Admit One (32 page)

She stood there, her eyes on his, looking slightly lost in his jacket. But the expression on her face was anything but lost. She looked… certain. Aroused.

Willing.

His pulse leapt, but he felt that at this point it was best to let her come to him. To allow her to make the first move. So he tucked his hands into his pockets, assuming a casual stance that belied the animal inside him straining against the leash.

They watched each other across the expanse of hardwood floor until everything else in the room seemed to fade – the fallback of almost every lighting technician or cinematographer to let the audience know that the two people involved had eyes only for each other.

But they didn’t need camera tricks to make that happen. He really could see only her.

Allie began to move toward him.

He waited, and though it took all his willpower, he did not reach for her. Even when she stood mere inches from him, looking up at his face with visible desire, he kept his hands to himself.

“I’d… like to take this wet dress off,” she finally said.

“Do you require assistance?”

When she nodded, Mason slid his hands from his pockets, eased his jacket from her shoulders, never taking his eyes off of hers.

“Turn,” he murmured and when she did, he stared at the exposed skin of her back for a moment before slowly lowering the zipper.

Funny that he’d been in such a hurry that he’d essentially sprinted to the room, but now that they were here, now that they were touching, his impatience seemed to have fled. The leashed animal was still there, but it was biding its time. He’d been afraid that he would wind up pushing her up against the door, taking her right there, but – while that idea held considerable appeal, and he hoped to get to it later – for now he was content to take things slow.

More than content, actually. He was… drenched in her. He wanted to savor.

When the zipper gave way, revealing the round curve of her cheeks, the lacy edge of her knickers, Mason slid his fingers just under the lace – a teasing brush – before easing the wide straps off of her shoulders.

The dress fell to the floor in a sodden plop, and Allie shivered.

“Cold?”

She hesitated, and then glanced at him over her shoulder. “No.”

A beat passed. Two.

“Turn ,” he said again.

After a pause in which he wasn’t certain as to whether she would or not, she drew another shuddering breath and then turned around.

Her eyes, when she met his gaze this time, held just the tiniest bit of uncertainty.

“No walls,” he whispered, and she raised her chin, then nodded.

“No walls,” she agreed.

Mason smiled, and then leaned back so that he could better look at her body. He took his time, running his eyes over every inch of exposed flesh. Her breasts weren’t large – nothing about her was – but they were full and round. Much like her bum. And while her legs were far from the longest he’d seen, they were exceptionally shapely.

He wanted to toss her onto the bed, spread them, and plunge into her wet heat.

But he again locked down his baser desires so that this wouldn’t be over in a matter of minutes.

His perusal ended with her feet, and he tilted his head to examine her shoes. “When we were in the lobby, I imagined you wearing those along with my jacket and nothing else.”

“Should I put the jacket back on?”

His gaze rose back to meet hers. “Later.” He stretched out a finger, ran it lightly around one of her nipples, watching as it hardened into a tight bud. Allie sucked in a breath, following the progress of his finger as it slid down her breast, along her stomach, and finally hooked the edge of the lace knickers that were her only covering.

She closed her eyes.

Mason took her chin between the forefinger and thumb of his other hand. “Look at me.”

She did, slowly raising her lids, though the blue of her eyes appeared cloudy, almost drugged.

“I’m about to burst into flames as it is,” she told him. “Looking at you while you touch me is like pouring on gasoline.”

He smiled, amused that her analogy was so similar to his own. “Good.” They could burst into flame together.

“I want to see you, too,” she whispered.

Mason spread his arms, a wordless invitation for her to undress him. “Quid pro quo,” he said.

Allie sucked in her bottom lip, nearly destroying his resolve, but he held himself still as she stepped forward.

The sight of her delicate hands unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers causing pinpricks of heat where they brushed against his skin, convinced him that she was indeed accurate. Watching while she touched him was like pouring on gasoline.

“The first time I saw you,” Allie said as she freed the last button. “You were shirtless, sweaty, muscles rippling as you helped Tucker move a piece of furniture.” She glanced up, her smile rueful. “I dropped my water bottle on Will’s foot.”

“Ah yes,” he said. “I remember the day well. I endeared your brother to me by mistaking you for his daughter.”

Her hands stilled. “His daughter?”

“Well, you were peeking from behind a curtain,” he explained. “And you are rather small.”

She fisted a hand on her hip. “Seriously?”

The snap of fire in her blue eyes positively delighted Mason. “Small,” he repeated. “But nicely rounded.” He slid a hand around to squeeze her bum. “In all the right places.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to irritate me so that I won’t be nervous?”

“Perhaps I’m injecting levity so that I won’t rip off your knickers, bend you over that chair and have my wicked way with you.”

Her mouth formed a little
o
of surprise. Then she looked at the chair, bit the corner of her lip, and when she turned back to Mason, raised her brows.

“Well, I’m afraid that does it,” Mason said, toeing off his shoes, shrugging out of his shirt and attacking his belt simultaneously.

“What?” Allie said, eyes wide.

“Don’t play innocent, you little temptress.”

He finally reached for her, but he was slightly off balance because his feet were still tangled in his pants, and he missed her as she ducked away.

“This chair?” she said, standing behind it.

“You might as well get acquainted with it,” Mason agreed, kicking off his trousers.

Allie laughed, but then her eyes dropped to where he was forming a very noticeable tent in his boxers. And widened.

“You might as well get acquainted with that, also.”

Her gaze shot back up to his.

Then her lips quirked. “Please tell me you don’t have a nickname that you’d like me to call it, like Killer or Babe Ruth.”

That made him pause. “Babe Ruth?”

“You know. Home run record?”

Mason laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a deep belly laugh that caused him to bend over. “Only in America,” he finally said.

“Sorry. I should have said
King George,
although considering we pretty much whooped up on him during the Revolution, I’m not sure about the connotations.”

He stood back up, and they eyed each other over the chair. “You know,” he said. “The chair sounds appealing, as does the shower, the floor, the counter in the loo, and up against the wall. But this first time,” he said, extending his hand. “I’d like to make love with you in a bed.”

Allie came from behind the chair, took his outstretched hand, her eyes never leaving his. “I should take my shoes off.”

“Allow me.” He boosted her up onto the high bed, ran his hands down the outside of her legs until they reached the buckles on her straps. Watching her, always watching her, he knelt down, pressed his lips to the inside of her ankle before he slid the shoe from her foot, then did the same thing with its mate. Slowly, he kissed his way up the insides of her legs, pausing to pay more attention to the sensitive area behind the knees, working his way toward her center. Allie gasped, but he was pleased that she didn’t shy away or try to stop him when he licked her through the lace.

“These are lovely,” he said as he eased her knickers down “but they’ll look much better on the floor.”

Her head dropped back, and she collapsed onto her elbows, easing her thighs further apart to allow him better access.

Triumph surged, a sort of primal male response to having his female pliant beneath him. The scent of her arousal, the taste of it on his tongue made coherent thought difficult.

“I want to do that to you,” he heard her say through the roaring in his ears.

Mason looked up, saw her watching him, her cheeks flushed with desire, her blue eyes looking drugged, but determined.

“I’m afraid I won’t last if you do,” he told her honestly.

“Just for a minute. And besides, we have all night.”

Mason nearly groaned. “Yes, but –”

“Please.”

“Well, how’s a gentleman to refuse?”

Mason climbed to his feet. Allie scooted forward, then slid her hands inside the elastic of his boxers, running her palms over his cheeks as she eased the material down. His cock sprang free, positively eager for an introduction, and Mason fisted his hands so that he didn’t grab her hair and bring her head down.

He closed his eyes, mindless with pleasure when she brought her head down on her own.

“Unnnh,” was all he was able to manage by way of comment, a sort of guttural moan. And though he tried to think of something… anything else to keep himself from climaxing, he could feel the warning tingle at the back of his spine.

“Allison.” He didn’t even recognize his own voice. He did grab her hair then, to ease her away, and the sight of her mouth, wet and rosy, was almost more than he could take. “I can’t wait any longer.”

He strode to where he’d stowed his luggage, dug out the box of condoms. Thank God he’d had the foresight to put them right on top.

He ripped one open, rolled it on with more speed than he’d previously deemed possible.

When he turned around, Allie was on all fours on the bed, pushing the decorative pillows onto the floor as she pulled down the spread.

Mason ran a hand over his face and pushed the image of doing her just like that right out of his head.

Next time.

Right now, he wanted to see her face.

She turned, saw him watching her and to his delight, crooked her finger.

Mason wasted no time.

He crawled over her, sliding his hand into her damp hair so that he could bring their lips together, ravaging her mouth with kisses in a way that promised what he’d soon do to her body. He worked his way down to her breasts, plumping first one and then the other as he suckled, then lower. He eased a finger inside her.

Hot. Wet.

Mason couldn’t withstand it any longer.

He plunged.

Allie cried out and he eased back, just a little. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, met his concerned gaze. “No. Don’t stop. Please.”

Difficult to argue with that request.

Mason gritted his teeth, tried at first to keep his thrusts gentle, but the way Allie’s hips rose to meet them, the way her nails dug into his shoulders, then scraped down his back, washed his mind clear of thought until his body was moving purely on instinct. The last threads holding the animal in check finally gave way. He hooked an arm beneath one of her knees, pushing her legs wider so that each movement of his hips sent him deeper.

He was… lost, was all he could think. Lost in her.

And dear God, he didn’t want to be found.

The warning tingle started again, and Mason knew there was no stopping it this time. Reaching between them, he rubbed her with his thumb. Allison fisted her hands in the sheets, arched her back and with a sharp cry, started convulsing around him.

Mason lasted no more than two desperate thrusts.

When it was over, when he finally came back to himself, he realized that he was squashing her into the mattress.

He rolled over, though it took effort. His limbs felt like rubber.

“The only downside I can see,” Allie croaked out after a moment. “Is that I’m probably going to be kicking myself for not jumping you last year.”

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” he opened one eye to tell her “that your confession didn’t involve the word
cute.”

“I think it’s been expunged from my vocabulary.”

He smiled, and Allie reached out to push at a lock of hair that had fallen from his ponytail.

He took her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm.

“I like it when you do that,” she admitted. “Kiss my hand.” One side of her lovely, kiss-swollen mouth quirked up. “It’s one of those swoon-inducing moves that actually works.”

Funny, Mason hadn’t consciously realized he was doing it.

“Well then.” He nibbled on her fingers. “I shall make a note to do it more often.”

The rain pattered gently outside the open doors, but the air felt soft, and just a little cool. Mason was… content, he realized. No, more than content. He was happy.