Summer Temptation (Hot in the Hamptons Book 2) (11 page)

He laughed against my skin, a deep, rich, decadent sound. A cocky kind of laugh that had me dropping to my knees to show him I could push him toward losing control just as easily as he could push me.

Before he could stop me, I shoved my hand up the inside of his leg beneath his cargo shorts and cupped his hot, hard length through the cotton of his briefs.

He let out a breath and opened his thighs to give me room.

I caressed him up and down, firmly, looking up, watching him as I did. “You like that?”

He tilted his head down. “Baby, you know I love having your hands on me.”

Interesting. No one had ever called me ‘baby’ during sex before. I kind of liked it. “Only my hands?” I asked, using them to unbutton and unzip. “What about other parts of me?” I lowered the elastic of his black cotton briefs, exposing him. “Like my cheek for instance.” I rubbed my cheek against his oh so smooth skin. “Or my tongue?” I swirled the tip of my tongue around the tip of him, tasting him for the first time. “Or my mouth?” I took him deep.

“Shit, Leigh.” He grabbed onto the dresser by the door to steady himself.

I didn’t stop, sucking him deep again and again, one hand moving in tandem with my mouth, the other cupping his balls.

Now it was his turn to groan, a gratifying sound if ever I’d heard one.

“You still want to take things slow?” I teased, standing up so I could wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him on the mouth.

He kissed me like he was a man minutes away from dying and my lips contained the power to save him. I kissed him back with a need, a hunger I feared would never be satisfied.

When we came up for air, he stripped off his shirt. My skirt and panties were the next to go.

Not wanting to be the only one standing naked in a fully lit room, I lowered his shorts and briefs until they fell to the floor and he kicked them aside.

“Give me ten seconds, then turn off the lights,” I told him.

I turned to find the candle and matches by the bed, igniting the flame just in time to keep the room from being plunged into darkness.

“Where were we?” Nick pressed his naked front to my naked back, cupping my breasts and kissing my neck as he did.

I tilted my head to give him full access. “I recall mention of you exploring every inch of me.” Every inch of me practically vibrated with gleeful anticipation.

“You seem to like that idea.” He steered me toward the bed.

“I do.”

“Lay down.”

I did.

Good Lord, the man had skills, taking his time, using his lips and his tongue, his fingers, his legs and feet. My neck tingled, my nipples hardened, and the needy place between my legs throbbed for attention, unwilling to wait. “Please.” I rocked my hips, needing more. “Later.” I needed him so bad. “You can explore every inch of me later.” I tried to pull him on top of me.

“Wait,” he said. “Condom.”

Thank goodness one of us was thinking clearly. Condom on, Nick crawled up my body, oh so slowly, and settled himself between my legs.

I opened wider to make room for him. “Finally,” I teased.

Holding himself up on straight arms, Nick looked down, watching me as he slid inside, taking his time, moving forward, a little bit, then back, forward then back, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me, his eyes never leaving mine.

I reached up to play with his nipples. They hardened but didn’t distract Nick from his task as he continued his slow, sensual glide, all the way in, all the way out, again and again. So focused. So intense. So controlled.

So different from the last two times we’d been together, his movements and expression filled with caring. I remembered a conversation from one of our moonlit walks on the beach.

I’d asked,
“You’d waste your one wish on having sex with me?”

He’d answered,
“It wouldn’t be a waste…and it wouldn’t be just sex.”

Tonight didn’t feel like ‘just sex.’ My heart swelled, because tonight he was purposely taking his time, making love to me. As much as I appreciated it and loved him for it, I wanted more, wanted him crazy with lust, on the verge of losing it, desperate for release. I contracted my internal muscles, squeezing him tight as I shot my hips up to meet him.

He faltered the tiniest bit.

“Faster.” I lifted my legs, crossing them behind his back, my feet at his butt, trying to force him to increase his pace.

It didn’t work.

“Harder.” I raked my fingers up his sides and clamped my hands behind his back, trying to pull his full weight on top of me.

It didn’t work.

“Please.” I writhed beneath him, trying to reposition, to feel... “I need…”

I don’t know if it was my begging tone or if he needed what I needed, but Nick dropped on top of me, gathered me into his arms, and fucked me. While I hated that word, and would never say it out loud, there was no other way to describe it. He plunged deep, again and again, angling his hips, moving like a wild man. “Yes.” I loved it. “More.”

“You feel so fucking good,” he said. “God help me.” He kissed my ear, my cheek and chin.

As my orgasm started to build, I set my feet on the bed and, knees bent, drove my hips up, swiveled them.

Nick groaned, his breathing heavy, his body slick with sweat.

“Oh God.” So close. So amazingly good. “I’m….” was all I could get out before my orgasm slammed into me and out of me. Spectacular.

“Shit.” Nick stiffened above me. Then he pulled out, pushed back in, and stiffened again. “Fuck.” He let out a groan.

I smiled.

He went limp on top of me. I loved the feel of him, his body spent, exhausted, and, I hoped, as satisfied as mine.

I thought he’d fallen asleep, but all too soon he shifted off of me, and with a, “be right back,” he left the bed and went into the bathroom.

When he returned, he climbed in behind me, still wonderfully naked, gathering me into his arms and cuddling in close.

I’d never gone to sleep, in my bed, in the arms of a naked man before. I’d never felt like I was falling in love with a man before…tonight. The thought that I may be falling in love with Nick made my heart ache with regret.
Children ruin everything
, he’d said, making his opinion clear. I had no future with a man who didn’t want children, because in a few months, more likely than not, I’d be having one.

Nick

F
ive days after my dinner date with Leigh, and the absolute best night I’d ever spent with a woman, I sat in the upscale lobby of The DeGray Group, waiting for my interview, the second of the day, staring at the indoor waterfall, hating smelly cabs and crowded Manhattan streets and all the clothing required for me to look professional.

I missed the beach.

I missed Leigh. Four weeks into our ‘Summer of Fun’ and I didn’t want our time together to end.

“Mr. Kenzy.”

A very distinguished older gentleman, maybe mid to late fifties, with a full head of thick, salt and pepper colored hair, walked toward me. He wore an expensive-looking, dark gray suit, a bright white dress shirt, and a perfectly tied red silk tie. He held out his hand to me.

“Yes.” I picked up my briefcase, stood and shook the man’s hand.

“Garrett DeGray,” he said.

I nearly swallowed my tongue.

Garrett DeGray? The head of The DeGray Group? One of the most successful fund managers of the past decade, averaging a return of 12.6% over the past five years? That Garrett DeGray?

He smiled. It caught me off guard, because it almost looked familiar, although I had no idea why. I’d never met the man, had never even seen his picture, but everyone in the business knew of his successes.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, trying to regroup. “I thought I’d be meeting with someone from the Human Resources department, not the man in charge.”

“I had some time available,” he said matter-of-factly. “Come.” He turned, obviously used to giving a command and having it followed. While I walked, I noticed he was cordial to his staff, recognizing some by name, others with a nod of his head. People moved out of his way, in my estimation, more out of respect than of fear.

He took me to a boardroom on the main floor rather than his office. With the two of us closed inside, he said, “My daughter thinks very highly of you, and she is a very good judge of character.” He walked to a narrow table along the wall, picked up a pitcher, and poured himself a glass of water. He held it up. “Would you like a drink?”

No. I wanted answers. “I’m sorry, sir. Your daughter?”

He poured a second glass and handed it to me.

I gulped it down like I’d just finished a marathon, having some difficulty coming to terms with the fact I was alone in a room with Garrett DeGray, the man every Wall Street analyst, myself included, dreamed of one day becoming. For some reason, though, he thought I knew his daughter. I didn’t. Which meant this entire meeting was a mistake.

My excitement at learning The DeGray Group was hiring at the same time I found myself in need of a job turned to instant regret.

Mr. DeGray sat down at the head of the table and motioned to the seat on his right. I sat.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said again. “I think there’s been some type of mistake.” Much to my overwhelming disappointment. I should have known this interview was too good to be true.

He gave me that oddly familiar smile again. Then he clasped his fingers together and set them on the table in front of him. “I see she didn’t tell you who she is, which doesn’t surprise me.”

Didn’t tell me who she is? Who didn’t tell me who she is?

“My daughter insists on getting by on her own merit. One of the many things I admire about her, in addition to her being smart, loving, and an exceptional judge of character, which I believe I already mentioned.”

I sat there trying to follow along while not letting my confusion show.

“Leigh,” he said. “My daughter is Leigh. You met her in the Hamptons.”

Thank the good Lord I was sitting down. I’d done a hell of a lot more than simply meet her in the Hamptons. The things I’d been doing with this man’s daughter over the past few weeks. I felt my face heat. The things I still wanted to do before the end of the summer.

If I were Leigh’s father, I’d shoot me.

He smiled again. “I think she feels the same way about you.”

If she did, then why hadn’t she been honest about who she really was? “So exactly why am I here?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Did Leigh ask you to meet with me?” Did she think I wasn’t capable of finding my own job?

“No,” he said firmly. “She’s been spending a lot of time talking about you. It’s not like Leigh to go on and on about a man.” Mr. DeGray studied me as if trying to identify my appeal. “When she mentioned you’d worked as an analyst on Wall Street for the past two years and were currently looking for a new job, I had my director of human resources call around to find out which headhunters you were working with to get you in here for an interview before some other company snapped you up. I’m always on the hunt for good people.”

Ahhh. To be snapped up by another company so quickly and easily.

“So there’s really a job?” I asked. “This isn’t some father recon to find out more about the man currently dating his daughter?” I didn’t add, ‘For the summer’ because that made our relationship sound cheap and meaningless, and it wasn’t, at least not to me.

Mr. DeGray smiled again. I saw Leigh in that smile. “I guess it’s a little of both, Mr. Kenzy.”

“Please, call me Nick.”

“Nick.” Mr. DeGray took a sip of water, then stared thoughtfully into the glass. “Leigh is the most important person in my world, Nick. As much as I wish she’d taken a job here at my company, I respect her for wanting to earn her success on her own, unencumbered by a father’s protection and whispers of nepotism. But I do hope that one day she’ll join me…join us,” he looked me in the eyes. “If it turns out you’re the right man for the position I’m looking to fill.”

I couldn’t help but wonder about the exact nature of the position Leigh’s father was looking to fill.

Needless to say, on the train ride back to the Hamptons, I had a lot to think about.