In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare

‘What you say to me,’ he said through even more tightly clenched teeth, ‘does not help.’

‘You want me to shut up?’

He looked at her for a long time and then suddenly smiled, the tension in his face altering from strained to wicked—but still edgy. Had he won whatever battle it was he was having with himself? ‘Yeah—why don’t you just come and take what you want?’

‘All right.’ She rose to her knees and crawled the half-metre to sit astride him.

He lifted his face to look her in the eye. She saw the mix of molten fury and desire as she rocked herself over the tip of his erection a few times. She’d known it would be good, but she hadn’t expected this kind of blistering, on-the-edge passion. Equal parts anger and hunger and helpless humour.

She put her hands on his shoulders, her fingers spread wide, but still not big enough to curl right around them. That didn’t matter. She could use them as leverage anyway. And she pushed down hard as she took him in to his hilt.

His hands were pressed hard into the floor, and she pushed harder on him as she lifted her hips and ground back down. The sensation was outrageously awesome as she slid up off him and then slammed back down. Slow and deep and again and again.

He said nothing. Nor did she. But she felt the way he was forcing his breathing to stay regular. She smiled, watching him watching her breasts sway with her rhythm. She touched them, cupping them in her hands and presenting her taut nipples to his lips.

His hands lifted, tight on her thighs, and he tasted—as she wanted. She laughed, drunk on the excitement of seeing him so desperate for her.

His hands suddenly tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, his tongue rampaging into her mouth, not letting her go and giving no respite from the ferocious, powerful kisses. She half moaned, half hummed with ecstasy into his mouth as he started thrusting up to meet her—making the ride even more incredible.

The thrill rolled in on unstoppable waves, crashing over her, tossing her into a pleasure-filled place that was so captivating she alternately held her breath and then gasped for relief as they ground closer and closer again. And then she could no longer move, no longer control the ride. Her senses, her sanity crumbled under the onslaught of pure, unbearable ecstasy. His arms tightened as she quivered and then shuddered in the throes of an orgasm like no other.

As it ebbed he moved, flipping her over, crushing her beneath him. And pounded. Sliding further and harder into her heat. She clamped on him, arched up every time to pull him closer still and not let him go. With every surge of friction she was driven back to the brink. She cried out helplessly—wanting a rest but desperate for more. His breathing rasped in her ears, melding with her own broken entreaties as she chanted his name again and again. They were way past the boundaries of civility, burning now with raw, instinctive need. Blinded by sensations, beyond reason, just desperate and aching and frantic for final fulfilment.

Nothing had ever felt as amazing as him driving into her with such magnificent masculinity. Nothing could ever surpass this moment. He lifted her higher and higher with his ferocious force, filling her with power and strength and pure, sweet joy.

Her scream cracked as it became too much to bear. He reared up, grinding forward in one last, fierce long thrust, roaring his own satisfaction, tossing her body once more into convulsions of rapture and her mind into blank bliss.

Even though she could see again, she kept her eyes shut, flinging her arm over her eyes to hide awhile longer. He was close by, still half on top of her, but he’d tumbled slightly to the side so he didn’t crush her. So she could breathe.

But she couldn’t. Her heart galloped. She felt the vibrations of his heart thudding too, and his harsh breathing as they both fought to recover as fast as possible.

She didn’t think she’d ever recover. Her whole body throbbed. Sweat slid. Her lips were so well used she was almost bruised.

An aftershock made her tremble uncontrollably. She felt his body flinch in response—and hold for a moment. But his tension didn’t ease. And hers grew all the more.

Silently he took his weight on his hands and withdrew from her body.

‘Excuse me a minute,’ he muttered.

She didn’t answer, didn’t move as she listened to his footsteps recede. Then she peeped past her elbow. Empty room. Quickly she sat up and reached for her tee shirt, slipped it down as best she could. Her panties were wet and cold. Most of her was wet and cold—all heat sucked away by some giant invisible vacuum cleaner the moment he’d left the room.

Yeah, whoever it was who reckoned that sex dispelled tension was wrong. Because it was so much worse now. And not just tension—terror. What the hell had she been thinking? Rising panic sent her pulse frantic, threatening to burst her eardrums.

She struggled to her feet, stuffed her knickers into a rollerblade boot and tried to descrunch her leggings enough to be able to pull them back on. Hell, she had to get out of there as fast as possible—no way could she hold herself together if she got close to him some more. No wonder those woman wanted to warn others—he was unbelievable, and all she wanted was every bit of him, every star in the whole fantasy dream.

‘Regretting it already?’

She looked up, Ethan was on the edge of the room, watching her uncoordinated movements with a towel slung round his hips and a frown on his face.

‘You know you were the one grinding on my hand in the middle of a public park.’ He stepped closer.

Her pulse went supersonic. She was shocked by his bluntness. She couldn’t bear to look at his darkened eyes, or his sculpted, glistening torso, so she looked at the floor and tried to get back to decent. ‘You put your hand in my pants in the first place.’

‘I was merely pointing out how vulnerable you are.’

‘You couldn’t resist touching.’

‘Because you were gagging for it.’

She stumbled as she tried to yank her leggings up, hopping on one foot with no dignity left whatsoever. She gave in. ‘Yes, you live up to your reputation Ethan. You must be feeling very satisfied.’

‘Absolutely not.’

Nonplussed, she shut up and sent him a wary glance. He looked grim.

‘Don’t you dare insinuate that I took advantage of you,’ he said, his temper clearly fraying as badly as hers.

But she had to play it very cool, very sophisticated, and hide the fact her heart was still beating louder than a jackhammer and about to burst out of her mouth. ‘I wasn’t going to. You know I wanted it, Ethan. And I enjoyed it.’ She shrugged as if it had all been nothing. ‘And now I should get going.’

‘Because you’ve had what you wanted?’ he said bitterly. ‘So what? You’re going to go home and write about it?’

She froze, abandoning the hunt for her bra. She’d hadn’t given a thought to the damn blogs and their little online war. This was nothing to do with that—this had been so much more to her than she’d realised even two hours ago.

The frown thundered across his brow as he obviously took her hesitation as affirmation of guilt.

‘Don’t write it,’ he said.

Nadia turned away from him and picked up her rollerblades, knowing she’d just found the way to end it with him. To escape completely. ‘But its popularity is skyrocketing.’

‘It’s that important to you?’

‘Yes, my website is very important to me. This was just a fling.’

‘You’re going to detail it, then?’

‘No.’

‘So you’re going to fabricate what you put on there?’

He thought she was going to embroider on all this? He had to be joking. She turned back to glare at him. ‘Are you setting me up?’

‘So little trust, Nadia,’ he said coolly. ‘When you just let me right inside you.’

Yeah, that had been utter madness. ‘I’m keeping on writing.’

‘Then so am I.’

She swallowed. ‘It’ll be my perspective. Honest.’ And with zero detail.