He wasn’t aware of anything but Marielle. He tucked that fact away to examine later, because he knew that she was the first person to bring on that focus he normally reserved for racing.
“Mr. Velasquez,” his driver said, clearing his throat.
He pulled his head from Marielle’s and glanced at the driver, noticing he had opened the door. He took her hand and pulled her quickly across the sidewalk through the snow toward the waiting Moretti Motors Vallerio sedan. She slid easily into the back seat, laughing as she sat down and slipped on the leather seats.
He climbed in after her, lifting her off the seat and onto his lap.
She felt chilly from the snow and sleet, and he cuddled her close to him while she ran her fingers through his hair. “You have snowflakes on your eyelashes.”
“Do I?”
“You do,” she said. “Close your eyes.”
He did as she asked and felt the warmth of her breath against his face before she kissed both of his eyes lightly and then settled back onto his lap. “There you go.”
He opened his eyes. Their gazes met, and he felt his pulse start racing again. He didn’t want to have a quickie in the car. He wanted to make love to her properly. To take his time with Marielle, because maybe if he got her out of his system he could move on. No more rude potshots at her and no more lust that he couldn’t control.
He was used to control, and he hated that she made him feel like he had crashed his car and was rolling over and over, like nothing in the world was solid and he was holding on trying to find his center.
With Marielle he was simply holding on to her. And he felt his grip on her was tenuous at best. He should be scared, but instead he was turned on and excited. He couldn’t keep his hands off her and she didn’t seem to mind, moving to straddle him on the back seat of the car. He held her to him as she deepened the kiss and he clutched at her backside, bring her closer to him as he shifted his hips underneath until he could rub the ridge of his hard-on against her center.
She rocked her hips, moving over him with the kind of pressure that made his pants too tight and made him want to just say screw it and take her here and now.
He moved his hand under the hem of her dress and felt the cold skin of her upper thigh. He rubbed his hand up and down, each time coming closer to touching her center. It was hot and moist and beckoned him. He remembered how hot they had been for each other the last time. If it was even possible, it seemed he wanted her even more now.
He felt the pulse in his erection where it was trapped too tightly in his boxer briefs, and when he pulled his mouth from hers, turning his head hopefully to see something that would distract him, he just met her gaze.
That cool gray gaze of hers was hot, like the heat in the cockpit of his car when he was driving. And the excitement he felt as he approached the finish line, this felt like a victory. He had never thought he’d have her in his arms again. But here she was.
He wanted to make this last. Needed to find his much-lauded self-control.
“What are you thinking?”
“Don’t come in the car,” he said without thinking.
She threw her head back and laughed. “Damn, speedy. I was thinking, I hope he comes in the car.”
“Marielle, darling, you are pushing me to the very edge of my control,” he admitted, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Which was a big old mistake, because she smelled so good. How could perfume be sexy? On her it was.
“Well, then, I’ll have to see what I can do to push you past it. I want to see you when you aren’t thinking and analyzing everything,” she said.
“I’m not sure that’s a smart idea,” he said.
“I thought we’d decided this wasn’t our most intelligent decision,” she said, shifting on him to run her finger down the side of his jaw to his mouth. She drew her finger over his lips, and he felt it as if she were caressing his groin.
He groaned and shook his head, sucking her finger into his mouth. He needed to take charge but every time he did, he saw the finish line and he wanted... Marielle and this entire night to last as long as it could.
The car pulled to a stop, and he glanced out the window. They were at his place.
“We forgot to give the driver your address,” he said.
“That’s okay. We had a nice ride.”
The door opened, and a rush of cold air came in, doing nothing to cool him down as he got out and reached back to offer his hand to her. He nodded to the driver, and as Marielle stepped out, Inigo scooped her up in his arms, carrying her toward his building. She wrapped her arms around him, and he lowered his head to kiss her as he stepped into the lobby.
* * *
Inigo had never been much of a playboy when it came to women. He liked women and had been on his fair share of dates, but driving was the focus of his life, and no woman had ever held a candle to the rush he got when he was behind the wheel.
His brother had commented that maybe he hadn’t met the right woman, and for the first time Inigo understood where Mo had been coming from. Marielle was different; everything with her was more pronounced. When he kissed her, he felt a jolt that was beyond just sexual and maybe...maybe that’s why he’d been trying to justify being with her.
Trying to make it into some sort of revenge scheme so he wouldn’t have to admit that she did something to him that no other woman ever had.
Keke and Marco had been circumspect, but Dante hadn’t been as nice. He had warned Inigo that it was one thing to get his rocks off with a hot chick but another to have his bosses discussing it. He knew Dante’s career was tied to Inigo’s winning as well.
Everyone on the team had a vested interest in him winning. So he couldn’t let sleeping with her be a distraction.
She wrapped one leg around his thigh as she put her hands in his hair and deepened the kiss. He groaned. He could give himself all the mental warnings he wanted to, but there was no way he was walking away from her tonight.
He couldn’t.
He wasn’t even tempted to, if he were being completely honest with himself. He carried her down the hall to his apartment and then lifted his head from the kiss, shifting her in his arms and setting her on her feet next to the door.
He used his thumbprint to unlock the door and opened it, stepping aside and gesturing for her to precede him into his place.
She stepped into the foyer of his apartment, and he reached around her to flick on the lights. He closed the door behind them and watched her as she kicked off her heels and slowly walked down the marble-tiled floor toward the living room.
She stood at the base of the curving staircase, her hand on the mahogany railing, her head tossed back. “I like your place, speedy. Is your bedroom up here?”
His throat felt tight as he closed the distance between them, remembering the feel of her body pressed against his in the club. He wanted her. Maybe more than he wanted to win at Melbourne, which should have jarred him, but for tonight he ignored it. Tomorrow he had to get this attraction for her under control but for tonight...nothing mattered except this feeling and this moment.
She crooked her finger at him, and he groaned as he slowly moved up the stairs toward the landing.
Her thick blond hair fell around her shoulders, and the thin slip dress she wore clung to her curves as she reached behind her and drew the zipper down. He stood beneath her on the stairs watching as she lowered it and her skin was revealed. She had a small tattoo on her left shoulder that he hadn’t noticed the first time they’d been together.
He took the steps two at a time to catch up with her. Wrapping his hand around her waist, he pulled her back against him and used his teeth to pull the thin spaghetti strap down her arm. He could see the design of her tattoo more clearly now. It was a serpent wrapped around an apple that had a big bite taken out of it.
He traced
it with his finger. “What does this mean to you?”
She shook her head, her long blond hair brushing against the backs of his fingers. “Sinner. Mostly I got it to annoy my mom, but I also knew that I couldn’t keep pretending to be something I wasn’t.”
Sinner. The word echoed in his mind and shook him. Was she as blasé about the affair with Jose as she’d seemed? Or had it cut her deeper?
He stopped thinking about that. He drew his hand down her shoulder blade; her skin was soft and smooth. He felt her shiver under his caress, and she shifted around to face him. As she did so, the dress fell farther down, revealing the curve of her nipped-in waist.
He lifted her off her feet again and carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He hit the light switch with his elbow as he entered and put her on her feet in front of the king-size bed. She smiled up at him.
“What’s got your engine roaring?”
He groaned. “Really?”
“I like a good pun,” she said with a wink.
“That’s not a—”
She let her dress drop to the floor, so she was now standing in front of him wearing just a tiny pair of bikini panties and that smile of hers that would tempt any man to follow her.
He couldn’t think. He reached for her breasts. He was rock-hard and on fire for her. Each breath he took smelled of her perfume, and his heartbeat seemed to be saying her name. Marielle. Marielle. Marielle.
He put one hand on her waist to draw her to him, but she wedged her hand between them, her fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them. He watched her for a minute then realized he had a nearly naked woman in his arms.
She touched him in a way that made him feel like the only man in the world. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she leaned forward, kissing his neck as she drew her nails down the center of his body. Blood rushed through his veins, pooling in his groin and making him even harder as she caressed her way down his body.
Her fingers were cool against his skin as she pushed the shirt off his torso. He shrugged out of it and drew her into his arms, enjoying the feel of her naked breasts against him.
A growl was torn from him when her hot mouth brushed over the column of his throat. She took her time nibbling her way down his neck to his chest, biting his left pec, which made him jump in surprise. She looked up at him, her gray eyes sparkling. “Too much?”
“Not enough,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he reached down to undo the fastening of his pants and give his erection more room. Her tongue brushed his nipple, and gooseflesh spread over his chest and back. His hips jerked forward, and she reached out, pushing her hand into the opening of his pants, rubbing her palm over him.
He ran his hands over the length of her naked back. He wanted to believe that his excitement was just because it had been so long since he’d been with a woman, but he knew that this was more about Marielle. She was forbidden fruit. His boss had mentioned her by name, his sister hated her and his best friend thought she was trouble.
But he couldn’t resist. He’d always been the sensible Velasquez, but had that all been an illusion? Was it simply because he’d been going too fast to realize that he was just as impulsive as his brothers?
Marielle wasn’t shy when it came to touching him, and he loved it. Bracing herself with her hands on his shoulders, she slowly traced each of his ribs before moving lower.
Part of him wanted to let her do whatever she wanted, but another part of him was aware that this was only the second time in a year that he’d had sex, and he was on edge. His control wasn’t as great as it once had been. She rubbed her fingertip along his belt, tracing it around his waist and then coming back to the lowered zipper. He sucked in his breath and held it until she winked at him.
She took the shaft of his erection in her hand, stroking him through his underwear. He felt his erection jump and a bit of moisture form on the tip. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. He tugged her into his arms, holding her so that her bare breasts brushed against his chest.
Leaning back on the bed, he used his hands to part her thighs and drew her down on his lap. He pushed his underwear down to free his length and then shifted his hips until he felt her warmth against his tip.
He knew he should get a condom on, but for this moment he wanted to savor the feeling of her heat against his naked shaft. He stretched to reach the nightstand and took out a condom, handing it to her.
Then he lifted her up with his arm around her waist and tugged her panties off her body. She settled back on his thighs, tearing open the condom and putting it on him.
She straddled him and he put his hands on her waist, drawing her down. He tried to let her set the pace, but she was in the mood to tease him and he was already on the knife’s edge. He cupped her buttocks and drew her down hard as he thrust up inside her. Driving himself all the way into her body, he held himself there.
She gripped his shoulders with her hands, her nails digging into his skin as their mouths met. Her nipples were hard points and he pulled away from her mouth, glancing down to see them pushing against his chest.
He caressed her back and spine, scraping his nails down the length of it. He followed the line of her back down to the indentation above her backside.
She closed her eyes and held her breath as he fondled her, running his finger over her nipple. It was velvety compared to the satin smoothness of her breast. He brushed his finger back and forth until she bit her lower lip and shifted on his lap.
She moaned a sweet sound that he leaned up to capture in her mouth. She tipped her head to the side, immediately allowing him access to her mouth. She stayed like that, straddling him so that just the tip of his erection was inside her.
He scraped his fingernail over her nipple, and she shivered in his arms. He pushed her back a little bit so he could see her. Her breasts were bare, nipples distended and begging for his mouth. He lowered his head and suckled.
He held her still with a hand on the small of her back. He buried his other hand in her hair and arched her over his arm. Both of her breasts were thrust up at him.
He wouldn’t let this be about anything other than the physical. One night for revenge, he’d thought, but this was the second time they’d been together. And revenge wasn’t on his mind.
She rocked her hips, trying to take him deeper, and he knew the time for teasing was at an end.
He gave her another inch, thrusting up into her sweet, tight body. Her eyes were closed, her hips moving subtly against him, and when he blew on her nipple, he saw gooseflesh spread down her body.
He loved the way she reacted to his mouth on her. He sucked on the skin at the base of her neck as he thrust all the way home, sheathing his entire length in her body. He knew he was leaving a mark with his mouth, and that pleased him. He wanted her to remember this moment and what they had done when she was alone later.
He kept kissing and rubbing, pinching her nipples until her hands clenched in his hair and she rocked her hips harder against his length. He lifted his hips, thrusting up against her.
Her eyes widened with each inch he gave her. She clutched at his hips as he started thrusting. She held him to her, eyes half-closed and her head tipped back.
He leaned down and caught one of her nipples in his teeth, scraping very gently. She started to tighten around him. Her hips moved faster, demanding more, but he kept the pace slow, steady. Building the pleasure between them.
He suckled her nipple and rotated his hips to catch her pleasure point with each thrust. He felt her hands clenching in his hair as she threw her head back.
He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension at the base of his spine. Something that would make his time in her body, wrapped in her silky limbs, last forever.
He tensed, blood roaring in his ears, as he felt everything in his world center on this one woman.
He called her name as he came. She tightened around him and he looked down into her eyes as he kept thrusting. He saw her eyes widen and felt the minute contractions of her body around his as she was consumed by her orgasm.
He rotated his hips until her hips stopped rocking against him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the underside of his chin.
He wanted to believe that nothing had changed, but he knew that everything had. Revenge had seemed like the only solution until now. He was starting to care for Marielle, seeing beyond the woman who’d hurt his sister to the woman who was vulnerable and sexy—and everything he hadn’t realized he’d been looking for.
Nine
Not sure if she’d stayed or left, he was almost reluctant to get out of bed. But he had never been the sort of man who hid from anything, so he did. He used the bathroom and then heard piano music downstairs. The living room of his apartment had a baby grand piano because Bianca had said it would photograph well when Urban Living magazine did a spread on him. He pulled on his Moretti Motors sweatpants and a T-shirt and went downstairs more quickly than he normally did, skipping his set of morning reps.
There she was, standing over the piano, her fingers nimbly picking out the melody of a classical piece that he struggled to identify. He was pretty sure it was Debussy, but his musical leanings were more toward rap.
“Morning,” he said.
She turned and smiled at him, backlit by the lights in the hallway that led to the kitchen. Her long silvery-blond hair was loose and hung over her shoulders. She wore one of his shirts, her long legs bare. His gut clenched. He’d meant for last night to be the last time they were together. Both of them were on the same page as far as that was concerned. But this morning there was none of the awkwardness that had dominated their other morning after.
The music stopped, and she glanced over at him. Her eyes were sleepy, but she flashed him a smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
One Night to Risk It All Page 8