Текст книги "Crave"

Автор книги: B.J. Harvey

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

The architect in me can’t help but study her building when I arrive to pick her up. It’s as modern as you can get, almost hipster in its approach. It has irregular angled rooflines, uneven hallway lengths and an elevator that would fit best inside of a space shuttle rather than carrying residents within an inner-city apartment building.

As much as I’d tried, nothing could have prepared me for how breathtakingly beautiful she would look the moment she’d opened her door, gracing me with a gorgeous—although somewhat devious—smile telling me she knew exactly how good she looked and how unapologetic she was about it. Being that I’ve been actually looking forward to the date, and Lucia having explained exactly how our date would be going down in her mind, my thoughts on her appearance are pointedly obvious. My eyes graze down her body, starting at her eyes and trailing down her form, taking in all the sights to be seen, even pausing at particular points of interest—and there are many. From the top of her head to the tip of her toes, she looks like perfection.

If I weren’t a man hell-bent on society’s norms and public perception, I would wrap my arm around her waist and guide her back into her apartment, slamming the door shut with my foot. Then I would crush my body against hers, push her toward the nearest wall, and plunder her mouth as I went.

Charity event or not, there would be a lot of giving done, and none of it would be for the benefit of the children’s hospital.

My expression must give away my thoughts, because Lucia’s soft laugh snaps me out of my haze, bringing me back to earth. “You look stunning,” I say. Shocking myself with my honesty, my cheeks heat uncharacteristically, and I watch in fascination as her eyes go soft and she smiles at me.

“You look rather dashing yourself, Mr. Alexander.” Something about the way she says my name pulls me in, embedding her a little more under my skin and leaving me eager to find out more about this fascinating woman.

Reaching my hand out, I hold my breath as I wait for that first touch of her skin against mine. Everything about this moment is new to me, from the anticipation that has been distracting me all week, to the vulnerability I feel in this moment right now, wondering whether to follow the instincts I have about this woman and let her in.

“Should we go?” I ask just as she places her hand in mine and squeezes her fingers, sending a jolt of awareness coursing through my body.

We walk from her second-floor apartment to the elevator, then out to the waiting town car idling at the curb. The driver is waiting at the door to greet us and although I don’t have the chance to open the door for Lucia, I don’t miss the opportunity to lay my hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the back seat before nodding at the driver and following behind her.

Once the driver pulls out into traffic, the privacy screen separating him from the cab of the car rises, highlighting the obvious lack in conversation between Lucia and myself.

“So—”

“I—”

We both look at each other and she bites her lip, struggling to hold in a laugh, the sound of the giggle escaping her lips setting me off. Hearing her trying—and failing—to retain her decorum is surprisingly freeing, and I find myself joining her.

“Should we try that again?” Her emerald eyes sparkle, and I’m mesmerized by the sight.

“It might be a good idea.” My hand itches to reach over and grab hers once more, missing the warmth I find whenever I touch her. My thoughts start to travel down a path entirely inappropriate. Like how her touch would feel in a more full-body capacity, sans clothes. Preferably in a somewhat different locale than the one we presently found ourselves in.

“What was that thought?” she asks curiously.

I lift my eyes from her hand resting on the black leather seat between us to her face to see a sly smile has appeared on her lips. “What thought?”

“The one that just had dirty written all over it.” Her smile grows wide, her eyes glittering with heat and a touch of amusement at the position she’s cornered me into.

“It’s a thought that would be more suited to the end of the date, if we are following your predetermined description of a how a first date should be, that is.”

Heat overtakes amusement as the air inside the car crackles with the right type of tension, the exact type of mood I have been hoping for and dreading. Our eyes remained locked, like neither one of us is able or willing to look away from the other.

Knowing I’d need to acquiesce, I look back down to where her hand rests beside her leg and bite the bullet, reaching over and lacing my fingers with hers.

“See?” she says as I catch her smile out of the corner of my eye. “Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“It’s like that, is it?” I say, my voice filled with humor. She leans over, turning her body toward mine and rests her mouth against my jaw, just below my ear.

“If you want something from me, Callum, you just need to ask for it or take it. I highly doubt any of the thoughts running through that very handsome, highly intelligent head of yours could put me off.” Her breath warms my skin, sending the nerve endings into overdrive. “You’re welcome to try though . . .”

Before I can attempt to put my public mask in place, I tilt my head until we are cheek to cheek. Presented with an opportunity, I follow my instincts and graze my teeth slowly against her ear lobe. “I was thinking how your hand would feel touching me again . . .”

Her breath stutters momentarily, before quickening. She pulls back, leaning her shoulder into the seat but not returning to her side. “I’m sure we can arrange to hold hands again, Callum. It’s all part of getting to know each other.”

I mimic her pose, our bodies still close but not touching, as I let out an uncharacteristic chuckle. “You’re trouble with a capital T.”

“And I’m thinking, Mr. Alexander, there’s something about my brand of trouble that you’re drawn to.”

“Indeed.”

“I like that,” she murmurs, before spinning toward me.

“What?”

“Your honesty. I like your openness with me. When I met you at that function you seemed uncomfortable, closed off. Totally different to how you are now.”

I smile at her. “You make it hard to be anything but honest.”

“I’m glad.” Her smirk returns and I shake my head, her playful mood contagious. “So should we do the ‘getting to know you’ thing?” she asks, catching me off guard.

“We could do, but considering you knew my name when you met me, how about you tell me what you don’t know about me?”

“How about you go first? Let’s call it an icebreaker, shall we?”

In the conversation that follows, I find out that she is twenty-nine, Gino is her only sibling, and she’s born and bred in San Francisco but her parents now live in Florida. They own the restaurant with their parents as silent partners. I also discover she loves old movies—Casablanca being her favorite—and she is a big 49ers fan.

Throughout the question and answer session that lasts the entire car ride, she’s animated, vivacious, entertaining, and evidentially comfortable in her own skin. The more she talks, the more at ease I become.

She also doesn’t hesitate in launching into a barrage of questions about my life—my family, my firm, the Spera Building, and asking about the maritime museum project. In fact, the only time we stop talking is when the driver lowers the glass and announces that we have arrived at our destination.

As soon as we step out of the car, the press asks me who I’m wearing and who my date is. I answer the first question and give a canned, non-confirmatory response to the second.

Then we make our way to our rented corporate suite, which has a perfect view over the ballpark, and a banquet fit for a king laid out for us.

Our conversation continues to flow throughout the game. There are no awkward lulls where it feels forced. It’s effortless, easy. So damn easy that I almost pinch myself to make sure I’m stuck in the recent dream of mine that ended with Lucia’s naked body writhing beneath me as I wrapped my . . .

I refuse to allow myself to go there. Not with her. She’s too much like a breath of fresh air to a suffocating man to imagine tainting her with my depravity.

“Where did you just go?” she asks from beside me.

It’s the bottom of the seventh, and we’re both standing out on the balcony, avoiding the interior of the suite where giggling and growls can be heard coming from the direction of Grant and his date, Jessica, who unsurprisingly is a Zumba teacher with long platinum blond hair and legs that go on for days. In fact, if those noises are anything to go by, Jessica could be teaching Grant some new exercise moves that have multiple uses right now.

“Pardon?” I turn toward her and look down to see her head tilted as she watches me, her five foot six inch stature paling in comparison to my six foot, two. Reaching forward, she gently places her hand on my forearm, making me twitch. She quickly goes to move it, but I find myself reaching out and keeping it there, not wanting to be devoid of her touch when it was given so genuinely. She is so fucking tempting that every sip she takes from her wine glass has me thinking impure thoughts; ones that I know would not be worth voicing, even if a part of me feels she wouldn’t be as abhorred by me as I am myself.

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to enjoying these kind of events, let alone enjoying the company I bring with me.”

With a quirk of her brow, she lets a surprised look pass over her face before schooling her features, one set to put even the most uptight and intense architect at ease. “I’m flattered, Callum. I’m getting the impression you might actually be enjoying this first date of ours.”

“I’d hope so,” I reply dryly. “Since it’s the first ‘first’ date I’ve been on in a long time, and to a public event, no less.”

“Oh, come now, you were on the back cover of the Tribune last month with a gorgeous brunette woman on your arm, and then the time before that there was a stunning blond woman who looked like she would have moves just as impressive as Jessica in there,” she replies, with a tilt of her head toward the inside of the suite where thankfully, the noises have quieted slightly.

I lift my near empty tumbler of Chivas Regal to my mouth as she’s speaking and nearly choke when she mentions my past two dates. My lips curl up into a slow smile as I place my glass back on the wooden balcony bannister. “Anyone would think you were a little jealous, Ms. Harding.”

“No, it’s not th—”

I place my fingertip against her lips, halting her attempt at a rebuttal.

“Just in case you were jealous, which of course you aren’t . . .” My eyes dance with amusement as I watch hers flare, our faces inching closer as my finger slowly pulls downward, dragging her lower lip along with it until I lose contact with her skin.

I watch with avid fascination as her lip returns to its place of origin and her tongue darts out, running the width of her mouth, leaving a wet sheen in its wake. It takes every ounce of control I have not to bend down and take my first taste of her. I know kissing her will be as enticing and addictive as the woman herself.

“The brunette is my older sister, Heather. The blonde, who I won’t be able to look in the eye again without thinking of flexible Jessica in there, is my sister-in-law, Julia. But thank you for the lovely imagery I’ll now have whenever I attend a family function. Oh, and for the record”—I reach up and tuck a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear, leaning closer and dropping my voice to a husky whisper—“you’re adorable when jealous, even when it is totally unwarranted.”

Her cheeks blush slightly as she continues to look at me, her refusal to waiver even more of a turn-on than I would’ve thought. All I want to do is slam my mouth down on hers and take that taste I so desperately want.

Seeing the same heat reflected back at me, there’s no doubt that she’s feeling the chemistry between us just as much as I am. It’s more than just admiration for the work I’ve done, for the fame and publicity I can garner. More than what I can do for her and what she can do to me to express her gratitude.

More than I could’ve expected.

More than I could’ve hoped for.

It’s just simply more.

As if she can read my thoughts, she lifts up on her toes, bringing her body closer to mine.

“Since we’re at the ball game, I have just one question for you.” Her voice is laced with heat as I feel her breath fan across my lips with every word spoken. “You talk a good game, Mr. Alexander, but is your playbook just as impressive?” she whispers.

My half-mast cock jumps to a rock hard salute, and I know she feels it because she leans her hips in flush against mine and lifts higher to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the corner of my mouth. I growl in response and snake an arm around her waist, wrapping the fingers of my other hand around her ponytail. I gently pull her head back and slam my mouth down hard against hers. She gasps in shock and parts her lips. I take and plunder, diving my tongue deep inside her mouth, exploring and devouring, and fuck if she doesn’t taste just as good as I knew she would.

I slow down, my hand loosening in her hair as I gently end the kiss. Running my lips over her jaw, I work my way down to her neck. “There are moves in my repertoire that you could only dream of,” I murmur hoarsely, raking my teeth against her soft skin. “I’ll have you begging me to stop and crying out for more in the same breath.”

Spanning my hands across her back, I pull her impossibly close, brazenly letting her feel the obvious effect she has on me. It’s a level of vulnerability, an intimacy that I try not to show and the fact that I’m willing to let my guard down, albeit briefly with her, speaks volumes that I’m not quite sober enough to say.

My heart pounds matching the staccato beat of hers against my skin, our eyes remaining locked as she waits for me to make the next move. “Talk is cheap . . .” she whispers breathlessly, warmth from her mouth caressing my lips as they quirk up into a genuine smile.

Tilting my face toward hers, I gently trail my nose along her jaw, relishing in the rapid pants that escape her now swollen lips. Lifting my mouth to her ear, I whisper in a voice that betrays the last semblance of control I’m trying to portray. “Some things are better said in private . . .” I place a soft kiss against the supple skin of her neck.

I slowly step back, looking out toward the ballpark. I try to cool down and calm my body, willing the game to go faster.

I leave my arm wrapped around Lucia though, finding myself unable and unwilling to let her go.

As we arrive at Lucia’s door, the sexual tension between us is palpable.

It’s laced in every breath we take. Every look shared between us simply serves to amp it up further, like a wire stretched to its physical limit, the torque set to such an extreme that a single step toward each other would likely cause a cataclysmic collision of the likes that I for one have never had the pleasure of experiencing.

Arriving at her door, she places her keys in the lock but does not turn them. Instead, she spins around and presses her shoulders flush against the wood, her body bowed suggestively toward mine, willing me to take that last step. The whole night was culminating in this moment. The decision that I knew neither of us would come back from. There was no doubt that the effect of our physical coupling would have a far-reaching rippling effect for the rest of our lives.

I yearn for this woman. As I stand before her, her lines and curves transfix me. She’s like a work of art. I caress her with my gaze, imprinting her with my heated glare as I make my way up her body.

I imagine running my hands from her ankles around the back of her calves and over the soft skin behind her knee. My fingers bite into the supple skin of her thighs as I ease them apart.

“Callum,” she rasps. Her smooth velvet voice snaps me out of my imagined seduction as I lift my lust-filled eyes to meet hers. “If you don’t take that step, I’m going to have to come and get you.”

I growl out the last tether of my struggling restraint and stride toward her, slamming my body into hers as our mouths crash together. Her responding moan serves to drive my desire higher and I tangle my fingers in her hair, holding her against me. Snaking my hand around to cup her ass, I grind my groin against her as our tongues continue to wage the war we’ve been fighting ever since that first kiss hours earlier. My whole body is on fire as I devour her using my hands, my lips, my tongue to convey everything she’s making me feel. Any uncertainty I have is pushed aside when a satisfying whimper resonates in her throat.

I pull back slightly, resting my forehead against hers, sharing precious oxygen between us as we struggle to catch our breaths. “Now that’s a game changer,” she whispers against my lips.

Without saying another word, I reach up behind her and turn the key, opening her door slowly as I ease her inside. Once we’re in, I pull the keys from the lock and drop them on the floor before easing the strap of her purse off her shoulder. I turn and flick the light switch by the door, illuminating a large, open-spaced living area, taking in the surprisingly large kitchen to the side of the room and the many windows lining the outside wall.

With her hands on my hips, she starts to walk backwards, her lips still impossibly close to mine. “Do you want the grand tour?”

“The only thing I want to see is you naked and willing.”

“Mmm,” she hums, as she trails the tip of her wet tongue along my bottom lip. “Seems Mr. Alexander the gentleman has left the building.”

“We’re behind closed doors,” I murmur, too clouded with lust to even bother putting the mask back in its rightful place. Then again, it has been absent since the moment Lucia opened the door. “If you want me to be someone I’m not, I can do that. But with you, I want to be myself. I want to not think and just go with it.”

Her expression changes, as if she’s having a moment of clarity. Her eyes turn soft with understanding. “Whatever happens here, Callum, stays between us. Nobody else. It’s you and me. No expectations, no promises. Just you and me . . .”

The words are too much. This woman is too much. Nothing she has done tonight has shown her to be deceitful. She has been completely upfront and honest and genuine. By inviting me inside, by goading me into making the first move, taking that final step that has led us to the here and now, she’s shown she trusts me to lead this. That feeling alone is heady.

She’s too insightful. Too observant. She’s shot straight through my carefully constructed armor, reinforced out of necessity. Unable to quell the thoughts swirling through my head, I plunge my tongue into her mouth.

In a move I’m coming to appreciate and admire, she takes what I give her without hesitation. In equally mesmerizing measure, she’s matching my ministrations stroke for stroke, not backing down, but not throwing herself at me.

This woman unmans me. It’s liberating to meet someone who wants nothing but my company. Although, the ease I feel with her has me on edge.

“Bedroom,” she mumbles, as she makes to turn away from me. Not willing to let that happen, or to allow myself another chance to second guess myself, I tighten my hold in her hair, tilting her head to the side and nipping her jaw with a trail of open-mouthed kisses as I make my way down her neck.

“Here. Now. Right here. Right now.” I graze my teeth against the soft skin covering her collarbone, flattening my tongue in the ebbs and flows of her delectable body. A body that a vital part wants underneath me immediately, but I also want to draw this out and make the most of the time I have with her. Here, like this, lustful and writhing in my arms, I want everything from this woman—every ounce of her pleasure, every cry of ecstasy, every moan of desire.

“I can’t wait,” I state huskily. Her eyes widen as I suddenly drop to my knees and run my hands up the front of her smooth-skinned thighs, parting them while simultaneously lifting her dress, hooking the fingers of one hand into her black lace panties and jerking them sideways. I reach around and grip her ass, pulling her forward as I bury my face between her legs, running my mouth over her, savoring her sweet, unique taste as it coats my tongue. I circle her clit and plunge two fingers inside of her, grinning as she screams with pleasure. I draw out her wetness with my retreating fingers before moving my mouth downwards, nudging the pert bundle of nerves with my nose as I thrust my jaw forward, spearing my tongue inside of her. The responding gasp and sudden bite of her fingers in my hair is gratifying, making my heart and my straining cock soar.

“Too slow, too damn much.” She groans as she grinds herself against me. Her hands frame my head as she holds me to her, willing me to speed up.

I’m struggling to hold myself in check. She deserves time and care, a soft and delicate worship. Every part of my being is screaming at me to take her hard and fast. It’s dangerous and far too tempting, but I’m not willing to risk losing control with her.

“So fucking good,” I murmur as I start long, languid strokes of my tongue along her slit. “Fucking love how wet you are for me.”

“Fuck, Callum,” she cries as her thighs clench and her climax rockets through her rigid body. Grabbing her ass in both hands, I pull her hips closer so she’s riding my face. My cock throbs against my zipper, aching with need and calling for my own release.

When her body goes limp against mine, I ease back, looking up at her and licking my lips with a smirk. “Nice appetizer. Now I think it’s time for the main course.”

Standing up slowly, I run my hands up the side of her body, pulling her dress up and off at the same time. I leave her in nothing but her matching bra and panties, still askew and baring her to me.

The smile on her flushed face is huge. Wisps of her dark hair cling to her face as she glows with the look of a woman who’s been well satisfied.

We stand there watching each other, our breathing heavy with need. I’m waiting to see what she does next. And like everything she’s done thus far, Lucia doesn’t fail to surprise me when she spins on her heels and struts seductively toward the black suede corner suite that tastefully frames the L-shaped room. With each step she takes, she captivates me—the swing of her ass, the toned lines of her back.

Reaching behind her back, she unclasps her bra, pulling it off but obscuring the view of what I’m desperately aching to see. Stopping a few feet away from the sofa, she slowly runs her hands down her naked sides. Hooking her fingers in either side of her panties, she unhurriedly bends down, easing the flimsy lace over her thighs until she’s exposed to me rendering me speechless.

“So damn sexy,” I rumble as I advance toward her. “Stay like that. Exactly like that.”

“Your wish is my command, Mr. Alexander.”

Fuck, her words hit me like a shot of lust to my groin.

My hands reach her before my body, gripping her hips before sliding around her stomach and along to cup her breasts. A perfect handful that I want to anchor myself to, never to let go of again.

“Callum, you’re not naked.” She moans, arching back into my touch.

“That would involve taking my hands off you, and I’m not sure I want to do that now.” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the dangerous thoughts that are starting to sneak in. I need to be inside her. I need to fuck her hard and fast and stay in control before I’m tempted more than I already am.

Reluctantly dragging my hands off of her body, I quickly undo my slacks and toe off my black leather loafers. I delve my hand into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet and the condom inside it.

Returning my wallet into my pocket, I push my pants down and kick them off before slowly unbuttoning my shirt. Just as I reach the top button, Lucia moves to stand up straight, so I quickly place a firm hand between her shoulders and ease her back down to a right angle. “Stay just like that. I need to take you right here. Just like this. Your ass grinding against my cock as I thrust inside of you.”

“Callum,” she moans as I watch her hand delve between the apex of her thighs, slowly stroking her soaked core.

I rip the foil wrapper with my teeth and sheath my cock, stroking myself firmly a few times as I watch her fingers dip inside. I line myself up with her entrance, resting there while I lean my bare chest over her back. I reach up and shift her hair over one shoulder, placing a reverent kiss at the top of her spine. It’s a measured move aimed to reassure her, and a complete contrast to what my instincts are calling at me to do.

“Inside of me, Callum. I need to feel you.” She groans, her body quivering with need, already desperate for release again.

“Hold on, Luce,” I spit out, as I wrap my arms around her chest and grip her breasts. I watch as she grabs the edge of the couch, her fingers turning white as the anticipation spikes, and I drive into her in one deep, hard thrust.

“Cal . . .” Her moans grow louder as I begin my punishing assault. Our hips jar together as I push forward and she pulls back.

“So . . . fucking . . . good.” I grunt against her neck, my teeth grazing the delicate skin below her ear. I’m not normally vocal during sex. But then again, I’m not normally so close, so intimate with the women I’m sleeping with either.

I can’t be anything but close with Lucia though. It’s akin to an out-of-body experience just being in her presence.

Feeling the pull of my release edge impossibly close, combined with the tightening of Lucia’s sex becoming a rhythmic pulse of the likes I never want to end, I drag one hand down her stomach and frame the connection of our bodies with my fingers.

Not stopping our mind-blowing tempo for even a moment, my other hand grabs Lucia’s hair firmly and turns her face to mine. My breath stops when I see the feral eyes of a woman on the edge of climax. Her face is flushed and clammy, her breath coming out in forced pants with every thrust of my cock inside of her, and her pupils are wide and dilated. “You like it rough, Luce? You like my cock hammering into your cunt?”

“Yessss . . . f . . . fuck!” she stutters.

“You’re a dirty girl. I love a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. Even better if she’s the type of woman who knows what she likes and makes it happen.” I thrust harder, our bodies slapping together with every drive inside of her. I rest my mouth just below her ear, whispering hoarsely, “Are you going to make it happen, Luce? You want to come all over my cock and make me lose control?” I lean forward until I’m just an inch away from her mouth, watching as her tongue darts out and moistens her parched lips.

Then she shocks the hell out of me, turning the tables when she grabs my hand from between us and without breaking eye contact, sucks my wet fingers into her mouth, suckling them hard and fast. It’s exactly how her lips would feel wrapped around my cock. Suddenly my thoughts are a haze, my brain focused on one thing—my impending climax.

“Luce,” I shout, as she tightens around me, catapulting my release sooner than I’d thought possible, my hand stifling Lucia’s scream as she follows me again over the edge.

Resting my sweaty forehead against her back, I continue to thrust in and out of her slowly, gently, riding out the waves of her orgasm, and she leans forward against the couch, which has undoubtedly been moved out of place by now.

Then my brain reengages with my body and I realize what I’ve done. I let myself go, not in control of my actions. That mind-blowing sexual encounter could’ve gone so wrong and I would’ve been powerless to stop it. It’s only that my body had reached its limit and succumbed to the need for release that things didn’t get out of hand. I’m usually in control of my sexual experiences, never losing sight of what I’m doing and whom I’m doing it with. Making sure that they get off before I do so that I’m never striving to give them the elusive orgasm in a way they never would’ve experienced before.

It’s then I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m already in over my head with this woman, and we’ve only had one date. She distracts me from what I need to concentrate on. She’s trouble with a capital T and it’s the kind of trouble that could have dire consequences if left to continue.

I should’ve known when I first kissed her that all paths would lead to this—me standing in her apartment, her sex clenched impossibly tight around my cock, and my brain scattered all across her living room floor.

An hour later, I’m at home in my own bed, having made excuses and leaving Lucia’s apartment shortly after putting our clothes back on.

She sees too much, makes me think too much, and has my mind traveling at warp speed, which is not safe. Earlier tonight is the last time I can allow myself to be in this situation.

There is no way that I can see her again without wanting to sleep with her, without wanting to push the limits with her or, worse still, test both of our boundaries.

Maybe even find out if I have any myself.