Get Lucky (6 page)

“You’re twice my size,” she gasped, trying to control her fit of giggles when he hauled her into her dark living room.

“Nonetheless, I’m unarmed so I must use what tactics I can to defend myself.”

Her zipper moved down her back, his knuckles brushing over her bare skin. London did her best to flip in his arms. When she did, her breasts smashing against all that roped muscle, her dress slid off her shoulders, no longer hugging her body but now feeling loose and baggy on her.

“That’s a crock.” She laughed, grabbing his shoulders so she wouldn’t slide down him. It was kind of nice being eye to eye with him. Not to mention, his muscular arms securing her against him and his hands cradling her ass was a turn-on she couldn’t ignore. “You’re using your size and body right now to win,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly the wall was behind her and Marc was pressed against her. His blue eyes turned dark, like a sky right before a storm explodes. London would drown in those eyes, in his powerful, incredibly handsome face. His grin was as appealing as his serious expression, and she should be scared.

Terrified. She should be more than scared. Marc was a guest, a man staying at the Elk Ski Lodge who would be out of her life as fast as he came in. Once again she would be alone, working day and night to avoid the bitter attack of loneliness. As much as these thoughts hit her hard, it was damn impossible to get them to sink in when his face was so close to hers. His body touched her everywhere. He was so near her she could almost taste him—almost. London could definitely feel him, especially his rock-hard cock that grew by the second and began throbbing against her pelvis.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse, “trust me, your body is a much better weapon than mine.”

When his expression turned serious something inside her quickened, causing her to hold her breath when he met her gaze.

“I’m not a player,” he said slowly. “I don’t like getting hurt and won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Good to know,” she said, her mouth all of a sudden so dry she could barely get the words out.

“If you don’t want this, now would be a good time to tell me to stop.” His focus dropped to her lips as he spoke.

“That’s hardly fair.” Again it was hard to get the words out. Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re putting the responsibility on me.”

“You’re definitely the stronger right now,” he whispered, dropping his mouth to her collarbone, where he started nibbling.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

He was performing some kind of magic. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind. London had strict rules. She’d never had a problem sticking to them. Other men at the lodge had asked her out. She’d received gifts before. As she let her head fall back, the hard, smooth wall pressed against the back of her head while Marc continued licking and nipping at the base of her neck. She couldn’t get her brain to wrap around why saying no to Marc proved impossible.

His mouth moved to hers and she received him with as much excitement as he offered. It was weird. Kissing Marc was like reuniting with an old friend. London wasn’t a virgin, but she had kept her serious admirers at bay for several years now. Once or twice she’d agreed to a date with a local man, spending an evening with him and almost always seeming to come home without having sex. At the moment, though, it didn’t make sense to her that she always said no.

Her body screamed for release. The pressure building inside her was almost painful. Her pussy was so soaked she could feel the moisture pooling against her freshly shaved flesh. Her skin tingled, and fireworks kept snapping in her brain.

“Are we going to do this?” Marc moved his lips over hers as he asked.

“It looks that way.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought one leg up, pulling him closer.

Marc lifted her into his arms, picking her up as if she didn’t weigh a thing. “Where is your bedroom?”

She waved a hand in the air, which were the worse directions ever. Marc apparently understood them, though, and walked through her living room to the small hallway that led to her bedroom and bathroom. There wasn’t much to her house, but he was still impressed. When he placed her on her bed, her dress slipped down her shoulders, trapping her arms. She wouldn’t be able to move until she got out of it.

“Wait,” she said when he started crawling over her.

For a second it seemed the moment would turn awkward. But when London went on her knees in the middle of her double bed and started dragging her dress up her thighs, Marc stood and began undressing. She hurried to yank the thing off her, wanting to see all that brawn appear as he stripped.

London didn’t mess with her bra and underpants but instead remained on her knees, watching as first his shirt fell to the floor and next his jeans. My God! Her mouth was no longer too dry. Instead she was sure she would start drooling. Muscles rippled and bulged everywhere. There wasn’t a man anywhere who could compare with this vision of perfection. Eye candy be damned! Marc King fell into a category of one when it came to ultimate sex appeal.

“You’re going to torture me, aren’t you?” Marc asked, completely naked when he climbed onto her bed.

London didn’t understand the question and wasn’t sure she could answer if she did. His cock was thick and long and as hard as the rest of him. It protruded from his body, looking as if it tried stretching to reach her before the rest of him did.

“All of this lace is keeping me from the parts of you I’ve been fantasizing about all week,” he growled, slipping his finger under her bra strap and dragging it down her shoulder.

She understood and grinned, relaxing on her back and stretching her legs, then sliding them up his thighs. “You don’t like them?” she asked, running her fingers over each well-defined muscle in his arms. Roped muscle twitched under her fingertips. He was more than aroused and not as in control as he wanted her to think.

“Sweetheart, I love how they look on you.” He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her.

He took his time with the kiss, too. London rubbed his arms, feeling him tremble as he held himself over her. She pressed her legs against his thighs. Body hair tickled her and brought her to a feverish state. The more she touched him, the more her skin became oversensitized.

As she slowly learned his body, he made love to her mouth. Every time they kissed it was even hotter than the time before. She loved his mouth, the skills he possessed, the way his tongue danced around hers. When she was sure he’d push her over the edge just by kissing her, he moved his mouth, placing kisses on her cheek, her jaw, and then down her neck.

Marc eased her bra straps off her shoulders and moved the lace cups from her breasts. He raked his teeth over a nipple. She swelled with eager anticipation as sparks of need shot down her middle until her pussy was just as swollen and hungry for his attention.

London arched into him. She cried out when he latched onto her other nipple. He took her on a ride so exhilarating, so incredibly perfect, she damn near floated off the bed.

In spite of his size, he eased his body over hers, never putting too much weight on her, and shifted his weight without her moving. Marc leaned on one arm, now simply adoring her body, and dragged his fingers down her middle until he cupped her pussy. London jerked, coming off the bed. Her underwear was still on yet he almost made her come, again, with his skilled fingers and meticulous attention.

“I want to learn every inch of you,” he said, taking his time easing his fingers under her lace underwear. “I want to know which parts make you moan and which push you over the edge.”

London had thought the splurge a good one when she’d bought the matching bra and undies. Now she quietly cursed them because he took his time, enjoying the material and coaxing it down her body. She wanted her underwear gone, wanted him inside her. When she tilted her head, meeting his gaze, her look must have told him as much.

Marc’s slow smile simply added more oxygen to the flames already burning fiercely inside her. “The torture will be worth it. I promise. We’re going to explode together.”

“Who’s tortured?” she whispered, her voice raspy. She narrowed her gaze on him when his grin broadened. If he thought he would drag her into a state of erotic bliss where he would control her and make her beg for release, he would soon learn differently.

“My dear,” he began.

London rolled to her side, facing him, and reached between them. She couldn’t stop herself from hissing in a breath when she wrapped her fingers around his thick, long cock. He was really large. But as well, she also proved he wasn’t in as much control as he professed, which gave her odd pleasure.

Marc’s eyes rolled as he bit his lower lip. “London,” he hissed, dragging her name out and then making a sound in his throat that wasn’t quite a growl and was almost as deadly sounding as a male cat purring.

She switched her attention from his face to his cock in her hand, stroking and squeezing. His body stiffened as he grabbed her arm, almost pinching her skin. It was as if he needed to hold on, which was right where she wanted him, where he’d had her a moment before.

There was incredible pleasure in taking control. The pressure inside her continued tormenting her, but it was accompanied with intense satisfaction as she watched him grit his teeth and tilt his head back.

London almost laughed when he damn near pounced off the bed, throwing her to her back and coming over her.

“Hold on,” he groaned, leaving her there and sliding off the bed.

She was pretty sure she’d never seen a man make such quick work of pulling a condom out of his pants pocket and sheathing himself with it.

“You’re thoughtful,” she said.

“As long as you don’t think it presumptuous.” His sheathed cock danced at her entrance, teasing the crap out of her.

“Not at all,” she whispered, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

When Marc slid inside her London swore fireworks exploded. He filled and stretched her, his size a perfect fit. London moved underneath him, allowing him deeper access. Marc hit that spot and it took her over the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Perfect,” he groaned, running kisses down the side of her face while building momentum.

Marc had skills that added to his growing list of qualities. London took all he had, coming again and again, knowing she’d gone way too long without really good sex. And to think this man had been around her all week. When they finally exploded, both of them coming at the same time, there wasn’t any doubt in her mind she would want to do this again, and soon.

*   *   *

In spite of how sated Marc was, spending the night with London was probably pushing it more than they should. He wanted to see her again, be with her again, and have sex daily with her, if not more. Why the hell did the perfect woman for him have to be halfway across the country from where he lived?

“Want to take a shower?” he asked, keeping her with him when he rolled to his back.

“You can take a shower.” She sounded so sated. “You’ll see why when you go into my bathroom. I doubt it’s big enough for both of us.”

Again, he wouldn’t push. Although when he entered the bathroom he had to agree with her. Maybe she would have showered with him if she’d had a larger tub and shower. As it was, he had to duck in order to get the shower spray to hit his head.

He reminded himself this was a vacation. He would return to L.A. sooner than he wanted to think. They would be smart to take it slow, not spend so much time together that they’d get too attached. It would be easy to do with this woman. London did something to him. Marc didn’t want to hurt her when he left. And he didn’t want to get hurt.

Odd, in all the relationships he’d had over the years, Marc had never worried about getting hurt himself.

“Late-night munchies?” London asked when he found her in her kitchen.

Her hair was more tousled than he’d ever seen it and she wore pajama bottom pants and a tank top that hugged her slender body. London shoved hair over her shoulder as she held up a cookie.

“I’m completely satisfied in every way,” he told her, bending over to kiss the top of her head. “What are you doing this weekend?”

Marc hadn’t planned on asking her out again tonight. If they weren’t going to get too involved, they were better off flirting when they saw each other at the lodge and simply hooking up every now and then for sex. It was a perfect plan except he didn’t want to wait until Monday to see her again. And he didn’t want to wait that long before he fucked her again.

“Working,” she told him, standing and plopping the rest of her cookie into her mouth.

“I thought you said you worked Monday through Friday.”

“I do. Technically I have two jobs. It’s a separate business that hires me to do the tours. On Saturdays and Sundays I usually do several of them.”

“No wonder you’re in such incredible shape,” he said, pulling her against him and kissing her.

“What’s your excuse?” She searched his face as she asked, dragging her fingers over his chest lazily.

“Being an oversized brute runs in the family,” he told her, knowing he was still dodging her question as to what he did for a living. It was force of habit, and often smarter if no one knew he was a bounty hunter.

“Your father and brother are as big as you are?” She looked surprised.

“Yup.”

“Is your mother really big, too?” she asked.

“Nope. She’s about your size.” He grinned at her stunned expression. “Believe me, she runs the fort. Size isn’t everything, sweetheart.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, grinning, and leaned into him for another kiss.

It sounded like a compliment, so he decided to take it as one and not press the issue by asking her to elaborate. London walked him to the door and didn’t say anything when he unlocked the dead bolt.

“Hopefully I’ll see you sometime over this weekend,” he said, pushing open her screen door and stepping out on her front porch.

“I’m sure you will.” She hugged herself when she stepped outside with him.

He would have scolded her for coming out in the frigid cold when she barely wore anything. She’d done it to him. But selfishly, he wanted one more minute with her. More than likely the sooner he got away from her, spent his time doing something else, the quicker the intense feelings plaguing him right now would fade.

Marc glanced down, enjoying how her tank top didn’t quite reach her pajama bottoms. Her bare tummy was flat and hard. Her nipples puckered against her tank top. And my God, all that thick black hair toppling over her shoulders and down her back added to a picture of perfection. It was on his lips to tell her how beautiful she was.

“It was a perfect night,” he said instead, figuring that summed up about everything. Something on her porch floor caught his eye and he started for it.

London noticed it at the same time and moved faster, squatting down and grabbing a small package.

“I don’t remember that being there when I got here,” He tried looking at it, but London almost threw it into her house.

“I’m sure it was,” she said hastily, again wrapping her arms around her chest but this time scowling at the floor. “I don’t have the best mailman in the world.”

“Are you sure?” Marc looked around, spotting her mailbox attached to the side of her porch. It was definitely large enough to hold a package that size. He remembered her with a similar package her co-worker Meryl had brought her. “Do you want to see what it is?”

London’s gaze was definitely guarded, if not haunted, when she met his. “I will. You better get going,” she added, obviously unwilling to open it with him there. “Please be careful driving back.”

“All right.” He studied her a moment longer before forcing himself to quit trying to analyze something that was probably nothing. Stepping into her, he kissed her, then hurried down the stairs, waving over his shoulder. “See you soon!” he called out.