Angel in Armani (6 page)

His cock was free and she hated the lack of light that meant she couldn’t see it clearly.

But the weather gods weren’t cooperating and there was no sudden flash of lightning to show her the way; nor was there a sudden return of the electric lights. So touch it would have to be. Touch and … wait, yes. There was a whole other sense to be indulged.

Taste.

The thought settled into her head. Of setting her mouth to his skin and finding out what he tasted like. It made her throat dry and she froze for a moment, the mental image blanking out her senses.

“Sara?”

The question was just loud enough to jolt her back to action. She shifted herself backward on his legs so she could get a better angle to explore him.

“Everything okay?” Lucas asked.

She nodded, then realized that he might not be able to see that response. “Everything’s just fine,” she said and wondered who it was exactly who was talking with that husky edge to her voice. “Just admiring the view.”

“Do helicopter pilots get superpowers then? Can you see in the dark after all?”

“No, but I do have excellent night vision,” she said. “And I’ve been told that I have very good hands.” She let her fingers drift then, one hand making an arc up his hip and across his stomach before trailing down to trace a circle around the very tip of him, which earned her another of those very pleasing noises. Really, sound was an underrated sense. She laid the flat of her hand over him then curled her fingers around him.

His skin here was even hotter, and the warmth combined with the smooth-over-hard texture of him made a little gasp escape her throat.

He felt extraordinary.

Even in the darkness where she could only dimly see the gorgeous face, her body was reacting to him like he was 100 percent whatever the Sara equivalent of catnip was.

She touched him gently, exploring, and then—unable to resist any longer—she bent her head and let her tongue follow the path of her fingers.

This time the noise he made was deep and urgent. His hands came down, fingers twining in her hair. And his hips flexed up.

Liked that, did he?

Well, so did she. She licked again and slipped her hand around him before taking him into her mouth fully.

Heat and salt and darkness. Lucas groaned again and his hands came down onto her head. She didn’t need any more encouragement to keep doing what she was doing.

Slide. Taste. Tease.

His skin hot against her tongue, his muscles flexing against her legs, tightening with every glide of her mouth. She let her world narrow to the taste and feel of him, the sound of his breath getting harsher, the noises he made.

Everything else blurred and disappeared. There was just Lucas and just the answering heat blooming over her own skin knowing that he was reacting this way to her.

Just her.

His breath came faster and his hips flexed up again and then she heard him say, “Wait.”

She stopped, lifted her head. “Something wrong?”

“Very far from wrong,” he said, and she could hear the kind of dazed pleasure she was feeling in the depth of his voice. “But I want a turn.”

That made her shiver. Touching him was one thing. But the thought of those hands and that mouth and … “What happened to lady’s choice?” she said.

“You woke up my inner caveman,” he said.

She laughed. The thought of the always immaculate Lucas Angelo having an inner caveman was kind of hilarious. Until she pictured him wearing not much more than a strategically placed loincloth. Her hand ran along the length of his torso, feeling the muscles there. Maybe there was some caveman after all.

“And what happens if your inner caveman doesn’t get his way?” she asked.

“If not getting his way means you keep doing what you were just doing, then I think I can reconcile him to it,” Lucas said. “He’ll lie back and take it. But he’d prefer if you let him do his thing for a while.” He lifted himself up and shifted them effortlessly so he was sitting up while she was still sitting across his lap. And then he kissed her.

Fiercely enough to make her forget what she was doing at all.

“If it helps,” he said, pulling his head back. “Just remember that my inner caveman comes attached to an outer doctor.” He grinned at her, the expression a flash of white teeth and a just visible rapid change of the planes of his face. “An outer doctor who has spent a lot of time studying anatomy.”

He slipped a hand between them and flicked open the button of her waistband—damn it, why was she still wearing her trousers—then slid his fingers between the fabric and her skin, and down between her legs. He found her clit with no trouble at all. Heat spiked through her.

“So I see,” she managed.

Another stroke. “Is that a yes?” His lips pressed against the curve where her neck joined her shoulder, and she shuddered.

“Hell, yes.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” he said.

“I like your hands,” she gasped as he pressed again.

“This will be easier if we’re both naked,” he said and suddenly she found herself lying on her back with him above her. Her trousers and underwear vanished like magic.

“Do they teach you that in med school as well?” she asked. “Or are you just naturally talented?”

He laughed but then bent and pressed his lips to her torso, where the arches of her rib cage met. His tongue flicked against her skin and she shivered as a nerve she didn’t know she had went live with a force she felt deep in her stomach.

“I’m going with naturally talented.”

He lifted his head. “I also take direction well.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

He pressed another kiss, this one a little lower, then stopped again. “Feel free to try it out.” He slipped a hand under her thigh, coaxed her to drape a leg across his back as his mouth moved a few inches lower.

Good Lord, the man was trying to kill her. “Right now, you’re doing okay.”

“Really? No—” Kiss. Lick. “—needs you want to—” Kiss. Lick. Nibble.

Oh Lord. Who knew that teeth pressing oh so carefully into her hip bone could feel so good?

“—tell me about?” he continued. He wriggled a little lower and pressed a kiss to her thigh. Her stomach clenched as her body throbbed. She wanted to feel his mouth right where it was hottest. And apparently all she had to do was ask.

Her head fell back as her face heated. Thank God for darkness. In the darkness, maybe she could be the sort of woman that asked a man to go down on her. After all, her body had thrown her brain under a bus way back when she’d first touched him. So maybe she just had to let it take over completely.

She licked her lips, felt his lips drag across her inner thigh again. Swallowed hard. “I want your mouth on me,” she said. It was half a whisper, which thankfully sounded much more man-eating sexy than she was.

“Hell, yes,” he whispered back, and then his head moved and his hands coaxed her legs wider and then his tongue slipped across her clit. And set to work.

God.

She really was going to catch on fire.

He hadn’t been boasting, and he knew what the hell he was doing. Each stroke drove her deeper into the swirl of heat and sensation and oh-so-damn-good-she-couldn’t-think. She might have moaned. Someone moaned, anyway.

She couldn’t keep track of who. Couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but lie there and let him set every last inch of her on fire with his clever tongue and talented fingers. Until she had her fingers buried in his dark hair and was calling out his name as she came.

Lucas stayed where he was a moment or two then pressed a final kiss and rolled away. She heard a crinkle of foil but was still too floaty and buzzed to think much more than
Oh good, condom
.

When she finally managed to catch her breath and a thread of sanity, he was poised above her, his cock pressed hard against her, sending off a second mini shock wave.

The fuzziness receded as hunger for him took over. “Star pupil,” she said, twining her arms around his neck. “What’s your next trick?”

“This,” he said and buried himself inside her with one long slow thrust.

Lucas Angelo is inside me
, she thought for one wild minute, and then he bent to kiss her and started to move and once again all rational thought fled. Her legs wrapped around him, hooking above those slow driving hips, pulling him closer. Closer still.

She wanted to crawl inside him. Or have him crawl deeper still inside her, she wasn’t sure which.

Just knew that she wanted to stay here a very long time, riding the dark with Lucas and maybe never, ever leaving this bed again.

“Lucas,” she said and he kissed her again. Deep sure kisses that matched the rhythm they’d settled on. Kisses that felt both new and familiar, like she’d spent a long time kissing him in her dreams, or a prior life, or something that meant that she knew the taste and feel of him and felt like he knew her, too.

Each thrust stole her breath and each kiss gave it back to her. And the pressure started to build again and she started to move more fiercely beneath him, arching and retreating, closer and … “More,” she whispered. “More…”

It grew faster then. And deeper. Wilder. She wanted to tell him something but try as she might she couldn’t gather her thoughts to figure out exactly what. “More,” she managed again until more was suddenly too much and she dissolved again and spiraled away into pleasure.

*   *   *

It took her a moment to figure out exactly where she was. And what had woken her. Then she heard it again. The buzzing. Her phone doing a little vibrating tango under her pillow.

She rolled over and realized she was naked. And that there was a naked man beside her. Lucas Angelo.

It all flooded back. All that sex. They hadn’t been able to stop touching each other. Which resulted in all that very good sex, which, as she remembered, made her body buzz as happily as her phone.

The phone.

Damn. Who was calling her at whatever ridiculous hour this was? Surely it was too early for Viv to be checking on her? She reached out and grabbed the phone off the bedside table and peered at the time. Five a.m.

Too early.

But Ellen—and it was apparently Ellen unless her caller ID was lying to her—wouldn’t be calling her if it wasn’t important.

She slipped out of bed, holding her breath, hoping that Lucas wouldn’t wake because really, how to deal with the very hot guy who’d given her several memorable orgasms during the night when they’d agreed this was just for one night was not something she was ready to figure out.

So she would deal with the more immediate problem and then come back to that one.

She reached the tiny bathroom with a few cautious, silent steps and, closing the door carefully behind her, tapped the screen to answer the call as she pulled one of the skimpy towels off the rail to wrap herself in.

“Ellen?” she asked quietly.

“Sara? Is that you? I can’t hear you very well.” Ellen’s voice sounded rough. Tired.

Worry gripped Sara’s stomach but she wasn’t going to shout and wake up Lucas. “The line is bad,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Ellen said bluntly. “It’s not. Sweetie, you have to come back. The storm—well, your helo got damaged.”

“Damaged?” Sara’s voice rose. “What do you mean?”

“Just come back,” Ellen said. “Where are you anyway? Manhattan? That’s what your note said.”

“No, we didn’t make it all the way back. There was a tree down. Blocking the road. I’m in some motel about an hour away from you.”

“Then turn around and come back,” Ellen said. “You need to deal with this.” She hung up and Sara sat down on the cold tiled floor, legs suddenly weak with panic.

Her helo.

What had happened to it? She couldn’t run Charles Air without a helo. Her dad had put their other helicopter out of commission in his accident, and his medical bills were doing a good job of eating up the payout from the insurance company, so they hadn’t been able to replace his helo.

She’d told herself that she would get ahead of things by the time he was back in the air and they needed two helicopters again, but so far she was only going backward.

Shattered legs, it turned out, cost a lot of money to fix. Even more when you got infections in the pins and other complications. Her dad, apparently, didn’t believe in doing things the easy way. Even now, when he had been out of hospital for months, the physical therapy bills were killer. Especially when he seemed to have stopped making progress.

If the A-Star was out of action, too, they were toast. Because she doubted the insurance company would be keen to pay out again to them. The deductible alone would be massive. And the way their cash flow was currently dwindling, renting a replacement wasn’t going to be an option, either. She needed a healthy customer base to cover rent on a helo—assuming she could find somebody willing to rent her one—and her operating costs. Right now, the only way to describe her customer base was “in need of intensive care.” Possibly about to flatline.

And she had just slept with one of her few customers. She put her head down and pressed her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t swear out loud.

Lucas.

Out there in the bed, sleeping the sleep of the well-satisfied male. Or of a doctor who’d learned to sleep hard when he got a chance. She’d learned that skill herself in the army.

Oh God. Lucas.

Lucas who had a
car
.

She stared down at the phone. Just after five. She couldn’t hear rain anymore—so she assumed the weather had settled down—but who knew if the road was clear?

So there was no guarantee that he would be able to make it back to Manhattan on the road. He must already be cutting it fine.

It was a rationalization and she knew it. It wasn’t even a very good rationalization. But she had to get back to Ellen and see what had happened to the A-Star. The sooner she could start the processes of getting whatever needed fixing fixed and lodging any insurance claim, the sooner she could get back in the air. And every minute counted because without it, Charles Air was going to be history.

Which might just kill her dad.