Hardwired (The Hardwired Series) (Volume 1) (7 page)

“How about another drink?”

He hesitated. “Sure, but if you can’t walk by the end of the night, I’d rather that be because of me.”

Oh God.
The visions that his words invoked overtook my better judgment.

“How about a tour?” I said, barely able to utter the words.

“Of Las Vegas?” He raised his eyebrows.

I laughed. “How about we start with the suite.”

“Is that what you want?”

Something shifted in the air between us. My smile slipped when I saw the hunger burning in his eyes. My need to have his hands and mouth on me had become singular and overpowering, and I cared less about the repercussions of acting on that need with each passing moment.

I nodded silently and stood with him. Without delay he threaded my hand with his and guided us one by one through the massage rooms, butler pantries, and guest bathrooms as obscene as the price he must be paying for this place.

We wandered up a gold-railed staircase to the second floor and into the master bedroom, another corner room with floor-to-ceiling windows. He stopped at the doorway and I left him, walking to the edge of the room.

“I could get used to this view.”

“Me too,” he murmured.

He was close enough to touch me now, but he didn’t, playing this gentleman promise out to a maddening degree. In this tense middle ground, I waited for him, wanting him to set things in motion, but with each passing second the tension and the sexual energy between us became increasingly palpable.

I let out the breath I had been holding in.
Fuck it
.

Emboldened by the champagne, I found the sheer hem of my dress, collected the layers in a bunch. I pulled it over my head, leaving me bare-chested, clad only in my panties, heels, and liquid confidence. The glass cast back my reflection, and Blake came into view behind me. The heat of his body radiated onto mine, my skin already aflame, as much from my own self-consciousness as my growing desire.

He touched me then, his thumb blazing a trail down my spine, to the waistline of my panties. He skirted the edge of the lace to my side where he seized my hip in a firm grasp, pulling us together suddenly. My breath hitched at the sudden contact, panic laced with desire.

My head rolled back onto his shoulder, and I could feel desire winning. His lips began a path of sweet torment, tasting and nibbling my over-sensitive skin from my ear down my shoulder. One hand flexed at my hip while the other caught my breast. My flesh overflowed from his grasp, and my nipple hardened under his touch. My body was on fire for him. My senses inflamed, lust coursed through me until I was nearly blind with need.

“Tell me what you want, Erica.”

My mind rambled a string of silent pleas. I arched slightly, feeling his hard length straining against his jeans and into my backside. I covered his hands with my own. He stilled, releasing me so I could turn.

I stood and faced him, shameless and weak under his gaze. Now solidly green, his eyes smoldered, melting me from the inside out. Our bodies barely touched, and I ran a hand down his chest, slowing above his belt. God, he felt amazing, hard and warm. I lifted on my toes and pressed a shaky kiss to his lips, my mouth opening to his. He kissed me back eagerly but otherwise held back. His body tensed with restraint, barely reined in.

“I want you, Blake,” I whispered.

My knees weakened a little. He caught me up to him, stealing my breath with a kiss, urgent and warm. Reveling in the velvet strokes of his tongue, I blindly made my way down the buttons of his shirt, the hard curves of his abdomen tense beneath my fingers. I reached for the button of his jeans and unhooked it.

“I want this too.” I smirked.

Blake’s eyes widened a fraction. I gave his bottom lip a playful bite before kissing my way down his torso. His olive skin stretched tight over his muscles. Crisp light brown hairs dusted across his chest and down the center of his well-defined abs.

On my knees, I stared up at him. He was all I’d imagined and so much more. A prime specimen of a man. Beautiful. I traced the impressive outline of his cock before tugging his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to release him. When he sprang free, I held him in my hands. His flesh was hot on my own, burning with primal need. He sucked in a sharp breath as I circled him gently.

I was wet with anticipation, but as much as I ached for him, I needed to taste him first, to own him. I started shallow and soft, taking him farther and with more pressure until he cursed, driving his fingers through his hair. I pumped him with my hand while the other lay flat on his stomach, moving in time with his labored breaths.

“Erica, Christ. Come here, wait—”

He became inexorably harder, thicker. After a few deep strokes that hit the back of my throat, he cursed again, and I knew he was close.

Before I could finish him off, he hauled me to my feet looking like he’d past the limits of his control.

“My turn,” he said, his voice so raspy and raw, it almost sounded like a threat. He scooped me up into his arms and effortlessly tossed me onto the bed.

Blake stripped me of my lace panties and set his hands on my knees, coaxing them apart. I relaxed and he opened me, exposing me to him completely. Embarrassed and emboldened at once, I felt my cheeks heat.
 

He lowered to me and the sensation of his mouth between my legs overwhelmed everything.
 
I whimpered.

Sweet Jesus, he had a gifted mouth.

He tongued my wet, quivering sex with the expert skill that he’d used on my mouth, flicking and taunting and sucking.

He moaned, vibrating my clit as he sucked me. My walls clenched deliciously and I clutched at the silken fabrics beneath us.
 
The energy in my core climbed with an alarming speed.

“You taste so good, baby.”

The feeling of his breath on the sensitive tissues followed by the determined strokes of his tongue over the tight bundle of nerves pushed me over the edge. My mind left me and I came hard, letting the orgasm ripple through me.

My breathing was ragged as I tried to regain my senses. Under heavy eyelids, I watched him undress fully before me. Despite my very recent orgasm, my desire for Blake had barely waned. I ached for him, to have him inside, finishing what we’d begun.

Blake climbed onto the bed, and I panted softly, scorchingly aware of Blake’s approach. His cock bobbed gently, long, broad, and hard as stone. He rolled on a condom and the thick tight muscles of his thighs parted my legs around him. I hitched my leg high over his hip and arched, urging him into me eagerly.

He grasped me by the hip and stilled my effort. We were barely connected, the head of his penis notched at my entrance.

I whimpered his name, desperate for him. He bent to find my mouth, and our tastes mingled with the heady scent of my arousal. The act seemed too intimate, too raw under the circumstances, but heightened my already blinding need for him.

I struggled against his grasp, wild to have all of him. He loosened his hold and he pushed inside me. I uttered a small cry into his mouth, shocked at how completely he filled me. I relished the deliciousness of the sensation. Nothing felt more right than the achingly slow drive of his body into mine. My body stretched to accommodate him, and the bite of his entry soon gave way to a deeper hunger.

He moved in deliberate and measured strokes, filling me and holding back with painstaking pauses, rotating satisfaction with an impossible longing, each movement bringing me closer to the edge. The promise of release beckoned, but he kept me wanting more. He drove me crazy with need while he took my mouth in slow, deep kisses.

“Blake, please.” My voice cracked.

“Trust me,” he whispered into my ear.

He slowed his pace until I thought I would die of frustration. Then without warning, he grabbed my ass and drove hard into me. By the second punishing thrust I found my voice, though I barely recognized it when I screamed. Relentlessly he claimed new depths of my body, giving me everything I had damn near begged him for. And I took it all.

“Oh my God, Blake.” A storm raged inside of me, my body responding uncontrollably to his. I gripped his hair by the root and clung to him.

My climax pulsed through me. I clenched around him, my whole body shuddering as he became impossibly bigger, pounding out his own release in time with mine.

He collapsed onto his elbows above me, brushing soft kisses over my cheek and neck while my arms and legs tangled around him. Gradually our breathing slowed, our bodies cooled, and we returned to ourselves.

I sighed. “I didn’t know.”

He smiled and kissed me. “Know what?”

“That…it could be like that.”

His smile faded and his lips parted slightly as he ran his thumb over the curve of my cheekbone. My chest ached at his closeness and the wonder I thought I saw in his half-lidded eyes.

He gave me a chaste kiss and pulled away. He stood and disappeared into the en suite bathroom. I got a little thrill worshipping the back of him, his ass perfectly sculpted like every other delicious inch of him. Everything about Blake had become too much, an onslaught to my senses, a train barreling through my better judgment.

And I was loving every minute of it.

I woke up abruptly, disoriented until I recognized the hand-painted gold butterflies on the ceiling. Blake lay on his stomach next to me, snoring quietly into the pillow, his body soft and relaxed, a different picture from the muscle bound animal who had quite recently blown my mind. I must have dozed off while he showered, but he hadn’t bothered to wake me and send me on my way.

Still, I couldn’t be here when he woke up. I was completely blissed out, but the idea of facing the walk of shame in the daylight hours sobered me into action.

Ambient light filled the room but the desert sky before us was pitch black, save the frenetic city lights, with no hint of the impending dawn. I slid quietly out of the bed and dressed, though despite my best efforts, I could not find my panties anywhere. I put on my heels and stopped at the writing desk. I scribbled a note, setting the $10,000 chip on top of it.

What happens in Vegas...

x, E

I took in the skyline a minute longer, then left Blake’s suite without a sound.

* * *

I crept into our hotel room with impressive stealth, but Alli was propped up on a pillow watching TV when I entered.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” It was nearly two a.m.

“What are
you
doing up?” She pursed her lips.

“Uh, nothing.”

“You little slut. Tell me everything.” She muted the TV and sat up cross-legged on the edge of the bed.

“Not much to tell.” I shrugged and slipped out of my dress in favor of a robe.

“Don’t even start with me, Erica. Dish, now.” She pointed her manicured little finger at me.

I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed facing her. This morning I had berated her for the same thing. What a hypocrite.

“I’ll just say, if Heath is anything like his brother, um, in bed”—I stumbled over the words—“I forgive you, all right?”

“Shut up! Was it amazing?”

“There are no words. Now I just have to figure out how to stay the hell away from him.”

“Why? What do you mean?” A frown marred her brow at the mere suggestion.

“We had our moment, but I’m really hoping this is once and done for him, because...” I let my face fall into my hands, which still smelled like him. I breathed in his scent and let the memory of our night settle over me.

“Erica, what?”

I sat up abruptly, as if I’d been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to.

“You were telling me why you want this to stay a one-night-stand,” she reminded me.

“I don’t know!” I twisted my fingers in my lap. “I just know I could get addicted to that. To him.” I gestured to the ceiling, his general direction. I shook off the memories that felt too new, knowing Blake was still perfectly naked, slumbering a few floors away. “I’m a mess. I need to sleep.”

Alli nodded, but I caught a coy smile before she switched off the TV and turned over under her duvet.

Grateful for the reprieve, I retreated to the bathroom to shower. The intoxication of being with Blake tapered as the water thrummed my already weak muscles, draining the last of my waning energy. Already he meant too much A cloud of doubt crept over me.

* * *

I stepped out of the campus center with my mail when I heard my name. A girl with cropped blond hair ascended the steps to meet me. She looked like a teen model. Tan, tall, and impeccably dressed in a tank top and a linen skirt.

“Liz,” I said. “How are you?”

“Great. I can’t believe we’re finally done!”

“I know, time flies.” I shook my head in shared disbelief.

“Do you want to grab coffee? I’d love to catch up.”

Her warm brown eyes seemed genuine, but I had always avoided these moments. Our friendship had fizzled when I moved across campus after our freshman year together, and we had never really addressed it. I hesitated. School was over, no homework, no plans. I had no excuses.

“Sure.”

We walked a short distance to the closest cafe where some moody hipsters made us delicious overpriced cappuccinos. We sat at a table for two, the chaos of the cafe filling the silence between us. I’d seen Liz around campus here and again, but we hadn’t really
talked
in years. What was there to say? We barely knew each other anymore.

“Do you have any plans for the summer?” I asked.

“I’m going to Barcelona with my parents for a few weeks, and then I start work in July.”

“Where are you working?”

“At an investment firm here in the city, crunching numbers or whatever.” She blew steam off her cup. “What about you?”

“I actually started a fashion social network last summer and it’s been going pretty well, so I’m going to be running that for a while. We’ll see where it goes.”

“That’s amazing. I would have never expected that.”

I raised my eyebrows. What
would
you expect, I wondered, picking at the flaky crust of my chocolate croissant.