Total Temptation (5 page)

“No, you.”

“I don't know what you mean,” he said.

“You do!” This was torture. Utter torture.

“Say it. Tell me what you want.”

“Your cock,” she answered. “I need your cock.”

“Well, all right, then.” From behind her came the unmistakable sound of one of the packets being torn open. Then he fumbled for a few seconds, and she could picture him unfurling the condom over his beautiful erection. When the head pressed between her pussy lips, she almost wept with relief. And then he was pushing inside. So thick and gloriously hard, penetrating inch by inch until he'd filled her.

“You're tight, princess.” His voice came out strained. “Good thing you gave me head earlier, or I'd come right this minute.”

“Don't you dare.”

“Why? You want some of this.” Grasping her hips, he began to move. Deep thrusts that pushed her against the edge of the hot tub. She grabbed the rim in her fists to hold herself steady under the assault. Complete possession. She'd never had anything like this. Hadn't dared to believe such sensations were possible outside of books. But here she was, taking everything he gave.

He didn't toy with her clitoris, thank heaven. That would have made her climax too soon. Yes, she could come again, and she would, but this moment contained magic she'd never get back. The first time she'd coupled with a man the way her creator and nature had intended.

Instead, he kept moving, driving harder and faster. Her spirit soared out over the city, and she could have shouted, “Look at what I'm doing. I'm having sex, down and dirty. Just for the fun of it. Just because I want it.”

“I'm getting hot,” Bobby said. “You feel so damned good.”

“Don't stop, Bobby,” she said.

“I'm not going anywhere until you're done with me, but . . . oh shit . . . I am not going to last.”

He bent over her again, and this time, his fingers went right to her hot button. When he rubbed her, all the reasons she hadn't wanted it flew right out of her mind. Her mind blanked out everything except the thrusting of his cock and the throbbing of her clitoris. Her arousal reached a new plane—a universe of blinding light and pleasure so intense it filled every cell in her body. The orgasm coiled low in her belly and spread like wildfire through her. As he continued to plunge into her, her muscles tightened around him. A voice cried out. Her own, while her sex broke into convulsions.

His shout joined hers, and he straightened, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. After a few more savage thrusts, he stiffened. He'd come with her, and the knowledge stayed inside her as the storm of her orgasm waned and moved away. Resting her head against the rim of the tub, she took a few deep breaths while her pussy continued to grip him softly.

He groaned. “That was one beautiful fuck, princess.”

Of course he'd say that. He was paid to, wasn't he? Still, the declaration came as part of the whole package, and she'd enjoy it as much as she had the sex.

Chapter Three

B
OBBY WOULDN'T LET
her cover herself, so there she lay on the huge bed without a stitch on, and every time she reached for the sheet or comforter, he wagged a finger under her nose.

“If you're cold, we'll turn up the heat,” he said. “I want to look at you.”

He had a point, more or less. After everything they'd done, she could hardly feel shy around him. Still, nakedness for its own sake was an odd sensation. It made her vulnerable, as though she'd given him permission to know her in ways that had nothing to do with sex. He seemed perfectly comfortable without any clothes on as he scratched his belly and stretched.

She snuggled up against his chest. “Do you like what you do?”

“Beats anything else I have the talent for,” he said.

“Do you ever . . . that is . . . men can't always . . .”

“Get it up?” he asked. “I'm pretty good at that.”

She could hardly have failed to notice that. Even now, after two orgasms, his cock wasn't completely flaccid. It lay thick against his thigh.

“What if you get a client who isn't . . . well . . . beautiful?” she asked.

“All women are beautiful.” He kissed the top of her head. “Some more than others.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Are you asking if I think you're beautiful?” He slid a finger under her chin and tipped her face up.

She didn't answer. The admission would be too damned embarrassing. Her blush did it for her, though, as her cheeks grew warm. She'd be a dark pink any minute.

“You're a knockout, princess. Everything about you is adorable.”

That wasn't exactly what she'd meant, but she'd take it. So far in her life, she'd never managed more than pretty or cute. Maybe beauty would come later.

“I love it when you get embarrassed,” he said. “You turn pink right up to the tips of your ears.”

“That's really sexy, I'm sure.”

“Damned straight it is. That's the same color you turn just before you come.”

“You've been behind me both times I climaxed,” she said. “How do you know what color I turn?”

“Like I said. The tips of your ears.”

“Oh, God.” She groaned and buried her face under his chin.

“What are you afraid of all of a sudden?” He eased her away from him and stared into her face.

“It's not fear.” What a lie. Of course it was. How could a man like Bobby find her anything but ignorant and clumsy? He must have more sophisticated women all the time. Women like Madeline. Beautiful, poised, and self-assured. For all she knew, he
did
have Madeline from time to time. How could she measure up to that?

“Now, you see, we have to get you over that,” he said. “You have a lot of sexual power about you. You only need to find it.”

“Thank you,” she said, sitting up.

“You don't believe me, do you?”

“I'm sure you're being sincere . . .”

“But.” He sat up next to her. “Your next word was going to be ‘but.'”

“I've hardly experienced sex.” God, had she really admitted that? “Aside from my marriage, of course.”

“You're a natural, then.”

“Come on, Bobby, we both know you're paid to say that.”

“I wouldn't lie to you, princess.”

She didn't answer.

“I mean it.” He turned her face so she had to look into his blue eyes. “You believe me, don't you?”

“I do.”

“You sure? Because if you think I'm bullshitting you, I'm not your man.”

“I do. Really.” She rested her hand on his thigh. In the normal way of things, that wouldn't be an intimate gesture but one of gratitude and reassurance among lovers. Given that they were both naked and her fingers landed only inches from his cock, it had a whole other significance. Indeed, he became more fully erect.

She removed her hand immediately. “God, you're impossible.”

In the hours she'd known him, his grin had become even more deliciously wild than it had seemed in his picture, and he gave her the full blast now. “You made me this way.”

Before his grin could lead to anything more sinful, a knock came on the outer door.

“Room service,” a man's voice called.

“I didn't order anything,” Cassandra said.

“I did.” Bobby jumped from the bed and, without putting on so much as a robe, went out into the sitting room. Cassandra wasn't going to lie around naked and wait for a server to come strolling into the room. She quickly got up and dashed into the bathroom, pushing the door nearly shut to create privacy while still allowing her to listen for sounds from the other side.

After a moment, dishes clattered in the bedroom, and a tray settled somewhere. There were no sounds of conversation, though, and she stuck her nose around the door to find Bobby propped up on the bed holding a plate in one hand. The other hand held a hot dog in a bun; it was already missing a few bites.

She stepped into the bedroom. “Hot dogs?”

“I don't eat fish eggs.” As he took a huge bite, mustard and relish fell onto the plate in his hand.

“Is there one for me?”

“Are you kidding? I ordered two for each of us.”

“You can eat my second one.” She sat on the bed and studied the contents of the tray, which he'd set on the bedside table near him. Aside from the hot dogs and various condiments, there was also a covered chafing dish and a couple of mugs of beer. A covered crystal bowl stood nearby, and he'd brought the chocolate inside. No sign of the pound cake, though.

He put one of the hot dogs, along with its bun, onto a plate. “Chili?”

“Not on my diet.” But then neither were hot dogs. Or beer. Or chocolate.

“Well, then, here you go.” After removing the lid of the chafing dish, he used the spoon inside to nearly bury her hot dog with chili. It did smell good, and she hadn't eaten much of anything all day. Nerves had kept her stomach jumpy. Now, after all the fabulous sex, she could have eaten the comforter if someone had poured some of the chocolate sauce on it. So she took the plate from him and dug in.

She'd loved the champagne earlier, but in its earthy way, this was much more decadent. Laden with calories and not a whole lot of nutrition, the lowly hot dog bordered on sinful when covered with chili and beans. In fact, she'd seldom tasted anything so delicious. Before she knew what she was doing, she'd inhaled half of her food and was well on her way toward gobbling the whole thing up.

“I do love to watch a woman eat,” he said.

She had to laugh. “You call this eating? I call it making a mess.”

“A pretty mess. You have chili on your nose.” He leaned over and kissed it off. “Yum.”

“You're silly.”

“Not at all. Keep eating. It's a major turn on.”

The man had to be made of testosterone if he could become aroused again. Perfectly suited to his job, and yet for their time together, he made it easy to believe his response was all about her. That she really was the special woman who could get his engine humming like no other. He bit his lip as he watched her finish the hot dog, his gaze never leaving her mouth.

When she finished, she held up her messy hand. “I don't suppose you ordered any napkins.”

“Don't need 'em.” Grasping her wrist, he licked the chili off her palm and then sucked on her fingers. “Now for dessert.”

“Does that involve chili, too?”

“Nope. The other two food groups: fruit and butterfat.” He removed the cover of the crystal bowl to reveal strawberries slathered with whipped cream. More decadence, more calories. Perfect for eating in bed with a lover. He selected a berry with its own cloud of cream and brought it to her lips. When she bit down, the fruit's sweetness danced on her tongue, followed by the richness of its topping.

Bobby quickly swooped down to capture the other half of the strawberry with his teeth, and soon they were sharing a kiss more luscious than any of the food they'd shared. When he broke it off, she returned the favor with a second berry from the bowl, offering it to him and then stealing a treat from his lips.

“Sweet,” he said as he took a third berry and placed it in the hollow above her collar bone. He ate that, too, nibbling at her skin and then lapping off the cream with his tongue.

“Great American chow,” he said. “Hot dogs, chili, and strawberry shortcake.”

“There isn't any shortcake,” she said.

“Sure there is. You're the cake. I'm going to eat my dessert off you.”

“And the chocolate sauce?”

He brought his lips to her ear. “Post-dessert dessert.”

“It sounds messy,” she said.

“The messiest. By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be frosted like a birthday cake.”

“You have to be kidding.”

He lifted his head and gave her the evil glare. “Do I look like I'm kidding?”

“You'll get the sheets dirty.” Lord, why was she even discussing this with him? The idea was insane.

“I'll be careful.”

She held up her hands to ward him off. “I might want to stay in this bed for a while. I will not get it all smeared with berries.”

“Oh, all right.” He heaved the sigh of the put-upon male. “I'll get a towel from the bathroom and put it under you. We'll get that dirty, instead.”

“You're really going to do this?”

“You bet your ass, princess.” He climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom.

“A towel's not big enough,” she called after him. “Get a bath sheet.”

“Yeah. One of the really big towels.”

She flopped onto her back and stared up at the canopy. What in blue blazes was he doing? Here she was—an adult woman—about to let a man eat dessert off her body. She'd imagined any number of things that would happen once she crossed the threshold to Club Ecstasy, and she'd done a few of them. She hadn't expected, well, just plain fun. She couldn't have guessed that was exactly what she needed.

Bobby returned, a bath sheet draped over his arm. He scooted up onto the bed and spread the huge towel out. “Be a good girl and lift your hips.”

She'd more or less agreed to this, so why not? With her feet flat against the mattress, she pushed herself up and let him slide the bath sheet beneath her. When she lowered herself, the plush terry cloth cradled her rump.

He stretched out beside her and trailed his fingertips over her belly. “Soft, beautiful cake. I'll bet it's delicious.”

“You're silly.”

“You're edible.” He picked a berry from the bowl and laid it on a spot high up on her chest. He followed that with another strawberry laid a bit lower down. A third went between her breasts.

“They're cold,” she said.

“They're not going to be there long.” He continued laying a path of cream-covered strawberries down the center of her torso, gazing intently at his handiwork. “Now for the feast.”