Solace in Scandal (13 page)

That knocked the breath out of her in raspy jolts. She sucked it all back in when he ran his hands down her front, palms flat and fingers spread wide. He raked over her breasts, along her stomach and over her hips until he caught the straps of her thong.

The stretchy material was no match for him.

She bit her lip, but lifted her hips when he raised an eyebrow at her. The nylon pulled wide as he coaxed it over her spread legs, the material biting into her skin. He refused to budge from his place, though, and she had to lift her heels high off the floor to rid herself of the nipping garment.

She groaned aloud when the movement rubbed her core over the bulge at the front of his pants.

The sensation was so erotic and naughty. She was bare while he wasn’t.

Shyness had her trying to close her knees to hide herself, but the move only caught him tighter. He’d planted himself in the best and worst spot possible.

She groaned.

‘Need me yet?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she hissed.

‘Not enough.’

The front closure of her bra gave way with a pop and he tossed the cups aside, exposing her. Elena gasped when his mouth came down on her. After all the drama with her panties, she’d expected him to tease and coax her.

He did neither.

Instead, he gave her all she could handle.

She clutched the back of his neck as his mouth tugged at her nipple. ‘Alex!’

‘Mmm,’ he hummed, giving her a soothing lick. ‘That’s better. You refused to say my name for too long.’

He caught the tender nub with his teeth. ‘I want to hear you scream it.’

She let out a whimper.

Her tummy trembled as his attention drifted lower. His mouth was hot, but his tongue was like one of the flames in the fireplace. It dipped into her belly button and she twisted. Those flames only licked lower and lower still.

She writhed against the smooth white leather as the fire crackled hot and bright. She was rocking from side to side as he kissed his way from one hipbone to the other, but went shock still when he slid his hand between their bodies and cupped her.

‘Oh!’ Squeezing her eyes tight, she clutched at his forearm.

He ground the ball of his hand in a tight circle. ‘So sweet.’

He spread her legs wider and she flushed from head to toe when he removed his hand to look at her. His concentration was so intense, the flames in the fireplace might as well have jumped onto her.

‘Easy,’ he murmured. His fingertips were gentle as he petted her, spreading her folds. ‘You waxed.’

She had. She didn’t know why. She hadn’t planned for this to happen ever again with him.

Or had she?

‘I shouldn’t …’ she panted. ‘It’s too …’

‘It’s just right,’ he said as he leaned in for an intimate kiss.

Her body stiffened when his tongue dragged over her core in a long lick. Nerve endings fired and muscles contracted. He settled in deeper and she let out a cry when he prodded the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex.

Shyness and self-consciousness left her as pleasure consumed her. More than pleasure – need. With his hands, his mouth, and that raspy beard, he went down on her. Fully and enthusiastically. Her body undulated on the sofa. With the fire and her rising body temperature, the leather had warmed. Beads of sweat rose on her skin as he pushed her body harder and higher.

‘Ah!’ she cried when she felt penetration.

He pushed a finger deep as he sucked on her, his tugging tight and insistent. Propped up on the cushions as she was, she could see everything he was doing. She cupped his head, threading her fingers through his hair as he buried his face against her. The sight was carnal enough, until she caught their reflection in the windows. The golden glow from the fireplace lit them, caressing them both as it moved and shifted. There was no doubt as to what he was doing to her, and the darkness of the world outside pressed against the windows, looking on. The wind howled and trees clacked as it was held at bay.

‘More,’ he growled.

He was voracious as he demanded her pleasure. He was firmly in control, but this was a different kind of control. His emotions were on the surface. He could no more push them away than she could.

Elena let out a soft cry when he pulled his fingers out of her, but then he was sliding both hands under her bottom and tilting her hips upwards. The position couldn’t have been more submissive. She was splayed out for anything he wanted to do, anything he wanted to see.

His head dipped again, and he replaced his fingers with his tongue. The thickness was startling, and she flew into a fast orgasm that rocked her entire body. Ecstasy clashed with need and she pushed her hips at him, wanting more, begging for more.

He continued going at her until she sagged back onto the slippery white leather. With gentle hands he lowered her hips. His grey eyes were stormy as he stroked her body. He cupped her breasts and pushed himself up onto his haunches. She felt weighted down as he crawled up over her, his gaze never wavering from hers.

‘Need me now?’ he asked, his voice like sandpaper.

Oh, dear God.

‘Yes,’ she panted, her breaths ragged and uneven.

‘Good,’ he said in that same rough voice. ‘Because I need you.’

He lifted her legs until her calves were braced against his shoulders. It was only then that Elena saw that she was still wearing her black high heels. The picture made her belly contract. He was right. They were much better for this than for walking down that hill. The sight was even sexier when he left her legs where they were and undid his pants.

Their gazes connected as the rasp drew out across the room.

When he leaned over her again, she felt the stretch in the backs of her thighs and the pressure at her entrance. His erection was stiff and thick. Heavy, but he’d made her slick and hot.

He pushed harder and her entrance surrendered. She let out a choked gasp when he moved up inside her. She was small compared to him, and the position made him seem huge.

‘Relax,’ he crooned. ‘Your body is ready.’

She had to stretch to take him. His hands tightened around her shins as he held her legs where they were, pressed against his chest. In instinct or in panic she pushed back, but his shoulders just dug deeper into her calves.

And her hips tilted up, greedy for more.

‘Ohhh,’ she moaned.

He gave her what she wanted, burrowing into her steadily until she’d taken all of him. Her nipples peaked and tendrils of lighting shot out from her sensitive nub when he ground against her.

‘So good,’ he breathed.

She caught at him, at the cushions behind her head, anything she could latch onto.

But then he started moving, and she had no sense of time or place. All she knew was him and the perfect way their bodies came together. He pumped into her, slowly at first and then with more insistence. Harder. Faster. His hips swung in a wide arc, pulling back to almost leave her before plunging in deep yet again.

Her toes pointed straight up in the air, her heels close to his ears.

It was overwhelming. Primal. Undeniable.

And then she was coming again, over and over. One big wave came at her after another. She cried out in completion and he thrust hard, driving home. His head snapped back and a masculine groan filled the air. His fingers bit into her hips, and then one last wave took her under.

When her senses righted, Elena opened her eyes. Alex was braced over her, his weight on his arms as he tried to catch his breath. His muscled chest was working and his eyes were bright and clear. Firelight flickered over them, making shadows dance on the wall.

She pulled her legs down, and they both grunted as their connection shifted. His erection had softened, but he was still buried inside her.

A bead of sweat dropped from his forehead and splattered against her chest. He wiped it up with his fingertips, but then cupped her breast possessively.

‘No running away this time,’ he said, his voice quiet but fierce. He moved in for one last kiss. ‘Stay with me.’

Alex was disconcerted when he awoke. For once, his body wasn’t tense and his senses weren’t on alert. All was still around him. The bed was warm and comfortable. The mattress accommodated his height and the covers didn’t scratch. Most confusing, though, it wasn’t the dead of night. Early tendrils of light, really just the hint of them, were brightening the east-facing window.

It hit him then. He was out. He was free, and he’d slept the whole night through.

Again.

Rolling onto his back, he stretched. His head was foggy and his body was logy. He wasn’t used to getting so much sleep, even though he craved it. He’d developed such a light trigger that the drip of a faucet or the creak of a floorboard could set him off.

Learned behaviour could become as sharp as instinct.

And instinct told him he was alone.

He reached for the other side of the bed, but he knew without opening his eyes that Elena wasn’t there. Her heat wasn’t warming the sheets. Her slight weight wasn’t rolling towards him, and he didn’t hear her soft breaths.

The fact that she was gone didn’t surprise him.

He rubbed his hand over his chest.

With a sigh, he dropped his arm over his head against the pillow. He just couldn’t seem to help himself around her. The little waif had gotten under his skin, which wasn’t a good thing. He knew the danger of allowing her close. He still didn’t know her intentions, although everything Leonard had told him about her had proven true. She was an economics student at NYU, and apparently a good one. She’d ranked near the top of her undergraduate class and had achieved her master’s degree with honours. She was working on her doctorate, but he couldn’t get past one thing.

She was a Bardot.

At once, his brain cleared. His dulled senses tingled in warning, and he sat straight up in bed.

His office.
Shit
.

His hand fisted in the sheet. It was in the adjoining room and full of sensitive information, business as well as private. There were things in there she could not see.

Had she gone through his papers? Would he have heard her? He’d been out cold.

A breeze sent a chill down his back. He’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t trust anyone ever again. Not partners, not family, and certainly not a seductive
femme fatale
.

He shoved back the covers and began stamping towards the other room but pain shot through him unexpectedly. Sucking in a breath, he reached for the bedpost. The bruises on the bottom of his feet looked like storm clouds.

He muttered a curse under his breath.

She made him forget himself whenever she was around. His goals, his promises to himself, his self-defence mechanisms … The ache in his groin was all that mattered.

‘Damn hormones.’

He hadn’t even considered taking her someplace else. He’d wanted her in his bed. He hadn’t given a thought to the risk he might be taking.

His fingers wrapped around the doorjamb as he swung into the next room. His gaze scoured the office, moving fast and then going back for a second, slower pass. On the surface, everything appeared as he’d left it. The chair hadn’t been moved, the drawers were shut tight and there was no way she could have gotten into his computer. Still, prickles bit the back of his neck.

His gaze landed heavily upon the red notebook that sat open next to his laptop, and his vision turned nearly the same colour. He slapped the doorjamb viciously, then stalked over to his desk, the pain in his feet fitting his mood. He stared down at the narrow-ruled notebook. It was still open to the page where he’d blacked out most of his notes because he’d been going down a rabbit hole. There wasn’t anything to see.

But she’d been in here. He knew it as well as he knew his own name.

He began flipping jerkily through pages. That’s what he got for letting his dick lead him around. His teeth gritted until his jaw popped.

She’d been through the notebook. He had no evidence, no proof, but he knew it. It would be unintelligible to most, but she wasn’t most people. She was as smart as she was beautiful, and she was willing to use that sweet face and hot body to slip by his defences.

‘God dammit.’

He’d known he shouldn’t trust her. What was her game here? Had she not gotten her fair share? Had daddy told her there was more for the taking? Had someone made her an offer she couldn’t refuse? Appealed to her sense of ‘patriotism’?

He dropped the notebook with a splat against the desktop. So help him, he was not going to be played again.

He swept up the desk phone, called his top security guy and skipped right over the niceties. ‘I want Elena Bardot checked out.’

He didn’t let the man even get started about the first background search they’d conducted.

‘Deeper,’ he demanded. ‘I want to know if she has any connections to the Feds or reporters – television, print, internet, radio or otherwise. Find out how close she was to that bastard of a father of hers. Check her financial situation and if she’s ever taken any programming classes. I want to know what kind of toothpaste she uses, damn it.’

He’d nearly hung up before he pulled the phone back to his ear.

‘And I want the names of every man she’s ever slept with.
Ever
.’

He jammed the phone into its charger base and looked over his desk one last time. He’d brought her here. He’d escorted her right into the room.

He spun away and headed back into the bedroom. The chill intensified.

Frowning, he looked at the sliding glass door. He didn’t remember leaving that open.

Mood darkening, he walked over to roll it closed. He was going to have to start locking things, a step he abhorred. If he couldn’t stay away from her, it would be the only way to keep –

She was on the balcony.

The sight was enough to temporarily shut down his brain. There she was, plain as day. She hadn’t left. She’d stayed with him.

The angry thoughts in his head jumbled.

What the hell?

She looked so young and innocent standing out there, wrapped in a blanket and wearing his slippers. His gaze stuck on the outrageously large footwear adorning her tiny feet. She was making a habit of commandeering his clothing. As adorable as it looked, she made the ensemble sexy.