“Please don’t remind me,” she mumbled. She wasn’t sure it was better that she’d totally humiliated herself in front of Rand instead of a complete stranger. If only she’d heard him coming in—but the penthouse was huge. She’d never heard the door, never suspected she wasn’t alone until he spoke.
“It’s not something I’m ever going to forget.”
“I wish I could.” She forced a bright smile. “Anyway, duty calls. Please don’t hesitate to contact the front desk if you need anything during your stay.”
That had sounded good—calm, professional, unaffected. Somebody who didn’t know her, who wouldn’t have noticed the telltale flush in her face or heard the tremor in her voice, would assume that she and Rand had barely a passing acquaintance. Certainly they wouldn’t realize she was desperate to get away from him, if only to avoid either slapping him for ignoring her for all these years, or kissing him just to convince herself that she once had.
His hands had been the first to stroke her breasts, his mouth the first to kiss her bare stomach, his tongue the first to lick into the slick, secret folds between her thighs. He’d been her first everything...except that one thing. That had to be why she was still so skittish around him. Everybody was a little weird around their first, er, almost-lover.
And now, she was sitting on a big, plush bed with her almost-first, and he was staring at her as if she was a little girl carrying a basket of sweets and he the big, hungry wolf. Any woman would feel a little dizzy.
“Well, um, it was nice running into you,” she said, trying not to imagine his lips, tongue or hands coming into contact with any part of her. She’d already had those dreams too often for one woman’s lifetime.
“Stay,” he ordered, his voice silky, his expression heated. “Do what you want to do, rather than what you think you ought to.”
She swallowed hard. She had to get up and get out of here. But the strength had been zapped out of Emily’s limbs. She couldn’t move, couldn’t resist, couldn’t slap him, couldn’t protest. Curiosity made her sit utterly still. And he was right, she did want it. As if mesmerized, she watched as he moved closer and closer, until their breaths mingled. A tiny gasp emerged from her lips the moment his mouth covered hers.
He didn’t grab her, didn’t take her in his arms, didn’t try to possess her. He simply claimed her with a slow, sultry kiss. His lips explored her, reminding her of just how bad every other man she’d ever kissed had tasted and how perfect Rand’s mouth had always been. Her remaining strength departed and she leaned against him, needing him for support as he explored her with his warm tongue, delighting her with every delicious plunge.
Worlds turned on such kisses, hearts were filled or broken, lives planned and lived, decisions made and regretted. He was a once-in-a-lifetime kisser—she hadn’t imagined it, hadn’t made it up after their brief, long-ago affair. Every other man she’d kissed since had been lacking because this man’s kiss had set the bar so high that no other man could reach it.
But he wasn’t the one who took things further. She did.
She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, twining her fingers in his thick, dark hair. He groaned as she pressed against him. Suddenly, he was grabbing her around the waist and pulling her onto his lap. Instinct had taken over, gripping them both and not letting go. The past was falling away, and driving desire was all that mattered now. The feel of him, the taste of him, the desire that racked her body—and his—were the only things that existed.
Emily parted her legs and shimmied close, straddling him and arching against his crotch. Her skirt rode up to bunch around her waist again, and she whimpered when she realized just how hard he was, that ridge of steel nestling against her hot, damp core. Without breaking the kiss, he dropped his hands and stroked her thighs, tracing his fingertips up to her hips, and sliding his thumbs beneath the elastic of her panties.
“Mmm,” she groaned against his mouth as he worked his hands together, until the rough pads of his thumbs were brushing the curls covering her sex. He echoed the sound, kissing her deeply as he twirled his thumbs. When he dropped one lower, to stroke her sensitive clit, she gasped and jerked, shocked and beyond excited.
The kiss got deeper, hotter, hungrier, filling her with desire and answering seven years’ worth of questions about whether they’d really had this heated connection.
Yes. Oh, God, yes.
He toyed with her, stroking her expertly with his thumb, while sliding his fingers between her slick lips. A climax started building low inside her. Rand lifted his other hand to slide under her blouse, stroking her midriff, then reaching up to cup her breast. He tugged the strap down, far enough to reach her nipples, and plucked her delicately.
Every stroke brought the tension higher, every thrust of his tongue was matched by one of her hips, until at last warm waves of pleasure burst through her, spreading out from her core to the tip of every toe, the end of every strand of hair. It rocked her, stunned her, and she pulled her mouth off his to let out a soft cry of delight as it swept her away.
Once her heartbeat began to return to normal, she sagged against him. He’d adjusted her bra, fixed her panties and was tenderly kissing her temple, then nibbling on her earlobe.
“Still so responsive,” he whispered.
She was busy trying to catch her breath, shocked, hungry, embarrassed. How could her ordered world have changed so quickly? A day ago, she’d forgotten all about Rand. Well, not forgotten, but she’d put him out of her mind. Now she was a boneless, postorgasmic heap on the man’s lap.
“This is crazy,” she muttered.
“No, it’s not. This is exactly what I came for.”
The satisfaction in his tone made her brain cells start functioning in earnest again. She lifted her head and stared down at him. “What?”
“The truth is, Emily, I knew you worked here. While I certainly didn’t expect to walk into my room and find you on your hands and knees in front of me, I absolutely planned to find you. I came here to finish what we started seven years ago.”
Emily froze, not sure she was hearing him right. The shock was making her slow to react, and she could only gape at him. His stare didn’t shift away; his expression was entirely serious.
“You...what?”
“I came to see you, Emily. You are the reason I accepted the invitation to appear at the fund-raiser, and why I had my assistant push for me to get a room in this hotel.”
“That’s not possible.”
The room seemed to spin, and his words echoed in her ears. She tried to grasp them, tried to evaluate them, even as her body heard, understood and reacted. Once she accepted that he’d really said what she thought he’d said, she almost fell off his lap onto the floor. He wrapped a tight arm around her and kept her from pitching backward.
“You tracked me down?”
“What’s money for if you can’t hire a private detective?”
Her jaw dropped. She stared at him, trying to make sense of the amused, self-satisfied twinkle in his eyes, unsure of how to react. He’d hired someone to find her. He’d come here to...to...
“You found me and came here so you could fuck me?”
“You don’t have to put it that way,” he said, the twinkle fading as he realized she wasn’t going to react with orgiastic bliss. “I just... Wanted to finish what we started.”
Seven years was a long time to wait between foreplay and consummation. Was he really so cocky, so self-confident, that he assumed he could just show up after years of silence and she’d immediately drop her panties and lay out the welcome mat?
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