Falling for King's Fortune / Seduction, Westmoreland Style: Falling for King's Fortune

But as he shifted to break the kiss, she reached up, threaded her fingers through his hair and held him in place. Her mouth opened to him, inviting a deeper kiss, even as her fingers pulled hard enough at his hair to pull out several strands.

He jerked back, laughed shortly and said, “Ow.”

She blushed, bit down on her bottom lip and let her hand slide from the back of his head. “Sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper of sound that tugged at his insides. “Guess you bring out the wild in me.”

She was doing the same damn thing to him. Forget dinner. Forget getting to know each other. All he wanted at the moment was her under him. Over him. He’d never desired any woman so desperately as he did this one. And Jackson wasn’t a man to deny himself.

“I like wild,” he said and laid one hand on her knee, his fingertips sliding discreetly beneath the hem of that spectacular dress to touch her bare skin. “How wild are we talking?”

She took a breath, grabbed her clutch purse off the bar and dipped her hand inside as if she were looking for something. Then she snapped the bag closed again, lifted her gaze to his and said, “Um, I think maybe this was a mistake.”

“I think you’re wrong,” he said and smiled to himself as she jumped a little at the touch of his fingertips moving across her thigh. “I think you are feeling a little wild tonight. And I know I am.”

“Jackson…”

“Kiss me again.”

“There are people here,” she reminded him.

“Didn’t bother you a second ago.”

“Does now,” she said.

“Ignore them,” he coaxed. Not usually a man who liked an audience, he couldn’t care less about the sprinkling of people in the bar. He didn’t want to chance her cooling off, coming to her senses. He needed to kiss her again. To remind her what was sizzling between them. Besides, the lighting was so dim, and he and Casey were so far from anyone else, they might as well have been alone anyway. And right now, that was good enough.

Her gaze lifted to his and when he looked into her eyes, he saw her wavering. Good enough. Leaning in close to her again, he kept one hand on her leg, letting his fingers slide higher onto her thigh even as his mouth took hers again.

She inhaled sharply, deeply at the touch of his lips and an instant later, her inhibitions went out the window, just as he’d hoped they would. Her tongue tangled with his and when he leaned in closer, sliding his hand higher, she sighed into his mouth and shivered beneath his touch.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, when he’d managed to take his mouth from hers.

“I can’t.”

“Yes we can,” he said, fingers moving higher, higher up her thigh. She shifted instinctively, and he knew she was feeling the same burn he was. “I have a room upstairs.”

“Oh…” She took a breath, blew it out and shook her head. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Trust me, it’s the best idea I’ve had all day.” Abruptly, Jackson reached for his wallet, threw a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar, then tucked the wallet away again and took one of her hands in his. “Come with me.”

She looked up at him and even in the dim light, Jackson saw the sheen of something hot and needy in her eyes. She wasn’t going to refuse him. A moment later, she proved him right.

Standing up, she grabbed her clutch bag off the bar, and let him lead her from the room. He walked quickly, wanting to reach the elevator before she changed her mind. She kept up with him, the sound of her heels tapping out a quick rhythm on the floor that sounded like a frantic heartbeat.

Jackson wasted no time. The elevator doors dinged and swished open and he pulled his mystery woman inside. Before the doors were shut again, he turned her back to the wall and kissed her. His tongue swept inside, tangled with hers and he felt her surrender even as she lifted both arms to hook them around his neck. She held him close and arched her body into his as he pressed tighter and tighter to her.

Again and again, he ravaged her mouth and as he did, he shifted one hand, sliding up from her waist to cover one of her breasts. Even through the silky slide of the sapphire-blue fabric, he felt her erect nipple. Flicking its tender surface with his thumb, he listened to her moan and let that soft sound feed his own passions.

The doors opened again on the top floor and Jackson stepped back from her reluctantly. Her hair was a wild tumble, her eyes were glassy and her delicious mouth was puffy and swollen from his kisses. He wanted her desperately.

Heading down the hall, he opened the door to the suite that he kept, pulled her inside then slammed and locked the door again. In an instant, she was back in his arms.

No hesitation, no awkwardness, they came together as if they’d been touching each other for eternity. There were no games, only need. No shyness, only desire. No second thoughts, only a wild, frenzied passion blistering the air.

Jackson yanked the zipper of her dress and slid the shoulders and sleeves down her arms. He thanked whatever gods were listening that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were beautiful, just the right size and looked so tempting, he didn’t wait another moment.

Covering them with his hands, he pulled and tweaked with her hardened nipples and listened to Casey’s soft moans and whispers as if they were the sweetest music ever composed. He bent his head to taste first one erect bud and then the other and knew he had to have more of her.

Her hands at his shoulders tightened, holding him to her, even as she swayed from the impact of his actions.

“More,” he murmured, his tongue circling her nipple. “All.”

And he pushed her dress the rest of the way to the floor. It fell in a sapphire puddle at her feet and he helped her step out of it. Her fingers were at his suit coat now, shoving it off, then loosening his tie and tearing at the buttons of his shirt. His hands roamed over her amazing body, sliding over cool, lavender-scented skin again and again, as if he were trying to memorize every line, every curve.

Then her palms were on his naked chest and he felt the zing of heat slice into him. Quickly, he tore off the rest of his clothes, picked Casey up in his arms and carried her to the nearest flat surface. He wasn’t going to wait another moment. He had to have her. Be in her. Had to know what it was like to be surrounded by her heat.

“Now,” she whispered as he laid her down on the extra wide couch in the living room of the suite. She opened her legs for him, reached up her arms and in the pale wash of golden lamplight, her eyes burned an arctic blue. “Now, Jackson. I need…”

“Me too,” he admitted, willing to let her know just how affected he was by her. No games. No secrets. For this woman, this moment, he wanted her to know that from the first moment she’d smiled at him from across the room, he’d been aching for this.

Then the talking was over and all that was left to be said was said by their bodies. He entered her with one hard thrust and she gasped, arching into him, silently demanding he go deeper, harder, faster.

He did.

Every move she made only fed his need. Every response quickened the fires inside. Every touch, every slide of skin to skin, every gasp and moan and sigh worked together to push him higher than he’d ever been before. And Jackson wanted more.

He looked into her eyes when he felt her climax nearing. He watched as pleasure flashed across her face. He heard her gasp, felt her body’s tremors. Then she locked her legs around his hips to hold him tightly even as she rocked her hips and cried out his name.

Something inside Jackson burst wide open and seconds later, his body erupted, throwing him after her into the wild, surging storm.

Casey woke up in the middle of the night. Her body felt sore and stiff and, she silently admitted, fabulous. It had been a long time since she’d had sex. She’d almost forgotten how good it could make you feel.

Until the guilt started seeping in.

She wasn’t the one-night-stand kind of girl. She’d never done anything like this in her life and she was still trying to come to grips with the fact that she’d done it now.

Moonlight spilled into the hotel bedroom through the glass French doors leading to what she assumed was a balcony. She hadn’t really had a chance to explore the suite, after all. She’d gone from the couch to the bed and that was about the sum total of her “tour.”

God, Casey, what did you do?

Turning her head on the pillow, she looked at the sleeping man lying next to her. He was on his stomach, the silk duvet pulled up just over his hips. He had one arm stretched out toward her and Casey had to curl her fingers into her palms to keep from reaching out and smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead. In sleep, Jackson looked less dangerous, but hardly vulnerable.

There was still a hardness, a strength about him that seemed to resonate around him, even when sleeping. The man was a force of nature. She was lying there, naked and well used in his bed as a testament to that fact.

She hadn’t planned to have sex with him.

Although, what they’d shared couldn’t be called simply sex. Sex was just a biological function. At least, it always had been before that night. But what she’d shared with Jackson had gone way beyond anything she’d ever experienced before. Even now, hours after his last touch, her body was still humming. And that wasn’t a good thing.

Because she wasn’t looking for a relationship. Heck, she’d gotten what she’d come there for while they were still in the bar. How she’d allowed herself to end up in his bed was something she still wasn’t sure about.