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It had robbed enough from her already.
“I think a man with so much experience in adventure would make a very good guide in the realm of thrill-seeking sex.”
God knows where she got the nerve to say it. Maybe it had been the champagne talking, although with only a small glass and a bonus sip to her credit, she hardly thought so. And damn it, she stood firmly behind the sentiment. This was her week for adventure.
Devon stared out the window at the sparkling lights below for so long she wondered if he’d heard her. But then, he turned the full, heated impact of his gaze toward her and she knew he’d most definitely heard.
“Are you in the market for a guide, Jenny?”
His low-spoken words seemed to tremble through her skin, reverberating along her nerves and stirring her very blood. She would never find another opportunity like this, a stranger who came to her—on safe terrain—in the middle of the night and stayed with her until she wasn’t scared.
Until she was entirely intrigued.
“Yes I am.” She didn’t hesitate. “I want the thrills.”
Devon had never heard sweeter words. A plea for sex from a sensuous woman who wanted as much adrenaline in her ride as he did.
He reached for her the same moment she leaned toward him. Fingers sinking into the chin-skimming platinum hair, he hauled her close. Her gardenia scent teased his nose for a moment before his mouth found hers. He drew on her lips, tugging the lower one into his mouth to nip and suck and taste her. Her champagne flavor and slick warmth made his senses spin and he reached to pull her back on his lap where he’d wanted her to be again ever since he’d held her there earlier.
Jenny wound her arms around his neck, and then, too restless to be still, she trailed light scratches down his back, hastening him. He’d never expected this woman, garbed in delicate white who’d hyperventilated over the sight of him in her room, to generate so much heat.
The music playing had switched from Beethoven to Rachmaninoff, a venture to the dark side that suited Devon’s mood well. Tunneling beneath her flannel robe, he cupped the smooth curve of her sweet, heart-shaped ass that he hadn’t gotten to appreciate nearly enough the first time she’d been seated across his thighs. She wore a lace and satin thong cut in a mouthwatering V shape as if to point him in the direction he needed to touch. As if he needed any reminders.
But he couldn’t go there first, not when he’d promised a thrill ride she wouldn’t forget. First they needed the slow, upward climb, the steady build of anticipation that made the first plunge knock your breath right out of your lungs.
Careful not to stray beneath the elastic of her panties, he skimmed his palm up over the curve of her waist to cup one lace-covered breast. The weight in his hand had him even harder than he’d been five seconds ago, which was saying a hell of a lot since he didn’t know how much more a zipper could take.
Thankfully, her restless fingers tracked down his shoulders and over his abs to address the situation, although the way she brushed and grazed the head of him as she worked threatened to take him over the first precipice too damn soon.
Covering her fingers with his own, he helped her ease down the zipper. “I’m not going to be much of a guide if I lose it before we get naked.”
“Are you kidding?” She didn’t even pause to look at him in her fascination with what she’d unveiled. “We could stop now and this would still be the biggest thrill of my life. The very biggest.”
She peered up at him then through her lashes, a slow smile of invitation curving her swollen lips. The subtle suggestion that she would comply with just about anything he wanted held him riveted.
And just like that his control started splintering. Sex with Jenny wouldn’t be about finely tuned mechanics and seamless engineering. Things were going to get wild and out of his control and there wasn’t a thing he could do to change that.
He peeled away her robe, tugging the tie free until the flannel fell from her shoulders and slid to the floor. Her bra strap drooped down her arm along with it, and Devon peeled the cup the rest of the way off to expose first one breast and then the other.
She was so pretty, her creamy skin pale and perfect and highlighted by taut, rosy tips that puckered even tighter as he watched. He bent for a taste and her spine arched, head falling back as he licked, suckled and drew on each pebbled nipple. His hands worked the clasp as he laved the delicate skin, freeing the soft cleavage for him to gently knead and squeeze until she moaned and writhed beneath him.
Her leg snaked around his hip, telling him exactly what she wanted. He wanted that, too. Wanted her. All over him.
She was so soft. Her hair. Her breasts. Her silky skin. And that utter femininity, the distinct sexuality of her body, made him rock-hard by contrast. He edged her backward on the sofa, leaning her down until her shoulders hit the leather cushions. The need to be on top of her, over her, dominating her at least this first time gripped him with a fierceness he didn’t recognize.
“This time will be fast.” But he wasn’t leaving until he’d given her everything, until he couldn’t remember his own name. “And hard.”
“I’m ready.” She undid the buttons on his shirt, shoving away the starched cotton to feel his skin. “More than ready for that.”
Lifting off her enough to step out of his clothes, he heard a champagne glass roll across the coffee table and thud to the carpet on the other side. A candle flame somewhere in the room wavered wildly from the air disturbed by tossing his clothes away.
“Are you sure?” He pulled her thong down her thigh, blessing her foresight for wearing the panties over top of the lace garter belt hugging her waist. “Because I need you really ready for me. Hot. Wet.”
He kissed her mouth as his hand parted her thighs to see for himself. And she was both. So damn hot. Wet enough to slick his finger with her and tease a shudder from the touch.
“You like that, Jenny?” He would gladly stroke her this way all night if he could make her quiver again.
Her hazel eyes fluttered open to stare up at him in the warm glow of candlelight, her pupils dilated so wide he could scarcely see the irises.
“I’d like more,” she whispered, her tone full of spark and fire even when he had her trembling beneath him. “I want all of you inside me.”
Ah damn, now it was him who suppressed a shiver, her words teasing him more powerfully than any touch.
“Condom.” Why hadn’t he taken the ones he’d grabbed at the spa out of his pocket before he tossed aside his pants? “Wait.”
He reached for his trousers, hands practically shaking with the need to have her now. It had been so damn long for him and being with Jenny was like a libido accelerator, propelling him forward on raw sexual need.
“Let me.” She checked the other pocket while his hand tangled in the first and a second later she emerged with a foil wrapper. “I want to put it on.”
He grit his teeth, knowing he’d never survive her hands on him but damn it, he couldn’t say no when this time would be so quick.
“Okay.” His voice hit a ragged note as he tossed aside the couch pillows to make more room. “But I’m hanging by a thread here, Jen.”
He watched her face while she worked, unable to enjoy the visual of her hands on him or he’d be done for sure. To her credit, she rolled it on smoothly, quickly.
“Me, too,” she whispered back, spreading her legs for him to take his place between them. “I need you so—” her voice caught as he eased inside, the room going silent for a long moment before he thrust in the rest of the way and she squealed in response “—badly.”
He held her steady to kiss her, lick her, devour her. He needed to get used to her, to halt the rapid-fire hammering of his pulse so he could give her the ride she deserved. Somehow, some way, he’d scavenge up at least that much control.
“Oh. Ooh.” But then her breathless sighs started, her sweet moans and soft cries that were better music than anything Rachmaninoff could have created.
Devon lifted her enough to swivel her body, planting his feet on the floor and seating her on the couch to give himself leverage. If good sex owed anything to mechanics, he’d get this right for her. Control or no control, damn it.
Slipping two fingers between their bodies he found her clit and circled. Her thighs tightened and he picked up speed as he moved inside her, the couch cushions sliding beneath them as he thrust.
Her cries increased as his fingers worked, the broken words panting, chanting in his ear.
“Please, please, please. Yes, right there.”
He could feel the throbbing of her feminine muscles, the clamping and unclamping until she squeezed him so damn tight he couldn’t hold back another second.
“Ooh!” Her shout of satisfaction mingled with his own, their voices ragged and rough while their bodies hummed and vibrated together in one last straining dance.
Jenny’s breathing slowed and finally evened out, but Devon didn’t think he could move. Not quite yet anyway. Their bodies remained sealed together by sweat and sex, skin sticking to the leather sofa. He just lay slumped over her, replete, and listened to her breathe while the sounds of a ruckus in the suite next door floated through the wall. Not a ruckus exactly, just some headboard banging that made the pictures—all framed views of Atlantic City—vibrate against the wall.
Jenny didn’t seem to notice or chose to ignore the slight racket as she smiled up at him, the candle glow reflected in her eyes.
“That was quite a ride.” Her mussed hair only made her look sexier, like a wanton angel come to tempt him. “No wonder you love your job.”
IN THE SUITE next door, David Brady rode the petite brunette he’d chosen for tonight’s fun and found himself frustratingly distracted by thoughts of the little Miss Innocent he’d had drinks with earlier that night.
Jenny.
He didn’t usually like blondes, especially the naive variety, so he’d been all too happy to pass up on her charms in favor of someone more experienced.
Like Sasha, here.
“Oh please, don’t hurt me,” she cried out in mock fear over the noise of the black lacquer headboard rapping the wall behind it, her panting breaths coming even faster than his lightning-quick thrusts. “I’m so sorry I was a naughty girl.”
David knew Sasha the cocktail waitress wasn’t one bit sorry since she’d come twice already while she talked herself into a frenzy. He peered down at her upturned cheeks as he plowed into her from behind and wondered how to get the blonde out of his head long enough to enjoy his time with the saucy server who’d fondled him under the table tonight when Jenny had gotten up to powder her nose before their drinks arrived.
Really, how could he expect a novice like the De-Luxe proprietor to compete with the waitress who’d gotten inside his zipper in two seconds flat, all without anyone realizing what she was up to?
And yet…
Something about Jenny Moore had called to him. She obviously liked him more than he’d realized since there’d been a moment she looked totally distraught once he excused himself from their date. And that adoration appealed to him. Had he been too hasty in choosing the quick payoff over a woman that might have been more intriguing in the long run?
“Oh yes!” Sasha shouted, spreading herself wider for him, all while shifting his hand to her bottom and making not-so-veiled references to her need to be disciplined.
How did he end up with all the S and M junkies lately?
Not wanting to disappoint her, he trotted out a few stock “bad girl” phrases to keep her in the mood, his brain miles away from the sex that left him rock-hard even after two hours of antics with his energetic bed partner. He prided himself on being a skilled lover, enjoying the thrill that came with giving a woman everything she wanted until all she saw was him.
But tonight, for some reason, that wasn’t enough.
Maybe it was time for him to challenge his sexual prowess. Test his powers of seduction. Women like Sasha were so easy to please. There wasn’t the thrill of the chase the way there would be by courting an innocent like Jenny.
How would he strategize her seduction? She had some phobias. Fears.
Rolling Sasha to her side for a better angle, David thought maybe he could overcome Jenny’s fear of strange places by taking her someplace safe. Secluded. She’d feel more comfortable if she could simply concentrate on getting to know him. And he could discover all her sexual secrets, all the things that made her unravel.
Already the idea teased his imagination, tempted him out of this evening’s ennui so that he could enjoy the feel of Sasha around him.
Did it really matter that he had to envision Sasha as an innocent blonde instead of a sizzling, knowing brunette? The firebrand waitress would never know the difference. She was too busy staving off another orgasm.
Seizing any idea that would salvage the night for him, David reached for his discarded tie tangled up in the bed linens.
“Bad girls need discipline,” he reminded Sasha, sliding the silk around her eyes and knotting the ends behind her head. “I think you’re going to have to work a little harder to please me after the way you sent my date running tonight.”
“Very naughty of me, wasn’t it?” Sasha smiled. He could tell from the way the blindfold lifted on her ears, her cheekbones shifting with the movement.
She was sassy and full of herself, and David promised himself to give her everything she asked for and more. Right after he finished his daydream about satisfying Jenny Moore beyond her wildest dreams.
He needed an innocent in his life now that he’d finally found his rightful acceptance in his father’s world. And Jenny was a woman he could trust not to embarrass him at corporate functions and feel up his coworkers under the table when he wasn’t looking.
He couldn’t bring women like Sasha around Shore Engineers, not with know-it-all engineers like Devon Baines ready to steal away everything he’d worked so hard for since his father died. The thought of Devon, the protégé David’s father had fawned all over when he turned his back on David, made him thrust into Sasha a bit harder than he’d intended.
But she liked those kinds of games anyway, right? She’d forgive him.
His seed spilling in her tight passage, David shouted his fulfillment, but even that didn’t bring him as much pleasure as he’d hoped since the name on his lips wasn’t the sweaty waitress who had practically begged him to take her to his room. It was Jenny Moore with all the irrational fears and issues they’d talked about online for two months. He should have never given her over to Baines, thinking she’d annoy someone who prided himself on having his life so perfectly ordered.
No, David should have realized the sweet intensity a softer female could bring to his bed.
His cock bobbed responsively at the thought while Sasha recovered from their third go-round in the sack. Had she come that last time? He hated that he didn’t even know. But he was too busy dreaming up plans for winning back the woman who could help him secure his future as head of his father’s company despite the selfish old man’s wishes.
4
JENNY MOORE —Manhunter Extraordinaire.
She smiled to herself as she watched Devon move about the hotel room, picking up champagne glasses and straightening a couple pieces of furniture gone slightly askew in their frenzied need for one another. How delicious that he felt the need for order, this wild man who’d just spoiled her for sex with any other male. Gotta love that engineer attention to detail, especially when the details included every inch of her body.
Except that she wouldn’t love this man. She would simply pleasure herself—and him—with this red-hot chemistry they’d discovered until they were both too exhausted to move. And that’s what qualified her as a masterful manhunter. Even if she’d found this particular man by accident.
She’d still walked away with a blue-ribbon stud.
“You look pretty damn pleased with yourself, Ms. Moore,” he remarked as he scooped up their clothes and draped them over the back of the couch. “Are you thinking about what a sucker I am for garters?”
“I was thinking how good you look naked.” She’d never had a man in her life for long on an intimate level, and her couple of trial runs with guys who were more friends than lovers had been less than inspiring. So seeing vitally attractive Devon prowling around her suite was a luxurious treat foreign to the De-Luxe CEO, even though she was normally an expert on pleasure seeking.
What fascinated her now was the obvious interest he—all of him—paid to her compliment.
“You’re making it tough for me to give you any recovery time with that kind of talk.” He paused in his straightening long enough to check out the CDs she’d brought along. Pressing the random option, he stalked toward her as a Strauss selection hummed through the speakers.
“Who needs recovering?” Staring at him was giving her hot flashes, her whole body clamoring for more. “Tonight is a one-time indulgence for me so I’ve got to make the most of every second.”
“One-time?” Frowning, he stretched out over the bed, completely invading her personal space in an unmistakable message as he covered her. “Are you going back home tomorrow?”
“No.” Her breath caught in her throat to feel him on top of her, even with a sheet and a thin blanket in between them since she’d burrowed under the covers, less confident in her naked body than he seemed to be in his. Although judging by the way he’d touched and kissed her, maybe she didn’t have any reason to worry. “I’m here all week.”
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her the specifics about her reasons for staying in town. Baring her body had been enough of a step for her tonight without baring her soul, too. She didn’t know what he’d think of her agoraphobia, this man who lived for the next thrill. But she would rather not risk their heated connection with the mundane details of real life just yet.
“You’re here all week and you’re limiting this to a night?” He bent to swirl his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat. “I obviously didn’t do my job before if you can turn your back on us so fast.”
She swore she could feel the effects of his tongue the whole length of her body. Tremors of pleasure skimmed all over her skin as he slid under the blankets with her.
“Hey, what is this?” He paused to peer down at the hot pink bed sheets, then run an appreciative hand over the silky smooth finish.
“Egyptian cotton. Insanely high thread count.” She loved these sheets and had sent them ahead to the hotel to ensure her comfort and peace of mind.
And because the only way she could travel was to bring snippets of home with her to give her brain familiar things to focus on, like her music.
“You treat yourself well, don’t you? The gardenias, the candles, the sheets—none of it feels like a hotel room to me.”
“Some of us find our thrills closer to home.” Flipping back the sheet, she showed him the cashmere blanket she’d brought in her suitcase. Okay, her trunk. When you traveled with big issues and even bigger blankets, your bags tended to be on the large side.
“I’ll be damned.” He ran a palm over the soft blanket and his gaze narrowed. “You’re a hedonist.”
“Guilty.” Better he think that than know the whole truth. Besides, she did like to indulge herself.
Releasing the blanket, he straightened the sheets again and pulled her close. “Do you have any room in your life for things that aren’t all soft and smooth?”
He was ramrod hard against her, the heat of his skin practically singeing her.
“That can be pleasurable, too.” Her voice was whisper thin, her whole body molding around his, heat pooling between her legs.
He drew the sheets up over their heads, sealing out the world and consigning them to a hot pink tent. Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic or she’d be sprinting for the door. But the close quarters actually soothed her, narrowing the big, bad world down to just the two of them. The sound of their ragged breathing intensified in the muffled quiet, the music from the CD fading inside their refuge.
“I’m going to change your mind about one night,” he warned her, his head ducking to her neck where he kissed his way down her throat. “Tonight we can stay close to home, but before the week is out I’m going to take you down to the Steel Pier. There might not be a roller coaster, but maybe we can convince someone to crank up the Ferris wheel and stop us right at the top.”
Her heart paused for a two-count and then picked up speed at the thought.
“You wouldn’t be so wicked.” She’d have to psych herself up for days just to get back in her car for the drive home. The Steel Pier on a crowded Atlantic City boardwalk was out of the question for someone with her mental disposition.
“In the name of making your heart beat faster,” he traced his fingers over her right breast, “just like it is now, I’ll be as wicked as I please.”
She knew he’d probably run before then, as soon as he found out about her very large emotional baggage, but she couldn’t help savoring the idea of a risk she’d never take. Just because she wasn’t brave enough to put herself out there in new and potentially scary situations didn’t mean she didn’t dream about them. Fantasize that she could take chances and live on the edge the way Devon Baines did.
For now, that was enough.
She sank her fingers into his dark hair to steer his kisses lower. As long as they were playing games of self-indulgence and wickedness, she would show him exactly what she wanted.
His heated kisses had made her breasts ache for direct contact. When his mouth found her, nipping, licking, she threw her head back with the pleasure of it. She undulated beneath him, seeking the best angle, the most heat and pressure from his lips. But the more she satisfied the ache in her breasts, the greater the unrest building between her thighs. She craved his touch, and even more she craved his kiss.
There.
But she was not ready to be that wicked. Not yet. Perhaps if she demonstrated her want by example, tasting him the intimate way she wished to be tasted…
She explored his body with shaking fingers, her nervous system overloaded with sensory impulses and overwhelmed by sex. Devon’s back narrowed into his waist, rippled with unexpected male muscles along the way. His obvious strength surprised her for a man she imagined must work behind a desk with computers and—She didn’t begin to know what engineers worked with.
“I want to touch you.” She breathed her request into their haven, the sheets cloaking them in silky luxury.
“The feeling is mutual.” He licked a kiss into the dip of her navel and she flinched with the erotic feel of his tongue there. Swirling. Teasing.
A bolt of desire flashed white-hot to her core and she could almost imagine what it would feel like to receive his kiss right where she needed him most.
“But I want—” How to say it? Words evaporated from her head as he nipped a soft bite along her abs.
“I think I know what you want.” His dark promise sent her eyelids fluttering as she gave herself over to whatever he wanted to do.
He seemed so damn sure of himself, so much more at ease with the intimacy than she’d ever been, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to simply close her eyes and hang on tight. That’s what one did with the best rides, right?
And then he shifted lower still, his hands sliding beneath her thighs to spread her legs. When he huffed a breath of sultry warm air over her mound, she thought she’d fly apart then and there. The deep intimacy of the act combined with the fact that she’d completely exposed herself to him, sent tremors through her limbs.
Not unlike the moments before she hyperventilated.
In fact, her breathing grew quick and shallow as he slid his tongue along the seam of her, a pleasure so dizzying she thought she’d faint from it. He growled his affirmation, a primal, guttural sound that pulsed through her most delicate parts. The vibrations hummed inside her, heightening the sensation of his kiss and making her feminine muscles clench in response.