His eyes narrowed, and his senses reeled. Her response, her touch, shocked him and set him on fire. “For what?”
“I thought meeting Williams, talking about the crimes so like those involving Hudson, would be harder than it was. It’s strange, but just being with you somehow made things easier.” She looked down at her lap as if she wasn’t sure how he was going to respond.
Using his index finger, he tilted her chin up so he could see the expression in her eyes. And so she could see his. He knew what she would see in them. But it was what he saw in hers that took his breath away. Emotions, raw and hot, danced in her gaze, there for his viewing. Now, while she was in this mood, he wanted all he could get from her. “That was a major confession for you, wasn’t it? To admit needing me?”
She nodded, her lips trembling. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw fear in her eyes. He smiled at her, intent on making it go away. “Well,” he said, “guess what?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’m damned honored.”
Her face was blank for a moment before her lush, tempting, sexy-as-hell lips curled into a smile. Her hand moved to his cheek, cupping it. There was something so tender about the action, it pressed him over the edge. With a low growl, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him, their mouths so near their breath intermingled. “I want you more than I remember ever wanting a woman.”
“You do?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
Her reply was so soft he barely heard it. “I want you, too.”
He absorbed the words as he would a needed breath of air, taking them in, and allowing them to fuel his desire. His lips brushed hers, once, twice, a third time⎯soft, tender, and passion-driven. She tasted like wine and a special something that was simply, perfectly her. With sensual strokes, their tongues met, languidly caressing each other.
His hands cupped her face as he pulled back to look into her eyes, dipping his head for one more taste. He slid his hands down her neck and started making soft circles with his thumbs. This woman was connected to him in some way beyond Williams, beyond Paxton, and beyond understanding.
For now, he just wanted to experience all that they could be together, here, now, tonight.
* * * * *
Lindsey rested her hands on his chest and allowed her head to slowly roll backwards. Her breasts tingled with his nearness, making her wish he would move his hands. Thinking she could deny herself this amazing man had been crazy. His lips pressed against the sensitive flesh of her neck, making a shiver of desire dance along her skin.
She wanted this, wanted him . . .
He nuzzled her ear, his tongue and teeth both touching the lobe. “I can’t begin to explain what you do to me.”
Lindsey pulled back a bit, wanting to see into those fascinating brown eyes of his. She liked knowing he wanted her. This gorgeous, sexy man wanted her. Of course she had seen desire in a man’s eyes before . . . but not the live, heated burn she saw in Mark’s. “Tell me why you want me, Mark?” She looked at him, waiting for his answer. For some reason, she needed to know.
Maybe she wanted him to say something wrong, to push her so she could run. Deep down she knew she was scared of Mark, of his powerful nature, and the way it resembled other men in her life. Yet . . . he was tender, and sensitive, and made her feel respected but still sexy. Was it real or just a good act, this way he treated her?
“I wish I could answer that question,” he told her, and there was so much honesty in his voice and eyes, it made her stomach flip-flop.
She so wished she knew the answer as well. Right now, she wanted Mark, and she wanted him in a way that went beyond words. No more holding back. He’d passed her test. “Mark,” she said, and the one word said so much. It was packed with her desire.
She moved then, rotating so that she straddled him. His hands went to her hips, helping her settle on top of him, feeling the evidence of his arousal. Their eyes locked, and the knowledge of what was to come passed between them and gave her a rush of pure heat. And it empowered her. This take-charge man was now here, under her control, and she liked it.
She bent her head, and let her lips linger above his, feeling the warmth of his breath as it touched her mouth. But she didn’t kiss him. Instead, she trailed her lips along his jaw, and then further to his neck, her nose flaring with his very male, very provocative smell.
Moving her lips near his ear, she whispered, “Why, Mark?” She flicked his earlobe with her tongue before leaning back to see his face. “Why do you want me? I want to know.”
His hands settled on her cheeks, his eyes holding hers. “You want to know why, Lindsey?”
“Yes, tell me.” Her voice had a breathless quality.
His voice was a deep, sensual play on her nerve endings. “It’s way beyond your looks, but I think you know that.”
She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. He simply took her by storm. Her intention had been to take control of this night. Instead, it felt more as if she had given it away. But it wasn’t a bad feeling like it had been in the past. With Mark, it felt . . . different.
“But you know you’re beautiful,” he said as his thumb moved across her bottom lip. “I know you do.”
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks. She hated being told she was attractive. The corporate world had taught about politics and manipulation, and often looks played a key role. She hated it. “No,” she whispered.
“Look at me,” he said gently. She forced her eyes to meet his. “How can you say no?”
She wasn’t going to explain. “Kiss me,” she said instead.
He seemed as if he might refuse, but then his hands were in her hair, his lips pressed to hers, warm and wonderful, making her forget the past, and the future. Now was all that mattered. Their lips connected first, pressed together as if they were absorbing the very essence of the other. She felt the moment in every inch of her body. Her nipples tightened, and her body seemed to melt.
Then his tongue slid into her mouth, sliding against hers in a slow move meant to savor, not tease. One stroke after the next, they tasted one another, slow and hot. His hands slid beneath her shirt, and along her back. Her hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, to his chest, pressing against him as their kisses seemed to deepen, their bodies molding together just as their mouths were.
Her need for him intensified, and her hands moved along the fine lines of his muscular body, and settled at his tie. “Take it off,” she whispered against his lips, and then leaned back to make eye contact. “And the shirt.”
He reached for the knot, his stare bold, and fierce with passion. “You too,” he said.
“You first,” she responded, grabbing hold of the moments of control she could. Something told her with Mark, she would have to take them where she could get them. She reached for his buttons, starting with the bottom ones. He pulled his tie from his collar as she said, “I’ll help.”
His hands fell to his sides as he willingly let her take over the task. There was a huge part of her that wanted to grab the shirt and rip the buttons loose. Another wanted to savor each inch of skin as it was exposed. Dark hair ran from his belt to his navel and she ran her finger over it, eager to explore. The action seemed to make him grow impatient, and he finished off the buttons. She shoved the material aside, fingers flattening on his chest, feeling the soft hair that invited her touch.
“Now you,” he said, his hands going to hers. “Now you.” This time there was a challenge, even a dare, in his voice. As if he thought she was afraid to act.
She reached for the bottom of her shirt, and, in one easy move, pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor. His eyes dropped to her breasts, and without looking she could feel her nipples pucker against the thin ivory lace, responding to his stare as they might his touch. Or perhaps begging for it.
He took both his index fingers and ran them in a barely-there touch along the lace framing her breasts. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze on his
fingers, or rather what they touched.
Before she knew his intentions, he pulled the silk down and exposed her nipples. Sucking in a breath of air, she whimpered as his fingers pinched and teased. Her lashes fell shut, her head tilting backwards.
And then his mouth was on one, warm as it suckled, sending waves of pleasure to her breasts and along her skin. Her hands moved into his hair, cupping his face. Without warning, Mark rolled her to her back, using his legs to part hers, and settling between them. His mouth was on her, his tongue hungrily sliding against hers, his body pressed into hers.
Her leg slid over his, trying to pull him closer. For long minutes, she was lost in his kisses, his flavor, his touch . . . . but in some far recess of her mind she registered a knocking on the door. “Mark?” Lindsey murmured against his lips, only to find herself thoroughly kissed again.
“Mark,” she whispered, his teeth nipping her bottom lip. “The door.”
“They’ll leave,” he said, pushing his weight to his elbows, and staring down at her, and then making a low sound before kissing her again. She tried to keep a hold of reality, but his hand cupped her breast, and kneaded, pulling her back into the haze of their heat.
But the doorbell rang, and then someone knocked. “Mark, you better get it.”
Mark buried his head in her shoulder. “Damn it.”
She ran her hand through his hair, urging him to look at her. When his eyes lifted to hers, she said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes flashed with debate, and then he sighed and pushed to his feet, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as he walked towards the door.
Lindsey sat up, trying to gather her thoughts. She tugged her bra back into place and put her shirt back on. As she moved to sit on the couch, she could hear Mark exchanging words with a man at the door. A few seconds, later he returned, eyes taking in her replaced clothing, as he sat the bags on the table.
Mark reached for her hand, and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s finish what we started in the bedroom.” She let him pull her into his arms and kiss her, a slow exploration that promised so much more to come.
Then he led her towards his room, and she followed. Anticipation burned inside, making her both eager for what was to come, and also nervous. It had been a long time since she had been with a man, and never before had it felt quite so exposing but yet liberating. Mark seemed as if he could make love to not only her body, but her mind.
The bedroom was lit by the moon and stars shining through a full wall of ceiling-to-floor windows. The shadows in the room seemed to add to the intimacy as she looked towards the massive bed framed with four huge posts, and covered in mounds of blankets.
Stopping beside it, Mark turned to her, his hands going to her waist. “I would love to have you laying naked right in the center of my bed.”
Her brow lifted. “Would you, now?”
He nodded. “Very much,” he said and lifted her so that she sat on the side of the bed, then nudged her legs apart, urging her back to the mattress. He leaned over her, palms pressed into the mattress. “What do you want, Lindsey?”
Her voice was slight. His words had her warm with possibilities . . . “You naked with me,” she said, as her arms went around his neck. “Can I have my wish?”
He kissed her then, his mouth closing over hers, hot and demanding. All she could think was more. She wanted more. It would never be enough. She tasted him with frenzied, burning need, her tongue sliding against his, savoring the flavor. His flavor. So male. So unique. So addictive.
They shuffled, minds working within a shared desire, shifting farther onto the bed. His hands were all over her, moving up her blouse, flat on her bare skin. “Take this off,” he said hoarsely.
“Okay,” she whispered, “but you too. Take yours off.” On second thought, “Take it all off.”
He stared down at her, their eyes locking and holding. She felt a connection then, something that made her aroused from head to toe, but it was so much deeper than just physical. Or was it? Could they have an attraction so potent that a mere stare could make her sizzle from head to toe?
She could hardly catch her breath. What she felt, so raw and alive, scared her, made her feel out of control. Desperate to gain control, trying to break the spell that was taking it, she said, “Get undressed.”
His gaze narrowed a moment, as if he knew what she was doing, but he didn’t argue. He pushed to his knees and started unbuttoning his shirt. She sat up and pulled her shirt over her head as he tossed his aside . . . She stared at the perfection of his broad chest, the sprinkling of light brown hair, and perfect biceps, with admiration.
She wet her lips, feeling the urgency to explore, to touch, to feel. But he moved. She wanted to reach for him, but he pushed off the bed. Before she could complain, he halted her words, as he bent and took off his shoes. She liked the direction this was going. Her boots were gone in mere seconds, tossed to the floor, and drawing laughter from Mark.
He smiled. “Don’t stop there.”
“You either,” she said, smiling through the heat of desire, wanting to say, be fast about it. Instead, she quickly slid her pants down her legs, leaving her panties in place.
She looked up to find him gloriously naked, and . . . hard. Swallowing took effort. He was gorgeous. Leaning back on her palms she watched as his knees hit the mattress. He stayed that way, gently urging her legs apart. His eyes dropped to her legs, and slowly moved to the center and settled on the tiny piece of lace. Then, on the move again, they traveled up her stomach, and to her breasts.
When his eyes finally settled on hers, she was wet with desire, feeling as if she had been completely, seductively touched. “You are so beautiful,” he said, with obvious arousal etching his low voice.
His palms, which still rested on her knees, began to move, sliding up her thighs in a seductive caress. When his hands reached the top of her legs, he slid his thumbs on her inner thighs, moving them so that they brushed the silk covering. The effect was like a jolt of pleasure dancing along each and every nerve ending of her body.
“Mark,” she whispered. He looked at her. “Please come here.”
“Not yet,” he said, his thumbs stroking her panties, and then dipping beneath to touch her sensitive core. Then he bent, taking her off guard as his lips pressed on her stomach. She fell back on the mattress, letting the soft cushion absorb the impact of her body, hands going to his hair just as his tongue dipped into her navel. At the same moment, his hands went to her panties, pulling them over her hips and down her legs. She kicked them off as his mouth traveled upward, mouth closing over her bra, teeth scraping her nipple through the lace even as his fingers popped the front clasp.
Moments later his hands were covering her breasts, his lips pressing to hers. All her promises to control how they came together were gone. She was lost in him, begging for more, unable to stop herself. Her body arched into his, his arousal nuzzling her thighs, his fingers pinching her nipples until she whimpered into his mouth.
His lips trailed along her jaw, to her ear. “You make me crazy, Lindsey,” he whispered.
She made a sound of pleasure as he nipped her lobe. “You’re making me crazy.”
He moved so that his lips lingered just above hers. “Good,” he said, and his eyes locked with hers. “Then we’re even.”
Something about the way he said the words made her hand go to his cheek. “What?” She blinked, trying to clear her passion-fogged mind.
“You and me,” he said. “We’re even. I want you. You want me.”
It was as if he sensed her need to have some semblance of control. “Yes,” she said. “I want you.”
“And I want you, Lindsey.” His words were packed with emotion. “Very much. From the first moment I met you.”
“You did?”
“I did,” he said, the air around them heavy with their breathing, their desire, their shared emotions.
In that moment, she wanted to share her feelings. Wanted him
to know what he did to her. In that moment, thoughts of later, of control, of beyond that moment simply didn’t exist. “I wanted you, too.”
His lips brushed hers in a soft, delicate caress. “And now?” he asked. “Do you want me?”
Her lashes fluttered to her cheeks, and then lifted. “You know I do.”
One of his hands moved to her hair, and his other slid to his erection. He slid it along her wet, sensitive flesh, drawing a whimper, then a sigh. Her eyes fluttered shut, as he teased them both, sliding his hard length back and forth like a sensual game of pleasure. One that built need and urgency, and when she thought she could take no more, he dipped the tip of his penis inside her.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp of pleasure as he slowly slid deep, until he was completely inside her, and they rested together as one. He kissed her long and deep, but slow. She clung to him, one leg moving over his, her hand going to his back.
His hips lifted and he began a slow rhythm . . . in and out, kissing her, his tongue mimicking the movement of his body. For long minutes, they clung, touched, explored with their hands, their bodies, their mouths. But then it changed. Their kisses grew hotter, deeper, and the intensity fierce. They were pressing themselves against one another as if they wanted to get beneath each other’s skin, passion gone wild, bodies moving as one, together, harder and harder, and faster and faster.
And suddenly, Lindsey was in the bittersweet climb to the top of the waterfall . . . ready to fall over the edge into satisfaction, but not wanting to let go of the moment. She called his name, arching her hips into him, as she silently begged for the moment to last.
And then it happened. The first spasm literally made her body shake, and words, even sounds, were impossible. It felt as if her body absorbed him as her own. She heard him moan, and call her name, and then he shuddered and shook. She was easing into the aftermath as he entered his moment of utter pleasure.
His head tilted back, his eyes shut.
One last lunge into her body, and he buried himself deep, his face moving to slide against hers . . . and her name whispered on his lips.