Titles by Roni Loren
Crash Into You
Melt Into You
Fall Into You
Caught Up in You
Not Until You
Part I: Not Until You Dare
Part II: Not Until You Risk
Part III: Not Until You Crave
Part IV: Not Until You Trust
Part V: Not Until You Beg
Part VI: Not Until You Surrender
Part VII: Not Until You Believe
Part VIII: Not Until You Love
Specials
Still Into You
Not Until You
Part II
Not Until You Risk
Roni Loren
INTERMIX BOOKS, NEW YORK
INTERMIX BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
For more information about the Penguin Group visit penguin.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
NOT UNTIL YOU RISK
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / June 2013
Copyright © 2013 by Roni Loren.
Excerpt from Crash Into You copyright © 2012 by Roni Loren.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-62480-7
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group
and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Contents
Cover
Also by Roni Loren
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Special Excerpt from Crash Into You
About the Author
Chapter 6
I was in a cab on the way to a hotel with Foster and Pike. Foster and Pike. I kept blinking, staring out at the road in front of me, wondering if the whole scene was going to fade before my eyes. Maybe I’d passed out drunk in my apartment and was hallucinating. Could you hallucinate from alcohol? Because surely this couldn’t be me—Cela, the high school valedictorian, the no-I-can’t-go-out-tonight-because-I-have-to-study good girl. Nice girls like that didn’t get in a car with two sexy, older guys for a one-night stand—a one-night threesome. Shit. This was crazy.
Cuh-razy.
I’d never been so simultaneously excited and nervous in my entire life. But despite all the implications about what kind of girl this made me, I found myself desperately hoping that this wasn’t some dream, that it truly was real.
“You okay?” Foster asked me after giving the driver instructions.
I nodded, though the move felt stiff and jerky. “You bet.”
He chuckled quietly and settled in, his hand resting casually on my knee. His mouth dipped close to my ear. “Breathe, Cela.”
“Trying,” I whispered, my heart stuttering at the warm feel of his skin on mine. Pike stretched his arm over the back of the seat and sent me a reassuring smile.
I closed my eyes and inhaled a long, deep breath before opening them again. Surprisingly, it seemed to help a bit. Well, that and the fact that the guys seemed to refuse to let me be anxious for long. I expected the cab ride to be tense, the question—Am I really going to do this?—on thunderous repeat in my head. But with Foster’s hand caressing my thigh and Pike’s fingers teasing the hair at my nape, I was losing myself in the rising tide of hormones. The nerves were siphoning off with each gentle touch, each caress. And the question of Am I going to do this? transformed into if not now, why not? It wasn’t like I could find guys I was more attracted to. And they weren’t going to pressure me. If I didn’t like something or changed my mind, they would stop. I knew that in my gut. This was my chance to have a fantasy night, and I’d be stupid not to take advantage of it.
Internal pep talk complete, I relaxed against the seat, Foster’s and Pike’s body heat bookending me, their combined scents like bottled sex and man. Mmm.
Foster smiled down at me. “Feeling better?”
“Getting there,” I said as I closed my eyes, my voice taking on a dreamlike quality even to my own ears. No longer was I thinking of the past, my lack of experience, or what kind of girl this supposedly made me. All I was thinking about was twisted hotel sheets, naked skin, and feeling these two guys against me, on top of me . . . inside me. Even thinking those last two words gave me a hard shiver, a heady cocktail of desire and fear filtering through my blood.
Foster’s hand drifted higher, the strokes against my thigh deceptively light. If the cabbie turned and peeked back, Foster’s touch would look like an afterthought, casual. But the soft, circular glides were a silent, relentless assault on my starved libido. I ached for more, for the intensity I sensed lurking in this man. Foster’s touch moved even higher, and as if acting on their own volition, my knees parted a bit further than was appropriate.
I opened my eyes, surprised by my own involuntary response, and caught the hint of Foster’s smile in my peripheral vision. He kept his eyes forward as he asked the cab driver a question, but his pinky snuck beneath my dress and grazed my satin panties.
Oh, Lord. A hot ripple of heat sizzled up and outward. I bit my lip to keep from gasping. This was not happening. Couldn’t be.
Pike joined in the conversation with the driver—something about the basketball finals maybe—but I couldn’t be sure. My brain was in reboot.
Foster’s hand disappeared beneath my dress again, this time more boldly. If the driver really looked back now, he’d know something was up. I set my purse on my knees, blocking the view. Foster’s fingertip dragged across the damp satin, finding my hot button through the thin fabric and circling around it.
My muscles tensed like I’d been Tasered, and my fingernails curled into the leather of my purse. Pike’s hand cupped my neck and squeezed, letting me know that even if he was carrying on a mundane conversation, he knew exactly what Foster was doing to me and how my body was responding.
Foster stroked me through the fabric once, twice—knowing exactly where to touch. I tried not to squirm in the seat. My body was near detonation already after what had happened on the dance floor. I hadn’t been touched like this by anyone other than myself in years. And, God, how many times had I fantasized about this very guy being the one to do it? I wasn’t going to be able
to hold it together.
And apparently he didn’t want me to, because before I could even catch another breath, he was moving aside the fabric. The pad of his finger brushed embarrassingly slippery skin and dipped lower, finding my entrance. He slipped one long finger inside. I did gasp this time, unable to hold it back, but Pike conveniently coughed over the sound.
Foster moved his finger back to my clitoris, gliding over me with the exact amount of pressure that offered pleasure but not release. I had to fight hard not to make a sound, while Foster continued his calm conversation. “Can you take a left? It’s the longer way, but I don’t want to get caught in that overnight construction.”
“No problem,” the cabbie said.
“And do you mind turning up this song?” Pike asked. “I love this band.”
The music filled the cab, and Foster’s teasing touches turned purposeful. I curled my lips inward, a moan building in my throat. Oh, God. If he didn’t stop, I was going to climax right here in the cab. Loudly, if my lungs had anything to do with it.
He leaned close to me, his words barely audible against my ear. “Come for me, Cela. Let’s scratch something off that Never Have I Ever list of yours.”
His finger dipped inside me again, his thumb strumming my clit, and everything went white behind my eyes. Oh, God, oh, God. I turned my head, my lips parting, as the orgasm crashed over me. I wasn’t going to be able to stay quiet. But before a sound could slip past, a hot mouth was on me, my cry swallowed by Pike’s kiss.
My mind went blank, and inhibition dropped from me like a snapped anchor. I tumbled into the moment, the touch, the kiss. My body fluttered around Foster’s fingers, begging for more, for the real thing. And I poured that need into the kiss with Pike.
“Hotel’s right around the corner,” the cabbie said, clearing his throat and yanking me from my slow drift back down to earth. “Do you need to go through the lobby entrance or are you heading to their wine bar?”
“The lobby,” Foster said, tracing his fingers along my inner thigh again.
Pike eased away from our kiss, his gaze hooded. “The next one’s mine.”
My brain and body were buzzing in some lust-laced haze when I turned to face forward, and everything was hot, flush. Foster’s hand was back in his lap, but the bulge in his jeans was prominent. After a few breaths to return my breathing to normal, I demurely straightened my dress, then reached out and squeezed Foster’s knee in silent thanks—almost afraid to look at him because I knew I’d lose my stoic facade.
He lowered his head next to mine as the car rounded a corner and nuzzled the shell of my ear, sending a hot ripple down my left side. “That was beautiful, angel. I love feeling your fear slip from you as you let your desire take over. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she wants and has the guts to ask for it.”
I closed my eyes, letting the warm honey of his voice slide over me.
“The Hotel St. Mark,” the driver announced.
“We’re going to make this very good for you, Cela,” Foster promised, and then Pike was taking my hand, helping me out of the cab, and leading me into the vast unknown.
Pike steered me with a hand on my back into the lavish lobby of the St. Mark. Unlike the modern lines of the club we’d just left or the sleek hotels that filled this part of downtown Dallas, this building had the look of lovingly cared-for historical opulence—inlaid marble tile, rich dark wood furniture, and a grand staircase that would make a bride-to-be weep.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” I whispered, feeling as if I needed to keep my voice down, lest the building realize I was far too small town to be staying in a place so elegant.
Foster smiled down at me as we made our way over to the front desk. “Glad you approve. I book all of my out-of-town clients here.”
Clients? The statement was like a one-two punch of reality. My step stuttered.
Both guys paused, as if totally in tune with my every movement. “Everything okay?” Pike asked.
I glanced between the two of them. “Yes. Fine. I just . . .”
“Go ahead,” Foster said, giving a nod of encouragement.
“Well, I just realized two things. One, there’s no way I could afford to pay for even half a room here. And, two, I have no idea what you do for a living, Foster.”
Foster leveled a gaze at me. “First, you won’t pay for anything, ever. So let’s get that out of the way.”
“But—”
He put a finger to my lips, my scent still on him. “That part is non-negotiable. Secondly, I own a tech company called 4N Solutions.”
My eyebrows lifted. He owned a company? And he shared an apartment in my complex? Either he was very bad at his job, very frugal, or something else was going on there. Maybe he had a lot of college debt or a greedy ex-wife or child support to pay. The last couple of thoughts had my lungs constricting.
“You’re panicking again, doc,” Pike said softly.
Foster lowered his hand. “Cela, if you need to ask more questions, need to know us better before we do this, just say the word. We can go to the bar and talk . . . or even go home if you want.”
I swallowed past the knot in my throat. What did it matter if he had an ex or even if he had kids? This was not the start of a relationship. This was not a compatibility test. This was sex. A fun, hot diversion before I moved home. I knew I was safe with them, and God knows I was attracted to them. Those were the only must-haves for this type of thing.
I nodded. “I’m okay. Maybe y’all can help me shut off my overanalytical brain.”
Pike grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
He slipped an arm around my waist and gave my hip a squeeze, instantly easing that last coup of my old self.
Foster stopped at the front desk and gave the pretty blonde behind the desk his name. “We’ll need a suite for the night.”
“Absolutely, Mr. Foster,” the woman said in that elegant, library-quiet voice that luxury hotel employees must practice. She tapped on her keyboard with long fingernails, then looked up, taking in the three people standing in front of her. “Two queens?”
“Just a king,” Foster said smoothly.
“Of course.” The woman’s lips pressed together, and her gaze slid over to mine.
I braced for the impact, but where I expected judgment, I found envy in the other woman’s eyes. Huh.
Three key cards appeared on the granite countertop. “You’ll be on the top floor to the right. Is there anything else I can help you with? I’m about to go on break, I could show you to your room if you’d like.”
I heard an extra dose of suggestion in the seemingly innocuous statement, but Foster’s response was swift, his smile painstakingly polite. “No thank you . . .” He glanced at her nametag. “Tabitha. We have everything we need.”
Foster grabbed my hand and gathered me to his side. “Come on, angel. I have a feeling the view upstairs is going to be fantastic.”
Oh, I had no doubt. The thought of seeing these two naked had crossed my mind so many times, I could paint a detailed portrait of what I imagined was beneath their clothes. But as the elevator loomed in front of us, my conscience niggled at me, urging me to tell the guys the whole truth about my Never Have I Ever list. I hadn’t put anything on that list that wasn’t true. But like any former Catholic school girl knew, lies of omission were just as bad as blatant ones.
The gold doors of the elevator dinged, and Pike took a quick step forward to hold the door open for me and Foster. We slipped into the elevator, and Pike followed, along with an older couple who were deeply involved in their discussion of the symphony they’d seen earlier. As the gray-haired lady tried to convince her husband that the tickets had been worth the price, I pressed my back against the side of the elevator, holding the rail behind me and listening to the warring factions in my head.
Pike glanced down at my
tight grip on the rail, then nudged me with his shoulder. “Got a fear of elevators, doc?”
I made a weird sound—some hybrid of a nervous laugh and a snort. Totally attractive no doubt. “Not quite.”
Our ascent slowed, and the doors opened to the other couple’s floor. The lady offered a cursory good-night to everyone, then stepped out with her husband, leaving me alone with the two guys and my thoughts.
Pike stayed where he was, but Foster crossed over to the other side and turned to face me. “Cela, look at me.”
With a sigh, I dragged my gaze upward.
“Tell me what you need from us. I’m not stepping out of this elevator if I think you’re going to be white-knuckling your way through this. I want you to enjoy tonight.”
I held his stare, willing myself to say something, anything. The last thing I wanted to do was go home. But I also couldn’t bring myself to tell him what was knotting me up. Speak, my brain shouted. The loud ding of the elevator was like a clap of thunder in the silence. The doors slid open with a smooth whir.
Foster reached out and pressed the Door Open button but made no other move. Pike glanced at me, questions in his eyes. Neither of them were going to step out until I said something.
I wet my lips, and my throat seemed to narrow. Panic was edging in now that the moment was here. No, no, no. Don’t back out now. I thought back to the cab, the way I’d felt when Foster had touched me, and how he’d taken what he wanted without asking. The shock of that had shut down my brain, had pulled me deep into those minutes and scared off any errant thoughts. It’d just been a taste, but I wanted more of that, more of that free fall.
I forced my fingers off of the bar behind me. If I was going to jump, I couldn’t keep ahold of anything. My eyes stayed focused on Foster, on the commanding set of his jaw. “I had a bad experience the last time I was . . . with a guy. I fumbled a bit, things were awkward, and he made fun of me. Not in a playful way.”
Anger flared in Foster’s eyes. “What an asshole.”
“And an idiot,” Pike offered.