Mistletoe Not Required (9 page)

He heard the television’s countdown click over to the New Year and lifted his head to look at the enchanting vision in front of him. The exploding fireworks outside showered colour over her face.

Stars shone in her eyes and her lips curved as she met his gaze. ‘Happy New Year,’ she said, softly. ‘Again.’

He couldn’t help but smile back as he let his hands roam lower, to the firm curve of her backside, and tucked her tighter to him, grinding his pelvis hard against her. ‘Back at you.’

She groaned at the contact, her sweet breath fanning his face. ‘It’s pretty good so far.’ Grin widening, she cupped her hands around his jaw and pulled his face back to hers. He was more than happy to oblige, enjoying the way her fingers moved into his hair, against his scalp. Firm and flexible. Sure and strong. Competent. He closed his eyes and tried
not
to imagine how they’d feel manipulating other parts of his tight, tortured body.

He ran his hands lightly up her spine and she gave one of those little shivers of delight and leaned closer. Firm breasts pressed against his chest, hard nipples easily felt through the thin layers of fabric separating them. She was aroused. Ready. And so, so tempting.

Except Olivia wasn’t the kind of good-time girl he enjoyed briefly before moving on. No matter how enthusiastic Olivia was to get on with it, no matter how willing he was to let her. She was also Breanna’s best friend—definitely not to be messed with.

So this kiss was absolutely a one-off. A souvenir. Just for fun, for New Year.

Except it felt like...more.

Her unique flavour was as exotic as any taste sensation he could concoct, drawing him into some kind of maelstrom that made his head spin and his heart pound in a crazy way.

He told himself it was the Scotch he’d drunk, that he’d not eaten since breakfast, that he was still recovering from seasickness, but, like an addict, he couldn’t seem to tear his lips away.

He wasn’t aware how long they stood there locked together from neck to knees and mouth to mouth but finally they both had to come up for air.

It was the break he needed to pull himself out of the spell he seemed to be under. His breathing was unsteady and he struggled for cool, clear sanity. Cursing silently, he ripped off the party hat, tossed it to the floor. Gripping her upper arms, he looked into her eyes, determined to ignore the tempting invitation he saw there. ‘This is not a good idea.’ He spoke each word slowly and deliberately as much for himself as for her.

Olivia watched him through a fog of desire swamped with frustration. Because she knew it was mutual—his dark gaze and the hard, hot ridge of masculine flesh between them proved his words were a lie. She tossed her own hat away. ‘Why?’

‘Because if you stay, we’re going to finish what we started a week ago. You’re killing me here, skipper.’

Her spine tingled with the thrill that his admission brought. She wasn’t going anywhere. She pushed at his chest. ‘I changed my mind about being with you. And don’t look so worried, it’s just for fun. I know that.’

‘Fun,’ he echoed, his brows drawing together as if he didn’t think her capable of such a notion.

‘You’re not a one-woman guy—you don’t even trust people enough to make friends—so yes, fun. What else would it be?’ Olivia picked up the supermarket bag still within reach on the table. Her hand trembled a bit as she drew out a smaller paper bag from the bottom.

His eyes darted to her package, back to hers. Heat smouldered in their depths, scarlet smudges flared high on his cheekbones. ‘What trouble are you planning on getting us into now?’

‘
I’ve
decided we need to finish whatever this is between us before we move on. And we’re going to finish it.’ She waved the paper bag in front of his face, opened it carefully. ‘That’s why I brought condoms.’

‘Olivia...’

Letting the bag fall to the floor, she held up the packets. ‘I didn’t know what you prefer so I got three. Ridged, ultra lubricated and extra l—’

‘Stop.’ Placing a thumb against her mouth, he sealed off the rest of her sentence. ‘Just stop.’

But Olivia refused to stop. She wanted him, and she was going to have him. She pried his thumb from her mouth and told him, ‘We’re just getting started.’

NINE

She’d never played
a seductress-in-the-bedroom game. Never wanted to, never even been tempted and certainly wasn’t sure she knew how. But something deeper urged Olivia to try.
Tomorrow might be too late.

And with Jett, it would be too late because this was their last night in Hobart. Tomorrow they’d go their separate ways. If they met up again—through Brie—it might be under very different personal circumstances.

She tucked the condom packets in the pocket of his shorts, then, since her hands were already in the vicinity, she took the opportunity to slide her fingers under his T-shirt. And up. She felt the hard muscles beneath his skin contract beneath her touch.

A strangled sound issued from his throat. She liked the sense of power his reaction gave her. That she could turn him on. She could get him to play.

‘Your skin’s so hot,’ she murmured, rubbing her hands over two flat male nipples as she gained confidence, stepping into the role with apparent ease. ‘Maybe you’d feel cooler if we just...take this...off.’ Heart pounding, she waited, her eyes on his, and saw a battle waging within their dark depths.

‘You’d better be sure about this,’ he said. ‘Because tomorrow I’m gone.’

‘I know. And I’m sure.’ Once started, her newly discovered inner seductress made it so easy to slip her hands onto his bare shoulders, lean in and convince him with her mouth, with her tongue. With a slide of her bare foot over his shin and up, agile toes finding purchase on the back of a hairy thigh.

He reared back, muttering something unintelligible, but his hands shot upwards and the T-shirt was gone, leaving a bronzed expanse of skin sprinkled with dark hair that arrowed down and disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Olivia dared her gaze to follow. Her mouth went dry, her legs turned to jelly and her core throbbed with desire and anticipation. He was even bigger than she remembered. Oh. Sweet. Heaven. Would all that fit? She couldn’t wait to find out.

He reached for the straps of her dress but she shook him off. ‘My turn tonight.’

He nodded, eyes heavy and smoking hot in the dimness. ‘Help yourself.’

He appeared all casualness and acquiescence but Olivia could see the tension rippling across his abdomen. Perhaps he enjoyed having women perform sexual favours for him, or he was humouring her for the moment, because no way would he play the passive role unless it suited him. Even now, she knew he could turn this situation around and have her pinned beneath him before she could blink.

That made him dangerous. And exciting.

She reached out and touched him, a light stroke across his abdomen, a fingertip against his navel. ‘Are you a brief or boxer man?’ She slid both hands beneath his waistband. Her knuckles grazed firm, warm skin.

‘Guess you’re about to find out for yourself.’ His voice sounded low, strained.

‘Not here.’ She prodded him so that he walked backwards until his calves came up against a wide leather recliner chair, then nodded. ‘Here’s good.’

She reached into his pocket for condoms—she wasn’t fussed which packet it was—and slapped them on the coffee table beside the chair. Then with a nerve she hadn’t known she possessed until this minute, she shoved the shorts—and boxers too—over his hips and down. There was an awkward moment when he had to help her manipulate the fabric over his massive erection, but then he was stepping out of them and kicking them aside and he was naked and she was fully clothed and she felt amazing and powerful and sexy.

He cleared his throat. ‘Do you want me to lie down?’

‘Not yet.’ Outside, the party lived on but the only sound in the room was their quickened breathing and her heart beating its way out of her chest. She shifted closer, felt his need, warm and tempting across the intimate space between them. Like a kid with a new discovery, she was compelled to touch, to explore. She’d never touched a man this way and curiosity and wonder filled her. Hot, silk-covered steel. Wrapping her hands around him, she looked up, watched his eyes darken as she acquainted herself with him. She experimented, squeezing gently and sliding her hand upwards. ‘Wow.’

He shuddered, placed a firm grip on her shoulders. ‘You keep doing that and it’s going to be over in seconds.’ His voice was gruff, his jaw tight.

She bit her bottom lip, and immediately let go. ‘Sorry...’

A glimmer of what looked like humour lit his eyes. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘I...it’s just that you make me want to be adventurous and a little bit naughty.’

He grinned. ‘Hell, skipper, you’re already adventurous. And I’m all for a little bit of naughty.’ He pulled her against him and toppled them both onto the butter-soft leather.

‘Hey, it was my turn.’ But she laughed, breathless, and straddled him, arms straight, hands resting on his broad shoulders. His legs chafed against her inner thighs, his arousal nestled huge and hot against her panties.

He waggled his brows at her. ‘You’re on top, aren’t you?’

She looked down at the seemingly innocuous smile with wicked fun smouldering in those dark eyes. ‘Yeah...’

It was the oddest feeling being with this man with a playboy reputation—the sort of man she usually had little time for. But she knew now that it was only a part of who he was, and right now he just made her feel special.

He tugged the zip at the back of her dress, his fingers grazing a shivery path down her spine along the way. It slid from her shoulders to hang, gaping and loose on his chest. His eyes didn’t leave hers, glittering in the dimness as he flicked open her bra, pulling it away from her skin and exposing her tightening nipples to the cool air.

‘You’re amazing, you know that?’ he told her while big palms smoothed the fabric up over her outer thighs, raising goose-bumps and heat and blood pressure.

She shifted, adjusting her knees so she was closer. ‘This whole night’s amazing.’

Jett agreed, his hands sweeping up the curves of her body as he divested her of her clothing. Then she was exposed to his gaze but for a pair of skimpy lace knickers and he took a moment to go slow, trailing his fingers over peaches and cream skin never touched by the sun. Pert pink nipples ripe for tasting. He filled his hands with her sensational breasts and listened to her breathing quicken and turn choppy, then raised his head and suckled her.

‘Jett...’

Gasping, she threw back her head and Jett felt her nails digging crescent moons deep into his shoulders. He tipped back his head to see her better. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes closed.

‘Right here with you,’ he murmured.

She made a little sound at the back of her throat.

Ah...yeah. He wanted to hear those cute little noises she made when she came. He wanted to hear them
now
.

But more than that, he wanted
her
. Only her. All of her. He admired her control-freak nature, he’d found it a turn-on and he’d never want to break it, but tonight he wanted to bend that control. Just a little. To watch her fly apart and know he was responsible. He reached down between their bodies and with two swift tugs the last lacy barrier disappeared.

Her eyes went round with surprise, but only for a moment before her mouth kicked up at the corners. ‘That was my best pair of knickers. I wore them especially for you.’

‘And I appreciated them, believe me.’ Without taking his gaze off her, he grabbed the condom packet, tore one open and sheathed himself. Something flickered at the edge of his consciousness, like sheet lightning on the ocean’s horizon on a sultry summer night. Olivia wasn’t like other women he slept with. And tomorrow— Nuh. He reached for her. She was here now, she wanted him, and for tonight she was his.

As his hands gripped her waist and lifted her hips she drew in a sharp breath and Olivia saw doubt cross his gaze. Still gripping his shoulders to support herself on arms that had started to tremble, she met his eyes. ‘It’s okay.’

He slowed, setting her down carefully on his belly. ‘Please tell me you’ve done this before.’

Heat rushed to her cheeks. ‘I have. But not often.’ She bit her lips then said, ‘I’m sorry.’

Dark eyes searched hers, brows lowered. ‘What are you apologising for this time?’

‘Because...I’m not very good.’ Her most intimate parts on full view, she’d never felt more exposed. Except he wasn’t looking at her intimate parts; his gaze was focused on her eyes.

‘Who the hell told you that?’

‘Jason... An ex-boyfriend. He said...’

‘He was an idiot and he was wrong. And you’re not getting away from me that easily.’

‘Really?’ Relief washed through her.

‘Really.’ A corner of his mouth lifted and he touched her cheek. ‘We’ll take it slow.’ With an infinitely tender gaze, one she’d never thought Jett capable of, he drew her head down until their lips touched, ever so lightly. A butterfly’s kiss that soothed and enticed.

And for a rare and precious moment she felt like that emerging butterfly—shiny and new, treasured even. She felt as if he were kissing her for the first time, his lips surprisingly gentle and so, so sweet, fingers tangling lightly in her hair and drawing it down so the tips caressed his shoulders. Creating a curtain so that all she could see when she lifted her lips and opened her eyes was the perfection of his face.

‘Everything okay?’ he murmured.

‘I just want to look at you.’ He stared at her and again she sensed his hesitation. ‘Don’t freak out,’ she said tight-lipped. ‘I have no interest in long term either, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

‘Here isn’t the right place for this.’ Somehow he managed to push up, tucking her against him. She clung to his neck as he carried her across the entertainment area, down a short passage and into a luxury bedroom.

She got a glimpse of a massive bed piled with cushions and strewn with discarded clothes but then he tumbled her onto a cool cotton quilt and followed her down.

Stark white street lights shone through shuttered windows throwing silver bars across the bed as he stretched out, pulling her on top of him again, but slowly and close so that every exquisitely sensitive part of her slid along every hard and hot and masculine part of him.

Jett kept his hands casual and easy, his movements slow and loose, but heat glimmered beneath skin, a banked fire—one spark and they’d both ignite. ‘Just so you know, I want you too,’ he murmured.

A purely female smile tugged at her lips. ‘It’s kind of obvious.’ She straddled him again, one hand in the centre of his chest as she wriggled downwards. ‘And while I’m on top I’m going to take full advantage.’

‘I meant...’ That swift silvery tug had snagged him mid-sternum. Caught him unawares. ‘You’re one of a kind.’

Her apricot fragrance surrounded him with warmth—and something more. It took a heartbeat or two to recognise it. Familiarity. And intimacy that went beyond the physical. He was unaccustomed to both. Solitary was his life. No hassles, no heartaches.

He’d be on the road out of town first thing tomorrow.

For now he concentrated on guiding himself to her entrance and arousing her with slow smooth strokes while she supported herself on her arms in such a way so that her breasts grazed his chest. The inexperienced seducing the player with the kind of sweet torture he almost
wished could last for ever.

‘We won’t do anything until you’re ready.’

Her laughter, surprisingly earthy, filled the quiet room. ‘My one and only Secret Sinner-Santa. I’ve been ready for you since Christmas Eve.’

Unlike her robust amusement, beneath the cold white light filtering through the shutters her usually sun-kissed skin took on the fragile appearance of delicate porcelain, and he discovered
he
was the one trembling. Apparently his sexy skipper was as daring in the bedroom as she was on the ocean.

Fascinating, Olivia thought, how a man’s body could be so different but fit so beautifully with hers. He’d set the mood to mellow, the pace to slow and for now she was happy to go with it.

Slow didn’t mean less intense, oh no. For her tonight, the journey was as important as the destination. And since this was a one-off, she intended to make it last. All the way to Morningtown.

‘Olivia...’

She’d noticed Jett only used her real name when something was serious. She looked down, met his eyes and saw something tender, almost vulnerable, beneath the raw and primitive. When she blinked it was gone.

‘Jett...’ she murmured back, instinctively lowering her mouth to his to soothe and assuage and distract. And seduce.

He gripped her jaw and let his lips slide over hers, back and forth. ‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’

She nibbled the shell of his ear and whispered, ‘So am I.’

‘I love your breasts,’ he murmured, his lips and tongue teasing the ruched tips.

Her breath caught. One day those breasts he so admired would betray her. She wondered vaguely how he’d feel about her if they were gone. How any man would feel about a woman who was only half a woman.

‘Anything wrong?’ He paused and his gaze flicked to hers, concerns and questions in their depths.

‘Nothing,’ she whispered, pushing bad thoughts away, pulling his head down to her breast again. ‘Don’t stop.’ Her fingers tightened as she stroked his silky hair. ‘Give me everything.
I want it all.
’

No lover could have been more caring and attentive and patient than Jett. The low rumble of his voice, the unhurried way he moved his hands over her. He knew just where to touch, to taste, how to make her body sing with nothing more than words.

Lovely lingering caresses, slow murmurs, exquisitely sensual. The drift of light over his face. Nerves melting away in the warmth of his gaze. Time to savour, to enjoy.

There was nothing but this moment, this place. This man. Her mind was filled with him, lazy limbs sliding against his, the scent of their mingled bodies rising up between them.

His muscles were taut, humming, and she knew what it was costing a hot-blooded, experienced man like Jett to go so slowly. A considerate lover, allowing her to set the pace, to take control.

There were no words exchanged as they explored one another. Just murmurs of delight at each new discovery. The way he shuddered when she licked inside his ear. The feel of corded muscle beneath firm skin. Contrasts and textures. She’d never thought a man’s body would be so appealing to touch or feel so pleasurable against hers.