“Well, I won’t feel so guilty if it was a group activity.”
“I’m happy to work off the assumption that this is a guilt-free zone tonight,” he said.
She ran a hand over her hair, sure she must be rumpled and mussed, aware that she was gasping for a drink.
“I’m going to grab some water. Do you want one?” She stood so fast that the floor wobbled beneath her feet and she put a hand on the couch for balance.
“You all right there?” Seth asked, looking more than a little amused.
“I lost my balance. That’s all.” Still, she moved cautiously as she walked into the kitchen, and had to admit that she felt decidedly fuzzy.
So much for calling it a night and heading home, then. She’d either have to phone for a cab or crash on the couch for a while. It probably would have been wise to consider that fact before she had those last couple of shots.
She poured a glass of water from the tap and gulped it down, then got another for Seth and took it to the living room, even though he hadn’t said if he wanted one or not.
“Thanks,” he said, his fingers warm on hers as she passed him the glass.
She smoothed her hands over the seat of her pants, suddenly nervous. “Listen, I know it’s late, but I’m not sure I’m okay to drive yet. So I might crash on the couch for a little while, if that’s all right with you.”
“I got some sheets out for you earlier,” he said, and she followed his gaze to where a set of sheets and a pillow sat on the armchair, ready to be deployed.
“Well. You’re a step ahead of me,” she said.
“It’s an expensive taxi trip to the city, and I’m betting you need your car tomorrow for work.”
“I do. We’ve got lots on. A ton of stuff, actually.”
“Then we’re sorted.”
Daisy made a sound and he glanced at her, reaching for the corner of the towel he was using as a makeshift bib to wipe at the formula trickling down her cheek. Vivian stared at his head, unable to stop herself from tracing the line of his neck where it disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt. He had lovely shoulders, square and well-muscled.
Strong.
He glanced up and caught her looking, and she quickly turned away, a warm flush of awareness rushing up her chest and into her face.
“I’ll just make this bed up,” she muttered, busying herself tucking the sheets into the couch cushions.
That didn’t take nearly long enough, and she was forced to watch as Daisy drank the last dregs.
“She’s feeding well,” she said inanely.
“She is, once she gets started.” He lifted Daisy and lay her gently against his shoulder, supporting her while he patted her back gently. After a few seconds Daisy produced a handful of audible burps, causing both Vivian and Seth to smile.
“To think, I’m going to have to reprimand her for doing that in public in a few years’ time,” he said.
“It does seem the height of hypocrisy.”
Daisy had again been reduced to dozy complacence by a full belly, and Seth rose.
“I’ll go get her settled.”
She waved him off. “I’m all sorted here. You head off to bed. And don’t worry if I’m not here in the morning—I’ll probably sneak out as soon as I feel up to driving.”
“You’re welcome to stay if you want to.”
“I know.”
He eyed her for a moment, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “I’m not going to sleepwalk, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried.” Not about him anyway. Herself—her own willpower—she wasn’t so sure about.
“Okay. Good night, then.”
“Good night.”
He hesitated before exiting, and she knew he’d considered kissing her and then abandoned the idea.
Wise man. A dim room, several shots of tequila and the two of them were about as volatile a mixture as she could think of. Retreat was the only sensible option.
She heard him walk to Daisy’s room, then the sound of him talking to her as he changed her diaper. After a few minutes, the tinkling music of a mobile filtered into the room.
She sighed, then unbuttoned her pants. Stepping out of them, she folded them neatly and set them on the coffee table before reaching beneath her top to unclasp her bra. It joined her pants, and she padded across the room to turn off the light before slipping between the sheets.
It wasn’t until she settled against the pillow that she realized she could hear the sound of running water. At first she thought it was simply Seth brushing his teeth, but it went on too long and it hit her that he was having a shower.
In an instant, her head was filled with X-rated images. Seth naked beneath the jets, water glistening on his hard body. Seth rubbing soap over his chest, his belly, his thighs....
She groaned, rolling onto her belly and pushing her face into the pillow as she tried to clear the images from her mind.
She had a big day tomorrow. She and Robin were shooting a huge spread for Fashion Week in a couple of days and she wanted to review everything to ensure there would be no surprises. She needed to—
The water stopped. Good. No more pictures of naked, wet Seth in her head. He’d be drying himself now, running the towel down his muscular legs, brushing it across that perfect, hard ass....
“For Pete’s sake,” she said, her voice rough with desperation.
She flopped onto her back, conscious that her breathing was shallow and that her sex was hot and wet with need.
And Seth wasn’t even in the same room.
“This is crazy.”
It was, because she’d been so sure that this feeling, this connection between them, would fade or weaken with time and familiarity. Instead, it was getting worse because it wasn’t just about sex anymore.
She was intensely aware of the thrum of arousal in her blood and of the insidious little voice in her head that was whispering for her to go to him and give them what they both wanted. What they both needed.
After all, she’d tried to rationalize herself out of her feelings so many times she’d lost count—and yet she’d still wound up here, horny and needy on Seth’s couch, desperate for his touch.
This thing between them wasn’t going away anytime soon. It had survived ten years, the tyranny of distance and multiple partners on both sides. It was as persistent and irresistible as an itch beneath her skin. She couldn’t ignore it, try as she might, even though there were so many reasons for her to do so.
She should call a taxi. She should do it now, while her willpower was still strong and the sensible part of her brain was still in charge.
“For God’s sake, Vivian, who are you kidding?”
She flung back the sheet. One hand extended for balance, she made her way through the darkened living room to the hallway. Seth’s door was ajar at the far end, and she walked toward it, aware of the almost sickening lurch of excitement in her belly. Her heart was pounding so violently she was sure her chest was vibrating.
She reached the door, the paint cool against the fingertips of her extended hand. She eased it open, her gaze going to the bed. Pale light filtered through a gap in the curtains and she could see Seth was lying on his back, the sheet around his waist, his arms behind his head. She knew without asking that he’d been fighting the exact same battle she had and that if she slid her hand beneath the covers he would be as hard for her as she was wet for him. His head turned toward her as she walked toward the bed.
“Vivian.”
She pulled her tank top over her head. Then she pushed her panties down her legs, leaving both items abandoned on the carpet as she climbed into his bed.
At last.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SETH WENT VERY still as the bed dipped and Vivian slipped beneath the sheet.
“Are we sure this is a good idea?” he asked, despite the fact that he was hard and getting harder by the second. There had been a significant quantity of tequila consumed tonight,
and as much as he wanted this to happen, he was all too well aware that Vivian had been adamantly against it until this second.
“Shut up before I realize what a mistake this is.”
Her hand found his chest, then a smooth leg slid over his hips, and the next thing he knew she was straddling him and kissing him, her mouth hot and sweet. Reason flew out the window along with restraint as he wrapped his arms around her, both hands cupping the round curves of her ass as he pulled her closer, his tongue warring with hers, his body arching off the bed as he tried to get closer.
He’d been dreaming about this for ten years. Vivian Walker, naked, in his bed.
She moaned as he flexed his hips, grinding his erection against her, his hands massaging her in time with his thrusts.
“Yes. Please,” she said, one hand sliding down his belly and wrapping around his erection. She stroked him once, twice, and then tilted her hips, rubbing herself against his hardness. It wasn’t until he felt himself notch into place that he realized what she intended and he caught her hips a split second before she took him inside.
“What’s wrong? Oh, right. Condom. Hurry up.”
He smiled in the darkness. Trust Vivian to be bossy in bed, as well.
“Yeah, condom. Also, slow down a little. No one’s on the clock here, baby.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s been ten years, Seth.”
“I know. You have no idea how many fantasies I’ve got to live up to.”
He slid his hands up and around her rib cage as he spoke, glorying in the smooth silk of her skin. Her breasts filled his palms, and she gave a gratifying little shiver as he found her nipples with his thumbs.
“These breasts, for example. I have big plans for these breasts,” he said, pinching her taut nipples between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing until she shivered again. “I’m going to suck on them till you beg me to stop.”
“Never going to happen.” She arched her back, pushing her breasts more firmly into his hands.
He loved the way she owned her desire, the way she unabashedly went after what she wanted.
“Then I’m going to make you come with my mouth, until you’re wet and desperate for me to be inside you.”
“I dare you,” she said, circling her hips, rubbing the slick heart of herself against him.
“And only then am I going to come inside you and make you fly all over again,” he promised her.
“All I’m hearing is a lot of talk, but I’m not seeing a lot of action.”
She gave a squeak of surprise as he twisted, rolling her across the bed so that their positions were reversed and he was on top of her.
In charge.
He stared at her face, framed by her strawberry-blond hair, her pale skin flushed with desire. Her eyes glinted with excitement in the dim light.
“Brace yourself,” he said.
Then he cupped her breasts, plumping them deliciously, and surveyed the bounty laid before him. Creamy flesh, rounded and full, topped by taut peaks.
Oh, yeah.
He lowered his head, pulling one nipple into his mouth. Her body bucked beneath him as he sucked hard, his other hand busy teasing and stroking her left breast. She made an inarticulate noise and he softened his mouth before biting her ever so gently. Her hands found his head, her fingers combing into his hair as she held him in place, guaranteeing her pleasure in the crudest possible way.
The need to be inside her built with every wriggle of her body against his, every moan, every clutch of her hands. But he’d promised and intended to deliver.
He kissed and sucked and licked her breasts until she was quivering with need, then he made his way down her trembling belly to her thighs.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered as he pushed them apart, unable to resist stroking a finger along her slick heat.
“How many times have you thought about me doing this to you?” He breathed in her musky smell.
“Too many.”
He grinned, ridiculously pleased by the confirmation of what he’d always instinctively known. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, sending his tongue deep into her folds. She tasted as good as she smelled and he grew harder still as he imagined how it would feel sliding inside her, feeling the tight grip of all this heat around him.
He settled into a rhythm, sucking and licking where she needed him most while he traced her lips and entrance with his finger. Only when she was panting, her fingers digging into his shoulders, did he slip a finger inside her. Instantly she clenched around him, her hips lifting off the bed as she came with a shudder, his name on her lips.
He waited until the tremors subsided before kissing his way up her body, then reaching into the drawer of the bedside table. He sat back on his heels as he opened the foil packet, and Vivian propped herself up on her elbows, her flushed face avid as she watched him stroke the latex onto his erection. He took his time, stroking it down the shaft, watching the way her eyes followed the movement, loving the greedy way she licked her lips.
He moved over her, not saying a word, holding her gaze as he gripped himself and found her entrance. She lifted her hips to take him, and he slid in.
Yes.
He remembered this. How good she felt. How right. How on earth had he survived ten years without doing this again?
He started to move, needing to thrust, needing to make her his. She wrapped a leg around his hips and rode with him, her eyes slitted, her breath coming in ragged pants. He felt the tension rising inside her, and he slipped his hands beneath her, lifting her into his thrusts, driving deeper and harder.
She came silently, her face turned away, her chest bowing off the bed. The feel of her muscles pulsing around him pushed him over and he was gone, lost in the most necessary, essential climax of his life.
When he came back down to earth, he was lying on top of her, his face pressed into her neck, one hand still possessively gripping her backside.
“Sorry,” he murmured, worried he’d been too heavy for her.
“You should be,” she said as he lifted himself on his arms. “I think you ruined me for all other men.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at her chagrined, slightly dazed expression.
“Then my work here is done,” he said.
He rolled to the side of the bed and went into the en suite to take care of the condom. While he was in there, he heard the thin wail of Daisy crying, and he washed his hands and hurried into the bedroom.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said, stopping to pull on a pair of boxer briefs.
Vivian didn’t say a word. His smile was grim as he entered his daughter’s room. He would trust Vivian to have his back in a million different ways, but he had no idea if she would still be in his bed after he’d settled Daisy. It hadn’t escaped his attention that, until tonight, Vivian had been opposed to sleeping with him. He knew she had her reasons, that the odds were against this being anything other than a mistake...yet he’d do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, he hoped to do it as soon as he possibly could.
They had ten years to make up for, after all. He hadn’t even come close to satisfying his need for her.
Daisy’s crying became more strident as he leaned over the crib to pick her up. A quick check confirmed her diaper needed changing.
He couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward the door as he worked, half expecting to see Vivian making her way to the couch. There was no sign of her, however, and he allowed himself to hope. Maybe she’d still be in his bed when he returned.
He didn’t allow himself to want anything more than that. Not tonight anyway.
* * *
VIVIAN LAY ON her side and breathed in the smell of Seth. She’d never met a man who smelled so good to her. It wasn’t simply his choice of aftershave or shampoo or deodorant. It was the essence of him, and she was surrounded by it.
She told herself that was why she was finding it so hard to make herself get dressed so she could go home. Even in the privacy of her own mind it was an unconv
incing, hollow argument.
She couldn’t make herself leave Seth’s bed because she didn’t want it to be over yet. Because it had been so good, and she was so greedy, and he was so lovely.
So lovely.
Intense, generous, perceptive, wonderfully instinctive. And, God help her, she wanted more.
She could hear Daisy crying, and she imagined Seth pacing with her, soothing her, the same infinitely patient, compassionate look on his face that she’d witnessed every time he’d comforted his child.
She experienced the now-familiar tightness in her chest and acknowledged she was in big trouble.
And still she didn’t leave his bed.
She’d drifted into a doze when she felt the mattress shift beneath his weight. She smiled as his hand slid over her waist, hooking around her body and pulling her close. She opened her eyes and found his head on the pillow, mere inches away.
“She’s off again?” she asked drowsily.
“She is.”
He slid his hand along her hip and down her thigh, the warm glide of his skin on hers sending an electric thrill through her body. He stopped when he reached her knee, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin behind it before cupping her calf and encouraging her to bend her knee and hook her leg over his hips. She let him do as he pleased, confident that she would be happy to follow wherever he led, and that every step of the way would be filled with pleasure.
His gaze was heated and lazy as he scanned her face, his focus finally coming to rest on her mouth. She smiled, knowing he was going to kiss her, appreciating that he was making her wait for it. She loved the anticipation, the tease of it.
He surprised her then, his hand stroking up her leg and brushing over her backside before slipping between her thighs. She swallowed a rush of need as his fingers ever so delicately began to explore her folds, his touch as gentle and insistent as a whisper.
Still he held back from kissing her, and with every second that passed, with every tender, subtle stroke between her thighs, she wanted it more and more. Wanted to taste him, wanted him to invade her, wanted the connection and the uncompromising intimacy of the act of joining her mouth with his. She stirred, aware of the excitement rising within her, of how wet she was, of how much more she wanted, and yet savoring the ride. Trusting him to give her more pleasure than she could handle.
Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) Page 19