‘Then enjoy the ride,’ Antonio suggested. He wondered briefly about warning her that this was a one-night stand, a brief moment of pleasure. But he didn’t want to break the mood and surely it was obvious? Relationships didn’t start between strangers on an empty office floor at two o’clock in the morning. Maisie seemed refreshingly honest and artless, but she wasn’t dumb.
‘Enjoy the ride,’ she repeated slowly, savouring each word as if it were a sip of fine wine. ‘Now, that’s something I don’t think I’ve ever done before.’
Antonio raised his eyebrows. ‘No?’
‘No. Definitely not.’
‘Then maybe now is the time.’
Maisie took a deep, slow breath and raised her resolute gaze to his. Antonio felt a blaze of triumph burn through him; he knew that look. She’d made up her mind.
‘Maybe I should,’ she said, and then she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his, feather-light, whisper-soft. Antonio remained still under her hesitant caress, waiting to see what she would do next. She drew back, frowning a little. ‘Didn’t you...didn’t you like it?’
‘Of course I liked it,’ Antonio was quick to reassure her. ‘But how can I be satisfied with barely a mouthful when what I really want is a meal? A feast?’ He let her see the heat simmering in his gaze as his mouth dropped to her lips. This really was the most interesting and exquisite foreplay, and like nothing else he’d ever done with a woman. ‘Kiss me again, Maisie.’
And she did, this time pressing her body as well as her lips against his, one slender hand curling over his shoulder. It was clumsy and hesitant and somehow perfect. This time Antonio couldn’t keep from responding. He spanned her waist with his hands, revelling in her softness, and drew her even more snugly against him, so their bodies were in sensual alignment. He felt a shudder go through her at his obvious arousal, and he paused, waiting for her to catch up. To take the next step.
And she did, kissing him again, her tongue darting out to touch his lips like a shy butterfly. Antonio captured her mouth against his own, deepening the kiss, plundering her silken depths as he’d been longing to.
Need roared through him, his blood rushing through his veins, pounding in his head. He’d meant to go slowly, to be civilised and controlled about the whole thing, but all his careful plans fell apart as Maisie gave herself to him so generously, so artlessly. He backed her up across the room, all the way to the sofa, and his last remnant of self-control kept him from practically throwing her onto its leather cushions. Instead he laid her down gently, and she stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes.
‘Antonio...’
His breath came out in a ragged hiss as he stared down at her, aghast at the possibility of her having second thoughts. ‘Do you want me, Maisie?’
‘Yes...’ Her voice wavered and Antonio cursed himself for having rushed things.
‘Do you want this?’ He gestured to the space between them, the look in his eyes surely leaving no confusion as to what he meant.
Maisie lay on the sofa, her pupils dilated, her lips slightly parted, her expression dazed and full of desire. She drew in a long, slow breath, her gaze searching him, asking silent questions Antonio didn’t know how to answer. He waited, fists clenched, everything taut and expectant, as he braced himself for her reply.
‘Yes,’ she whispered finally, and her head fell back against the cushions. ‘Yes, I do.’
MAISIE GAZED UP at Antonio’s intent and beautiful face and felt a peaceful settling inside her; a resolution had been made. She was going to do this. She was going to sleep with him. She wasn’t sure when she had decided. When she’d kissed him? When he’d told her he wanted her? When she’d come into the room?
She didn’t do stuff like this. Of course she didn’t. For the last five years her entire focus had been on Max—caring for him, providing for him, and suppressing all her hopes, dreams and needs. And maybe that was why she had decided, why she was lying on a sofa looking up at the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, waiting for him to start seducing her. Because she’d lived for someone else for too long, and now, just for one night, she wanted to live for herself. For pleasure. For excitement. For this.
Antonio’s gaze roved over her. ‘You’re sure,’ he said slowly.
‘Yes.’ She swallowed, more of a gulp. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘Good,’ he answered swiftly. ‘Because so am I.’
Her heart trembled as he knelt before her, his hands on her hips, anchoring her in place. She stared at him, feeling as pinned—and as beautiful—as a butterfly. Waiting.
Then he lowered his mouth to hers and her mind blissfully emptied out. This was what had happened the first time he’d kissed her, or rather, she’d kissed him. Barely a brush of lips and yet her senses, every single one, had short-circuited. She hadn’t been able to think. She had barely remembered to breathe. The touch of his mouth to hers had felt like a spark to her soul, lighting a fire within her. And when Antonio had taken control of their kiss it had become a complete conflagration. She was consumed.
And Maisie felt consumed now, in the best possible way, as his mouth moved over hers—and then lower. He kissed his way down her cheek and throat, his tongue touching the hard edge of her collarbone before nestling in the hollow of her throat, sucking and teasing. A shudder escaped her and she arched up, already helpless.
Antonio chuckled against her skin and then his mouth moved lower, to the edge of her blue T-shirt. ‘What are you wearing?’ he murmured and Maisie squirmed and blushed.
‘My cleaning uniform. It’s hideous, I know...’
‘Clearly you could inflame me wearing a bin bag,’ Antonio returned as his hands slid under the shapeless shirt. ‘But I think I’d like to see you wearing nothing at all.’
He slid her T-shirt over her head and tossed it across the room with a deliberately wolfish smile that would have made Maisie laugh if she didn’t feel so suddenly, unbearably exposed. She struggled not to cover herself; no one had seen her in just her bra. No one.
‘You are even lovelier than before,’ Antonio said softly. ‘There’s no need to be embarrassed.’
Maisie swallowed, not quite willing to admit that no one had ever seen her like this before. That Antonio Rossi, a virtual stranger, was the first. With his gaze steady he reached one hand out and cupped her breast, his palm warm through the thin cotton of her bra. Sparks of sensation radiated outward from his touch, fireworks fizzing inside her. Although she tried to hide her reaction, Antonio noticed and smiled.
‘Do you know how potent a woman’s reaction is to a man? How inflaming?’
‘But you’re still dressed,’ Maisie protested. She wanted him to touch her more; she wanted to touch him. She just had no idea how to go about it.
‘That is something that can be easily remedied.’ He lifted his hands to the buttons of his shirt and then paused, one eyebrow arched. ‘Perhaps you will do it for me?’
‘Oh...’ She hadn’t expected a man like Antonio—powerful, privileged, and surely used to being in charge—to give her so much control. Want her to have it. ‘I...’
He shrugged, his expression one of wry amusement although there was a fierce light in his eyes. ‘They’re just buttons.’
Yes, they were just buttons, of course they were, and yet it was so much more. It was owning the reckless