Leaning forward, he dipped his head and laved her nipple with his tongue. She moaned, and he repeated the movement, teasing the tip to a hard peak. When her breathing grew labored, he straightened and slid his hand down her stomach. He liked stimulating her. He liked the needy look in her eyes. He liked…controlling her response.
A flaw maybe. But one he wasn’t willing to admit to or relinquish.
He trailed his hand across her abs, then moved down, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, just as she’d done to him.
“You’ve been there once. I thought it was your turn.”
“It is.” He bunched the panties in his fist, then jerked them down her legs. “Eventually.”
But he’d been dying to taste her all night, and he certainly wasn’t missing his chance.
He drew his tongue down the center of her rib cage. The teasing smell of strawberries and chocolate tracked his journey, and he knew she must wear some kind of scented lotion or perfume. Her soft, creamy skin seduced him. Her sighs encouraged him. Her body welcomed him.
When he reached her navel, he dipped his tongue in the indention. Her stomach contracted. In anticipation, he hoped.
As he slid his fingers through the hair between her thighs, the musky scent of her essence washed over him. She was wet, her longing evident. He slid his tongue gently down her center. She clenched her thighs and sighed, but his hunger for her had been building, so he wasn’t long on patience. He wanted his name on her lips, wanted to experience every part of her, absorb her inside him.
They might be virtual strangers, but she’d never forget him.
He teased her with gentle flicks, but she soon grew restless, her body jerking, her fists clenching the bedcovers, her head thrashing from side to side.
Sensing what she needed, he increased his pace, no longer teasing but bringing her the satisfaction she seemed to crave. When her hips pumped and she called his name, his body answered, his erection throbbing, demanding its pleasure.
He watched her. And his command over his body buckled.
As her pulse subsided, he scooped his pants off the floor, found a condom and rolled it on. He fitted himself between her thighs and drove inside, desperate to catch those last few contractions.
Her eyes flew open and fixed on his as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her inner walls squeezed him.
Lucas panted so he wouldn’t explode at the exquisite feel of her. He withdrew, then surged forward again, and she gripped the comforter as her hips rose to meet him.
He hadn’t even turned down the sheets, he realized. Sometime between the balcony and the bedroom, he’d lost those precious manners he’d bragged about. But there was no holding back now. He didn’t give a great damn about manners as sweat rolled down his back and Vanessa writhed beneath him. He increased his pace, Vanessa’s hips pumping in response. His climax roared through him, and he drove harder, wanting her with him when he went over the edge. She stiffened, then pulsed hard around him.
As he collapsed on top of her, he was already planning ways to keep her, to probe her mind as well as her body and unravel the mystery as to why she’d struck him so hard, so immediately.
Right between the eyes.
“HOW ABOUT DESSERT?”
Lucas rolled to his side, propping his hand against his head. “That wasn’t dessert?”
Eyes closed, her red bra parted but still on, Vanessa’s lips curved in a smile. “That was fantastic.” She paused. “But I’m still hungry.”
He drew his finger down her side. Food wasn’t exactly what he was hungry for, but he could be patient. “My fridge is pretty bare. I only moved in last week.”
One eye cracked open. “Last week? The place is spotless. Where are the boxes, the furniture you haven’t found a place for yet, the bubble wrap piled in the corners?”
“I had a service unpack everything while I was at work.”
“That’s…efficient.”
“I don’t believe in wasting time.”
Her eyes popped open fully, meeting his gaze with amused satisfaction. “I kind of got that.”
He liked that he could lie here with her and talk like old friends. Where was the awkwardness of strangers taking the premature leap to intimacy? Why had his desire for her increased instead of being satiated?
He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. “However…there are moments when taking your time is much more satisfying.”
“Like with a soufflé?”
Completely charmed by her, he kissed her lightly. “Among others.”
Wondering if her cry of hunger was mingled with a need for distance, he rolled off the bed. After sliding on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he walked into the bathroom and pulled his bathrobe off a hook, then laid it at the foot of the bed.
He had to make a conscious effort not to go any closer to her. She made him long to crawl into bed for a day. And even then he wasn’t sure his hunger would be satisfied.
“The bathroom’s all yours,” he said, extending his arm toward the open French doors. “I’m sure you’ll find everything you need.”
She propped up on her elbows. “The service provide that, too?”
He smiled. “Of course. I’m a very good customer.”
He left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, hoping he had something that would satisfy a chocolate-loving caterer. He found cheese and grapes and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. As he set out glasses and plates, he reflected on the fact that Vanessa Last-Name-Not-Provided was his first guest.
At some point, he’d planned to have a few key people at the firm over for a cocktail party, but the past week had been spent immersed in learning office procedures, client lists and potential clients. This job was his first time working for someone else in nearly a decade. He needed some time to get acclimated before he hosted the partners.
When he heard the shower running, business flew from his mind. He found himself anticipating the scent of his soap on Vanessa. Her skin, soft, warm and wet from the water, he’d part the robe and kiss the side of her neck, sending her pulse racing.
She appeared at the end of the hall moments later, bundled in his robe, but a wary expression was set on her face.
Perhaps seduction should wait.
“Wine?” he asked her, holding up the bottle.
“Sure.” She sat at the bar and glanced down at the plate of food. “Empty fridge, huh? I was expecting stale chips and old Chinese food.”
“I was referring to my lack of chocolate. I’ll have to fix that if I want to keep you around, I expect.”
She selected a fat green grape. “This is great.”
Noting she didn’t respond to his invitation to stick around, he made the decision to keep things light, not to probe too obviously for details about her life. It would only take a simple phone call to find out the identity of the lovely blond country-club caterer.
As he slid onto the bar stool next to her, he handed her a wineglass. “Considering your exceptional skills in the kitchen, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She sipped the wine, nodding with approval. “How do you like Atlanta so far?”
“It’s fast. The traffic is murder.”
“A bit different from New Orleans, I bet.”
His