Destination Pleasure

by The Wild Rose Press Authors

  A soft chuckle made her open her eyes. “You were too ... tight?” A hint of red tinted his neck and spread toward his face. “And you seemed ... inexperienced."

  Heat flushed her face. She couldn't find words to reply.

  His lips nuzzled hers. “Why? For the money?” The concern in his eyes seemed real.

  Her laugh erupted before she could pull back. “No. My real job pays quite well."

  "Then why?"

  She opened her eyes to questioning twin pools of blue. “I have my reasons. Not very good ones..."

  "Do you want to stop?"

  Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around his hard body. “No. I always finish what I start."

  Ritter leaned forward. His lips brushed hers then a moist tongue teased her mouth open. His hands kneaded her buttocks, sending her a stinging reminder of his recent penetration.

  His body pressed her toward the bed. The edge caught the back of her knees. Only his hold on her kept her from toppling over. He lowered her to the mattress. His tight muscles and softer than expected skin covered her body.

  His hands curled under her shoulders while his mouth sought hers. One arm slid farther up until his fingers caressed the nap of her neck.

  Cat's hand mirrored his. The fine hair on the back of his neck teased her palm. Pulling him tighter, she fell into his kisses. Tongues tangled and explored. The heat of their earlier coupling didn't compare to the passion of his mouth, the intimacy of his body against her.

  Whispered moans escaped as she wrapped her legs around his hips. His hard cock rubbed through the furrow of her vagina, sliding against her sensitive clit. “Yes...” she whispered.

  Ritter pulled one arm free from under her. His hand patted the nearby nightstand until he returned with a fresh condom. He tore the package open with his teeth.

  Cat's fingers snagged the slippery latex from the wrapper. Reaching between their bodies, she caught his thick flesh with one hand. With nimble fingers, she unrolled the thin sheath over his cock.

  His body shivered as she stroked his length. He leaned down. His mouth captured her lips. Gentle teeth tugged at her lower lip. As his tongue teased hers, his hot length taunted her clit with short rubbing strokes.

  Heat and anticipation swept through her body. Her pussy clenched with aching need. Ritter refused to cooperate as she arched her hips in an effort to fill the tense void deep in her core. His thick flesh continued to plow the slick furrow of her nether lips, avoiding dipping into her tender channel.

  "Please...” So close to begging, Cat sighed with relief when his thick flesh finally slid into her aching depths. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

  The erotic play earlier of two men didn't match the heat of Ritter's kiss or the passion of his embrace. The long slow ride of his length into her body sent her to the edge of reason.

  Her legs flexed around his strong body, urging him faster. So close to release, so close ... She needed just a little more, but he refused to give it.

  His pace stayed slow. The strength of her legs was no match for his muscled body. Long, teasing strokes with his pelvis met her swollen clit in gentle glances.

  Urgent tension built in the pit of her stomach, pulsing into her center with each beat of her racing heart. His kisses drown out her moaned pleas for relief. His arms, curled under her back, held her tight. Fingers dug into her shoulders.

  After keeping her on the edge of ecstasy for what seemed an eternity, his pace increased almost imperceptibly. But it was enough.

  Cat gasped as the wave of orgasm hit her. Her body clenched through spasms of pleasure. Her arms and legs tightened around the hard body pumping against her.

  His lips kissed a line down her neck. Burying his face in her shoulder, his teeth grazed her skin. Excited groans accompanied his final jerking motions.

  "So good...” he mumbled between kisses. “You feel so good."

  Cat just nodded as his mouth covered hers. He did feel good.

  Tears stung Cat's eyes. She squeezed them tight as realization hit her. She didn't want erotic adventures. She didn't need sex for the sake of sex. The intimate embrace of one man, one who cared for her and her only, was all she ever needed.

  "I want to see you again."

  She refused to open her eyes. Besides the tears she feared he'd see, she was more afraid she'd agree. But it was impossible. The exploration of her sexuality was over.

  Shaking her head, she pushed at his chest. “Can't...” As soon as his body moved off her, she rolled the opposite direction and ran for the bathroom.

  Closing the door, she sank to the floor with her back against the cool wood and listened to the sound of Ritter gathering his clothes. When the door to the tiny apartment closed, she let the tears flow.

  As much as her body enjoyed the sex, this wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a relationship, someone to talk to, spend time with. She wanted love.

  * * * *

  Cat flipped open her laptop and tried not to think about last night. She'd left Geli's place as soon as she was sure Ritter was gone. In such a hurry to put her night behind her, she waited to shower until she got to her apartment.

  She didn't sleep much. When she did, her dreams were filled with piercing blue eyes and the feel of hard muscles against her skin.

  She glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of her computer screen. Almost nine. She expected her first appointment any minute. The new president of one of the firm's largest clients wanted to know why he shouldn't take his business elsewhere.

  She's never even talked to him on the phone. All his communication had been through his secretary or tersely worded emails. Cat hoped Tristan Ziegler's personality wasn't as arrogant as some of his emails.

  Pulling up the file on T.R. Athletics, she perused through the facts and figures pertaining to their advertising campaigns as well as their sales numbers.

  Her phone buzzed at exactly five minutes until the hour.

  "Well, at least he's prompt.” She stood up and started around her desk when the door opened.

  "Mr. Ziegler...” Her voice trailed off as Ritter walked into the room. The blood rushed from her face. Lightheaded at the idea of anyone finding out what she'd done last night, she gasped. “What are you doing here?"

  A slight flush crept up his tanned face. “I have an appointment with Catherine Lakeland."

  Cat regained her composure long enough to wave to her secretary. “That's all, Adele. Thank you."

  Ritter watched the door close then turned back to Cat. “I'm Tristan Ziegler."

  "Oh, my God.” Cat's knees threatened to fail her. She grabbed the edge of her desk, but strong arms caught her. “I've never done that before. I just wanted..."

  "Cat ... Catherine...” He pulled her around to face him. “I know.” His hand cupped her cheek. “When I asked to see you again, I didn't mean like last night."

  "You didn't...” Hope welled up with his smile.

  "No, I meant dinner. Talking. Get to know each other.” His smile broadened to a grin. “And maybe a little like last night ... but without Gunter."

  Cat nodded. “Definitely without Gunter."

  He pressed her against the desk but not tight enough that she couldn't escape. Not that she thought about running. A soft kiss sent shivers through her body.

  "Ritter ... Tristan ... What do I call you?"

  His laugh was rich and warming. “I don't usually do things like last night either. So I used my middle name.” He backed away from her. “How about we start over?” He held his hand out. “Hello, my name is Tristan Ziegler."

  Cat grinned and took his hand. “I'm Catherine Lackland. It's very nice to meet you."

  Maybe there was hope for more after all.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Naughty in Norway

  by

  Layla Chase

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dagali, Norway

  If she had to watch his rock-hard ass for a sing
le minute longer, she would attack. With hands, lips, teeth and, most definitely, tongue.

  Two days spent watching taut muscles flex and bunch under tight ski pants were more than Dissa Booth could stand. Ten feet ahead, her ski instructor, Rolf Torger, shushed through the powdery snow across the outskirts of Norway's Hardangervidda National Park.

  Although the air temperature hovered at freezing, her body burned from more than the exertion of an afternoon of cross-country skiing. Her breathlessness couldn't be blamed on the elevation. At twenty-eight hundred feet, the oxygen ratio was just fine. Had to be the gorgeous man in front of her.

  She tried focusing on the beautiful scenery—thick, green pines contrasted against icy-white snow, craggy peaks highlighted against a cloudless azure sky. So different than the stone and glass skyscrapers of Dallas.

  Nature was pleasant enough but displayed no comparison to the fine male physique in her sights.

  Rolf glanced over his shoulder and raised his goggles. “How are you doing? Need to rest?” With easy moves, he lifted his skis from the tracks and stepped beside the trail.

  His blue gaze captured her and held fast. Taken individually, his features were ordinary—honey blond hair, ice-blue eyes, proud nose, strong chin. Added together, the effect was arresting—that was the only way to explain his appeal. That and the sexy lilt to his accented English.

  She couldn't deny the thrum of lust flowing through her blood. “Maybe a couple minutes for a few sips of water.” With less grace, she moved off the trail and unclipped her water bottle from her belt. Too many years had passed since her last skiing trip to the Rocky Mountains back in the United States.

  This brief rest was a stellar opportunity. Yesterday, she'd been just one face in the group of four students. Today, she'd booked a private lesson. Better odds, but the nature of the activity didn't offer many chances for conversation. Her mind screamed for something more personal to say. “Have you been teaching long?"

  "Years.” He perched the goggles on the top of his head, forcing tousled hair back from his tanned face. “Since I was a teenager."

  Her thoughts went to what he must have looked like at that age, and she sighed. Where was the serious businesswoman who'd left Dallas less than two weeks ago?

  "Ready?"

  Her heart rate kicked up, and heat infused her skin. Was she ever! She glanced at his raised eyebrow and questioning gaze.

  Oh, her shoulders sagged. He meant the skiing.

  Fine, more personal sightseeing. “Right behind you."

  Rolf leaned his broad shoulders against the handles of his ski poles. “On this last stretch, you are taking the lead. You need to get a feel for gauging the trail yourself."

  "Oh.” Disappointment ran through her, then panic. Now, he'd be staring at her ass. She positioned her poles, leaned forward and shoved her skis back into the track. Why was she worried? He hadn't shown a flicker of sexual interest. “Sure, I can do that."

  As long as she kept her butt clenched all the way back to the Dagali Hotell. With opposite arm and leg, she planted a pole and kicked off on her glide.

  His skis crunched behind her. “Now I can enjoy the view."

  At his statement, her skin tingled, and she fought against glancing over her shoulder to check out his expression.

  Half an hour later, she shushed to a stop in front of the whitewashed, 18th-century chalet. With poles planted, she breathed out a tired sigh. Her mind still raced with the echo of his last, quiet words. After examining them from every angle, she couldn't be sure of his meaning.

  Had he been flirting? The fact she had to ask confirmed she was out of practice with this whole relationship thing. Which only strengthened her resolve to rectify that problem.

  "Will you be taking a lesson tomorrow?"

  His husky voice caressed her ears, a warm puff of air tickling her cheek. A shiver ran through her, tightening her nipples into aching buds. “No, I'm touring the Halland family museum."

  "Interesting.” With the tip of a pole, he unlatched her bindings and then crouched at her feet. His warm hand cupped the back of her calf as he lifted out her boot.

  Surely he was just steadying her. Right? The heat of his touch spread through her leg. A slow spiral hit low in her belly. She swayed and grabbed his shoulder, touching hard muscle through a thermal shirt.

  When had he removed his jacket? Before she could think, her fingers moved in a slow caress.

  Rolf lifted his head, and his gaze met hers, darkening to a cloudy blue. A slow grin slid across his thin lips, and as he stood, his fingers trailed along her leg. “My boss is tough on instructors fraternizing with students. Since I am no longer your instructor, may I buy you a drink tonight?"

  Maybe not ski lessons, but she could definitely think of other skills he might teach. “Sure, say eight o'clock?” Excited by the banked heat in his gaze, she headed toward the hotel, exaggerating the swing of her hips.

  * * * *

  Laughter and the driving beat of a bass drum erupted from the entrance of the resort's dance club. Dissa hesitated and scanned the room, noticing several small tables with lit candles. With surreptitious moves, she adjusted the bodice of her dress, too aware the walk downstairs had inched the plunging neckline dangerously low. The thigh-skimming dress of slinky, purple jersey screamed, “take me.” She'd bought the dress a little over a month ago when she accepted the promotion to her company's overseas division, but tonight was its maiden public unveiling.

  Tonight she expected the sexy scrap of fabric to help her get laid. Not because she was the last of her American friends remaining single. Not because her new co-workers warned her she'd never want to leave Norway. And certainly not because her free-spirited mother was always encouraging her to embrace her sexuality. But because Dissa had finally found a man who piqued her lust.

  "Think the wall will fall without your help?"

  His voice's deep rumbling tones reached inside her head and tickled her eardrums. Goose flesh skittered over her skin, and she rolled her head to her right. “Maybe."

  His gaze ran from her face, over her chest and down to her exposed legs, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “Pen, really nice. But drinks are served over there."

  At the light touch of his hand on her elbow, she maneuvered between the small tables. The further into the room she walked, the deeper inside her body she felt the music's loud bass.

  A steady beat. Primal, driving.

  "Let us order.” He guided her to the bar, his fingers slowly sliding away, and leaned an elbow on the polished wood. “Maybe some glogg."

  Spiced wine with raisins and almonds wasn't her preference tonight. Finger tapping her chin, she shook her head. “Not what I want."

  "And what does the lady want?"

  If he only knew.

  She cut a glance at his sexy smile, and her nipples perked to attention. A cocktail's seductive name from a trendy bar back in Dallas flashed through her mind. “I'll have an Erotic Fantasy."

  A strangled snort erupted then Rolf quickly cleared his throat. His narrowed gaze slid from her to the tall, blond bartender who smirked behind the counter. “You heard of the drink, Ander?"

  "Got it. Your usual ale, Rolf?"

  He started to nod but stopped. “No, the lady is choosing something exotic. Give me a Brave Bull."

  Dissa smiled at the coincidence in their preference. “So you like Kahlua, too?"

  "On special occasions.” He winked, his gaze settling on her mouth.

  The bartender set the glasses on the bar, and Rolf laid down a bill.

  "Thanks.” She brushed her fingers along the back of his hand, thrilling at the jerk then relaxation of his hand. So, he felt the pull, too. “I'll get the next round.” She lifted the stemmed glass and sipped on the straw, closing her eyes to focus on the creamy explosion of flavors. “Mmm, that's good."

  A low chuckle sounded. “Enjoying your fantasy, are you?"

  For a moment, her thoughts drifted to another setting—on
e involving dimmed lights and silky sheets. She sighed then opened her eyes. His words provided the perfect opening. “Not as much as I'd like."

  Rolf lowered his glass, eyebrow quirked. “Should I order you something else?"

  "The drink's fine.” Now or never. Forearm braced on the bar, Dissa turned sideways and stepped close, nudging her knee along his inner thigh and resting a hand on his shoulder. She leaned forward, brushing her mouth over his cheek until her lips nibbled his ear lobe. “I'm wearing too many clothes to enjoy its full benefit."

  A large hand rested on her hip, and a thumb circled on her abdomen. With gentle pressure, he eased her closer, capturing her leg between his muscled thighs. “That is a shame. Not much we can do here."

  The sensation of being trapped by his hard body excited her. She fingered the thick hair falling over his collar. A slight dip of her knees, and her mons rested on top of his leg. She rolled her pelvis and pressed against the ridge lying along his upper thigh. The very impressive ridge.

  As she rode his hard leg, the seam of her thong rubbed against her clit. Tension throbbed in her pussy, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

  His grip tightened, and he rested his forehead against hers. “These moves are drawing notice. Remember, I work here.” He angled his body to shield her and wrapped an arm around her back, drawing her closer. One hand dipped inside the fabric of her dress and slid along the back edge until he grazed the side of her breast. Her bare breast.

  "Pokker, no bra.” He groaned, a sound that rumbled low in his chest. “Not sure I needed to know that.” A single finger slid to the underside of her breast and rubbed.

  Dissa thrilled at his bold manner. Sounded like his heat level might be approaching hers. As far as she was concerned, his actions were foreplay.

  Pure and simple.

  Or, hopefully, sinful and complicated.

  At that thought, she sipped her drink and shivered, the pearling ends of her nipples tenting the front of her dress.

  "That is a powerful drink.” His thigh lifted higher.

  The rough seam of his jeans rubbed her sensitive inner thigh, and she gasped. “Better not be tonight's only thing of power."