Indecent Suggestion (12 page)

And slipped into the car beside her, closing the door behind himself.

“Wow,” he said as he leaned back against the broad seat and took in his surroundings. “This is incredible. Now
this
is a car. Can you imagine sitting in the back of one of these babies?”

She smiled. “Um, we don’t have to imagine it, Turner. We
are
sitting in the back seat of one of these babies.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, can you imagine sitting in the back of one of these babies while a gorgeous chauffeur takes care of your every need?”

Oh, yeah. That was just the opening she’d been waiting for.

“You don’t have to imagine that, either, Turner,” she said
softly, reaching toward him. “Because although I’m no chauffeur, I know how to drive a man. And I’m about to take care of your every need….”

T
URNER JERKED HIS HEAD
around to look at Becca, certain he must have misunderstood what she’d just said. Or, at least, what she meant by what she’d just said. Hell, he’d found a sexual innuendo in almost every word she’d spoken during the past week. But even in the scant light of the moon filtering through the car’s windows, he could see that she looked very much the way she’d looked before, on those occasions when she’d gotten him all worked up just to tell him they’d be making a terrible mistake to take things where she’d so clearly intended to take them.

Not. Again.

“Becca, don’t,” he said adamantly, wanting to nip this thing in the bud—though, granted, that was kind of a painful metaphor to use, all things considered—before it even got started.

“Don’t what?” she asked. “Don’t take care of your every need?”

“Don’t even
talk
about my needs,” he said sternly. “We both agreed we’re not going to go down this road again.”

“What road?” she asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Turner eyed her warily. Okay, maybe he was jumping to conclusions here. Maybe she’d meant something
else entirely. Maybe she’d been talking about different needs than the ones he thought she meant. Maybe she was talking about his automotive needs. Yeah, that was it. Things like good mileage, and decent shock absorbers, and the best steel-belted radials money could buy. But when he looked at her face again, he suspected it wasn’t tire tread she was thinking about just then. And his suspicion only grew when she opened her hand over his cock and began rubbing it as she pressed her mouth to his.

Oh. Okay. So then it
wasn’t
his automotive needs she was talking about.

For one scant, delirious moment, Turner eagerly returned her kiss, because he was just too surprised and stunned—and also interested—not to. He even went so far as to tangle his fingers in her hair and cup his hand over the back of her head to draw her closer, mindless of the fact that they were already about as close as two people could be. No, not yet, he thought as he looped an arm around her waist. There was still an inch or two separating their bodies.

But the moment he felt her breasts pressing into his chest, and realized he was the one who had closed the distance, he tried to pull away. But Becca followed, pushing herself forward to cover his mouth with hers once more. Then she anchored herself in place by roping one arm around his neck and palming his dick into fully erect status.

Oh, damn…

“Becca,” he gasped as he tore his mouth from hers.

But she curved her fingers more possessively over him and rubbed him harder, and he knew there was no way he would try to stop her just yet. It had been too long since any woman had touched him there—well, before Becca
last week, he meant. And any hope he might have for rational thought fled the minute she began to stroke him.

In spite of that, he managed to get out a halfhearted, “Don’t do this to me again, Becca. Not unless you’re planning to go through with it this time.”

In response to his warning, she slowly, slowly…oh, so slowly, tugged down the zipper of his trousers and tucked her hand inside.

Okay, so that answered that question.

She found him immediately—which, he had to admit, couldn’t have been all that difficult, since in his current state of arousal he practically ran out to meet her—and freed him through the opening in his boxers. Without hesitation, she fingered the head of his member, dampening her hand with the prelude of his release. Then she curled her fingers completely around his naked shaft and ran them slowly down to its base before slowly pulling them back up again. Unable to help himself, he hissed in pleasure.

Again and again, she moved her hand up and down his rock-hard rod, slowly at first, then gradually increasing both her pressure and her speed. Turner laid his head back on the leather headrest and closed his eyes, stretching one arm toward the car door and draping the other over Becca’s shoulders. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, she kneading his flesh and he enjoying it, but after a while, he felt her hand come to a halt, and sensed her shoulders moving out of his grasp.

His disappointment was acute.

Until he brought his head forward again and looked down to see her bending over his lap. Until he felt her touching the tip of her tongue to the very sensitive head of his very aroused cock.

“Becca…” he said cautiously.

But as much as he wanted to voice his concern about the two of them being discovered out here like this, he couldn’t push the words out of his mouth. Instead, he pushed his hand through Becca’s hair, then along the back of her neck and over her shoulder, then down her spine to cup his fingers over the luscious curves of her ass. As she drew him more deeply into her mouth, he tugged on the fabric of her dress, and she shifted a little to aid him in his effort to drag the garment higher, until it was bunched up around her waist. As she drew him fully into her mouth, he pulled down her panties until her creamy flesh was bared to the scant moonlight. She was wearing those black garters again, and the sight of them striping her bare skin made Turner want to come right then and there. As she sucked him harder, he moved his hand again, pushing his fingers under the strip of black and spreading them wide on her sweet, naked ass.

She was so soft. So warm. So incredibly perfect. Again and again, he skimmed his hand over her tender flesh, at the same time reveling in the pleasure of having himself in her mouth.

As she gripped his cock at its base to hold him steady, Turner dropped his other hand to her hair, skimming his palm lightly over the silky tresses and curling errant strands around his fingers. She moaned in response to the movement of his hands on her, the vibration from the sound multiplying his enjoyment of her oral attentions. Her head moved slowly up and down in his lap as she took him deeper into her mouth, and the sight of that only excited him more. She squeezed his shaft lightly, then pushed her fingers deeper between his legs to incite him further, all the
while wreaking havoc on him with her tongue and her teeth and her lips.

He’d never been more aroused in his life. But when his pleasure built to a point where he was about to come, he knew he had to slow both of them down. Or, at least, slow Becca down. He figured the best way to do that was to distract her, so he moved the hand on her fanny between her legs, dipping his middle finger deep into her hot, slick canal. She gasped at the unexpected penetration, thrusting her head upward, as he had planned. To keep her preoccupied—and to buy time to slow his own orgasm—he moved his finger inside her again, pushing even deeper this time, then bent to cover her mouth with his.

Gradually, she unfolded her body and sat up beside him, and Turner moved his hand to facilitate her action. He was still hard and unfulfilled, his dissatisfaction acute. But for them to carry this any further could get messy. In more ways than one. He still wasn’t sure what was going on with Becca, and his own responses to her were anything but certain. Until they could put a name on whatever it was burning up the air between them, they needed to slow down.

“Turner, you can’t leave me like this,” Becca said when he pulled his head back from hers. “I need to feel you inside me.”

He smiled. “I was inside you.”

She smiled back. “You know what I mean.”

He started to shake his head, wanted to hear her tell him exactly what she wanted from him. But they were sitting in a car that didn’t belong to them—a car that cost more than the two of them made annually combined—and they were at a party hosted by their employer. This was the last place they needed to be getting down and dirty.

“Not here,” he told her. “We need to get back to the party.”

“You’re going to do me in front of a hundred people?” she asked. Then she smiled. “Ooo. Kinky. I like it.”

Hell, he wasn’t going to
do
her at all, Turner thought. No, what he had in mind for her went way beyond simple
doing
.

“No, but we need to get back anyway,” he told her, “at least for a few minutes, because if anyone misses us, they’re going to come looking for us, and they’re going to find us in a compromising position.”

“Is that what that was?” she asked, her voice a soft purr cutting through the darkness. “I thought that was a totally different position.”

He was about to tell her that as far as he was concerned, they could try every position in the
Kama Sutra
before the night was over, but feared that would only provoke her. So instead, he just repeated, “We need to get back to the party.”

“And then?” she asked.

“And then we’ll say our goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Englund, and thank them for a lovely time.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll have the valet bring around my car.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll go to your place.”

“And then?”

He smiled. “And then, Becca, we’re going to enjoy each other. In every way imaginable. All night long.”

B
Y THE TIME THEY ARRIVED
back at Becca’s apartment, she was about to burst into flames, but she hesitated once Turner closed the front door behind them. He seemed hesitant, too, at first, because he stood there with his back
against the door, his hands tucked behind him, as if he were trying to keep out whatever might be on the other side trying to keep them apart. But Becca knew now. Nothing was going to keep them apart. She wanted Turner in a way she’d never wanted anyone—anything—in her life. She didn’t know why or where the need had come from, and she couldn’t explain why she’d fought it so hard until now. But she wasn’t fighting it anymore. She wanted him. Badly.

And tonight, finally, she was going to have him.

For long moments, they only stood gazing at each other, each seeming to wait for the other to make the first move. Becca had left on only one light earlier, an amber-glass desk lamp in the corner, so now the room was bathed in a lambent golden glow that gave their surroundings an almost too clear, somehow otherworldly quality. Turner’s necktie was undone—Becca recalled untying it herself during the ride—and the top three buttons of his shirt were unfastened, again by her own hand. His dark hair was mussed from her eager fingers, and there were faint smudges of her lipstick on his chin and neck. Her breathing accelerated when she remembered how they’d gotten there.

Turner’s eyes darkened when he heard her breath quicken, and he strode forward, stopping when scarcely a sliver of air lay between them. But he didn’t reach for her, not yet. Becca didn’t reach for him, either, and instead waited to see what he would do. She’d taken the initiative once tonight. Now she wanted to see if Turner was as eager as she was to get on with what she now realized was inevitable.

For one long moment, he only studied her face, starting with her eyes, then dropping his gaze to her mouth, then bringing his attention back to her eyes again. And then he was touching her, too, first cupping her jaw gently in his
hand, then threading his fingers lightly through the hair at her temples. Then his other hand joined the first, dipping below her hair to curve possessively around her nape, the gentlest, most exquisite caress Becca had ever felt in her life. And then his mouth was on hers, coaxing and gentle, but with a promise of something more—something untamed, something unleashed, something she had never experienced with him before.

She melted into him instantly, curling the fingers of one hand into the fabric of his shirt, and threading the others through his hair. A soft sound of surrender—or maybe it was a sound of demand—escaped him as he intensified the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist, splaying his hands over the small of her back. And the moment she heard that sound, the moment she felt his hands on her, the moment she understood the power of their bodies’ responses to each other, she knew there would be no turning back. Not this time. Not ever again. She wanted Turner. Turner wanted her. There was nothing in this world that would keep them apart. Ever again.

So she pressed her body more urgently into his, wove her fingers more resolutely into his hair and cupped the crown of his head in her palm. And then she crowded against him—or maybe he was the one who crowded against her—so that she could savor him more thoroughly, and at her leisure. Not that she was feeling especially leisurely at the moment.

Turner seemed to want to take control of the kiss then, and Becca willingly let him. Again and again he pushed his tongue into her mouth, thrusting, parrying, tasting, testing. Sweet. He was so sweet. But his sweetness was mixed with something else, too, she thought vaguely, something
sharp and spicy that was both unfamiliar and irresistible. It was something that made her hungry for things she’d never realized she needed before, made her long for things she’d never known she wanted. So she kissed Turner more deeply still, knowing he was everything she would ever need or want again.

Her hunger seemed to mirror his own, because his kisses deepened, kindling a fire low in her belly that threatened to burn out of control. She wanted him so much she was oblivious to everything else, only knew that she needed him closer, needed his body joined with hers in the most basic, most intimate way it could be. The fingers she had twisted in his shirt scooted lower, snaking around his waist, opening wide over his broad back. In response, Turner looped his arm around her waist, too, then jerked her body hard against him.

But counter to his actions, he tore his mouth away from hers. “Becca,” he panted. “Are you absolutely, positively
sure
this is what you want?”

He still didn’t believe her, she thought. He still didn’t think she was going to go through with it. Even after what had happened at the party.

But then, why should he? she asked herself. She’d backed out every time she’d started this before. Though, at the moment, she couldn’t begin to imagine why. She couldn’t understand how she had ever had second thoughts about their having sex. What had she been thinking? Here with Turner, right now, the way they were, this felt so good. It felt so perfect. It felt so
right
. How could she have ever doubted that this was what she wanted?