She's Got Dibs (6 page)

She blinked, and the smoldering desire under his heavy lids made all thoughts of food vanish.

“Have you had enough dinner?” he asked quietly.

She nodded.

“Then would it be all right if I kissed you?”

She nodded again.

He smiled a moment before his lips captured hers.

She slid her hands around his neck, tightened her arms over his broad shoulders. The tip of his tongue moistened her bottom lip. He smoothed his hand down, fingers woven through her hair to tilt her head back, slanted his mouth over hers and plunged his tongue inside.

Arousal eddied and gathered strength. Tiny tremors exploded throughout her body. Moisture pooled between her thighs. She smoothed her hands to his chest and fisted the lapels of his jacket when desire flared and an array of fireworks crackled behind her closed eyelids. His arm lowered to her hips and he pulled, nudging her across the top of the chair, bringing her flush to his hard thigh. The urge to climb onto his lap, to wrap her arms and legs around him mounted to an overwhelming need. She wanted his hands on her bare skin, his naked body gliding against hers, and for a moment the intense yearning both exhilarated and scared her. Never before had she been so stimulated by a kiss. She broke off, but Dibs followed, cupping the back of her head to kiss her again, and then again.

“Maybe we should go,” she gasped between his kisses.

“Let’s go now.” He sprang to his feet, threw some money on the table and snagged her hand.

Tessa tugged his fingers. “Wait, my keys.”

“I’ve got them.”

As they stepped onto the crowded elevator, Dibs bent down and stole a kiss. She scowled and he kissed her again. Sighing, he shuffled his feet as the elevator ascended, lowered his lips to her ear and breathed into her hair. “I’m placing a complaint about these slow elevators.”

She rolled her eyes, and then wobbled unsteadily when he palmed her bottom, his splayed fingers massaging the back of her thigh.

By the tenth floor, everyone had exited except the two of them. The moment the doors closed, Dibs spun and trapped her face in his hands. Their lips met. His throaty moan drifted into her mouth, vibrated the surface of her skin. A thrill washed her chest, heating her belly, trickling slick and inviting into her thighs. She held his upper arms, tightened her grasp, envisioned the two of them alone together, and kissed him more urgently.

The elevator chimed and the doors whispered open, but she didn’t care. His lips were her only focus, the smooth deftness of his tongue and the edges of his teeth when he nipped the plump flesh of her bottom lip. He pressed his hand on the small of her back—their hips collided—nudged a thigh between her legs and tightly cinched his arms around her waist.

By the time she finally eased away, his eyes had darkened to stormy gray. She breathed deep and hurried into the corridor.

Dibs walked quickly at her side, his hand on her waist, guiding her toward his room. He fumbled the key card into the lock and wrenched open the handle, waiting for her to enter.

Once she crossed the threshold, he stepped in behind her and fell against the door. The lock clicked into the latch, the abrupt darkness magnifying every noise.

“Come here.” His throaty whisper was thick, gruff with desire.

She reached for him in the dark, snaked her arms inside his jacket. His hands met her sides and crept to her spine. The rough stubble on his cheek tickled her neck, her knees trembled when he nuzzled her throat. A large, warm hand tilted her chin up and he crushed his lips to hers. She explored the hard planes of his chest, found the edge of his lapels, and urged them off his shoulders. His arms disappeared a moment before his suit coat crumpled to the floor.

With arms like steel bands, he gathered her close, each kiss igniting white sparks behind her closed eyelids. She tugged his shirt from his belt. The pressure of his hands disappeared and the button on her suit suddenly freed. Nimble fingers grazed her breasts, danced up, and eased her jacket away from her neck. The garment slithered from her arms, the rustling of leaves when it hit the floor. He shoved her to his chest and she arched against him, their hips thrusting, bodies swaying. Exhilaration sizzled along each nerve ending. An ache, deep and fierce, built in an oncoming thrill and torment for more.

She withdrew and gasped in a heady breath.

Dibs speared his hand in under her hair and urged her back to his waiting lips.

She met his kiss, her palms slipping inside the tails of his shirt. His skin quivered under her touch. His breathing grew labored. She trailed her fingertips over the downy hair on his stomach, skimmed a finger inside the front waistband of his pants. Her blouse loosened from her slacks, his palms met her bare skin, and his fingers clenched her sides.

Tessa gently pushed his chest and stepped back from him. “Wait a second.”

Dibs dragged a breath into his lungs. A rushing filled the room as he slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry.” He rasped. “Am I going too fast?”

She laughed into the darkness. “No, that’s not it. I need the lights on for a second.”

A
click
split the darkness and light illuminated the room. Elegantly appointed, the suite boasted a seating area and manteled fireplace, gilt-edged paintings and brass table lamps. Beyond the open bedroom door, a gold comforter and mounds of pillows decorated a king-sized bed. But the one thing that made her heart pound in anticipation was the raw hunger in Dibs’s gaze, his hand on the switch as he stood by the wall.

She rummaged through the packages he had placed inside the door earlier that evening and selected the one belonging to her.

“I need to take care of a few things.” She flipped the bag over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

He stared at the bag before shifting his focus to her face. “Oh…my…God,” he whispered. “Okay.”

She flicked an eyebrow, crossed to the bedroom, and entered the bathroom.

The art deco wall sconces cast a soft glow on the brass fixtures, the teal inlay on the cabinets a perfect accent to the white marble floor. She set the bag on the countertop and lifted out the beautiful negligee and bathrobe set Dibs had purchased at the airport. What a fortuitous stroke of luck he had selected the nightgown specifically for her. The thought brought a smile to her lips as she stripped and let the silky material slither down her naked body. When she turned her back to the large gilded mirror, two twin sets of thin spaghetti straps crossed beneath her shoulder blades and ended low on her hips. She glanced at the bathrobe, balled it up, and stuffed it in the bag. Just one other thing needed her attention. She ransacked her purse for her secret supply and tucked the silver foil packet in beside her breast. Birth control pill aside, she would not risk her health. And pregnancy wasn’t even in the
realm
of possibilities. She faced the mirror, ran her hand through her hair, and stepped to the door. Filling her lungs, she twisted the knob, and exited.

Dibs sat in a chair he had placed few feet outside the bedroom door. His tie was gone and the top three buttons of his shirt lay open. In his hand was a crystal tumbler, the amber liquid inside presumably two fingers of scotch. He locked onto her and fell back in the chair, lifted the glass, and then hesitated. Ice clinked against the side when he tipped the rim to his lips.

Holding her hands to the sides, she rotated in a slow circle. “You have very good taste, Mr. Brenner.”

His gaze meandered the length of her while she completed her turn. “I most certainly do.”

A giddy smile broke free. Without fail, the man said all the right things. She closed the distance, offered her hand.

He clasped it and stood. The light trail of his fingertips across her breast bone made her nipples peak against the silk of her nightgown.

“My God, Tessa,” he whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”

She stole the glass from his hand and placed the drink to her lips. The scotch burned as it trickled down her throat. Glossy and sleek, the negligee shimmered in the light, hugging her hips and feathering the tops of her feet as she sashayed to the desk in the corner. She gathered her hair and swept it onto her chest, revealing the low-cut back. Meeting his eyes over her shoulder, she beckoned him with her head.

In a few long strides, he neared and grasped her upper arms. His lips nipped the nape of her neck, and she arched when he dotted kisses down between her shoulder blades, each imprint setting off a series of rippling spasms in her core. He floated his hands to her sides and his fingers clenched, the tip of his tongue licking a delicious path up to her ear. Palming her stomach, he shoved her bottom against the stiff ridge in his pants, devoured the side of her neck. A gasp escaped her throat when he bent forward over her, dipped his hand between her legs, and fisted and bunched the negligee to her knees. He reached down a second time and his fingertips tickled up the inside of her thigh.

She whirled in his arms and clung to him, pressed him backward and stepped with him into the adjoining room until his calves bumped the bed. She thrust her hands up his shirt, shuddered when the muscles of his ribcage flexed under her palms and he moaned a path of open-mouthed kisses across her chest. Working in tandem, he stripped the shirt from his arms as she unhooked the clasp of his belt and urged his pants and boxers off his hips. The buckle thudded to the floor. His rigid member sprang free, flushed and erect. She stroked the unyielding length of him, swirled a fingertip around the bulbous head. Dibs held the side of her throat as he drank from her lips, grabbed her thigh, and sat with her straddling his legs. He tucked his hands inside her negligee, clutched her bottom, and shoved her hips forward. Desire pooled between her thighs. Her heart raced in her chest.

Wrapping her in his arms, he cradled her head in his palm and she fell back. Lust coiled like a tight spring in her belly when the hard heat of his groin met her slippery folds. She writhed against him, bucked her hips when his lips latched onto her nipple, wetting the tight peak through the silky nightie. Need screamed through her body. She held onto his shoulders, arms extended, and rolled her hips, increasing the friction. An explosive release loomed just outside her reach. Dibs dragged her to his chest, muscles tense, rock-hard and trembling under her palms.

“I can’t wait anymore.” He breathed against her neck. “What do we need?”

She plucked the condom from its hiding spot and tore a strip off the top with her teeth. Eyes scrunched tight, legs shaking, he covered her hand with his and squeezed her fingers as she rolled the latex down his pulsing shaft.

Tessa rose to her knees before him. Dibs seized her hips. She thrust down, sheathing him in one swift motion, gasping against his lips as he groaned.

Oh, God, each ridge, the hard length of him. He was a perfect fit.

Never before had she been so consumed by the moment, his hands, his kisses, the whisper of his breath on her skin. She became slave to her desires, rocking back and forth with him there, on the edge of the bed. Until a deep swell gathered strength within her, a rending tide of pleasure. Intense tingling heated the soles of her feet, bolted hot and sleek up the inside of her legs. She arched into him, riding harder. Spasms fluttered, rippling around him when he ground against her, caressing each muscle, filling her to the brim. Bright lights swarmed the edges of her vision. His fingers dug into her hips, arms flexing as he urged her faster, lifting her only to plunge back inside. Her urgency built as he began to shudder beneath her. The crescendo mounted and with his next thrust ecstasy crashed and swarmed her body, wave after wave of release pulsed through her flesh. She tossed her head back and rode the crest as it tumbled and swirled.

As the tremors slowly ebbed, she collapsed against him, her arms draped over his shoulders, her cheek nestled in the crook of his neck.

****

Tessa lay with her back against Dibs’s chest, trailing her fingertips across the arm he held wrapped around her shoulders.

“That…was amazing.” His murmur sent aftershocks thrumming through her legs.

She smiled, snuggling against him. “It was that.”

“So, have you decided on my category yet?”

She laughed quietly and slipped her hand under his, lacing their fingers together. “I think I may have to invent another number.”

“Category six?”

“The Philanthropist.” She pressed his knuckles to her lips and the rumble of his husky chuckle vibrated along her spine.

She kissed his hand once again and tried to push up from the bed, but he tightened his arm, holding her in place. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. Geesh.”

He nibbled her ear before releasing her, floating a hand down her arm when she sat up. The weight of his gaze stayed with her as she crossed the room.

Her rumpled reflection in the mirror was the first betrayal. Concrete proof of what her life had become. She followed her fingertips to her lips, hoping to avoid her image in the glass. But it was too late. Guilt and shame stared back at her, all the mistakes she’d made since he left…

She closed her eyes and spun away from her reflection, forcing the bitterness away. Now wasn’t the time or place.

Dibs’s low murmur reverberated through the door and she frowned, donned her dressing gown and quickly washed up. She reentered the room to find him reclined against the headboard of the bed, the tableside phone crooked between his shoulder and ear, his new blue bathrobe draped open on either side of his chest, the belt tied at his waist.

She gathered his clothes off the floor, and then hesitated when the phone dropped into the cradle behind her. “Who were you talking to?” she asked.

“Front desk. I ordered up some dessert.” He sat forward and waved her to the bed.

She propped a hand on her hip. “I thought we just had dessert.”

“Funny. Leave that stuff and come back over here.” He beckoned emphatically with both hands.

What was he doing? Wasn’t this the part when they got dressed and said their awkward goodbyes? Shouldn’t somebody be leaving? Namely her?