Bad in Bed (4 page)

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Authors: Faye Avalon

BOOK: Bad in Bed
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He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“I’m not very good at this.”

He drew her back against the car door, his
hands firm on her shoulders. “You seem to be doing okay so far.” His kiss was
tentative at first, and any residual doubts she might still harbor vanished
beneath the warmth of his lips on hers. He slid his hands along her collarbone
and down to her breasts.

Amber gasped into his mouth as he cupped her
and squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing across her hardened nipples. As her
blood heated and red hot need pulsed through her body, she settled her hands at
his waist then reached down and brushed her fingers over the bulge in his
trousers.

 
“Fuck.”

His whispered curse made her smile against his
mouth, her confidence growing at the way his breath caught. “Wasn’t that the
general idea?” She moved her hand slowly up and down the hard length of his
erection, resisting his attempt to pull her hand away.

His low groan gave her ridiculous pleasure and
she increased the pressure of her hand.

“You keep doing that, green eyes, and I’m going
to come in my pants right here in the street.” His low tone sounded sexy as it
echoed off the silence of the cobbled street.

Amber kept up the delicious friction, enjoying
the way he jerked against her hand and the way his hips ground into hers. She
was desperately wet and opened her legs when he shoved his hand up her skirt.

It was her turn to moan as his hand clamped
over her mound.

“Christ. You’re drenched.” He dropped his
forehead to hers and dragged in breath. “Not going to make it.”

Before Amber could react, he grabbed the wrist
that was currently working his erection and pulled her a few feet down the
street and into a deep shop doorway. Pushing her back against the wall, he
placed his hands on either side of her hips. “I want my hands all over you.
Every fucking inch.”

With her flesh on fire, her insides about to
explode, Amber reached her hands to his shoulders as he pushed against her and
kissed her with such need she felt her knees buckle. She had to wrap her arms
around his neck to stop from melting to the ground.

His hands slid to her thighs and air brushed
over her flesh as he pushed up her skirt. The moan that escaped her seemed to drive
him on. He hooked his fingers beneath the side strap of her panties and started
to tug them down. With a groan, he pulled his mouth from hers and knelt to yank
the silk down her legs. She stepped out.

Oh hell, he was going to fuck her right here in
a shop doorway. Some part of her brain warned that this was insane, that things
like this didn’t happen to careful, practical, steady Amber Green. Women like
her didn’t allow themselves to be fucked in a shop doorway on a quiet
Brighton
side street. Except it
was
happening and she was loving every delicious, erotic moment.

 
Ethan
yanked up her skirt until it was around her waist and the cool evening air
whispered over her heated flesh. “Open your legs,” he said huskily as he pushed
his knee between them. “Let me touch you.”

 
She
wobbled a little, grabbing on tighter to his shoulders as she spread her legs.

He caught his hand behind the back of her knee
and pulled her leg up until her knee dug into the side of his waist. With his
free hand, he cupped her pussy. “Wet,” he ground out. “Hot. Exactly as I
imagined.”

 
Amber
opened her mouth to say yes, oh bloody hell yes, when he eased a finger inside
her. She moaned, closed her eyes, and dropped her head back against the wall.

 
He
kissed her neck, his teeth grazing against her heated skin as he pushed another
finger inside her. “I can feel your muscles move against me,” he growled,
pulling his fingers out before driving them into her again. “Will it be the
same when my cock is inside you?”

 
“Yes,”
she gasped. “Yes.”

 
He
upped the pace, his fingers driving inside her deeper and deeper with each
thrust.

Amber felt the heady pull of climax.

 
“Come
for me,” he demanded as he continued the relentless thrust of his fingers. “Let
me feel you against my hand, against my fingers.”

 
The
climax ripped like a blade, shattering every semblance of sanity she tried to
grasp. She clung to him, let him take her mouth as relentlessly as his fingers
took her pussy. Spent, she sank back against the wall, her leg sliding down his
body, but he held her tight, keeping her positioned where he wanted her.

 
She
opened her eyes, glimpsed him through the blur. His eyes were hooded,
dangerous. She felt a little thrill at having been the cause of the lust
darkening their heady depths.

 
Slowly,
he withdrew his fingers, and with his eyes fastened to hers brought them slowly
to his lips. Opening his mouth, he sucked one finger. “You taste good.” Then
the other. “I want more of you. Much more.”

His smile turned almost feral, and Amber felt
no respite in the sharp quickening of her pulse. He took hold of her hand and
drew it down to his trousers. “Unzip me.”

 
Amber
reached down, her fingers so desperate to touch him she could hardly pop the
button of his slacks. Her fingers brushed his hard abs and she felt his muscles
clench beneath her feather-light touch.

 
Slowly,
she slipped his zipper down and his erection sprang free. She’d expected he’d
wear boxers or something, but there he was in all his fabulous glory. Reaching
out, she brushed her fingers along his length, smiling when he hardened further
beneath her hand and groaned his pleasure.

 
He
released his hold on her knee and reached into his trouser pocket. Slipping on
a condom, he pulled her knee up tight to his side again.

She felt the nudge of his cock against her and
closed her eyes. She was so wet, so hot, she wondered briefly where all this
sexual desire had been hiding. She’d never once felt like this with Trevor. Not
even close.

 
Ethan
pushed the tip of his cock against her sex, sucked in a breath, and plunged
inside her.

Amber gasped, gripping his shirt for something
to hold on to as need drove her senses into turmoil.

Ethan eased back a little, then drove hard
inside her again. His fingers dug into her knee as he began to pump. “You’re
tight. Beautiful and tight.”

 
Amber
held on to him for dear life as he thrust into her. The rhythm was fast and
hard. No mercy. She loved it.

 
Incredibly, she felt herself nearing climax again. How was it possible?
She’d never had a climax when Trevor was inside her. How was it that she was
near now? She had no more time to question it, because she came hard and fast
seconds before Ethan spurted into the condom.

 
He
slumped against her, driving her back against the wall. “Shit,” he growled
against her throat. “Shit.”

 
Amber
couldn’t say anything. She was incapable of speech right then.

After a few moments, he reached his hands to
either side of her face, kissed her, and then pulled slowly out of her. “Amber?”

 
“Hmm?”
For the first time in her life she felt as if she’d been well and truly
serviced. She smiled at the thought, marveling at how she could have gone her
whole adult life without being fucked so fabulously.

 
She
watched as he bent down and retrieved her panties, her eyes widening when he
stuffed them into his pocket.

 
As she
started pulling her dress down, he caught her hands. He stared down at her,
then reached his hand out to cup her mound. “You’re beautiful,” he said in a
husky tone. “I want you again and again.”

A feeling of power shuddered through her.
Feminine, sexual power. It was heady and so welcome she wanted to wiggle her
hips in a triumphant dance. She flipped an imaginary middle finger at Trevor,
her lips curling into a smile as she looked at the desire still burning in
Ethan’s eyes.

For a few seconds her smile wavered as Trevor’s
taunt pushed into the periphery of her thoughts, yet Ethan had said he wanted
her, again and again, which meant she can’t have been that bad. That made it
one up to her in the scheme of things, but Ethan’s enthusiasm was fair enough
when weighed against a quickie in a dark shop doorway. What would he think when
her clothes were off and he was faced with the naked truth of who she was, or
rather how she looked?
Too late now
,
she thought as she pulled the edges of her bolero together. She’d come too far
along the path of liberation to throw in the towel.

“Let’s forget about Papa Niko’s,” Ethan said,
breaking into her thoughts. “There are things I want to do to you and they
can’t wait.”

Since the feeling was mutual, she nodded. She
couldn’t believe how much she wanted him and hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be
one huge mistake. She’d soon find out.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Ethan wondered how he had gone from fucking
Amber in a shop doorway to inviting her back to his place. He never invited
women to his place.

Usually, they went to the woman’s place or to
Marco’s. Marco had no problem letting him use his spare bedroom despite ragging
him about his utilitarian tendencies and lack of romantic spirit. But Marco
understood that memories of Ethan’s childhood still had the power to bite him
unexpectedly. The sanctuary of his home had become, if you like, his comfort
blanket. Safe and pure.

Yet here he was inviting Amber back, wanting
her there,
wanting
her in
his
bed. He had to be insane. Okay, she
was smart and sexy, nothing especially unusual in the women he fucked, but not
once had he considered violating the shelter of his home by issuing such an
invitation.

Problem was, he’d been lusting after Amber too
damn long before doing anything about it. For the best part of a week he’d
watched and waited for her to arrive at her office each morning. He would have
waited each night for her to leave if she hadn’t been a workaholic and remained
there well after the rest of the place emptied. Security might have picked him
up as some crazy stalker. It would have been difficult to argue he was still
carrying out refurbishment of the company’s elevator installation as the sun
went down. Shit. It had been hard enough convincing the guys who worked for him
that he, the owner of the bloody company, took such an interest in an average contract
that he turned up there every morning to supervise proceedings.

Brooding a little, Ethan kept his distance from
Amber as he led the way up the half dozen stone steps to his Regency townhouse
in one of
Brighton
’s most sought-after areas.
The sense of pride he usually enjoyed at people’s first reaction to his home
was overshadowed by his brood, and he only nodded at Amber’s “it’s lovely,”
comment.

He was careful not to touch her as he unlocked
the door and stood back to let her enter. Like most of his visitors, she
glanced around the spacious entrance hall, with its high ceilings and white
painted wood paneling. A huge chandelier sparkled little diamonds of pattern
and color on the ceiling as Ethan turned on the light.

“It’s beautiful,” Amber said as she continued
to peruse the space. “How long have you lived here?”

“Almost a year. I’ve restored the main parts of
the house, but there’s still a whole lot left to do.”

As she examined the abstract paintings by local
artists adorning the walls, Ethan put his keys on the hall bureau before
slipping his hands into his pockets. When his hand touched damp silk, he
remembered the panties he’d stuffed into his pocket and pulled out his hand as
if the material scorched him.
 

He must have made a sound, because Amber turned
away from the paintings and looked at him. From her questioning gaze, it
appeared she found his physical distance as bizarre as he did, seeing as all
evening he’d found it impossible to keep his hands off her. Shit. He’d been
inside her, for pity’s sake. Yet here he was acting as if touching her was
tantamount to signing his own death warrant.

He needed a drink. He needed a fucking brain
transplant. “Can I get you something? A nightcap?”

She clutched her bag like a lifejacket in
turbulent seas, all the time looking up at him from beneath long, dark
eyelashes. Perhaps she’d picked up on his diminishing enthusiasm to have her
here in his home. “Maybe just coffee. I’m driving.”

He offered up thanks that she’d insisted on
following him in her car and his spirits rose with the knowledge she didn’t
intend staying long. Maybe, like him, she was simply in the market for another
quickie.

Should that be the case then,
Halleluiah!
The solution to his dilemma
was simple enough. Fuck her, then send her home. Effortless damage control.
Give her a good time, send her off with a smile on her face.

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