It Started with No Strings...

She swallowed. ‘I forgot to ask—do you have, um, protection?’

‘Yeah. Though I guess I ought to check it’s in date.’

She blinked. ‘You’re seriously telling me that a hot guy like you …’ She stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry. None of my business. No questions.’

Meaning, he thought, that she didn’t want him to ask questions, either. That moment when she’d looked sad in the salsa club and then claimed that she was celebrating … Whatever the reason, she clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

And it suited him just fine—because he didn’t want to talk about emotional stuff, either.

‘Thank you for the compliment,’ he said, focusing on the bit that wasn’t going to rake across any raw edges. ‘I guess I ought to let you know that I don’t normally invite women I’ve only just met back to my flat.’ He stroked her face. ‘And I’m pretty sure you don’t normally accept invitations from men you’ve only just met.’

‘I don’t.’ She shook her head.

So why him? Why tonight?

No questions.

Ask nothing, and you’ll hear no lies. And you won’t be expected to answer anything, either, he reminded himself.

He rummaged in his bedside drawer and checked the date on the packet of condoms. ‘We’re safe.’ He paused. ‘Though if you’d rather I left the room so you could get dressed while I call you a taxi, that’s fine—I’m not the kind of man who’d ever force a woman to do something she didn’t want to do.’

‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘Or I wouldn’t have agreed to come here with you.’

Funny how her confidence in him warmed him. It almost felt as if something had cracked around the region of his heart. Though he was pretty sure the permafrost would be too deep for that. This was about pleasure, not emotions. He’d make this good for her. Good for himself, too. And then he’d drive her home, they’d say goodbye, and the chances of their paths crossing again in a city of nearly eight million people were pretty remote. They’d just get on with their lives. And he could go back to doing what he always did: getting on just fine with people, fitting in with the crowd on the surface, and not letting himself get too close to anyone.

‘Don’t think,’ she said softly.

Meaning that she didn’t want to think, either? He was pretty sure that she was running from something; and he appreciated that she didn’t want to discuss it. Because he sure as hell didn’t want to discuss what was ricocheting round his head.

‘No thinking,’ he agreed, and kissed her.

And it was easier not to think when he was touching her. Easier just to feel, to lose himself in pleasure.

He pushed the duvet aside, then lifted her up and laid her against the pillows.

She stroked his cheek and smiled at him. ‘Aaron.’

He kissed her again, then hooked his thumbs into the sides of her knickers and drew them down. She lifted her bottom slightly so he could remove them easily.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said again. ‘And I really want to touch you.’

‘Then do it,’ she commanded softly.

He dipped his head and nuzzled the hollows of her collar bones. She arched back against the bed and he moved lower, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. She slid her hands into his hair, urging him on.

He kissed his way down over her abdomen, then shifted to kneel between her legs. She dragged in a breath as he took one ankle and slowly stroked his way upwards, letting his mouth follow the path of his fingers; and she was almost hyperventilating when he kissed his way along her inner thigh. Which was just what he wanted; right now he wanted to make them both forget everything except this.

‘Aaron, yes,’ she whispered as his tongue stroked along her sex.

He teased her, flicking the tip of her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, taking it harder and faster until she was almost whimpering in need, then slowing it right down again and letting it build up and up again. He could feel the second that she climaxed, her body tightening beneath his mouth; he held her there for a long, glorious moment, and then ripped open the foil packet, slid on the condom, and pushed into her.

He could still feel the aftershocks of her climax rippling through her. He loved the idea that he’d managed to turn this gorgeous woman to complete mush.

‘Aaron,’ she whispered, and he held still, letting her body adjust to the feel of him inside her.

‘I wanted the first time to be for you,’ he said softly.

Her eyes filled with tears, as if she wasn’t used to being considered like that, and he wanted to punch the guy who’d made her think her feelings weren’t important. Right at that moment he had a pretty good idea what she’d been running from and why her confidence in herself was so low.

Well, he could make her feel better. And at the same time he could make himself feel better, too.

‘No thinking,’ he said, and began to move.

She wrapped her legs round him to draw him deeper and tensed her muscles round him.

‘That’s so good,’ he groaned.

She smiled, and did it again.

‘Do you know what I really want?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘You on top of me. With that glorious hair falling over both of us.’

She looked slightly shocked. ‘You like my hair?’

How could she not know how glorious her hair was? ‘I love your hair.’

She smiled, and let him roll with her so that he was lying on his back and she was straddling him. Then she moved over him and tipped her head forward so her hair fell over them, just as he’d asked.

And the reality was even better than his fantasy.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said. ‘Totally gorgeous.’

She seemed to like being the one in control; she teased him the way he’d teased her earlier, letting the pressure build to almost fever pitch and then easing off just a little, then letting it build again.

By the time he climaxed, he was near to hyperventilating.

He felt her hit the peak again at the same time, so he wrapped his arms round her and held her tightly until it had all ebbed away.

‘I’d better deal with the condom,’ he said finally.

She nodded. ‘And I guess I ought to get dressed and call a cab.’

He glanced at his bedside clock. ‘At this time of the morning?’

She looked at the time, too, and grimaced. ‘I suppose it’s a little late.’