Текст книги "Sweet Sinful Nights"

Автор книги: Lauren Blakely

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Inside the room, she grabbed his shirt and furiously began unbuttoning it. She didn’t bother to glance around the room, to take in the surroundings, to comment on the thread count or the mood lighting, or the unparalleled view of the Strip from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Nor did he.

He saw nothing but her as they made their way to the couch by the window, where she pushed him down as she finished opening his shirt. She stood in front of him, bent forward, and let her long hair tickle his chest.

Fire burned in his blood. He needed her. Desperately.

“Forgive me,” she said. She was up to something. She had that twinkle in her eye.

“You don’t need forgiveness,” he rasped out as she began to sway, her hips moving seductively side to side. Oh holy hell of a hard-on. She was doing it. She was going to become his fucking fantasy. He loved nothing more than when she did her stripteases.

She trailed her fingernails down his chest. “How about a little music, handsome?”

He grabbed his phone from his pocket, and scrolled through his music at the speed of light. In seconds, Marcy Playground’s “Sex and Candy” blasted from his phone.

“Perfect for you, babe,” he said as he grasped her hips, and she wagged her index finger, tsking him.

“You know the rules.” She spread her palms over his chest. He inhaled deeply, his body rocketing with pleasure at the feel of her touching him. She glided her talented palm over the hard ridge of his erection, setting off fire after fire inside his body.

She was an arsonist. And she was a tease. She took her hand away.

“No. Tell me the rules,” he said.

“They’re different tonight, since you’re leaving in thirty minutes,” she said, hiking up her dress and straddling him.

His cock throbbed in his jeans. What he wouldn’t give to have her touching him right now. Hands, mouth, pussy—any or all of the above, please.

“What are the rules then?” he asked, breathing erratically as she moved on him, a stripper’s dance, grinding and teasing to the music.

“No sex, because I can’t bear the thought of you getting on a plane right after. Instead, we’re going to play fantasy night,” she said, swiveling around. She arched her back, her long hair spilling down her spine. Lust pinballed through him with every succulent move she made, every bump of her ass, every sway of her hips, every press of her against any part of his skin.

“Which fantasy? You’re going to need to be a little more specific because I have about twenty million fantasies involving you,” he said, holding tight to her hips as she moved up and down on him.

She shifted off him, and he nearly grabbed her and slammed her back down. Contact. He needed contact with this red-hot woman who was sending the mercury in him soaring to record highs. But she was running the show. She stood and brushed her hand from her breasts, down her belly, to her thighs. He groaned loudly, his right hand dropping to his erection.

“That one,” she answered quickly, eyeing his crotch. “That fantasy. The one where you get off to me dancing for you. The one you told me about in your club.”

He narrowed his eyes. She couldn’t be serious. “You’re here with me, and you want me to jack off instead?”

She nodded, and arched a naughty eyebrow. “I want to watch you touch yourself as I dance. I want to witness how turned on you get just from looking at me. I want to know how you’ve looked for the last ten years when you’ve lusted for me.”

“You’re a fucking vixen seductress,” he said on a low hum.

“I know, and you love it.”

“I do,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Show me. Show me what I missed. Show me what I would have walked in on if I had come over some night when you were fantasizing about me,” she said, her body in synch with every beat of the music.

He motioned for her to come closer. “C’mon. I want your hands on me. I want your lips on me. I want to feel you.”

“You will. But right now, give me this,” she said in a pleading tone, running her hands along his thighs as she wiggled her ass high in the air. She unsnapped the button of his jeans, and there were no more questions. She was winning. She was having her way. His dick ached with the need to be touched. If he had to do it himself, then that was what he’d do.

He unzipped his jeans, freeing his erection.

The look in her eyes was one for the ages. Her lips parted and she breathed heavily, sighing in admiration as he wrapped his hand around his cock. Finally some relief at last from the throbbing. The chorus of the song built, and she backed away, returning to the center of the room, inching up her skirt, revealing her panties.

Moving. Dancing. Swaying.

So fucking sensual. So incredibly seductive.

Her body was a dream.

Her eyes feasted on him with each thrust of her pelvis, each sway of her hips. The way she gazed at him unleashed tremors of pleasure inside him, knowing she was savoring the sight of his hand on his cock. His fantasy—her stripping for him as he enjoyed the view—was her fantasy too.

He stroked himself, harder, faster, not needing much right now because he was so damn aroused already. She unzipped her dress, letting the straps slide down her arms, then to her waist, revealing those twin globes of gorgeous flesh.

“Bring those beautiful tits to me,” he growled out, and she came to him, sinking down on his thigh, rubbing herself on him as she brought her breasts closer. In all the times he’d been with her this go-around, he hadn’t seen her breasts, so lush and full. Now, they were on display for him.

“Anything for you,” she whispered as she pushed them in his face. His tongue darted out, sampling a rosy peak. “Mmm,” he murmured as he licked her nipple, then drew her deeper into his mouth.

Then, she pulled away from him returning to her dance. “More,” she said, tipping her chin to his crotch. “I love watching you.”

“Yeah? You like knowing what you did to me when you were gone?” He shuttled his hand harder, working his fist over his dick as he had many times while picturing her. “You like knowing this is how I was? Rock hard and worked up for you?”

“Yes,” she said, as she pushed her dress past her hips, showing him the top of her panties. White lacy panties. Blood pounded in his cock as he gripped himself.

“Look what you do to me. You get me so crazy with wanting you. You love turning me on. You move your hips–I’m hard. You walk into the room–I’m ready to take you. God forbid you bend down to pick up something that dropped. You don’t even want to know what’s going through my head.”

“Oh, I do. I do want to know,” she said, sliding the dress past her panties, letting it fall on the floor.

His hand tugged harder. His breathing grew unsteady. “Grabbing your hair, pushing you against a chair. Lifting your ass in the air, and sinking deep into your sweet, wet pussy.”

It was her turn to moan, a throaty, feminine moan that made his balls tighten. She returned to him, clad only in her panties and the shoes he’d bought for her. “I love watching you touch yourself, knowing you’re thinking of fucking me.”

“I’m always thinking of fucking you, Shannon,” he said, on an upstroke. His spine tingled as she resumed her lap dance, her heat mercilessly close to his dick. He was going to come soon.

All over his hand.

He let go of his grip, and grabbed her hips instead, holding her as she hovered over him. She froze mid-grind. “You stopped,” she said, surprised.

He nodded. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not coming in my motherfucking hand. I’ll get on the flight blue-balled and arrive in New York in the morning with a raging hard-on that hurts. But I’m not coming with you for the first time in ten years in my own goddamn hand.”

A wicked grin lit up her face. She licked her lips. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“No. We can’t have that at all.”

She leaned in, her breasts pressed to his chest, her mouth on his jaw. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

“Show me now,” he said, and she dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips around him. He groaned so damn loudly from pleasure, from the absolute otherworldly bliss of those lips. She was an angel of mercy tonight. She didn’t tease. She didn’t lick the tip. She drew him deep, taking him all the way, and he threw back his head and moaned.

“You did miss me,” he said, as pleasure ricocheted through him. “Show me how much. Show me how much you missed sucking me.”

He laced his hands through her hair, curling his fingers around her head as she bobbed up and down. The friction was intense, as her mouth sucked tight and her tongue became a wicked instrument of carnal pleasure. She was a vision, with her hair spread across his thighs, and her lips full and ripe. Only one thing would make this better right now. One thing would make this the blow job of a lifetime.

“You’re killing me with your gorgeous mouth, but you need to get undressed now,” he said, standing up quickly to strip off his shirt and jeans all the way. “Everything but the shoes.”

She shot him a look that said don’t be silly. “I know you like me to leave my shoes on, Brent,” she said, standing up to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, slide them down her legs, and step out of them. She dangled them on one finger in front of him, like a temptation. He grabbed them, brought them to his nose, and inhaled her honey, sexy scent. She smelled like sweet pussy, exactly as she fucking should. He threw them somewhere in the room.

She bent over in front of him, enacting another one of his fantasies. His arm shot out, and he grabbed her hair, and pulled hard. She moaned loudly and raised her head, gazing back at him, her eyes so naughty. The fucking vixen. She knew exactly what she was doing. “Like that?”

“Yes. Just like that. Now get on me,” he told her as he lay down on the carpet. “Let me eat your pussy while you suck my dick. The only thing that makes a blow job from you better is when I can taste you at the same time.” She obliged, straddling his face, and lowering herself to him as she took him between her lips once more.

His tongue darted out, so eager to taste her, to lick her, to savor her sweet heat. In an instant, she was rocking back into him. This was heaven. Her mouth was gripping his cock, and she was pressed naked on top of him with her delicious pussy in his face, her fantastic ass bobbing up and down. He licked her sweetness, flicking his tongue against her swollen clit. Instantly she cried out, dropping him from her mouth.

He didn’t care anymore about his pleasure. All he wanted was her taste. To be smothered in it. To feel her arousal all over his chin, his mouth, his face. She was dripping on him—wetness, glorious fucking wetness everywhere. He was coated in her pleasure, and she fucked his face hard, rocking into him, grinding on him.

He loved the way she moved that gorgeous ass. He needed to touch it. To slap it. He raised his hand and smacked her rear.

“Oh,” she cried out, a sexy, needy moan.

He did it again. The same gorgeous sound landed on his ears.

He ran a finger between her wet folds, sliding through her slippery paradise, and she moved faster, pumping like there was no tomorrow. Like there was only this, only this pleasure.

Her wetness was a gift, one that had to be used freely. He had no choice. He simply needed to spread the wealth. To share all this glistening liquid heat. He slid his finger across her folds once more, then pressed his wet fingertip against her bottom as he licked her. She tensed, tightening everywhere, then he slid a finger inside her rear. She screamed his name in pleasure.

She cried out as she tightened all around him, every part of her squeezing, shaking, trembling.

She bucked against his face and his finger, rocking hard and riding out the waves that crashed through her. Her cries rang in his ears like a rock song. She collapsed on him and moaned softly in pleasure.

No time to linger. It was his turn.

He gave her a few seconds before sliding from under her. He stood up. His dick was at attention.

“Get on your knees now and finish me off,” he told her, in a clear and direct command.

Her eyes lit up and she obliged, crawling to her knees. She started with her thumb, spreading the drops of liquid around the tip of his cock.

“Take me in deep” he instructed. “Like you did before.”

“That’s the only way I do it.”

“Remind me. Remind me how you always drove me wild.” He traced his fingertip over her top lip. “I need to own that pretty little mouth of yours right now.”

She looked up at him as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, her other hand playing with his balls. “Own me, Brent. You already do.”

The head of his dick hit the back of her throat, and he pumped. He gripped her hair, drawing her closer, so she had to take him all the way.

“I can’t hold back anymore,” he groaned, as he pushed her hair away from her face, giving himself a view of her lips on him. “I’m going to fuck your mouth hard now. Can you handle it, babe?” he asked, as he began. She nodded, and that was all he needed. Permission to take over her mouth completely.

To occupy every inch of her.

This wouldn’t last long. Thirty seconds, a minute tops. He was damn near there already.

“You’re so fucking beautiful on your knees. So fucking perfect,” he said, the words trailing off as his spine ignited, pleasure crackling through his bones as her sexy lips drew him in.

He hit her throat. Another deep thrust, and he was there. “I’m going to come so fucking hard,” he whispered, his fingers curling around her skull. Lust slammed into him, tearing through every cell in his body. He closed his eyes, and the world turned black and brilliant.

It was his turn to groan. To shout her name. To throw back his head and grunt in everlasting pleasure as he gave to her what she’d given to him.

His pleasure, for hers.

CHAPTER TWENTY

He hated leaving, detested zipping his jeans, tucking in his shirt, and shoving his wallet in his back pocket. Especially since she was so snug and adorable under the white duvet on the king-size bed. She pulled the covers up to her chin, looking too cute for words. He loved how she could switch from naughty temptress to sweet princess in seconds. “Seeing as you snagged this suite for me, seems a sin to let it go unused,” she said.

“You do look comfortable.”

She shooed him away. “Go to New York. I’m going to enjoy this fabulous bed all by myself.” She sighed contentedly, settling into the plush white pillow.

“You’re killing me,” he said as he grabbed his phone from the couch, patting his pockets to finish his inventory.

“Oh, I’m sure the plane will be just as nice. The only thing those first class seats will be missing is... me,” she said, with a wicked glint in her eyes.

He jammed a hand in his hair and walked over to the bed, parking his hands on the side of the mattress. “What I wouldn’t give to get in this bed with you right now.”

“It’s especially nice if you’re naked against the sheets,” she said, turning on her side, taunting him as the duvet slipped to above her breasts, exposing her bare shoulders.

“What are you doing on Tuesday? I’m back then. Spend the night with me. My first meeting Wednesday isn’t till ten in the morning, so I promise I won’t cut it short.”

“If you don’t intend to cut it short, you’re going to need to get that fine ass of yours to San Francisco,” she said, snaking out a hand from under the covers and grabbing his rear. “I’m there for the on-site rehearsal. At your club. I don’t fly back till late Tuesday.”

“Mmm,” he said, stroking his chin. “I just remembered I need to visit Edge in San Francisco on Tuesday night, and then take you back here with me.”

“You don’t want to just meet up back here?”

“No. Because I’ll leave New York in the morning so I’ll see you a few hours sooner if I don’t have to wait in Vegas for you to finish and catch your flight.”

“Consider that a yes.” She smiled broadly. “Get out of here, Nichols. You’ll miss your flight.”

He bent down and claimed her lips one final time, lingering on her sweet taste, hoping it stayed with him until he could touch her again in a few days.

If anyone had asked him a few weeks ago if he’d ever see the love of his life again, much less kiss her, he’d have given a resounding no. Fate had been teaching him a lesson up until then. Don’t walk away from the greatest thing you’ve ever known, you stupid idiot.

Fate had been beating that one into his head. Relentlessly. Like water torture.

Then, he’d been granted a reprieve.

He took one last kiss for the road. “I’ll see you in San Francisco then.”

The little flecks of gold in her emerald eyes nearly sparkled. “When? When will you arrive?”

She sounded so damn eager to see him, too, and for the first time since he’d started chasing her again, he truly felt as if he was close to catching her, wrapping his arms around her, and holding her for always. Maybe she was on the same wavelength, too.

“I’ll book my flight as soon as possible. I’ll text you the details.”

She scrunched up the corner of her lips. “Hmm. I wonder if I should keep making you wait more. For the thing you really want.”

He grumbled in protest, then relented. “The thing I want is you. I will wait for you as long as I have to,” he said, then took a beat. A pause for effect. “But preferably not much longer.”

She laughed. “We’ll see what kind of mood I’m in when you get to San Francisco.”

“Then it will be my job to get you in the mood to spread those legs, wrap them around my back, and dig in your heels,” he said, trailing his fingers between her breasts, savoring the last arch of her back as she responded to his touch.

She looked so vulnerable. So open. So ready for him. She’d given her body to him so freely during the last few weeks. And the more she gave of the physical, the more she seemed to be opening her heart to him again.

As she met his eyes, he was reminded once more of that stay of execution he’d been granted. The amnesty from his past mistakes. He couldn’t let her slip away again.

He ran his thumb over her chin, and pressed his finger over her lips. “Don’t say anything. It’s my turn, and I want to leave you with this. I’m crazy for you. Completely, absolutely, thoroughly crazy about you.”

Her eyes glittered, and on that note he walked away.

But this time, he was coming back.

He was leaving having said the right words, instead of the wrong ones. Even though they barely scratched the surface of all he felt for her.

* * *

She wasn’t going to listen to his orders not to say anything.

She might have put him through his paces, made him jump through a few hoops, but she wasn’t going to let him be the only one of them to take a risk.

He was changing, and hell, so was she.

“Brent!”

He stopped at the door. His hand gripped the knob. He turned to look at her. She read nervousness in his gaze, hope in his stance.

“I feel the same,” she said, her heart pounding hard against her chest, trying to leap to him.

With tonight cut off at the knees, now was so clearly not the time to dig deep and tunnel all through the past to the most broken parts of them. But she could start this way—by telling him that she was falling, too. Somehow they’d shifted from him trying to prove himself, to her wanting to show she was worthy of him, too. Worthy of all his affection, of his tender gestures, of his humor, and of his heart.

She knew him well. He was easy. He was simple in the best of ways. All he’d ever wanted was to know her. To understand her past, to help her, to be the one she could lean on. When they were together before, he’d struggled mightily with her need to keep some things buried. While she’d have to find a better time—when they had time—to serve up the story of how her life had capsized in a London hospital, she could give him this much tonight—these words, these feelings that had raced well beyond the physical and claimed a portion of her heart.

“I’m crazy for you, too,” she added.

Then she let him go, the sound of the door snapping closed sealing off the night. She’d replay it as she drifted off into bed. All of it. From the wow to the crazy for you, and every toe-curling, heart-beating, blood-pounding moment in between. Even their fight in the elevator. Because some things might change, but some would remain the same.

They were fire.

* * *

She woke up to a text message. A dirty, naughty one that sent a hot shiver through her body.

I can still taste you.

Then a sweet one. Text me when you wake up, sunshine. I have something for you.

She wrote back instantly. I’m up, and glad to hear you enjoyed your dessert last night.

As she pushed off the covers, his reply arrived. I could have you for dessert for every meal. Every snack. Every second of every day. You taste spectacular.

Then Brent texted her that she had an open tab at the Luxe spa to spend the day getting pampered. Massage, pedicure, hot stones, whatever it is that happens in spas that you like—it’s yours today. That sounded like a fantastic way to spend her Sunday, so she replied, You win. You’ve made it impossible not to like you again.

She hopped in the shower, luxuriating in the hot jets of the rainforest-style showerhead, and replaying the almost-sex with the man she’d wanted to marry. He could bring it. Oh hell, he could bring it every time. There was no B game from Brent Nichols. He fired on all cylinders all the time. A game only.

She turned off the spray, dried her body, reapplied lip gloss, and freshened her breath with the hotel toothpaste. She’d slipped back into last night’s dress when she heard a knock on the door.

When she opened it, she revised his grade. Make that A plus game—both in bed and in treating her like a queen.

Because, courtesy of Mr. Nichols, room service was delivering a bowl of fresh blueberries, a serving of steel-cut oatmeal, and a steaming pot of black coffee, one sugar on the side. Her favorite breakfast. Her heart grew wings and soared around the room like an animated bird.

A series of messages rained down on her screen, one right after the other.

The car service will be waiting for you as soon as you’re ready to head home.

No woman of mine is cabbing it after I come in her mouth.

Hard. Come hard.

Very hard.

Have I mentioned how absolutely divine your lips are?

Off to lunch. I trust your mood for Tuesday is going to be hot and bothered.

As she read them all, a rush of heat spread through her veins, remembering the night before when he’d ordered her to finish him off. She loved that commanding tone he’d used, just as it turned her on to no end when he called her woman of mine. She wasn’t sure precisely when she’d become his woman again, but after the last two weeks, she felt like his. Which scared her and thrilled her.

In equal measures.

As she left the room, she replied. Hot, bothered, and well fed, apparently. THANK YOU.

She’d closed out of her text messages when an idea hit her. Something she could give to him. She leaned against the hallway wall, and found a photo-altering app she used sometimes on her phone. She opened an image from her gallery, added a few details to it, then attached the photo to the thread and sent it off to him.

Then she did something she hadn’t done since college.

The walk of shame.

Her stilettos clicked loudly on the sleek gray floor of the lobby as she headed to the elevator bank that would take her to the spa level. She kept her chin up high and strolled through the hotel as if she owned the right to walk through it the morning after in the same dress, same shoes, same earrings, and a new big, fat grin.

Probably everyone there at the Luxe would be able to tell she’d had some seriously hot action last night. Come to think of it, she didn’t mind if anyone knew. The after-glow from a great orgasm was a damn good look. She could market a line of skin care products in that style. O Glow. She chuckled to herself, making a beeline for the elevators when her cell bleated loudly from her purse. Flipping open her bag, she reached for her phone.

Ryan Sloan.

Her shoulders tensed. She shouldn’t feel that way about hearing from her brother, but given their last conversation, she had a hunch what was on his mind.

“Hey Ry,” she said.

“Hey. What are you up to?”

She glanced around. Okay, fine. She might not care if strangers thought she looked like a woman who’d gotten some, but her brother didn’t need the details of her sex life, which would be obvious if she said she was leaving a hotel.

“I just finished breakfast. What about you?”

“Heading to the gun range for a little practice.”

She shuddered involuntarily. Even though she owned one, guns were not on her list of favorite things. Ryan was in the security business though, so he needed to stay sharp.

“Aim carefully,” she said, as she leaned against a nearby wall.

“Hey, remember what we talked about at Grandma’s?”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.

“I got some more info. I need to talk to you.”

She drew a deep breath, her pulse skittering with nerves. “Tell me.”

“Not on the phone. Let’s meet up.”

She glanced at the time. “You’re over at Reiss Range, right?”

“Should be there for an hour.”

That gave her enough time to change into something simpler. Something that wouldn’t scream that she’d been licked senseless the previous night. Because whatever Ryan needed to tell her did not necessitate her wearing fuck-me shoes.

“I’ll be there.”

She dialed the car service number Brent had left for her. The driver told her he’d be there in five minutes.

So much for the spa. She couldn’t relax now if she’d wanted to.

Soon, she slipped into the town car, savoring the cool air, and the final few moments of this cocoon—the morning-after moments, as she floated down from her high from last night. Any minute, her feet would touch the cold, hard ground again.