A Little Wild (16 page)

That was all the encouragement he needed. In two steps, he breached the space between them, his hands curving around her upper arms as his mouth settled over hers. His lips exerted a light pressure, moving tenderly, even sweetly, and she relaxed beneath the gentle ministration.

Hah, this wasn’t so tough. And here, since their half-kiss at the coffeehouse, she’d thought she couldn’t survive another oral encounter without attacking him.

“Mmm.” The sultry moan issued from deep within his throat and rushed an intoxicating medley of sensations to her mouth. His lips parted, and her own with them.

No problem.
She could still deal.

His hands glided to her waist, coaxing her closer. Not wanting to come across like a wooden puppet, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

A mistake. The movement melded them pelvis to abdomen, Zach’s rigid erection—as thick as she’d imagined—pressing her tummy through her yoga pants.

What was worse, he seemed to interpret her embrace as an invitation. His hands cupped her butt, shifting her up, nearer, closer, until her mound nestled against his impressive bulge.

Worse yet, she couldn’t persuade herself to summon the will to resist him. She wanted more. She wanted him. Everything he could give her.

Reason scattered as her long-buried wild streak begged to surface.

As if deciphering her body’s responses was as natural to him as breathing, he dipped his tongue into her mouth. Dallied, withdrew, thrust deeper.

Brazen arousal spun through her, more molten and vibrant than she’d ever experienced. Her nipples rasped pleasurably against her bra, prompting images of his hands on her breasts, his fingers plucking the taut peaks, mouth sucking.

Desire and need plunged to her clit as she abandoned herself to the incredible sensations their mating mouths inspired.

To hell with blaming her lust for Zach Halliday on the inner nympho. This was her body. She was in charge of her pleasure.

Tess Sheridan was assuming control.

And taking what she wanted.

Chapter Ten

Moaning softly into his mouth, Tess raised on tiptoe, seeking increased contact there, where she craved him. His shoulder muscles bunched beneath her palms, and he lowered his hips to meet hers again. He fit them together as if they were horizontal.

Tension built in her clit. She pressed herself against his thick length. She breathed in his male heat, tasting his need for her on his tongue. Wanting, yearning, needing.

Needing him. Himhimhim.
Zach. Now. Yes.

Just once. That was all she asked. She was so tired of holding back. She wanted to live, to feel and experience. To put her mind and goals on the backburner for a few precious hours and luxuriate in what this sexy, thrilling man had to offer.

He slid a hand down her thigh and hooked her leg onto his hip. She didn’t resist. The toes of her left foot strained to touch the floor.

Supporting her rear with both hands, he lifted her. She curled her legs around his waist. Her right moccasin fell off.

Cradling her rear, he turned them. He propped her spine against the door—like in her office window fantasy, only the reality felt ten million times more amazing. With his big cock solid beneath his jeans, his hands caressing her ass, and his tongue delving into her mouth, pleasure stormed her body. Her clit pulsed and her labia thickened. Her juices soaked her panties.

He massaged her through the yoga pants. As his fingers stroked her wetness, he groaned.

He broke the kiss, muttering, “Couch.”

She nodded.

Her legs wrapped around him, he carried her to the sofa and laid her against the plump cushions. Wanting his mouth again, she unhooked her legs and reached for him.

“Shh,” he whispered.

Slipping a hand under her tank top, he cupped one breast. His fingers zeroed in on her nipple, and her breathing quickened. His other hand caressed her through her pants, his face so close their foreheads almost touched.

Yet, still he did not kiss her.

She lifted her lips to his.

With a teasing smile, he evaded her kiss. Hot desire gripped her.

“Kiss me, damn it,” she whispered. “Let me kiss you.”

She urged his head down. This time, he gave her what she wanted.

Their tongues thrust in a sensual rhythm as they kissed deeper and deeper. Her juices saturated her pants, and she tugged on the drawstring bow. Either Zach wasn’t as intelligent as she’d assumed or he was intent on torturing her—because he wouldn’t take the hint. She clasped his hand and struggled to move it toward her waistband, but he held fast. His fingers gripped her mound with erotic intensity. For an instant, she thought one might tear through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and enter her.

No such luck.

She pushed her hands between their bodies and unzipped his jeans. As she shoved down the denim, his naked erection filled her palms. Her pulse revved. He
did
have the largest cock she’d ever touched. Thick, long, hard.

And all for her.

She pumped her hand up and down his stiff length. Moisture seeped from the swollen head, and he moaned.

“God, Tess, you feel amazing.”

She pumped faster. “I want you inside me.
That
will feel amazing.”

“No condoms,” he mumbled.

She swore. “I don’t have any, either.” Celibacy had its shortcomings.

“It’s for the best.”

“Says who?”

He chuckled. “You did.”

Her breath caught. All right, maybe she had mentioned something along those lines. However, right now, while his fingers mercilessly teased her—

He grunted. “Get your hand off me, babe. Or I’ll come.”

“I want you to.”

He gazed down at her. “
I
don’t.”

Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her arms above her head on the couch. Her excitement soared. His hips rocked faster and faster as he fucked her outside her clothes. His cock slid back and forth, his pelvis grinding.

Rapturous spasms washed over her, and she came. As the last ripple pulsed through her, his hips stilled.

Her breathing slowed. She smoothed the soft cotton T-shirt covering his spine. “Zach, you can keep going. Tissues are on the end table.”

He shook his head. “If I climax, we’ll cross a line.”

“I want to cross it.”

“I believe you—now. But how will you feel tomorrow?” He released her wrists. Moving off the couch, he stood and tucked his erection inside his jeans. “I won’t be a regret for you, Tess. I can wait.” He zipped up.

She propped on her elbows. “For what?”

“Until you’re one hundred percent certain that sleeping with me is what you want. And, babe? That’s not a decision to make when you’ve just come.”

She bit her lip. He was right. Having sex with him would change everything, and consider what was at stake—the ethics her job demanded, the development of his business.

She’d come
so close
to doing what she wanted, forget the consequences. However, apparently Zach Halliday knew her better than she knew herself.

She forced a smile. “All I can say is you’re a hell of a kisser.”

He chuckled. “You, too.”

As she stood, her bare foot met hardwood. She tugged off the other moccasin and followed Zach to the door.

He picked up his briefcase. “Thanks for helping with the revisions.”

“You’re welcome.” They’d regressed to polite chitchat.
Awkward.

“I’ll expect a call about the lease arrangements.”

“And after I’ve filed the incorporation.”

“Great. Stay in touch.”

A quick goodbye, and he left. Tess leaned against the closed door.

What the hell had just happened? Zach had asked for one kiss, and she’d responded to the heat of his embrace as if she hadn’t been touched in a decade. She’d remained celibate for extended lengths of time before and not responded to her first openmouthed kiss with a man the way she had with Zach. Three years had elapsed between Kyle and Warren. Sure, she’d lusted after Warren in the beginning, but not like
this
.

Never, ever like this.

What did it mean that only Zach Halliday affected her so deeply?

She closed her eyes.
No.
She wouldn’t think about it, couldn’t bear to entertain the notion that she might be falling for him.

The answer was simple. Zach was different, because Zach was incredible. Surprising, tempting and amazingly sexy, he was the star of all her X-rated fantasies. For now and several months to come.

Picturing his talented mouth aroused her all over again. She’d probably burn up the sheets tonight, dreaming about him.

Had that been his intention? To prove their sexual compatibility, then leave her yearning for more?

She shoved off the door and ran her hands through her hair. He’d kept her on sensual tenterhooks throughout the afternoon with his teasing glances, innuendos and pure proximity, then had lured her into a mesmerizing dry hump that had left her desperate to feel him inside her.

All revved up and no Zach to share it with.

Just when Mr. G. Spot had run out of batteries, too.

Crud, no milk.

Shutting the fridge door, Chloe gazed at the Cheerios box on the counter of her tiny West End apartment. No tasty cereal for her on this lonely Sunday evening. She could snack on dry O’s, but after her mortifying experience with The Suit in Stanley Park this morning, she craved a massive, milk-sodden bowl of her favorite poor-me indulgence.

There was nothing to do but dash to the nearest grocer. Because not even phoning Tess and learning her friend was pursuing their bet had pulled Chloe out of her post-Suit-sighting funk. Running from him in Stanley Park had been beyond dumb. Chloe hadn’t been late for anything. She was just too chickenshit to talk to him, so she’d acted like a skittish schoolgirl.

The latter adjectives never applied to Chloe Nichols! Take-no-prisoners aggressive, that was her.

Except when it came to The Suit.

It was like she’d time-traveled back to grade five and Donnie McDowell had presented her with a homemade Valentine. She hadn’t spoken to the poor kid for three weeks afterward. The idea that the boy she’d loved might return her feelings had been too much for her eleven-year-old self to handle.

Was she really such an insecure mess beneath her wise-ass behavior?

Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator. Both the milk and the short walk to buy it would do her good.

Minutes later, she paid for her purchase at the grocer’s. As she left the store, the warm breeze flitted over her T-shirt and shorts. A splash of color in the sidewalk bins caught her eye, and she stopped to admire the beautiful mauve tulips. A man with curly dark hair studied the rose arrangements.

“Marco?” Two encounters with her old boyfriend in less than a week. Was the universe sending her a message?

Marco’s teeth flashed in the mellow evening sun. “Hi, Chloe. How’s it going?”

Like she’d tell him. He’d never believe her cowardice with The Suit. During their relationship,
she’d
been the hunter.

“Great,” she lied.

Gaze skeptical, he nodded at her armload. “What’s with the huge milk jug?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“You don’t drink milk unless you’re on a cereal binge. Must be guy trouble.”

She rolled out a brazen-sounding laugh. “You know me, Marco, I never have guy trouble.” Kind of hard to reach the trouble part when she lacked the basic ingredient of a guy.

“You sure? You helped me with Amy. I’d like to return the favor.”

“I don’t need advice. I’m not even dating right now.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.” He returned his attention to the roses.

Chloe shifted the milk jug to her other hip. Subject change! “Choosing flowers for her?”

“Yeah.” Contentment rimmed his Mediterranean features.

“How did things go the other day?”

“Amazing. I was honest, like you suggested. Explained the reason I’ve acted so distant lately had nothing to do with her. It was all me and my stupid fear of commitment. But tonight I’m telling her I love her. I think this is the real thing, Chloe.”

“I’m glad.” A strange sadness trickled through her.

He selected a small bouquet of red tea roses. “Red signifies love, right?”

“Yes, but roses are a common choice. Is Amy The One for you, Marco?”

“Definitely.”

“Then you have the rest of your lives to tell her how you feel with roses. This first time, try something unexpected.”

A thoughtful frown creased his handsome face. “Like what?”

“Amy is blonde and cheerful. Choose flowers that reflect her personality.”

He glanced at an adjacent bin. “At first my eye was drawn to these.”

An assortment of white, yellow and vibrantly hued gerbera daisies. “Perfect.”

“They’re not too ordinary? I want to make a good impression.”

“Buy Amy flowers that show her how much thought you put into choosing them and you’ll make a great impression, Marco. Count on it.”

He put back the roses and talked enthusiastically with his hands. “Yellow for the sunshine she brings into my life, white for her dazzling smile…and these…” His fingers brushed a packet of deep violet and fuchsia gerberas. “Amy wears bright dresses in similar colors.”

Chloe squeezed his hand. “Now you’ve got it.”

He selected two daisy packets and held them up beside his wide smile. “What do you say? Will she love me forever?”

Tears pricked Chloe’s eyes. Not because she still had a thing for Marco—her assertiveness and his traditional edge had equaled mondo relationship disaster—but because she suddenly knew he and Amy would make it.

“Oh yeah. Go get her, big guy.”

Marco ambled into the grocer’s to pay for the flowers, and Chloe rounded the corner to her apartment.

If
she
had any sense, she’d abandon her ridiculous no-dating oath and jump back into the game before all the good guys were taken.

“I think your father’s having an affair,” Tess’s mom said as the older woman placed two Santa Fe-patterned plates in the distressed-pine cupboard. Patrice Sheridan accepted a coffee cup from Jenna, who helped Tess dry dinner dishes while Randi washed.