Nicki's eyes fluttered open. The lost-in-pleasure haze in her eyes was like a Bruce Lee kick to the gut, potent, disarming.
"But ..."
"You still haven't proven to me that you're wet."
Squeezing her thighs together, Nicki winced. "I'm so close . . ."
"Tonight, any orgasm you have comes from me."
Her fingers started moving again. Oh, it was subtle ... but Mark wasn't blind.
"It's my body. If I want an orgasm--"
"You'll let me to give it to you." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from the wet flesh he couldn't wait to explore, to possess.
"Damn you!"
"Prove it to me, Nicki."
Swallowing, she jerked her wrist from his grasp and held up her fingers. Glossy and thick, her juices coated her skin and all but dripped to her palm. Mark smiled in savage satisfaction.
"Very nice. Feed them to me."
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she led her fingers to his waiting mouth. Still she trembled, watching with wide, dilated eyes.
Nicki reached him finally, and he opened his mouth to her approaching fingers. Her spice dripped onto his tongue, along with the taste of her skin and her trembling want. The combination exploded in his mouth. He sucked hard, drawing her in farther, tracing the crease between her fingers with the tip of his tongue. She closed her eyes and let loose a delicious moan. Oh yeah, she was ready for anything he gave her.
And he was burning to give her everything he could.
Taking hold of her wrist, he guided her arm around his neck and drew her flush against him. At the feel of her, naked and eager against him, everything inside him gave way. Restraint--gone. Patience--vanished. The only thing left was this woman and his insane need to have her as completely as he could.
Mark took hold of her chin with his free hand and forced her gaze right into his eyes. "If you don't leave now, I'm going to get inside you, Nicki. Deep inside, where you cling to my cock. I'm going to stay there, hammering at you, until you don't care that you can't breathe, and you'll use your last bit of air to scream my name."
Nicki's eyes widened, darkened. Mark swore he could see the endless ocean under moonlight swimming in her face. He wanted to drown.
She didn't move a muscle except to say, "Yes. Now!"
Her raspy whisper flared over his skin with the intensity of a third-degree burn.
Frantic, wild-eyed, Mark scanned the stage, looking for any place to spread Nicki out and lay her down beneath him.
Nothing but a dusty black floor and a flimsy chest of props likely to give her splinters on her ass. Besides, he wanted her alone, where no one could find them and interrupt, especially with a blare of loud, taunting music.
Growling, he lifted her against him and fused their mouths together. He found his way offstage, blindly stomping through the club, to the door leading to the upstairs apartments.
"Wrap your legs around me," he demanded.
She complied instantly. Gratified with her response, he fisted his fingers into the sleek waterfall of her hair and tugged. Angling his mouth over hers, he thrust his way inside to taste the addictive honey of her kiss. Her moan vibrated deep inside him, rasping against his urgency to get inside her again and make certain she knew he would send her clawing over the edge of restraint.
Barely aware of his ascent, Mark climbed the stairs, Nicki's sweet mouth submitting to his, her bare ass cradled in his hand. With every step, her oh-so-wet pussy rubbed against him, right where it counted--right where he could barely tolerate another moment outside her wet, silk walls.
Mark resisted the urge to kick his door in. Instead, he slid her down to her tiptoes, pressing her against his door, while he fished out his keys with one hand and stroked his thumb over her nipples with the other.
Nicki clung to him, her lips nibbling their way down his neck, to the sensitive seam of his shoulder. As she lifted one leg over his hip again and gyrated against his nearly exploding cock, he jammed the key in the door, shivered as she nipped at his lobe, and wondered if he could get her on her back and put a condom on in three seconds or less.
"Hurry," she pleaded in between raw, panting breaths.
In a flash of movement, he wrenched the key in the lock, shoved the door open, and slammed it behind him. Nicki only took that as a sign to lift her other leg over his other hip and make sure in her own way that he didn't divert his attention elsewhere.
As if there was any chance of that.
He swore his vision was nothing but a passion-hazed red as he cupped her ass, devoured her mouth, and carried her into his apartment all but impaled on his cock.
His round kitchen table was the first smooth, flat surface he found. He laid Nicki down on its spotless Formica top. She hissed at the chill on her back and arched up to him like an offering.
Mark had every intent of receiving.
Throat tight, he fished a condom from his pocket and yanked his pants down to his hips. Fingers fumbling in haste, he thrust the condom on his engorged cock, gathered Nicki's slender thighs wide into the crooks of his elbows and drove his way home.
She parted around him like melting butter, hot, pliable. Mark sank deep, fingers pressing into her hips as he pushed his way inside, deeper, deeper, until he was in to the hilt. Nicki's walls quivered around his cock, and pleasure gushed over him, so utterly complete. God, he'd never known its equal.
Nicki lifted her hips to him with a whimper. "Mark!"
He couldn't wait, had no control. Instead, he gave her everything he had in long, frantic strokes. Hell, she was so damn tight, every push in rasped with the wet, velvet friction. It teased his cock and had him tensing to hold back.
No, damn it. Not that quickly. Not that easily. He might not have Nicki all to himself, but before tonight was over, she was going to know that he understood the secrets of her body and could give her pleasure like no one else could.
She was not going to simply fuck him and forget him.
Drawing in a deep breath, he stilled, pushing out the insistent feel of his throbbing cock, and focused on finding his calm, his center.
He found only a modicum of control before Nicki wriggled her hips. Ecstasy careened through his body, made him grit this teeth. She responded by grabbing his wrists and dragging his hands over her breasts.
"Now!" she demanded with a wild-eyed growl as a flush spread across her neck and shoulders.
Refusing her was impossible.
A quick pinch of her nipples had her gasping. Then he unleashed his lust. With punishing strokes, one after the other, he impaled her. The head of his cock rubbed her G-spot, dragged up her entire channel to nudge the mouth of her womb with every thrust. Her nails dug into his biceps. She swelled around him, clamping down on him even more, and she closed her eyes against the sheer ferocity of the sensation. Mark fought not to lose his mind, too.
"Look at me, damn it!" he demanded.
Her eyes flew open, blue gaze connecting with his, locking.
Pushing into her again, he growled. "Don't look away."
Nicki did as he demanded and watched as he lifted his hand from her breast, licked his thumb, settled it right over her distended clit, and circled. Her eyes widened as if in distress as the blue darkened to endless pools of need.
Three strokes later, she exploded with a guttural shout of primal pleasure, as her silken slit milked him. But it was her expression that pushed him dangerously to the edge of his restraint, so focused and yearning, as if he was the only man in the world who'd ever made her feel this way.
God, he'd love that to be true.
Rededicating his efforts, Mark rubbed at her clit again. The harsh strokes of his cock abraded her swollen, slick channel. In seconds, Nicki rewarded him by squeezing him even tighter inside her. The quivers became pulses, hard and constricting as she released again and screamed his name until her voice cracked and she ran out of air.
And still she looked at him, as if he alone could undo her and remake her like this. As if he alone could save her.
As if she loved him.
Mark's restraint broke into a million pieces. The tingles brewing at the base of his spine detonated through his body, rushing pleasure and the thick honey of satisfaction through his blood.
He leaned over her, shoving his arms under Nicki's slender back and lifting her against him, fusing them together.
Gasping for breath, he babbled hoarse words beyond his own comprehension and pumped everything he had into her during an endless climax that left him dizzy and spent and somehow raw inside.
Slowly, he came to a stop. Only their harsh breathing punctuated the silence. And still he couldn't look away from her eyes, now so warm and blue, like the sky on a perfect summer day. Mark wanted to stay and bask here, pretend nothing else mattered or existed.
Duty warred with the feelings pressing at his chest. The conflict felt like a thousand-pound weight sitting on his ribs. Why? She was just a woman he'd shared the sheets with. Now, it was over.
He ignored the voice in his head reminding him that, since his divorce, he'd never been inside any one woman as many times as he had Nicki. One-night stands--that's it. Occasionally he went back for easy seconds, never thirds. Never. And he'd never taken a moment to get to know any of them, much less like them the way he liked Nicki's velvet-encased steel personality.
Worse yet, he began to rise again, his body was already telling him that he wasn't nearly finished with her. The tight squeeze in his chest as he looked at Nicki again, now glowing and soft. Oh, God.
This was a bad sign. Very bad. With Nicki ... he could get in way over his head. Forget completely that she was not just a woman, but a suspect. He wouldn't lose himself again to another pretty, dangerous face.
Mark shut his eyes, breaking the connection with Nicki, and withdrew from her warm, clinging body. She gasped, but he didn't turn back as he went to deposit the condom in the trash.
In the next room, with a wall separating them, he leaned into it, his forehead against the cool plaster, and drew in a shaky breath. What the hell was he going to do?
On the other side of the wall, he heard Nicki shifting, rising.
Then she appeared in the entrance to the kitchen, and he straightened to meet her.
"Another hit-and-run, huh?" She crossed her arms over her bare breasts.
"What do you want, Nicki? Like you said last time, it wasn't as if we made any commitments before we hit the sheets. We have great sex."
"And that's all it is?"
"What else do we have?"
Pain lanced Nicki's face, tightening her mouth. "I'd love to say something smart ass, like 'thanks for an interesting evening,' but I won't. You told me not to lie to myself earlier. Take your own damn advice."
She turned away and headed to his foyer before pivoting back suddenly. "God, I'd love to know what that bitch did to you. I got the message that it's none of my business. Fine. She screwed up your life once. Ask yourself if you're going to let her do it forever."
His stomach plummeted to his toes. "What the hell are you talking about? It was just sex."
Nicki raised the black wing of her brow. "If that's true, then remember that when you're coming, and don't tell me you love me."
A
fter finally finding sleep at five in the morning, the last thing Nicki needed was to be back up at nine to meet Uncle Pietro's plane.
Clutching her cup of piping hot Starbucks, she loitered in the baggage claim, clutching her aching head.
She did her best to ignore her aching heart.
No, she wouldn't think about Mark. Again. It would only upset her more. Still ... Was there any chance that the declaration of love he'd shouted during his climax had been true--even a little?
It didn't matter. She shouldn't want it to be true. She wasn't looking for the lasting bond that came with love. But when he'd said it ... she couldn't deny her heart had leapt in response.
After she'd reminded Mark what he'd said last night, he denied saying it, turned a sickly shade of white, and apologized. Apologized, of all things! Clearly, he didn't recall saying it. Nicki supposed that was his way of saying it wasn't true.
God, why hadn't he just stabbed her in the chest? It would have been more humane than the way he'd cut her heart out with his words.
And her pain only told Nicki that she cared far more about Mark than was wise.
Whatever that woman had done to Mark had been painful, deep, and lasting. Even if, by chance, he did feel anything for Nicki, he'd bury the feeling and deny it until the end of time.
Whatever they'd had was over.
Having major sex with a hunk who could make guys posing in calendars envious and was beyond stellar in bed was fabulous, yes. He could make her smile, laugh. He never failed to make her feel sexy, to steal her self-control and replace it with his will. And she loved all of that. Right up until the climax was over, when he realized they were getting too close and he withdrew both physically and emotionally. Completely.
Girls' Night Out was not just time-consuming but mentally demanding. She couldn't afford to divert time to healing Mark ... if he could even be healed.
Though Vegas was a betting town, Nicki wouldn't lay down money that he could be. Whatever he'd let slip in a moment of passion, whatever he might feel, he'd spend all his formidable will burying.
Tears stung her eyes. "What's the matter with you, huh?"
Nicki blinked away her tears, then glared at her uncle, who looked so polished in his gray double-breasted suit, despite the early hour, that it set her teeth on edge.
"Some of us run a business that doesn't close until two in the morning. Being at the airport a few hours later doesn't put me in a good mood."