For the Win

  I knew the feeling well. I faced him and his hand dropped from my hair. I stepped out of my dress and he bent to pick it up, then draped it over the back of a chair. I waited until he turned back to me to reach around and unhook my strapless bra. When it fell loose, I flung it so it landed on that same chair. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I slipped off my underwear and kicked it in the same direction. Now I was clothed only in the reflection of the fireplace flames and his hot gaze that slid over me.

  Jordan, on the other hand, was still completely clothed. His partially unbuttoned white shirt, his suit pants--complete with taut bulge at the front. Even his shoes. As if reading my mind, he slid them off. Then he finished unbuttoning his shirt and dropped it on top of my discarded clothing on the chair. His biceps bulged with the action and the planes of his chest gleamed in the amber glow. I imagined feeling that hard, bare chest against mine. Skin rubbing on skin. My nipples hardened to points, and though his hand had dropped to his belt, he came over to me instead, pulling me firmly against him.

  "You are so fucking beautiful," he said. My hands went up to his chest, feeling every hard muscle, tracing every crease. My head dipped to do what I'd been craving ever since I'd seen him in the doorway of his beach house wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks. I licked him, my mouth tracing the line of his collarbone, and he hissed out a breath. I felt him surge against my stomach and my hand dropped to his belt.

  "I don't want you to regret this..." he whispered.

  I almost laughed at him. As if. The only thing I'd regret tonight was not having an orgasm. And I was pretty sure he wouldn't let that happen.

  "Fuck no," I said. Right now I was so tightly wound that I was about ready to snap if he didn't go through with this.

  "But April...this can only be a one-time thing...we can't continue this beyond tonight."

  I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I understood why it had to be. Jordan was giving himself an out, letting me know this was just about sex.

  "I understand." I unbuckled his belt and ran my hand down his fly, caressing him through the sleek material of his suit pants. His cock leapt under my touch and I grasped him. "I want you inside me again, Jordan."

  In an instant, he had us against the wall, his pants and his boxers pushed down. He was naked but standing too close for me to properly admire him. He had the necessary foil packet in his hand, courtesy of the hotel. I'd have to write a thank-you note to housekeeping for being so considerate.

  With hardly any effort at all, he lifted me and pressed me against the cold wall so that our faces were level with each other. My legs locked around his waist and his tongue invaded my mouth with such ferocity that I could hardly breathe. I writhed against him and he came up for air, gasping before dipping his head and sucking my nipple into his mouth. Fucking hell, it felt so good. My fingernails dug into his shoulders, my eyes rolling back into my head.

  His tongue and teeth were kneading the sensitive point of my nipple, driving me straight into ecstatic oblivion. I ground my hips against him and he grunted in response, switching to the other nipple.

  "Oh my God, you are driving me insane," I gasped.

  "Nice to finally return the favor. You've been driving me insane for over a month."

  "You've just been making me hate you," I said as I raked my nails down his shoulders and chest.

  "Hmm--so mean of me. I should make up for that." Slowly, he let me slide down the wall until I was on my feet again, but he kept sinking until he was on his knees and then sitting on the rug. I moved to go down with him, but he held my hips in place. He began applying those magical, heavenly, scruff-filled kisses to the tender skin on the inside of my thighs. I leaned back against the wall, opening my legs at his nudging, closing my eyes to savor the feel of him there. His hot mouth traveled up one thigh, then switched to the other, repeating its path. He gently pulled, prompting me to shift my weight to the other leg so I could drape one over his shoulder, opening myself to him.

  "I can't wait to find out what you taste like, Weiss."

  I gulped. None of my boyfriends had ever performed oral sex on me. They either had never offered or a few times my high school boyfriend's efforts had been so awkward, I'd stopped him before he'd begun. I almost wanted to stop Jordan now. I'd never had this experience before and wasn't sure this should be the first time, but I had no time to think or react before his mouth was at the juncture of my thighs, his fingers spreading me open to his attention.

  His tongue slipped out to connect with my clit, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from yelping. The minute I could breathe, I let out a long moan and his shoulder tensed underneath my leg. He leaned forward, applying more pressure, and I was lost to him and the intoxicating movements of his tongue against my flesh. Each flick of his tongue felt like it was drawing every cell in my body tighter and tighter together. Soon he was sucking me into his mouth, consuming me, as he'd threatened to. And with that scruff and those muscles, I could easily picture him as the Big Bad Wolf, devouring me.

  Every nerve ending in my body was alive and lusting for more attention from him and his bewitching mouth. He must have judged I was close, because his mouth pushed harder against me, his movements coming faster. Then a finger slipped inside me, pushing deep and curving upward, pressing against my most sensitive spot, as if it was an 'on' button and that was all I'd been waiting for.

  In moments, I was climaxing in mind-blowing waves of pure screaming pleasure. I couldn't hold back anymore. My one leg buckled and Jordan held me up as he continued to suck--every last drop of tension wringing from me until I was so sensitive it started to hurt.

  "Please," I gasped, pushing him away. "Oh God..."

  Slowly, he let up as I fought to recover. He unhooked my leg from his shoulder, releasing my hips. My eyes were closed and my entire body was covered in perspiration. I tingled everywhere. Instead of satisfying me, that orgasm had made me hungry for more. I wanted to feel him moving inside me, filling me up. I wanted to hear him groan with his own need, taking his pleasure from my body.

  When I opened my eyes, he was lying flat on his back, looking up at me with predatory eyes. I gingerly sank down on the carpet beside him, peppering his chest with hungry kisses.

  "You are so unbelievably hot," he muttered.

  "I was just going to say that about you."

  Our mouths connected and when he pulled back, he muttered, "If I'm not inside you in the next two minutes, I'm going to fucking lose it."

  He grabbed the packet off the ground beside him and tore the foil, then slipped on the condom. This was the first chance I'd had to see him naked and he was beautiful--sculpted, lean, muscular legs from years of balancing on a surfboard, his firm abdomen, the ridge above his hips. I also got my first glimpse of his cock, and it was as magnificent as the rest of him. And large, just as I remembered--if I'd known what I'd been getting into last time, I might have run screaming.

  "You really should be practicing your talk, you know," I teased when he'd finished slipping on the condom.

  "I'll have time for that after I've used these condoms." He rolled on his side and reached for me. I went willingly.

  "I didn't count...how many of them came in the basket?"

  He grinned like the wolf he had likened himself to. "You'll find out."

  With a gentle nudge, we both rolled and he pinned me down with his wide chest. A hand slipped down to press my knees apart and I opened to him.

  He slipped in between my legs, and in one swift movement pushed himself inside me. I was slick, wet, ready for him, and though he was big, his entry was easy enough. I held my breath, enjoying the feel of him there, of his weight pushing me down into the carpet. He bent forward, pressed his mouth to my neck and began to move.

  He found his rhythm quickly, resting on his elbows, holding my head in his hands as he continued to feast on my neck. I locked my legs around his swiveling hips, pulling him into me tight and not letting g
o.

  "Jesus, Weiss, you're killing me," he muttered in a hoarse voice.

  "Fuck me hard, Jordan."

  With a growl, he pushed up on his arms and did just that, slamming into me with rushed, quick strokes. The force of it took my breath away and almost hurt, but it also felt intensely good. Abruptly, he shifted the tempo and the angle at which he entered me, and I sucked in a breath, my body arching underneath him. He watched me closely, likely trying to gauge how close I was. I could barely catch my breath. It must have been pretty obvious I was close.

  "Come on, April," he ground out. "Come again."

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on nothing else but the feel of him moving inside me and against me, the friction of his solid chest rubbing against my nipples, the feel of his hands digging into my hips, his hot breath on my face and neck. All at once, I was up and over the edge, coming in breath-stealing gasps, completely shocked that I had come again so quickly.

  But then I remembered... that night, the night of the video. I'd orgasmed more than once too. It had been the first time that had ever happened, and all because I'd been under the hands of a very skilled lover. Under Jordan's hands.

  He was still moving on top of me, his breath becoming more ragged until I felt him stiffen against me with one final push deep inside.

  Behind my closed eyes, I was still seeing stars. That had been fan-fucking-tastic. Every bit as hot as the night of Comic-Con--no, even better. This time I could look into his handsome face and see his desire for me. I could feel his hot mouth moving over my neck, my face.

  Holy shit.

  As I floated back down to earth, I began to dread his words from earlier. April...this can only be a one-time thing...we can't continue this beyond tonight.

  A feeling of cold emptiness washed over me and I suppressed a shiver, an ache of loss.

  Because already I was addicted.

  Chapter 20

  Jordan

  Instead of practicing for my TED talk and reminding myself about Friar Jordan's New Law of Celibacy, I spent half the night fucking my hot intern. And though it blew all those newfound ideals out of the water, there was no way in hell I was going to regret it.

  After the first time on the floor in front of the fireplace, I carried her upstairs to my room. I had another condom and I intended to use it. If this was a one-night-only thing--as it really had to be--then I was going to make the most of it.

  After two orgasms, she appeared fatigued, a sheen of sweat making her porcelain skin glow in an otherworldly beautiful way. There was another fireplace in my bedroom, so instead of turning on the lights, I flipped the switch for the fireplace instead. Then, I laid her gently on the bed and she smiled up at me with sated eyes that I couldn't resist. I bent to take that mouth with mine again, kissing those plump, pink lips that reminded me of a fairytale princess. A very naughty fairytale princess.

  "You thirsty? Hungry?"

  With a smile, she shook her head then scooted over on the bed, patting the place beside her.

  I ducked into the bathroom before joining her. She had rolled onto her stomach, having tucked a pillow under her chin, and was watching the fire intently from the foot of the bed. I lay on my back and admired the curves of her gorgeous ass and thighs.

  Her body was different from the women I dated nowadays. Most were models, so they were tall, lean, and lanky. All firm, toned muscle and few curves. They were beautiful women, no doubt, but there was something about this one...

  "Your body is beautiful," I said, running a hand over her soft skin, cupping her ass.

  She turned her head to look at me a frown creasing her dark brows. It was clear she didn't believe me. "Weren't you dating a Victoria's Secret model last year? And the actresses...I hardly compare to any of them."

  My hand paused only momentarily in its exploration of her skin, her ass, her legs. I was already getting hard just from touching her. And I wanted inside her again--soon. Hopefully, the second time would be enough for tonight because the condom count would be zero after this. Though I could call room service for more if I became desperate enough.

  "You shouldn't compare yourself to any of them. You're different. You feel like a woman. A real woman. It's their job to look like that so the clothes look good on them," I shrugged. "But I wouldn't kick any of them out of bed for eating crackers..."

  She scowled.

  "I might kick you out of bed, though. So I could fuck you on the floor again, of course."

  "Wow, the things you tell a woman just to get in her pants..."

  My hand stopped on her arm and closed around it--a little too tightly, I realized, when she sucked in her breath. I let up on my hold and she turned, our eyes fastening on each other. "I don't lie to a woman. Ever. Not to you. Not to any of them."

  "I could make you lie to me."

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but it didn't have the intended effect. She smiled craftily.

  "How many lovers have you had?"

  I hesitated, pulling back. "I'm not going to tell you that."

  She raised her head off the pillow and looked at me. "What if I told you how many I've had?"

  "Tell me, then."

  "Let's see... I was seventeen my first time--junior prom. That was my high school boyfriend--"

  The thought of her with other men was annoying me for some reason, even if it was ancient history. "Just a number, Weiss, not a complete sexual history."

  She shrugged. "You're number six."

  I lay back on my pillow and watched her, running my hand down her leg again.

  "Well?" she said after a minute. "Come on...tell me your number."

  "The truth?" I sighed. "I have no idea."

  Her brows shot up. "What?"

  I shrugged. "It's not like I count."

  "Okay, but...could you count if you sat down and thought about it?"

  I stared at the ceiling, avoiding her eyes--and the question. She was probably disgusted.

  "Are we talking dozens, scores, hundreds? Ballpark it."

  A sly smile spread across my lips. "Definitely less than a ballpark."

  She smacked the back of my arm and laughed. "Jackass."

  I laughed and shrugged. "But it's just a number anyway. I actually think sex gets hotter the longer you are with someone. You get to know them better, their body, what they like..."

  My hand smoothed over her again. Had I ever touched skin this soft before? And even after all that sweating she'd done from our scorching encounter downstairs, she still smelled amazing.

  Her eyes widened. "Wow, that's so not something I expected to come out of the playboy millionaire's mouth."

  Yeah, if I kept talking like that, I stood to damage my reputation. But I'd already started to feel jaded about all that anyway.

  And seeing Cyndi tonight had reminded me of that emptiness. Of how I probably would never be satisfied if I kept hooking up in those shallow, unfulfilling liaisons. Sure, it was fun to get my rocks off in the moment. But at the end of the day, I went home alone. The chick might not even be someone I'd want to sit around and watch movies with or have a meal or long conversation.

  I hadn't had any of that in a long time, until... My hand stilled on top of April's weird tattoo at the small of her back, right at the curve above her ass that drove me crazy. I rose up on one elbow to get a better look at it, running my hand over it again.

  "So here it is, the damning tattoo."

  She tensed under my hand. "You mean my brand of shame? My scarlet letter?"

  "Your what?"

  She turned her head and looked at me. "Oh, please don't tell me you've never read the novel. The Scarlet Letter? Nathaniel Hawthorne?"

  "I was homeschooled. My mom didn't like classic literature. I saw the movie, though. Some Puritan chick got pregnant out of wedlock and they made her put a red 'A' on all her clothes."

  She got that same dreamy look on her face she always did when she talked about books. "Hester Prynne. She was an amazing woman. They tried to shame
her, but she rose above their jeers and taunts. She bore the brunt of their horrible treatment, stood up on the scaffold and faced the humiliation in front of everyone in the village. The scarlet letter was meant to be her brand of shame. Eventually it became her badge of honor."

  I traced the skull and snake tattoo at the small of her back. "And this is your brand of shame?"

  She shrugged. "Sometimes it feels like that."

  "What on earth possessed you to get this, Weiss?"

  "What possessed me to do just about all of the stupid things I've done in my short life? A combination of my parents, a steep nose-dive in self-esteem and a lot of alcohol."

  "So your mother did something to piss you off?"

  She shook her head. "No, that one was my dad. I was sixteen. We had a big fight. I wanted to leave the boarding school I was at because I hated it there and was having a hard time. He blew me off. I went out with some questionable friends, got drunk using a fake ID and woke up the next morning with the tat. It was basically a symbolic slap in the face to him. And he was hurt when he found out about me getting a tattoo--though he never saw it. I want to get it removed someday."

  "Until then, it's damning evidence of your bout with cosplay stardom," I said, laughing.

  She turned to me with intensity in her eyes, and I knew I wasn't going to like what she had to say. "Speaking of damning evidence, I do believe you have a tattoo that proves you were once madly in love with someone."

  I swallowed hard and looked away. That same fresh hurt rose up and stabbed me in the chest. So weird that after all these years, you'd think you were over something--someone. But tonight...looking into her face again, seeing her so much older now. And a far cry from that smiling, carefree surfer girl I grew up with... The woman who basically shattered my trust in all women forever. Because if I couldn't trust her, who the hell could I trust?

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I didn't want to talk about Cyndi. Not now...not ever. But I doubted April would let me off the hook, and she was starting to tread into uncomfortable territory. So I leaned forward and kissed her on the shoulder, smoothing my hand down her back. Although this was a classic distraction tactic, I really was ready to go again. I nibbled on her ear and she drew away from me to catch my gaze with those beautiful dark blue eyes. I took a breath and let it go with a sigh.