Hot Sheets

“You said we have time,” she reminded him in a stranger’s voice.

His eyes closed. He exhaled a sound that wasn’t quite a groan, a sound so needy Laura knew instinctively that her effect on him rivaled his on her. And knowing she was the object of this man’s desire blindsided her with its potency, a physical reaction that made her tingle with arousal.

“We do.” He exhaled those words on a kiss. “If we move fast. But I’ve waited so long to make love to you that I won’t be rushed.” He brushed another kiss along her temple. “Do you know I’ve never seen your hair down? Will you take out your braid for me later? I want to see you wearing nothing but hair.”

Even such a simple request meant he’d been thinking about her, perhaps even fantasizing, and she found the thought exciting. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

His eyes fluttered open again, and he speared her on a heated gaze. “Mine, too. And speaking of pleasure…” His voice trailed off as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her hose and dragged them down.

She suddenly stood there with her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts thrust outward and her sex exposed, looking decadently bare with the hose tangled around her thighs.

His low growl rumbled near her ear, and he ground that hot erection against her for good measure. But before she had a chance to ride his length and share some of her excitement, he stepped away. The air suddenly caressed her bottom, punctuating the distance he put between them.

“I’m going to bring you pleasure, Laura.” His husky-voiced declaration filtered through her, almost as potent as the hands he grazed along her bare skin.

Threading one hand between her thighs, he zeroed right in on the knot of nerve endings there. Coaxing the tiny bundle from its hiding place, he expertly rolled his fingers, sending a jolt through her.

Their gazes locked in the mirror. The intensity on his handsome face, those thick lashes hooding smoky eyes, promised her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined, promised that he would enjoy making her come apart at his command.

Forcing her to part her thighs, he explored her at his leisure. With sleek curls of his fingers, he spread moist arousal along her most intimate places, and Laura arched back against him, surrendering to the heat, letting him have all the control, payback for having resisted him for so long.

And he welcomed her payment, taking liberties that seemed astonishingly brazen for two people who’d only just decided to get intimate. But obviously Dale felt as if two years of unrequited attraction entitled him to privileges.

He thrust those fingers silkily in, and her body grew slick beneath his skilled touch. The mirror displayed every nuance of her expression, the way he worked her in long pleasured strokes, the way she swayed sinuously to feed this awakening need within.

“I want to watch you come,” he whispered. “Let go.”

Let go? She barely hung on. She rode his hand with an urgency she’d never known before, didn’t want to control, a need that tossed her normally sound reason to the winds to keep up this steady rocking motion… A motion that created friction exactly where she needed it.

Dale promised to bring her pleasure and he did. Tension mounted, a coiling pressure that wound its way through her, and took over until she recognized the look of casual determination on his face. He hadn’t been joking. He wouldn’t stop until he made her come. Right here. Right now.

While he watched.

And when he hauled her back against him to find a deeper position, she did let go. She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, wasn’t sure she even wanted to as her body moved decadently in time with his strokes. Let him enjoy the show because once he used the heel of his palm to knead her orgasm into breaking, she couldn’t worry about anything but the way her body had started to vibrate….

When Laura came, it was an expansive, glorious sensation that rolled through her body, as if two years of longing had crested and finally broke. Two years of fantasies that had grown into almost an obsession. A climax that shocked her with its intensity, left her panting as she leaned against him to support herself because her legs wouldn’t do the job.

She wasn’t sure how long it was until she could force her eyes open, but when she did, she almost wished she hadn’t. Dale still watched her with that hungry expression, seemingly content to stand there forever with his hands wedged between her thighs.

She wasn’t sure what to say, but Dale proved that bad boys could still be gentlemen when he eased his hands away and slid her hose back into place with a few efficient moves.

Steadying her until she could stand on her own, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

His smile was pure male satisfaction, his voice a dare when he whispered, “One down. Seven to go.”

4

DALE ADJUSTED HIS tie in front of the dresser mirror, surprised and content with this turn of events.

A bad boy.

Leave it to Laura to dissect him. Yes, he’d enjoyed an active sex life before he’d starting building the Wedding Wing. And had he been enjoying himself during this job as he ordinarily would, he would never have had the kind of hard-on for this gorgeous blonde that wouldn’t go away. The kind that had made him desperate enough to invite heartbroken Monique on this trip.

He shook his head, exasperated by his own obsession with a woman, and at Laura’s idealistic notions about him and sex. If she wanted bad, he’d give her bad beyond her wildest dreams.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It went a long way to salvage his pride that he wasn’t the only one suffering a serious case of unrequited lust. Just the memory of her smooth skin had his fingertips tingling. He had it so bad that he wanted tonight’s dinner over with so he could get her back to this room and start exorcising his demons.

He hoped Laura understood what she was getting into, because Dale meant exactly what he’d said—he didn’t intend to be rushed. He was going to make slow, careful love to her and explore this chemistry they shared. He would learn every inch of her tempting body and what touches made her melt the way she had in his arms.

“Heading out tonight?” Laura asked.

He glanced around to find her standing in the doorway dressed in a clingy blue dress that invited his gaze to linger over every shapely inch of her. “I’m escorting you to dinner.”

“Oh.”

Her beautiful face still looked soft-edged with pleasure, and with the dress accentuating the unusual blue of her eyes, she looked more edible than any feast Falling Inn Bed’s chef could prepare. Covering the distance between them, he slid his arm around her waist and tucked her close so he could feel all those sleek curves neatly against him.

A soft gasp slipped from that kissable mouth and she slid into his arms with such gratifying ease that he couldn’t resist a taste. Just one taste to test the reality against the fantasy.

He brushed his mouth across hers, sampled velvet moistness and his own lightning-hot response. Just a taste.

“We only have three weeks together, Laura, and I don’t plan to miss a second.” He traced her full lower lip with his tongue. “Not even for your business dinners.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“I plan to—four times, remember?”

Her gaze darted upward, her eyes so wide with surprise that he kissed her again to stop from laughing. What was it about this woman that pushed his buttons on such an instinctive level?

Deprivation, maybe. For a guy who usually dated a different woman each week he’d curtailed his dating for an obscene amount of time to behave like a boss on this project. Or perhaps deprivation had only intensified the effect. He recalled feeling as wildly attracted to her the day they’d met. A feeling that translated into a desire to distract her so he could keep stealing kisses.

Her mouth parted beneath his and he thrust his tongue inside, tasting her sweet warmth, savoring the easy way she responded. She tasted of inevitability. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and had finally accepted that this heat raging between them was a gift to be explored and enjoyed. Her kiss told him that she’d stopped resisting the truth and abandoned any thoughts of wasting more time.

They’d wasted too much already.

Back to deprivation again, which just might account for the urgency Dale felt right now, the need to thread his hands around her neck, tilt her head back just enough so he could plunge a little deeper, taste a little more. Her body rode his, all swells and hollows of sleek muscle, enticing him with the memory of the way her skin had felt beneath his hands, tempting him to shift his hips to ease the ache of another growing erection.