Текст книги "Lost and Found"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Well,” she teased when he rested the solid crotch of his pants against her thigh. “I can tell you’re ready.”

He closed his eyes, his hunger for her made almost unbearable by the taste of sweet wine she left on his lips. “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be ready too.”

He put his hand beneath her skirt and trailed his finger along the satin edge of a soaking wet g-string, smothering her approving moan with another kiss. The ache in his groin intensified.

“I think you’re right,” she gasped when he let her go.

The doors opened. They greeted an older couple waiting to take the elevator and managed to maintain their composure until the door to his room locked behind them.

Then he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ve got to have you,” he insisted, expressing the thought that had plagued him all evening. He stepped up behind her and kissed the back of her neck, then lowered the zipper of her dress, his mouth following each tooth as it opened.

By the time he reached the zipper’s end, he was kneeling on the floor with the skinny strap of those panties right in front of him, urging him to tear the thing off. But he had just one night a year with her, and he wouldn’t end it within the first three minutes.

The dress and the lingerie hit the floor before he had a chance to contemplate his next move. He looked up, managing to catch the mischievous grin on his lady’s face before she turned and strode across the room, the silken curves of her ass draped in nothing but moonlight.

He stood, his fingers clenched with the need to touch her. “Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.”

She opened the French doors that led to a private terrace and disappeared around the corner. “Care to join me?” her voice called through the darkness.

He nearly ran to the balcony, stopping just long enough to pull protection from his pocket and take off his suit. When he found her, she was shoulder-deep in the hot tub, curling her index finger at him.

“Hurry,” she whispered. He could see her squirming beneath the bubbly surface.

“You sure know how to make a man crazy.”

He sank into the warm water and pulled her against him, relishing the reunion of their naked bodies. The money and power that accompanied his position at Insomnia never left him without a date for long, but this woman was no ordinary piece of arm candy. She charged him like an electric current, and their annual rendezvous was just about the only time he felt like a flesh-and-blood man instead of a corporate puppet.

Without exception, when he took other women out, they immediately brought up his job. Each of them shared a mammoth interest in his money and his ability to discover the next pin-up girl.

But not this one. The woman in front of him was wet, naked, and beautiful—and completely uninterested in his paycheck. He didn’t think he’d find a more perfect woman if he could design one himself.

Her fingers entwined in his hair, tugging him from his thoughts. She kissed him with a desperation that seemed to match his and pushed him down until he sat on the tub’s ledge, the water swirling around his ribs. Then she straddled his lap.

“I need your touch.”

Her words energized him and brought his full attention back to the reason they were there. He dropped his hand under the bubbles, skimming her torso until he found the softness between her thighs and unraveled her desire.

“Here?”

“Alex…” She surged against his chest and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.

“That wasn’t a scream,” he objected.

“Not yet it wasn’t.”

He massaged her, increasing the pace of his stroke while she squirmed and begged and then came hard, bucking against him and crying out loud. Still trembling, she shifted in his lap, took his shaft in her hand and rubbed it against her flesh.

“Do it,” she urged.

Her pleas turned to moans when he complied, slipping inside her and reacquainting himself with her warmth, her kisses, her cries. When he was lost in the taste and scent and feel of her, once again sharing with her the deepest kind of intimacy, he realized there was one problem with his perfect woman.

He didn’t know her, not the way he should. At least she could list some of his basic information, like his position at the company and what his mother had been calling him since birth. He couldn’t do the same for her. He knew that if he leaned down and sucked on her nipple right now, she’d come again. And if he gently bit the tender spot on her neck, right behind her earlobe, she’d arch backward and push him further into her body.

It was incredible, but it wasn’t enough. Not when he held her so close that he couldn’t tell his breath from hers, and when he kept imagining waking up in his bed at home with her beside him.

He anchored one hand on her hip and brushed the other through her mass of platinum curls, the ends wet and clinging to her breasts. “Tell me your name.”

She blinked, uncertainty clouding her face. But he looked into her eyes and moved slowly within her, and she relaxed. “It’s Jacey.”

“That’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you. Alex.” She giggled, then gasped and held tightly to him as he began to thrust harder. Her hips matched his intense rhythm, and he broke into a sweat caused by more than the temperature of the water.

At last, he knew her name.