He urged her back on the mattress, and grabbed the condom. After quickly rolling on the protection, he settled himself in the warm cradle of her spread thighs. Their eyes met as he slowly sank into her tight, wet heat.
“God…you feel-” he ground out.
“So incredibly good…” she whispered.
“So incredibly good,” he agreed, sinking deeper.
Buried to the hilt, he briefly closed his eyes, absorbing the incredible sensation of her body clamped around him like a hot, silken fist. Then, with his gaze on hers, he eased out nearly all the way, and thrust deep. Her lips parted, emitting a low rumbling sound of approval. He thrust again and again, long, smooth, deep strokes that quickened into driving plunges, each one urging him closer to detonation. Her breathing turned choppy and her fingers bit into his shoulders. When a cry broke from her lips and she arched beneath him, Brett let himself go. His climax roared through his system, shudders racking him with hot jolts of pleasure. When the spasms subsided, he collapsed, burying his face in the warm, fragrant curve of her neck and fought to catch his breath.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he mustered the strength to lift his head. When he did, his heart quickened at the sight of her.
With her skin flushed, hair in wild disarray, moist lips parted and kiss-swollen, Kayla looked completely sated. And utterly beautiful. Propping his weight on his forearms, he brushed a damp auburn strand from her rosy cheek. A low
Forcing a lightness into his voice-one he really had to reach for-he said, “You look…deliciously dazed.”
She stretched beneath him and smiled. “I
“More like thirty thousand. But you changed the entire hypothesis by using your mouth.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Hell, no. In fact, I can’t wait to run my own experiment on you. See if I find similar results, or if it’s just a guy thing. I vote for a nice, warm shower, then another round of orgasm poker. How does that sound?”
Her lips curved into a beautiful smile that stole his breath. “Deal me in, baby. Deal me in.”
7
WEARING Brett’s Hawaiian shirt, which covered her to midthigh, Kayla stepped onto the small balcony of his hotel room. Echoes of music and an indistinguishable hum of voices floated over the cool night air from the nearby Plaza de Armas which was lined with numerous lively bars and discos. The moon shone in the sky, a luminous pearl against black satin. Stars twinkled like handfuls of scattered diamonds, the perfect backdrop for the grandeur of the Andes visible in their silvery glow. A breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it the savory scent of food, and her stomach rumbled. They’d polished off the pizza hours ago.
Settling herself on the wrought-iron chair, she rifled through her canvas bag for her cell phone. She wasn’t sure how long Brett would be gone on his errand to hunt up some bottled water and snacks-what kind of hotel didn’t offer room service anyway?-and since it appeared that she was spending the night here, she needed to grab what would probably be her only chance to privately check her messages.
Flipping open her phone, which she’d set on Silent, Kayla noted she had eight voice mails and twenty text messages in her inbox. With a sigh, she opted to get the voice mails over with first. Three of the messages were from Meg regarding the wedding plans-no big surprise there. Two from Cindy, one asking how she liked the name Butterfly for a girl, the other complaining about Meg. Two calls were from her mom, one reiterating she was too young to be a grandmother, the other reporting that her hairdresser’s son’s divorce was final and that he’d be
The last message was from Nelson, left an hour ago, and she stilled as she heard his voice coming through the phone. “Hope the reason you’re not answering this call is because you’re somewhere with Thornton finding out everything you can about him and that damn formula. Keep me informed.”
She disconnected from voice mail and buried her face in her hands. Guilt weighed heavily on her, along with something else…something she was reluctant to name because she didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way it made her feel about herself and what she was doing.
She blew out a long sigh. Yes, damn it, she was ashamed. Because she’d searched through his belongings as soon as he’d departed the room. Searched for something, anything that might offer the sort of clue Nelson expected her to find. But instead of feeling as if she were doing her job, she’d felt like a sneak. And she’d been disgusted with herself for invading his privacy. She’d had to force herself to do it, but that did little to assuage her conscience as she’d still done it. Her search had only served to tarnish the thrill and excitement of being with him with the crushing feeling that she no longer deserved to share such intimacies with him.
As soon as she’d discerned that he didn’t carry any folders marked Secret Formula or notebooks with scientific notations, she’d ceased her search, but the damage to her conscience was done. All she’d learned was that he packed light, had an obvious liking for Hawaiian print shirts, and clearly didn’t wear cologne. And that she didn’t like herself very much at that moment.
Since not liking herself felt uncomfortably close to the truth, Kayla shoved the notion aside and concentrated on the only slightly less palatable feeling crushing her-guilt. Guilt which was impossible to ignore as it was bombarding her from two directions.
One direction hinged on the fact that during the six hours she’d spent in Brett’s hotel room, she hadn’t
No, instead she’d thought of nothing but Brett. Of the incredible way he made her feel. How much she enjoyed his company. His intelligence and wit. His smile. His talented hands and mouth on her body. The single-minded concentration with which he explored and touched her.
His effect on her, her body and her senses, was nothing short of extraordinary. She’d experienced arousal and desire, lust and infatuation before, but this was like all those emotions tossed into a windstorm, then multiplied by ten. Which was ridiculous, considering she’d just met him. Yet her fierce attraction to him was undeniable.
Nor was it solely physical. Through the course of the afternoon and evening, she’d learned a great deal about him-all of which only served to confirm the favorable impression she’d formed when she’d first encountered him in the plaza.
Unfortunately the things she’d found out about him were not the sort of things Nelson wanted to know. He wanted to know if the formula really produced the anti-aging and aphrodisiac-like results Brett claimed, how it was able to do so, and what La Fleur needed to do to obtain it. Instead she’d discovered that Brett had played on his high-school tennis team. That he enjoyed a mean game of chess and singing in the shower, but he was completely tone-deaf and couldn’t carry a tune if you handed it to him in a gift box, which had led to much laughter…which had led to much kissing, which had led to the discovery that singing was only thing he didn’t excel at in the shower.
After their shower, while gorging on their pizza, she’d learned he’d been raised on Long Island, his parents still lived in the house where he grew up, he loved animals and museums, and disliked lima beans and noisy, trendy clubs. He always worked the
They’d discussed a wide array of topics, from movies-he liked old war films and new action-adventure flicks, anything where stuff was blown up, while she preferred romantic comedies-to books, where they’d discovered a mutual love of Agatha Christie and Harry Potter. They’d voted for the same candidate in the last election, and both loved Chinese food-although he preferred chicken with black bean sauce while her favorite was shrimp with broccoli.
