going to tell him to take a flying leap. She was going to run back to her room, then back to Los Angeles, certain she’d met the worst of the worst.
And then she did the unthinkable.
She turned over.
She bared her body, and given the way her eyes held his, open and vulnerable, she bared her heart and soul, as well.
Desperately afraid it was his heart, he shoved it out of his thoughts by letting his gaze gobble her up. And there was a hell of a lot to gobble; the woman was a walking wet dream. Her bare breasts were perfect handfuls. No, make that perfect mouthfuls, with their soft curves and rosy nipples, hardening for him into two tight buds that made his jaw ache because he was holding it so tight.
Her ribs rose and fell quickly with her accelerated breathing, and though her camisole and skirt blocked a strip of her belly, he could see enough to know that it was softly rounded and pale and so smooth he wanted to rub his jaw right there.
Just below her bunched-up skirt were those heart-stopping panties. Black. Silky. And riding high enough to fully outline her.
His little L.A. producer was waxed or shaved or whatever mysteries it was that a woman did there. Her long, long shapely legs beckoned, and he ran a hand up one, feeling her tremble. “Cold now?”
Eyes never leaving his, she shook her head.
Holding her gaze, he added his other hand, dancing his fingers up both her thighs, past her panties, skirt and camisole, settling his palms on her ribs.
Again her breath caught, an audible sound in the room.
He stroked over her flawless skin, the very tips of his fingers just barely brushing the undersides of her breasts.
Her nipples tightened even more.
She licked her lips, swallowed hard, but kept looking at him, even when he shifted his hands, gliding them up to cup her beautiful breasts in his palms.
“Oh,” she breathed, startled.
His thumb brushed her distended nipples, then he bent his head to take one into his mouth.
Arching her back, she gripped the sides of the table and let out a soft, erotic hum.
And he was a goner. Lifting his head, he looked down at her, then put his mouth to her jaw, her ear, inhaling her, the scent of her shampoo, her skin. Had he really believed he could just tease her, tease himself, and then walk away without sinking into her body? “Em…”
Her eyes fluttered open, filled with heat and need and something that nearly brought him to his knees.
Affection. Her eyes were swimming with it.
So he closed his and concentrated on the intoxicating scent of her, the feel of her glorious body. “We’re going to do this.”
“Yes,” she shocked him by saying, reaching up, fisting her hand in his shirt, holding him over her, leaving him no choice but to look deep into her eyes. “Now. Please, now.”
As if he could possibly resist. Bending, he kissed the heavy underside of her breast, licked his way to her nipple, and sucked it into his mouth.
Crying out, she arched up again, reaching for him, her warm hand running up his torso and then down again, her fingers tracing the ridges of his ab muscles.
With her breast in his mouth, her nipple pebbling against his tongue, and her hand warm and soft beneath his shirt now, he couldn’t have walked away to save his life. She murmured his name on a sigh as her hand stroked over his bare belly now, then lower, toying with the waistband of his jeans.
It was both heaven and hell. Heaven because touching her like this, looking at her, felt so good. Too good. Hell because he already knew one time with her would never be enough.
Knowing it, pushing it out of his mind, he slid his hand down the length of her arm, twining his fingers with hers, lifting her hand over her head so she couldn’t keep touching him, because if she did, this was going to be over before it started. Apparently with her, he couldn’t control himself. So he took her other hand, pulling it out from beneath his shirt, bringing it up, as well, squeezing lightly.
Her response was a rocking of her hips, a soft wordless plea, which he answered with a kiss. Leaning over her, he opened his mouth on hers and claimed her as his.
Hot, wet, deep, the kiss said it all, sending waves of need and desire to pool behind the buttons on his Levi’s.
“Jacob,” she whispered into his mouth, her breath sweet and hot, the little catches in her throat the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, making him forget the suite, his job, her job, the reason they’d even met, making him forget everything but how soft and giving her mouth was, her tongue just a little shy until he coaxed her with his. It was a kiss that left him wanting a hell of a lot more than what he could get in this position.
He broke contact, his body hardening even further at her low, mewling protest. Moving around from the side of the massage table to the foot, he put a hand on each of her hips and tugged, bringing her up flush against him, her legs sprawled, her black silk-covered crotch snug to his denim-covered one.
Blinking up at him, she smiled, and if his heart hadn’t clutched hard before, it did now. She sat up and reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head, tugging him forward to catch his mouth with hers while her fingers danced over his flesh, making his muscles jerk and bunch with each stroke over his chest, over his stomach, then lower.
Again she toyed with his waistband, and this time didn’t stop there, but pulled hard until the first button popped open. And then the next.
His body surged; his toes curled. He was going to lose it before they’d even started, something that had never happened, even when he’d been young and extremely stupid. He was quickly spiraling out of control here, wanting nothing more than to sink hard and fast into her body, forget finesse.
Again he bent over her, pressing her back to the table, stroking his hands up the undersides of her arms, bringing them back over her head, leaning down to kiss her long and hard, until he felt her writhing against him, until she was panting with the need for more, until she was lost in the passion. There. He had her now. He trailed hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down her torso, flicking his tongue over one nipple, then the other, swirling past her belly button, past the bunched-up clothes in his way.
Standing between her legs as he was, she couldn’t close them, but given how she wrapped them around his hips, she didn’t seem to want to. He curled his fingers into the elastic strip of her bikini panties and tugged.
They ripped free.
At the sound of the silk giving way, she blinked up at him, and he thought,
Instead she arched up again, her bare flesh against his denim, and whispered, “Oh, please.”
He looked down to where her legs were opened, wrapped around his hips.
She was wet, and at the sight he groaned, slipping a finger into her.
Her breath came in short, desperate pants that went into overdrive when he added a second finger, slicking his thumb over ground zero.
“Come,” he murmured, watching his fingers sink in and out of her creamy heat. “I want you to.”
She brought her hands down and gripped his, holding his thumb to the right spot, and as she cried out and began to shudder, he bent over her and drew a nipple into his mouth.
It seemed to draw out her climax, or restart it. Watching her, listening to her, feeling her, made him crazy for her. While she was still lost in the throes, he shoved his jeans to his thighs and grabbed a condom from the still- opened drawer.
She opened her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the biggest, hardest erection he’d ever had, leaving him to stifle his groan as he helplessly pushed into her hand. She squeezed, and stroked him, and somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that she was wrestling his control from him again, and that he was powerless to stop her this time. Everything she was doing, every touch, every sound she made, every look she gave him, drove him closer and closer, until he was standing on the edge.
