him on.

  He opened his palms. “Put this on me,” she said, and he felt soft fabric fall into his hands.

  When he opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, he breath caught. A silk scarf was in his palms, and she was stripping off her clothes. “Blindfold me,” she said.

  He flashed back to their night in San Francisco last month. She’d told him it was the only thing she didn’t want to do. “The thought of it makes me feel a bit too vulnerable, and for a woman with trust issues, well, I’m not sure it’s the best kind of kink for me.”

  “But you said,” he began, but his words were swallowed dry as he watched her clothes fall in a heap on the floor, and she wore only her lace panties and heels.

  “I know what I said.” She ran her hand down his chest, her touch sending tremors through his body. “But things changed, and I want to do this for you. This isn’t the same as you helping me out of my troubles, but even so, I want to give you what you want. Let me do this for you.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t do this to say thank you.”

  “I’m not doing it to say thank you,” she said firmly. “I’m doing it because I want to give you everything you want.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said, his voice hoarse, as he fought back the desire burning inside of him for this.

  “I would never do something with you that I felt I had to. Everything I do with you I want to. I have so much want for you I don’t know what to do with it all, but to give you more of it. So sit down,” she said, and began to press her hand against him. She stopped. “Wait.” Her lips curved into a wicked grin. “I don’t think your fantasy is me telling you to sit down. You tell me what to d
o.”

  Oh, fuck. He was done for. His body was dangerously close to overheating, and she hadn’t even touched herself. But this wasn’t his fantasy for nothing. He knew how he wanted her—al fresco. “I want you on my balcony.”

  “As you wish,” she said, her eyes catching his, a spark in them as she glanced back at him and headed down the steps, giving him a perfect view of her gorgeous ass as she walked. His cock twitched hard against his jeans as he pictured all the things he wanted to do to her ass. When she reached the sliding glass door and tugged it open, she cast her gaze to the outdoors, then crooked a finger, beckoning him.

  “On the lounge chair,” he told her, and she crawled across the cushions. He kept his eyes on her the entire time, savoring every move of her body as cars and cabs raced by five flights below. If he peered over the brick railing he could watch the Manhattan night roll along, the people walking down the cobblestoned street in the Village. But he wasn’t looking anywhere except at her. She shifted to her back, her red hair fanning out over a pillow, her long, luxurious body stretched across the wooden lounge chair. A warm breeze floated through the dark night, blowing wisps of hair across her cheek.

  He straddled her, running the end of the silk blindfold over her belly, her breasts, then her throat, so the fabric teased her skin. Gently, he pressed the material over her eyes. She lifted her head so he could tie it behind her. As he tightened the knot, she wriggled her hips against his pelvis, and he felt the heat from her against the fabric of his jeans. “You want this,” he rasped out. “I can feel it. I can feel how fucking hot you are.”

  “I do want this,” she whispered.

  He lowered his head to her neck, buzzing a trail up to her ear. “I know you can’t see anything now, but you can feel everything. That’s why I want this. I want to watch you feel every single thing,” he said huskily, licking the shell of her ear.

  She looped her hands around his neck. “It’s very dark where I am, and I need to know you’re here the whole time. You can’t look away from me.”

  “I promise I will have my eyes on you the entire time,” he said, as he inched down her body. “You’ll feel me.”

  “How?”

  “Trust me, Julia,” he said, as he settled in at the end of the lounge chair, giving him a perfect view of her body, a straight shot of her long, luscious legs. “I’m going to sit and watch you, and I’ll tell you when I’m ready, and until then keep your hands at your sides.”

  She nodded, and he drank in the sight of her, from her beautiful breasts, so round and gorgeous, to her rosy nipples, hard and practically demanding to be sucked on, to her soft, flat belly. Then the thong panties between her legs, beckoning to him. His fingers ached to touch her there; his mouth craved her taste. She arched her hips ever so slightly as he stared at her legs, and it was as if she knew, without being able to see him, that he was looking at her with such longing and heat.

  “You can feel me looking at you, can’t you?”

  She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip, and murmured, “Yes. I can feel your eyes on me.”

  “Good. Spread your legs,” he said, and heat flared across his skin as she parted her legs, opening them wide for him.

  He bit back a moan as he caught sight of the small scrap of fabric and the wetness on the cotton panel. This woman was so responsive, so aroused by him that it was almost a crime not to bury his face between her legs right now, send her hips shooting up into his mouth, and fuck her with his tongue.

  “This is also how you’ll feel me,” he said, circling her ankles with each hand, then gripping them, and holding them down, her feet bound by him.

  “Oh,” she said, arching her hips and rocking into the cushion before she’d even touched herself.

  “Now tell me how much you want to be touching yourself right now.”

  “I’m so turned on,” she said, and her voice was hot and whispery.

  “Are you aching to be touched right now, Julia?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, her mouth falling open as she licked her lips. “Can I?”

  “Do it,” he said. “Leave your panties on and slide those fingers between your legs.”

  She dropped her hand into the waistband, then lower, then lower still, and she drew a sharp breath when she made contact. God, it was a beautiful sight, her lips falling open as her fingers reached her pussy. He wanted those fingers to be his, he wanted his mouth on her, his cock inside her, but he wanted this torture more. He craved watching her, knowing how she looked when she was all alone. He wanted to witness how her body reacted to her own touch.

  “Tell me how it feels,” he said, as he gripped her ankles, her legs unbearably sexy in those heels.

  “So good,” she moaned. “So wet. My fingers are sliding all over, and I’m imagining it’s your tongue.”

  Sharp agony rang in his body, and every instinct told him to tear off her panties and fuck her hard. But that wasn’t the point. He needed the torment of seeing her naked body writhing in pleasure. He was hungry for the waiting, for the tension that gripped him as he forced himself to hold out until she’d already come from her own hand.

  “And how does my tongue feel right now, Julia?” he asked as he stared greedily at her hand, moving quickly beneath the lace. “How does my tongue feel on your sweet little clit as I suck it between my lips and make you writhe into my mouth?”

  She arched her hips into her hand, and moaned loudly, digging her heels firmly into the cushion. “Your tongue is so fucking good on me. I’m picturing riding your face right now,” she said in a smoky voice that betrayed all her lust, all her want, and made him ache deep in his bones to touch her.

  “Take off your panties. I need to see all of your pussy if you’re getting this worked up so quickly,” he told her.

  She grabbed at the waistband, and pulled them down quickly to her knees. He tugged them off the rest of the way, taking them in one hand. “I need to smell you while you do this,” he said, and brought her panties to his nose, inhaling her. The scent of her was a direct line to his cock, painfully hard beneath the denim of his jeans, begging to be freed.

  “How do I smell?” she asked as she dipped her hand back down between her legs.

  “So. Fucking. Aroused.”

  “I am,” she said in broken breaths as she stroked faster.

  “Let your legs fall wide open, Julia,” he told her. “I want to see everything you do to yourself.”

  She spread her legs further, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so open on his balcony. A black scrap of silk over her eyes, heels on her feet, and her body that he desired every single damn hour of the day, here for him. He could take her now; he could yank down his jeans and thrust inside of her, sliding into the warm, wet home of her pussy. But he wasn’t going to. Not yet.

  “Are you touching yourself, Clay?” she asked as her fingers flew across herself.

  “Do you want me to be? You can’t see me.”

  “I know. But I can picture it. I want to know that your cock is fucking your fist right now,” she said as she rocked her hips into her hand.

  “You dirty girl with a dirty mouth,” he said, with utter appreciation for the way she talked.

  “I am, and you love it,” she said, and the moment shifted from her submissiveness to her taking over somehow. He hadn’t expected this, but then, she had a way of surprising him. “You love every filthy word from my mouth. You love watching me fuck myself, don’t you?”

  “God, I fucking love it so much,” he said, hitching in a breath, and pleasure ripped through his bloodstream at the sights and sounds. “I can’t think of anything that can get me off more than the woman I want fucking herself in front of me,” he said, as he unbuttoned his jeans, slid down the zipper and let them fall to the ground. “I’ve been dying to know what you look like when you’re getting yourself off to me. Now I’m going to find out,” he said, rubbing his cock through his briefs. He wanted to close his eyes and give in to the pleasure, but there was no way he was mi
ssing this moment as her fingers raced across her swollen lips. “Show me. Show me now,” he said, as he pushed down his boxer briefs and took his cock into his hand.

  And there it was. A loud cry of pleasure. An exquisite moan as her back bowed and her hips shot up into her hand, her fingers flying fast and furiously. “This,” she said, breathing hard, and erratic. “This is me picturing you licking me, eating me, fucking me, taking me. Any way you want. That’s what I’m imagining now, Clay. Oh God, I want you so badly to fuck me now.” She gasped, and her words were drowned out by her cries of pleasure as she rocked into her own hand, coming hard and beautifully for him.

  In seconds, he was over her, untying the blindfold, watching her eyelids flutter open. Her pretty green eyes were hazy with lust. Never had he seen more heat in her gaze than in that moment. She’d loved every second as much as he had. He locked eyes with her as he reached for her hand, bringing it to his mouth and sucking on her index finger first, then her middle finger, licking her from her fingertips down to her knuckles so he could taste every drop of her.

  “Perfect. You’re so fucking perfect,” he said, as he savored the taste of her desire in his mouth.

  “Do you like?” she asked, all breathy, awash in the afterglow of her orgasm.

  He shook his head, moving closer to her. “I love,” he whispered, pressing the word softly against her lips. He kissed her eyelids, his way of telling her thank you for trusting him. Then he kissed her cheek, her neck, and her ear. “You’re beautiful all the time, and so beautiful when you come with me.”

  “So was it everything you hoped it would be? Your fantasy?”

  “Gorgeous, you are my fantasy come true,” he said as he grasped her hand and wrapped it around his erection. Immediately, she stroked him, her soft fingers providing some kind of relief. He drew a deep breath, fueled by the electricity that shot through him from her touch. “I want to see those lips wrapped around me.”

  She let go, grabbed his hips, and pulled him down to her, lifting her mouth to him. The moment she made contact, he grabbed the top of the lounge chair. He had to hold back because all he wanted now was to fuck her mouth hard, and come in her throat. His bones were humming, his blood was rushing thick and hot, and he wanted the same release she’d had.