by Erika Wilde
She was as sophisticated and beautiful as a woman could be, as well as charming and sweet to the guests they struck up conversations with during the cocktail hour and dinner. Her intelligence made her even more attractive, and her light laughter drew appreciative stares from many of the men in the ballroom. She was an overall perfect date, complementing him like no other woman ever had, and he felt damned lucky to have her on his arm.
He was also in a constant state of lust because of her. One week of spending time with Melodie and keeping his hands off her had made him feel sexually deprived and hornier than he could ever remember being. Arousal hummed just beneath the surface of his skin and his mind had a bad habit of conjuring fantasies of Melodie at the most inopportune times that left him hard and aching.
Now that he knew how good she felt beneath him, surrounding him, he wanted more of the same, and while she seemed completely uninfluenced by her desires, his were on the verge of raging out of control. He feared it wouldn’t take much at all for him to finally give into the excruciating, undeniable need to fuck her again, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
The emcee for the night’s festivities announced that the charity auction would begin in ten minutes, and Melodie turned to him with a seductive smile. “Care to dance before the auction starts?”
Remembering what had transpired on the last dance floor they’d shared, a slow, drugging heat spread through his limbs. “Are you going to behave this time?”
She fluttered her long lashes innocently at him, contradicting the shameless glimmer in her eyes. “Do you really expect me to make such a promise and keep it?”
Her teasing, flirtatious response quickened his pulse, as she’d no doubt intended, and he didn’t fight the sensation. Instead, he let her lead him into the midst of people enjoying the mellow tune the band played. He watched the sashay of her hips as she walked and thought about all that bare skin on her back he’d get to caress once he drew her into his embrace.
An overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over him, and it finally clicked in his brain what was missing that he hadn’t been able to pinpoint earlier.
Pulling her into his arms, he flattened his hand on her lower back and gathered her close, relishing the feel of her soft curves aligned against his body. He looked down at her smiling face and did his best to ignore the soft, parted lips begging for him to kiss. “What happened to the butterfly tattoo you had on your shoulder?”
She entwined her arms around his neck, crushing her unrestrained breasts against his chest. “It was one of those temporary tattoos you can buy in the store.” She tipped her head, causing a wispy tendril of hair to brush along her cheek. “You didn’t really think I’d get a real one, did you?”
Her tone was so incredulous that he winced, then laughed. “Well, yeah, I guess I did. Especially considering how impulsive you’ve been lately.”
“It was fun to wear for a night, but I don’t think I’ll be getting a permanent one any time soon.” Her fingers stroked the hair at the nape of his neck in an intimate caress. “Did you like it?”
He couldn’t lie. “It was very sexy.”
A satisfied, feminine smile tugged at her mouth. “Just for your knowledge, I’m wearing another one tonight.”
He groaned at the thought. “Not where I can see it, obviously.”
A naughty sparkle lit her eyes. “No, not with the dress on,” she confirmed.
His dick tightened and throbbed as he imagined stripping her bare to inspect all the places the tattoo could be hiding on her body…on her breasts, between her thighs, that sexy spot just at the base of her spine…
Clearing his throat, he steered his thoughts to tonight’s business. “Are you ready to slip out of the ballroom when the auction starts?” he asked, his tone low so only she could hear.
She nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He studied her expression as they swayed to the music gradually slowing to an end, searching for signs of worry or unease, but found none visible. “Are you nervous?” he asked, just to make sure he knew her frame of mind before they went any further.
“Not at all,” she said with a realistic bout of confidence. “Actually, I feel energized. Do you ever feel that way when you’re working undercover on a case?”
He grinned, very familiar with the rush of excitement coursing through her at the moment. “All the time.” She was truly an amazing woman, and stronger and more competent than he ever would have given her credit for if she hadn’t asserted herself.
The song came to an end, and as much as Cole enjoyed holding her in his arms, they had a job to do, a client’s request to satisfy and Elena’s reputation to salvage. The attendees gathered around the stage and podium set up for the auction, anxious to bid on jewelry, artwork, and other collectibles, all for a good cause.
Jerry Thornton, a distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, took the microphone and formally welcomed everyone to the affair and went over the rules for bidding on a particular item.
“This is our cue to leave,” Cole murmured, and casually ushered Melodie away from the crowd. In the pretense of searching for the bathroom, they headed down a nearby hall to the west wing of the house, as Elena had instructed. They nodded politely to the few people they passed along the way, until the voices from the ballroom grew dim and they came upon the staircase leading to the first floor of the mansion.
Ducking under the strip of tape blocking off the entrance to keep guests from straying, they quietly descended the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, they made a right turn down a wide corridor lined with an imported rug, counted to the third set of double doors on the left-hand side of the hallway, and slipped inside the room.
The smell of expensive tobacco and genuine leather assailed Cole’s senses, and the moon filtering through the large window against the wall made the hardwood floor beneath their feet glow. Withdrawing his cellphone from the inside pocket of his jacket, he opened the flashlight app and switched it on so they could inspect the furnishings and the setup of the room.
The library was massive, with floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcases, a huge mahogany desk in the middle of the spacious room and a sitting area to the right with a large couch and two wing chairs facing a fireplace. Thornton most definitely had a shit ton of money, and he wasn’t frugal about spending it, either.
“Elena said he kept the monogrammed leather box on the bottom shelf by the fireplace,” Melodie whispered, and headed in that direction.
Cole followed, impressed by her sharp memory and her take-charge attitude. She was here to find a letter for a client, and she was solely focused on the job ahead. When they reached the bookcase, they crouched low and he flashed the beam of light across the lower shelves until they found the leather box Elena had given Thornton.
Melodie carefully pulled the monogrammed case from its cubbyhole and set it on the rug covering the hardwood floor. “That was ridiculously easy,” she said, a thread of disappointment in her tone, as if she’d expected something more cloak-and-dagger.
Cole stifled a chuckle. “It’s not as though Thornton was expecting anyone to come looking for the box, so he had no reason to hide it.”
“Still, he should have been more cautious.” Glancing over her shoulder at him, she held out her palm. “Hand me the flashlight so I can start reading the letters for you.”
He did as she asked, unwilling to violate the terms of Elena’s request by peeking over Melodie’s shoulder, though he was sorely tempted. With her still kneeling on the floor near the fireplace, he sat in one of the wing chairs behind her, watching intently as she withdrew folded pieces of stationery, opened them up, and read the contents of each.
He kept an ear out for any sounds outside the library. All was quiet…except for the gradual deepening of Melodie’s breathing as she scanned the provocative correspondences shared between two lovers. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, and the glow of the flashlight wreathed her head in a soft halo of golden light and ill
uminated her profile and the pulse beating in her throat. Her lips were damp and parted, and she seemed mesmerized by the words, totally enthralled by whatever carnal fantasies Jerry and Elena had written for each other.
Cole shifted in the chair, feeling anxious and a little warm under the collar, and elsewhere. It seemed like hours had passed when it had only been a few minutes, but he had to do something to break the sexually charged silence in the room. “Did you find anything we can use yet?”
She wrenched her gaze away from a letter to look at him, her eyes glittering with lust. “No, not yet,” she said, her voice soft and sensuous in the quiet room. “But I can see why she didn’t want you to read these erotic letters. They’re making me blush.”
And aroused. He could hear the trembling desire in her voice, see the carnal need in her expression, feel her growing anticipation. And like an animal drawn to the scent of his mate, he could smell her arousal in the air, beckoning to him.
His chest heaved and his nostrils flared, and it was all he could do not to pounce on her and take her right there on the floor. Hard and fast and deep. Lord knew he’d been ready and able all week, his body craving hers in a primal, elemental way that was slowly driving him mad.
She bent back to her task, and he glanced around the library, distracting himself by taking a visual inventory of all of Thornton’s prized possessions.
“Here it is, Cole!” Melodie’s voice rose in excitement, then quickly dropped when she realized the need for secrecy. “I found the letter.”
He sat up straighter. “Are you sure it’s the right letter, the one where Thornton tells Elena he’s giving her the ring as a gift?” They only had one shot at this, and he didn’t want to leave with the wrong correspondence.
“I’m positive.” She shone the flashlight on the piece of paper and the bold, masculine writing filling the page. “It says right here at the end of all the risqué stuff, ‘With this ring, I pledge to you my undying devotion. A gift from my heart to yours, an eternal reminder of the love we share. This ring is yours always, as is my heart. Love, Jerry.’”
“That’s it,” he said, and came down to the floor to help her reorganize the letters she’d taken out of the box. “Put that letter in your purse and let’s get everything back where we found it so we can get the hell out of here.”
She tucked the folded piece of stationery into her small velvet purse, then helped him clean up. Mission accomplished, they stood, and took two steps across the sitting area when Cole heard voices drifting from down the corridor, growing louder with each passing second.
“Shit,” he muttered, and did the first thing that came to mind to save him and Melodie from being caught.
Dropping down onto the leather couch facing the fireplace and away from the door, he pulled her on top of him so their feet were off the floor and she was secured tightly against him. He bent his knees to keep his shoes from hanging over the side of the sofa, and scooted his head down, hiding them from anyone who might walk through the door. His heart thundered in his chest, and Melodie stared down at him with wide eyes that reflected startled surprise.
“Don’t move or say a word!” he ordered gruffly and tucked her face against his neck to keep her quiet and still.
Seconds later a dim light switched on in the room and two male voices filled the silent library, their footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood floors as they made their way somewhere on the other side of the couch.
“I’ve got Churchills or Palma Larga,” one man said. Cole recognized the voice as Thornton’s, and they were talking about cigars. “What’s your pleasure, Randall?”
Melodie’s warm mouth fastened on Cole’s neck, and the soft, unexpected stroke of her tongue made him tense and his breath suspend in his lungs. What in the hell was she doing?
“I’ll take one of the Churchills,” the other man replied.
“Good choice,” Thornton said jovially.
Melodie continued tormenting him, stringing damp, quiet kisses up to his ear, then suckling on the lobe and grazing that sensitive bit of flesh with her teeth. Despite the very real threat of being caught, his body surged with a frenzy of wild need. What she was doing to him was shocking, and dangerous, and deliciously exciting. And there was no way to stop her without bringing attention to their presence.
And she had to realize that, as well.
The sound of Thornton opening a humidor could be heard, along with the rustle of him withdrawing the cigar the other man had chosen. “And I’ve got brandy upstairs and a poker game awaiting us once the guests leave in about an hour or so.”
“You do throw the best parties, Thornton,” the other man complimented.
“So I’ve been told.” Thornton laughed. “Let’s go enjoy these out on the upstairs terrace until the auction is over.”
As the men headed back toward the door, Melodie dipped her tongue into the shell of Cole’s ear. He swallowed a deep groan, squeezed his eyes shut, and tightened his fingers in her upswept hair. She was obviously feeling frisky after reading all those erotic letters, and once they were alone she was going to pay, and good, he decided.
The light switched off, throwing the library back into silent darkness, and the door clicked shut behind the men. Cole waited until their voices faded away before he rasped, “What do you think you’re doing, Mel?”
She moved sinuously on top of him, her breath hot and moist against his neck. “I’ll never get enough of you,” she whispered huskily in his ear, the illicit words straight from the fantasy she’d left on his pillow last weekend.
Bracing her hands next to his head, she lifted her face from the crook of his neck and looked down at him, her expression pure seductive sin in the moonlit library. “I need you, Cole.” The raspy plea in her voice was unmistakable, reaching deep into his soul. “Right here, right now.”
Fuck, yes. He understood her need, because he’d been fighting it all week, as well. He didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t question his actions or curse his lack of control as he’d done so many times since this craziness with Melodie had begun. He only knew that he couldn’t refuse her, or himself, what they both wanted so badly. Right here, right now.
He sat up, taking her with him, positioning her so that she was straddling his thighs. He buried his fingers in her hair, sending a silver clip and pins scattering, and crushed his lips to hers. Filled with an explosive urgency, he took her mouth in a hungry, demanding, tongue-tangling kiss, the adrenaline rushing through his blood heightening the illicitness of their private tryst.
She made a soft, mewling sound in the back of her throat as her hands pushed aside his coat jacket and her fingers found the waistband of his slacks. She fumbled in her frantic haste to unbuckle the black leather belt he wore, but she finally managed the deed, freeing his thick erection.
And then he was pulsing in her hands as she stroked him, squeezed him, making his entire body shudder from her practiced touch. He burned for her, desperate to be inside her. Sliding his hands into that tempting slit in her dress, he roughly yanked the velvety material up to her waist. Grabbing the elastic band of her black, lacy panties, he dragged them down her legs, and she stood up so he could completely remove the scrap of fabric.
He shoved the lingerie into his suit pocket for safekeeping, and she quickly pushed him back onto the couch, sliding eagerly back on top of him, spreading her legs on either side of his thighs. The broad tip of his cock slid against her damp, slick flesh, unerringly finding the opening to her body. Unable to wait any longer, he gripped her smooth bottom with both hands and thrust up and into her. She drew him in with a soft gasp of pleasure, flowing over him like liquid fire, hot and molten, consuming him.
A low, guttural groan escaped him at the snug, wet clasp of her body accepting him so completely. Closing her eyes, she tossed her head back and rocked against him, over him, her breath exhaling in soft, sensual pants. Her tempo increased as she rode him, and he pushed the heavy folds of her dress up to her waist and out of
the way so he could watch her draw him deeper, clench him impossibly tighter.
And that’s when he saw her tattoo in the moonlight—a small, impish fairy right above her pussy, the wings seemingly fluttering with every gyration of Melodie’s hips. Fascinated, he brushed his thumb over the design then slipped his fingers lower, between her legs to her clit, caressing her where they joined so intimately.
Her orgasm hit hard and fast, the deep, rippling contractions triggering the beginning of his own climax. He pulled her mouth back to his and kissed her greedily, swallowing the sound of her wild, uninhibited cries as the overwhelming pressure built within him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and he grasped her hips, lunging upward, hard and fast, again and again, penetrating deeper and deeper.
With a force that jerked them both, he poured himself into her, feeling his own scalding release coursing through him in powerful, endless spasms. His mind spun, and his chest tightened with a strange, intense emotion he couldn’t ever remember experiencing before, a longing that shattered his defenses and shook him to the very core.
And then he knew, despite every effort to safeguard himself from this woman’s allure, he’d fallen hard and deep for her. And the realization scared the hell out of him.
But no more than the fact that they’d just engaged in unprotected sex.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Melodie, can I see you in my office, please?” Cole asked, his voice drifting through the intercom on her desk.
Cole’s businesslike tone grated on her nerves and added to the growing frustration that had taken hold since Cole’s immediate withdrawal from her after they’d had sex in Thornton’s library Saturday night. It was a normal response she should have grown used to, but she could have sworn the way he’d held her, kissed her, and touched her had been different somehow. Obviously, she’d been wrong.