Emma Holly (20 page)

He winked at Charity, mimicking shooting a gun a little lower than people usually did. When Sylvia failed to move, he dragged her out by the arm.

"Why does he care?" the masseuse hissed on the way. "It's not as if either of
us
can watch what's recorded in the system. Charity needs someone to look out for her."

Charity didn't listen for Maurice's answer or spare one ounce of worry for Sylvia's concerns. She knew she was safer with Eric than anyone. Her gaze was magnetized to him as he locked the door. The shape of his back was a classic muscled wedge, his legs as graceful as a running back's. Best of all, he had the strongest butt she'd ever seen.

"What's this about?" she asked as he turned around. "Why are you here?"

His chest rose and fell twice before he could speak. "We have an hour."

"An hour?"

"An hour to do whatever we want without witnesses."

"Oh," she said, his words not quite getting through her haze of lust. She couldn't stop ogling him up and down. She wasn't sure a man should be allowed to have sexy knees.

"I won it," he explained. "Because I made B.G. come first."

Her body understood a second before her brain, going hot and liquid. Her involuntary quiver made her sway in the chains. "
Oh
," she said. "Please come kiss me then."

He came to her in three long strides, clasping her against him harness and all. Flattened by the tight embrace, his cock pressed her belly like a rod of living steel.

"I want you," he said between desperate kisses. "I don't think I can wait to get you out of this."

"Don't get me out of it. Pull me right onto you."

He'd tasted so good she had to kiss him herself. He moaned, then cursed, but the harness moved enough to swing her legs around his waist. In spite of both their impatience, she had to laugh. The height the restraints held her at might be perfect, but her arms were sticking out like a scarecrow's.

"Okay," he said, echoing her grin. "Maybe I have to undo you a bit."

She purred as soon as she was able to plunge her fingers in his thick, warm hair. A second later, a tilt of her hips put her where she wished.

He jerked as his burning tip met her opening. "You're really wet."

"Well, I was watching, big guy. You and B.G. were hot."

She could tell he liked hearing this. "God," he said, his hands tightening on her bottom between the straps. She thought he would kiss her, but instead his forehead bumped hers. "Look down at us, Charity.

Watch me go in."

A hot flash swept her body as she did. He was barely in her, the edge of his crown swelling just outside.

His veins were dark and distended on the thickness of his shaft, moving visibly with his pulse. Her body tightened and then relaxed as if it couldn't wait for him to push inside her. She'd never seen a man this hard. She was so excited she could hardly speak.

"Wow," she managed to breathe. "I'm kinda guessing this will be fast."

"Yes." He set his jaw and shoved halfway in. Charity gasped at the sense of fullness. "Can't do it any other way."

His growl of entry was true music to her ears. Wanting to ease him more than she wanted her own release, she tightened her legs and took the rest of him. They shuddered in unison when he pressed home.

The connection felt incredibly good, but there was no way he could stay as he was for long. Sure enough, a heartbeat later, his grip shifted on her hips.

"Hold on," he said, easing her carefully up his length. "I know I can't last. Just let me… take what I need, and I'll get you next."

But, for her,
next
was now. She was as primed as she'd ever been in her life, as soft and wet and on the aching edge. He didn't rush the way she expected. With
amazing
deliberation, he drove inside her: deep, soft blows, perfectly aimed to tantalize every part of her sex—and likely every part of his.

"Boy," he gasped. "Sweetheart. Yes. Tighten on me like that."

She couldn't warn him. She had no breath. But six thrusts had her coming, or maybe it was the sexy rumble in his chest that did the trick. When he felt her stiffen, that was it for him. Cut loose from any need to control himself, he went wild and pumped. The chains clashed furiously together above their heads.

"Yes," he cried. "Now, Char, ah—"

He sucked in a breath like he'd been burned, coming in bursts hard enough
to
shake his frame. The only sound he made was a forceful exhalation, but he did it again and again, counting out the throes of release.

The final breath was long and silent.

"Charity," he sighed, his knees tottering.

He braced and heaved her up, making her gasp, but he was only slipping some crucial loop off the harness's main hook. The apparatus was arranged so that this released the tension in the other straps, allowing her weight to be lowered
to
the floor. This Eric did, following her down without once slipping from her body's hold.

She'd barely settled against the marble before he began to move between her legs.

"Mm," he said, as hard as most men would have been for their first go. "Yes, put your knees up by my ribs."

She could tell he was easier despite his hardness, enjoying the journey rather than racing desperately toward its end. She rocked in time with him, matching him thrust for thrust. He was tall for her, but somehow they seemed to fit. He made them fit, pushing up on his arms so he could bend his gaze to hers.

He smiled every time her hands played along his back.

Their rhythm rolled like it was oiled.

"You are so pretty," he said. "I love the way your face telegraphs everything you like."

"I love the way you do everything I like."

He laughed softly and dipped to kiss her, a dizzying suck and draw of tongues. The sound had her flushing and newly wet. When he rose straight-armed again, his biceps bulging, he shifted his angle to catch a more sensitive pressure spot.

"Show off," she teased with a definite hitch in her breath.

His response could only be called preening.

She let him finish on his own this time, the matter settled with a raised eyebrow on his part and an urging

nod on hers. She was glad he didn't insist on her going first, because she savored every second: watching his face go dark, feeling him tense, seeing his eyes grow heavy with sensation and then squeeze shut.

This is trust
, she thought.
This is nakedness
.

He moved off her when he was done but not very far, propping his head on one hand while the other stroked her hair from her face. As his fingers trailed over her breast, the curve of his mouth was fond.

"You know I'm going to make certain you get yours."

It wasn't a question, but she reassured him anyway. "I do. From what I've seen, your sense of fairness is highly evolved."

He toyed with the buckle that cinched her thigh. "Are you ready to get out of this?"

"Yes. I'm thinking the straps might get tangled when I'm on top."

"What makes you think I'll let you on top?"

Clearly joking, he undid her bonds good humoredly. When the last was free, she pushed him back and crouched over him like a cat about to pounce. His storm-gray eyes glowed up at her, not the least offended by being caged. She knew it wouldn't be long before he stirred again.

"You relax," she instructed, her fingertips gliding down his sweaty chest. "I'm going to explore all your not-so-little secrets until you feel more yourself."

"Good plan," he said, then stretched from tip to toe like he was the one who'd been released from bondage.

Some
time later, a shrill, repeated ringing brought Charity's head an inch off Eric's fuzzy chest.

"If that's your cell phone," she said, her voice slurred from extreme satiation, "I don't want to know where you've been hiding it."

Eric laughed and helped her off him. She had to admire his ability to rise. She could only sprawl on the pleasantly cool black floor. Even more impressive, he strode to the panel where Maurice had shut off the camera. This time, she got a better look at what the soundproofing slid aside to reveal. When she did, she had to suppress a snort. The complicated touchscreen looked like something out of a James Bond film.

Fortunately, the missiles in this adventure were a lot more fun.

Eric bent closer to see what the computer said. "It's Mosswood's communication system. An outside caller. Someone's trying to reach me."

"I could have told you that," she said, one arm slung lazily over her eyes. "I'm ashamed to admit I didn't tell anyone I was here."

His quick inhalation told her this surprised him, but he didn't scold. With all the background checking he'd done, he must have known she didn't have the kind of friends who could do much to help her if she got into hot water.

"Call someone," he said with a touching seriousness. "If only to water your plants. You can let them know where you are without breaking your agreement. In the meantime, B.G. can arrange to have your calls forwarded. He's got a service that takes messages. No one expects you to be completely cut off."

He smiled down at her where she lay, obviously felled by his sensual expertise. "Since you're out of camera range, do me a favor and don't sit up."

This wasn't a problem. The best Charity could manage was rolling onto her side to watch.

When Eric pressed a control, the screen flicked to life with the image of a woman in an expensive Ann Taylor suit. Its understated khaki green brought out the red in her sleek cropped hair. Her makeup was just as subtle, and just as flattering. The only jewelry she wore was a string of pearls. Charity was willing to bet they came from real oysters.

Despite the tension that gripped her neck, she didn't have much chance to be jealous. One look at the woman's face said she and Eric were related.

"Good Lord," were the first words out of the woman's mouth. "What happened to your shirt?"

"And
hello
to you, too, Sis," Eric muttered under his breath.

"Don't mumble," she said. "This is an important call."

"I'm shirtless," he enunciated, "because you called me unannounced."

Her perfectly put-together face frowned at the camera. She seemed to be peering at his surroundings suspiciously. "Is this line secure? I need to speak to you privately."

Eric sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. "This better be good, Dana. You are currently interrupting the best sixty minutes of my life."

"It's two-thirty on a Wednesday!"

"Your point being?"

"For goodness sake, Eric. Can't you keep it zipped at all?"

The way Eric balled his hands tempted Charity to squirm across the floor and comfort him.

Clearly struggling for control, he uncurled his fingers and pressed one palm to the spot between his chest and gut. "I assume you really do want to talk to me and aren't trying to make me hang up."

"Call me back," his sister said sharply. "At work. When you're alone."

She cut off the signal without a good-bye.

"Hm," said Charity, trying to sound light. "I'm sensing a bit of sibling rivalry."

"Try sibling infuriation, and you'll have it right. Fuck. I wanted our last ten minutes."

His expression was flatteringly close to a sulk. Charity put her hands out, letting him help her up. The smart thing then seemed to be to hug him. She was right because he immediately put his cheek in her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I really should call her back. Dana may be rude, but it probably is important. B.G.'s switchboard makes everyone jump through hoops to get through."

"That's okay. I'm not sure I could have moved again anyway."

"You wouldn't have had to. I was enjoying just lying there."

She smiled at that, and he tilted her head for a kiss.

"Later," he said. "I promise."

She waggled her fingers in parting, but her mood had already dropped. She'd heard those words many times before. Only rarely had they been true. If that weren't bad enough, Eric had exactly the sort of sister she most dreaded, the sort of sister who viewed girls like her as sweater lint—not hideous, exactly, but definitely an embarrassment to be plucked off.