The One Who Got Away (5 page)

He nipped her earlobe. “You're stunning.”

She shivered all the way down to her toes. “Why Mr. Bowman, I do declare.”

His laugh added to her shivers. “I didn't know Southern California was part of the Deep South.”

Finally, they were at the elevator. The button had already been pushed, but Ben pressed it again. They waited with a family of four, all wearing Las Vegas T-shirts, the adults from Caesar's Palace, the kids from Circus Circus. The littlest kid looked to be about three, and very cranky. He tugged on Daddy's shorts, whining about something named “Snooky.”

By the time their elevator arrived, three more people had joined the queue and they all clambered in together, Ben guiding her to the back. He stood next to her, his hip against hers.

As they ascended, she felt a slight tickle just below the hem of her shorts. She jumped, but then realized it was Ben's fingers, brushing lightly against her skin.

With each floor, his fingers moved up the back of her thigh. She felt herself blush even though no one was looking at them. It was an incredibly intimate gesture, brazen, and yet totally discreet.

His fingers kept inching up until he brushed the curve of her buttock. Barely touching her, he swept his finger back and forth over the same small patch, giving her goose bumps everywhere. Driving her crazy.

She pressed back against the elevator wall, trapping his hand. “Stop,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Just wait.”

“I don't want to wait.”

“There's only one more stop before our floor.”

“Then it shouldn't be a problem. Come on. Move.”

She shook her head, figuring she'd won the battle.

Wrong. He turned until he was directly in front of her, his body pressed against hers so tightly she could feel his hard length, the sharp edge of his belt buckle. He smiled, his brown eyes filled with wicked intent, and then he kissed her.

Thank goodness the family had gotten off two floors down, because the kiss was definitely not G-rated. His tongue slipped between her surprised lips, exploring, darting, daring her to respond, to forget where they were, that they weren't alone.

Her hands went to his shoulders, trying to push him back, but he wasn't having any of that. Instead, he folded her in his arms, and reminded her what it was she'd loved about kissing.

His mouth opened just enough, his tongue, tasting slightly of gin, teased her into a moan that should have embarrassed her a great deal more than it did.

Then he was gone, leaving her on shaky legs, her mouth still open and moist. It took her a second to realize the elevator had stopped, that the strangers at each corner were staring at her, that Ben had already walked into the hall.

She escaped with seconds to spare.

He grinned again, knowing full well what he'd done, what he'd put her through. “I warned you,” he said.

“Okay. If that's the way you want to play it.” She didn't wait for his response, she just headed down the hall toward her room.

He caught up to her seconds later, putting that devil hand of his on the small of her back. “Yeah, I think it is the way I want to play it.”

“No mercy?”

His pace quickened along with his heartbeat. “No mercy.”

B
EN'S THOUGHTS
went immediately to the gutter.
No mercy.
The thought of taking Taylor right to the edge made his body hum with adrenaline and flat-out need.

From the moment he'd seen her last night, he'd spent every idle moment running seduction scenarios. Each vignette was rawer than the last, as the memory of that wild eighteen-year-old spurred him farther.

She wasn't eighteen anymore, but he could still see the girl in her. Made better by the years, and not just because her body had ripened to perfection. There was something whole about her, confident and sure. As if she'd grown into someone she liked very much. He couldn't remember ever thinking that about a woman, and he couldn't even give any particulars as to what had brought on the impression. The way she dressed, the way she held herself. Who cared? It was just hot as hell.

She stopped three rooms before his and pulled out her key card. It took her two tries to get the green light, but once she did, she flung the door open and dragged him in behind her.

Before she let him go, she kicked the door shut, then shoved him against the wall. He barely had time
to grin before her hands were on his shoulders and her lips were crushing his.

His eyes closed as her tongue thrust into his mouth. It was her show, and he wasn't about to interfere. Not when she made full body contact, rubbing against him from breasts to hips.

If she couldn't feel what she was doing to him, then something was seriously wrong, but he figured she got the drift. Especially after she gave him the little bump and grind right where it counted.

Taylor pulled back just enough to nip his lower lip, then she was off him, walking toward the minibar.

He, on the other hand, felt like a moth pinned to a Peg-Board, unable to move. “Damn, girl. A drive-by ravishing.”

She laughed, and the sound shot right to his groin. After a moment pondering the inside of the small fridge, she brought out a bottle of white wine. “It's not a martini, but would you like some?”

He shook his head. “I already had one. Too early for another.”

“I know. Hey, it's Vegas. No rules.”

“No mercy, no rules. What have I gotten myself into?”

She put the bottle on the dresser and her hand on her hip. “You're right. If you were smart, you'd peel yourself off that wall and march right out of here.”

He chuckled as he complied with the first part, but instead of leaving, he joined her near the dresser. “I've never forgotten you,” he said.

“Oh?”

Shaking his head, he moved in closer, not touching
her with his hands, but with his body. “That weekend rates right up there with the moon landing and getting my first bike.”

“Wow, and I thought you were just humoring me.”

“Hey, you needed a guiding hand, and God knows at that age, I was all hands.”

“You sweet-talker. I'm all aflutter.”

“No, you're not. But you will be.” He leaned in then, touching her lips lightly with his own. He wanted to take it slowly this time, learning her with due diligence and patience. They had almost a week, and he planned to milk each step for all it was worth.

She didn't try to rush him. In fact, she simply parted her lips slightly and shared her sweet breath as he lazily ran his tongue over her silky contours.

He thought about moving to the bed, but that could wait, too. For now, the only thing that mattered was her mouth, the way she tasted, the softness and the heat.

Her body, touching him at his waist and slightly below, melted back against the credenza, but she didn't use her hands to steady herself. It was as if they had choreographed the whole scene beforehand. To test his theory he pulled back and she followed effortlessly, neither increasing or decreasing the pressure of the kiss. Damn. He thought immediately of how the principle would apply when they got to the bed. Like synchronized swimmers without the water. Maybe he should try it now, while the magic was still in the air.

He took her hand and led her through the doorway
to the bedroom. She used her index finger to tickle his palm, and his whole body reacted. Who was this woman, and how could she turn him to mush with just a single finger?

He stopped her just shy of the queen-size bed. Smiling to match her devilish grin, he ran his hands lightly up her blouse, barely lingering on her breasts. He undid her top button then pushed the material to the sides, baring a small patch of décolletage. Leaning forward, he kissed the newly bared skin, then licked her as if she'd been covered in honey. It wasn't that far from the truth. She tasted sweet and smelled like summer.

She reached up to his shirt, but he shook his head. “Not yet.”

Her hands dropped obediently to her sides.

He moved down to the next button, and as he'd done with the first, he spread the material of her blouse. This time he was rewarded with a view of her delicate pink lace bra, molding her breasts into perfect soft mounds. He could just make out the slight darkness of her nipples. Part of him wanted to rip the damn thing off her, but he held back, enjoying the slow torment. He bent forward and kissed the top of her right breast, then licked his way across to the top of her left.

Her skin changed halfway there, breaking out into a field of gooseflesh. Beneath his tongue, he felt her tremble. He'd been hard since she'd touched him with her toes, but now he felt as if he would burst out of his jeans.

Still, he didn't rush. He unbuttoned her farther,
flared her blouse, exposing the fullness of her chest. He knelt a bit and kissed her underneath her bra, but that was a tease. Rising just enough, he put his mouth fully over her right nipple, hidden behind the lace. It wasn't so concealed that he couldn't feel the hardness there. He ran his tongue over the nub, slowly at first and then faster; a little demonstration of what she could expect later and not just on her breasts.

He felt her hands on his shoulder, and for a moment he thought she wanted him to stop, but when he did, she tugged him right back into place. She was simply steadying herself. Good, because he planned on being there awhile.

 

T
AYLOR HAD DIED
and gone to heaven. At the very least she was at the gate. Ben swirled his tongue around her left nipple, the lace making the sensation sort of dappled, if that were possible. She didn't care what it was called as long as he didn't stop doing it. His methodology was something he'd clearly learned over the years, because he'd been anything but patient that weekend. This was good. Very, very good. Her head lolled back as she drowned in the ocean of pleasure. It was wickedly hard not to touch him, to stand not so idly by and let him do all the work. But that was just manners talking, and this had nothing to do with etiquette.

No mercy. No rules.

It was everything she'd hoped for and a side of fries. “Oh, God.”

His chuckle was more a sensation of lips on flesh than a sound, and she wanted to make him do it again.
Wait, no… His teeth captured the tip of her nipple and pulled ever so slightly. Her gasp came from somewhere outside her body, but that was the only thing she wasn't present for. God, his hands were on her bare waist, tickling fingers setting her quiver factor on high.

The tickling stopped so his fingers could work on her button. Since her blouse was open, he undid her culottes. He knelt before her, found the zipper pull with his teeth and slowly pulled it down. She was grateful for the dresser, because without it she would have melted right down to the floor.

He let go of the zipper and spread the opening of her pants. It was unbelievably erotic to have him on the floor in front of her, knowing he could touch her anywhere, do anything. He kissed her, right below her belly button. Her head went back, her eyes fluttered closed and she whimpered in pure surrender. She wanted him to hurry, to rip off the rest of her clothes and throw her on the bed. She wanted him to go slower, to make every sensation last a lifetime.

Just the fact that she let him do this, let him take her wherever he wanted to go, astonished her almost as much as the feelings of need inside her. She never did this, didn't like it when she wasn't the one calling the shots, but not with Ben. Not Ben.

“Oh, God,” he whispered, just before he licked the expanse of flesh just above her lace panties.

She nodded. Oh, God indeed. The thought of where he was going, what he was going to lick next, made her dizzy and a little faint. She was no Southern Belle, all swoony over being touched, but this was to
“touching” like “Mary Had A Little Lamb” was to Mozart's Requiem.

Ben touched her thigh, and she realized her shorts had dropped. He used both hands, very gently and very lightly to run between her knees and the bottom of her panties. “You taste like sweet cream,” he whispered.

She put her hands on his head, ran her fingers through his dark hair. “Stand up. Please.”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Not yet.”

“But I want…”

He got up from his knees, kissed her hard. Let his body lean against her and she felt his erection through his soft jeans.

When he finally pulled back, he stared at her for a long moment. “Why did we wait so long?”

She laughed. “We just got here last night.”

“Ten years,” he said. “I missed too much.”

Her hand went to his face where she traced his remarkable cheekbones with her fingers. “I'm here now.”

“Amazing.”

“Do you want to know a secret?”

He nodded.

“I planned to seduce you. The moment I heard you were going to be Steve's best man.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I never forgot that weekend, either.”

His grin turned rueful. “I'm not as young.”

“I'm not, either.”

“It's not the same.”

“Oh, please. You're not over the hill yet.” She let
her hand fall between them. “And it's clear you aren't having any…problems.”

“No, no problems. I just don't have the same stamina.”

She kissed his lips, ran her tongue along the crease. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. But I'd be delighted to be wrong.”

“I think it's time I wasn't the only one undressed.”

“You're not undressed.”

She kicked her shorts toward the bed. “Almost.”

“Almost only counts in horseshoes.”

“And nakedness.” She reached for his top button and undid it.

He covered her hand while he shook his head. “Nope, not yet. I want to see you, first.”

“That's not fair.”

“Sure it is. Next time, you can undress me, and stare all you like.”

“Next time?”

“You don't think I'm going to let the rest of this week go by without taking full advantage of the situation, do you?”

“We have work to do, don't forget.”

He nodded. “I haven't forgotten. But there'll be time for both.”

“Oh?”

“Absolutely. I mean, Steve and Lisa have to sleep sometimes.”

“Maybe that's something we need to stop.”

“Sleeping?”

“It's not the sleeping part I'm concerned about.”

“Ah, you mean the sex.”

“Exactly. Maybe that's why Steve wants to marry her.”

“You think she's that special?”

She shrugged. “I'm completely bewildered by men's taste in women, and even more flummoxed by what they find sexy.”

Ben cupped her breast, rubbed his finger over her encased nipple. “It's not very complex. We men are simple creatures. Food, drink, a soft body between the sheets.”

“That's it, huh? Any soft body will do?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. And here I'll stop speaking for all men, and just speak for myself. If I don't find something intriguing up here,” he touched her temple, “then I'm not interested in what's down here.” His fingers moved from her head to the junction of her thighs.

“Come on, Ben, it's me. I'm a sure thing. You don't have to win me over.”

“I'm not trying to.”

She smiled. “And you know what? I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

“So don't you think it's the same thing with Steve?”

His face clouded a bit. “I'm not sure. Steve always did like a good time, but I also know he wasn't a hound dog, at least not around me. The things that most interested Steve were what they had in common. He wanted someone who would help with the fleet, who loved the sea as much as he does.”

“Which is why Lisa makes no sense whatsoever.”

“Right. Which means she's filling some other role. One he's never expressed before. At least to me.”

“Me, neither.”

“So in order to find out if this really is the mistake we think it is, we need to find out what Lisa represents to him. What need she's filling.”

“You don't think it's just about my dad? About making things up to him?”

Ben shook his head. “No, I don't. I think there's something else going on. We talked about the situation with your dad, and Steve never seemed that upset about it. Not enough to leave the sea.”

“Yeah, I know. But if not that, what?”

Ben pulled her close against him. “That's what we're going to discover. But not right this second.”

“No?”

He didn't answer her. Not with words. Instead, he kissed her again, slipped his arms around her back and in one of the smoothest moves since Rhett carried Scarlet up the staircase, he undid the clasp of her bra.

While his forward flank teased her tongue unmercifully, his side troops moved into position, which wasn't exactly fair. Of course, she wasn't complaining all that strongly, not when his hands were caressing her bare breasts. Her nipples were so taut they were like little weapons themselves, but she felt pretty darn sure Ben could take care of himself.

He certainly knew how to take care of her.