Icing on the Cake (Close to Home) (11 page)

“You’re kidding.”

Big, strong hands pulled her down until her bare core pressed against the hard bulge beneath his fly. Then he moved them both. Her, in a slow, back-and-forth motion. Him, in a rhythmic upward grind that hit her in exactly the right spot.

“Add.”

Holy shit, he was serious. And nuts if he truly thought he could go where no man and battery-operated toy combined had gone before.

“The number, troublemaker. Now.”

“It’s—” She curled her fingers into his tuxedo-covered shoulders. “It’s—” Her head lolled forward, their foreheads touching and breath mixing as the hum of impending release built between her legs. “Oh god, Curtis…”

“Keep saying my name, babe. Makes me hard as fucking steel when you say it.” His breath and voice filled her ears. Her head. Became her anchor in a sea of fireworks as she hit her peak.

She collapsed against his chest with his name on her lips, a whisper so soft he couldn’t possibly have heard it, or realized what it meant for her to say it.

He pressed his lips to her hair. Held that position and lightly stroked her legs and back while her breathing returned to normal.

She ought to move. Break the sweet intimacy of his lingering kiss and gentle touch. Tell him to get a condom on and fuck her, not cuddle her. Instead she closed her eyes and let the soft sweep of his hands take her to a completely different place. One she’d always avoided with men. Hell, with everybody.

“That’s two toward the new record, and I haven’t even gotten you properly naked yet.”

“Ego much?” She infused the question with a healthy amount of attitude, but in the secrecy of the darkness and the safety of his embrace, she allowed herself to smile.

“Nah, just rising to the challenge.”

“I can feel that,” she said, rocking against his lap.

The air around them charged. He growled and laid a firm smack against her bare behind, effectively ending the softness of the moment. “Time you coughed up the magic number.”

Maybe it was simply massive male pride pushing him to best her former lover and ever-reliable vibrator. Or it could be more.

Again with that stupid line of thinking. She shouldn’t give a shit
why
he wanted to make her come all night long. Only that he did. She pushed off his chest and looked into his eyes. “No point in telling you, you’ll never beat it.”

“There’s that word ‘never’ you seem to like so much. You don’t know me all that well yet, but by breakfast, I promise you’ll
never
question my ability to get the job done.”

“Oh, I’m a job now, lawman?”

“Yeah. And I’m a very hard worker.” The grin on his handsome face could have melted her panties—if he hadn’t already ripped them off.

“Two down,” she said, winking as she slid back to the passenger seat and opened the door. “Five to go.”

*

Curtis followed close behind as Sara walked to his hotel room door. He was tempted to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her so he could put his hand under her dress and get started on orgasm number three. That would’ve required he forfeit the view. He couldn’t get enough of watching her legs, especially in those high-heeled sandals. The straps around her ankles reminded him of restraints, and that sent his brain all kinds of places. Would she allow him to spread her legs, tie them to his bedframe and do as he wished to satisfy her naked, wide-open body?

She’d hinted at role-playing—maybe she’d pretend to fight him off and he’d restrain her anyway. He’d never gone that route with a woman. Too risky. With Sara, he could picture the scene so vividly, it could have been a memory of something they’d already done. And the image had his dick practically busting through his zipper. As if he hadn’t already been hard to the point of pain.

He wouldn’t go anywhere near there tonight. Not in some random hotel room during their first night together. That was something for down the road. Another time, in the sanctuary of his apartment. After they knew each other better.

He froze with the keycard in the lock. “Shit.” There’d be no ‘down the road’ with Sara. No fucking her as she lay tied to his bed, or any other way in his apartment. They had one night and this hotel room. She’d made that damn clear, and by not pushing the subject, he’d agreed.

Gorgeous amber eyes blinked up at him. “Need some help with that?”

He withdrew the perfectly operational keycard and handed it to her. “See if it works for you.” He stepped aside, giving her better access. Then stepped behind her, slid his hands under her dress and accessed something he had much more interest in unlocking.

The button on the door lit green. Sara turned the doorknob, quieting the buzzing, but that’s as far as she went.

“You want number three out here in the hall?” He eased the tips of two fingers inside her. “Because I can do that. You know by now that I can. But there’s a catch. Next time I make you come, I’ll be fucking you.”

Dirty talk and sexy threats obviously pushed her buttons, because her breath caught and she backed her ass against his groin.

“Ten seconds, babe. That’s how long you’ve got before I’m buried inside you, balls-deep.”

She leaned on the door and together they stumbled through the opening. The sound of steel thudding closed behind them could have been miles away, drowned out by the sound of mutual heavy breathing and urgent making out.

“Where the hell is the zipper?” He fumbled around blindly, unable to locate the thing he’d toyed with several times tonight. “Fuck it.” He grabbed the back of the dress in both fists and yanked. The crisp rip of fabric practically echoed in the room.

“About time,” she said, stepping free of the pink puddle.

Oh man, look at her.
The stockings and heels alone damn near did him in. Long, dark hair spilled over her shoulders, begging he wind it around his fist. A flesh-colored bra overflowed with more cleavage than a man could hope for on a woman with a waist that small. That’s what he touched first, cupping the middle of her hourglass shape with his palms. But he didn’t keep them there long.

He skated his fingertips over the sweet curves of her pinup-model hips, the flat plane of her stomach. He flicked the jeweled ends of her belly button piercings. “Never seen a double like this. Got any more?”

“Since you’ve seen almost all of me,” she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, “I assume you’re asking about these…”

“Jesus.” Yeah, he was officially, utterly, done for. He cupped her tits, brushed his thumbs over the horseshoe-shaped barbells adorning her dark-pink nipples. “Babe, your ten seconds are up.”

Tux, tie, shirt, pants and the rest—gone in a heartbeat. Before he could order her onto the bed, Sara went to her knees in front of him. She started at the bottom, tracing the patterns on his shins and calves, sending a thousand sparks shooting through his body as she worked her way up his thighs. She circled the base of his cock and drew her fist up his length.

What a fucking sight. Sara’s fair fingers with their long, pink-lacquered nails sliding up and down. She looked up, wide-eyed gaze moving over his body, heating his skin with the hunger she made no attempt to hide. And her mouth…so fucking close to the head of his cock.

“Are you going to fuck me, or do I have time to suck you first?”

Best question he ever heard. “Yeah, we can make time for that.”

“I thought you might feel that way.” She worked his crown with her tongue, and a throaty
mmm
rose as she lapped at the bead of pre-cum.

He closed his eyes as she took him in, one agonizingly slow inch at a time. He wanted to watch his cock disappear between her lips. Not a good idea if he wanted to last more than two minutes. And he planned to last a hell of a lot longer than that.

Lack of sight heightened the other senses, and that was almost as dangerous. The wet, sucking sounds as she fucked him with her mouth. Her moans—Jesus, her moans. The hot, tight pull around his dick.
All
of his dick, the tip of which hit the back of her throat over and over. And her hair, so fucking thick and soft around his fingers as he held the back of her head. So good. Too good.

He backed up before he lost the ability to do so. “My turn. On the bed and open wide for me.”

She moved across the small room in what seemed like slow, liquid motion. She crawled onto the bed, taunting him with that sexy, round ass and hips designed for him to grip as he pumped into her. His cock got impossibly harder, then harder still when she rolled onto her back and followed his instructions to the letter.

He looked away long enough to locate a couple condoms. “These’ll do for a start. He slid onto the bed so her knees hooked over his shoulders. “But first things first. Hope you’re comfortable, babe, ’cause I’m going to be down here awhile.”

“Take your time, lawman. I’ve got nowhere to be but orgasmic heaven.”

If that was a challenge, he was up for it. In every way. He started with a simple kiss. A single swipe with the tip of his tongue. One taste and his patience was shot. He sealed his mouth over her clit and went to fucking town. Sucking, licking, goddamn devouring her.

“You taste so fucking good.”

She answered by opening wider. An invitation he was happy to accept.

He slid a finger inside her. Then two, pushing his dick against the hotel mattress as her tight heat welcomed his touch. More. He needed more. All of her. He spread his fingers and nudged her ass with his pinky.

“Oh god, yes,” she said, tilting her hips to meet his probing finger.

He pushed deeper, sucked harder. Buried his entire face between her hot thighs and filled his lungs with her sweet fucking spice. Heat flared on his scalp as she grabbed the back of his head, holding him hard as she rocked against his mouth. He looked up, past her belly button piercings, over her incredible tits and nipples, to her face. Eyes closed, the sexiest soft moaning escaping her parted lips. So fucking hot.

“Holy shit,” she said as she caught her breath. “I’ve been imagining that since I first saw you in the church yesterday.”

“That makes two of us, troublemaker.”

“Want to know what else I imagined?” She wiggled free of him and rolled onto her hands and knees. Was either brave enough or foolish enough to shake her ass at him.

“That’s like taunting the bull with a red flag, babe.”

Sara being Sara, she smirked and shook it again.

A thousand miniature suns must be racing through his bloodstream, because he felt like he was going to explode. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he just might. All over the mattress.

He rolled on a condom and moved in behind her, gripping her hips like the fuck handles they were. Couldn’t say he hadn’t warned her. He pushed inside her, hard and fast.

She stretched out like a cat, ass tipped high and dark hair fanned over her back. Her fair face was in profile against the dark cover on the bed. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed. Gorgeous. And so fucking hot. He wanted to touch, taste and own every inch.

“Harder.”

Oh yeah, he could do that. “Touch yourself.” He withdrew and thrust, forcing a
whoosh
of air from her parted lips. “Want to feel you come around me.”

One hand disappeared between her legs. Her soft moan filled his head as she tightened, squeezing him with hot, wet heat. He pushed her down, one hand spanning her shoulders, the other curled into her soft, curvy flesh. Her hips jerked wildly, fighting his rhythm.

He stroked deeper. Fire threatened at the base of his cock. And when his name left her parted lips, he molded himself over her and let it fucking burn.

“That’s four,” she said as he nuzzled her sweet-smelling hair.

“Keep counting, babe.” He lifted his weight from her back and kissed his way down her spine, over the curves of her ass, and settled between her legs again. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Noise from the hotel hallway roused Curtis from a dreamless sleep. He didn’t need to look at the bedside clock to know it was too damn early for consciousness. His body had committed to a deep and meaningful union with the mattress, and he had no desire to sever that relationship.

Unfortunately, now that his brain had engaged, getting back to sleep would be a chore. One that might require some assistance from a certain dark-haired beauty. He’d tell her she owed him one for staying up all night to crush her former orgasm record. He snorted into the pillow. Yeah, he had a pretty good idea how Sara would respond to being told she
owed
him something. Now he definitely had to say it.

He swept his arm across the opposite side of the queen-size bed. And connected with nothing but rumpled sheets. Cool sheets, at that.

He rolled from his stomach to his back, then sat up to inspect the room. Curtains closed, bathroom door open. Current occupancy—one. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they zeroed in on the small pile of pink formerly known as Sara’s bridesmaid dress. Since this wasn’t the type of hotel to offer bathrobes to its guests, what the hell was she wearing when she walked out the door?

His gaze slid to the top of the dresser. Oh man, she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have. Wrong. This was Sara, a woman who’d proven repeatedly she’d do just about anything.

Now he was wide awake. He flung the sheets aside and lunged for the piece of furniture where he’d left his car keys. Not under anything. Not on the floor either. To be sure, he rifled through his jacket and pants pockets. Nada.

All the talking they’d done last night had meant jack shit to Sara. She’d come to his room for sex—which they’d had plenty of—then she’d cleared out like a thief in the night. Only it’d been dawn. And the thief had stolen his fucking car.

He pounded his fists against the dresser. The attached mirror rattled as the lock on the door buzzed.

“Come back later.” He barked the command at whatever member of the housekeeping staff stood on the other side of the door. “Wait ’til I check out, for god’s sake.”

He jerked his head in the direction of the door as it opened, and Sara froze mid-stride, takeout coffee cups in each hand.