Лиза Джонс: One Dangerous Night

The dress shimmered down his new temptation’s hips and fell to the ground, leaving her wearing a cream-colored bra and panties set with little diamond sparkles, thigh-highs and heels. He drew in a heavy breath, reeling in the desire he knew he had to control. There was so much more on the line than sex, mostly for her.

She reached for her bra and he moved quickly, surprising her, and shackling her wrist. She was flat on the mattress, and beneath him in an instant, one of his legs between hers, because both would have been too much to bare. As it was, that scent of hers, all sweet and flowery, was like fire licking at his limbs. And his cock, which was against her hip, throbbed with the promise of how close he was to the also sweet V of her legs.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told her.

“I thought we already covered this?”

“Not well enough. You aren’t too far gone to turn back.”

“This coming from a man who has me almost naked in a hotel bed with him?”

“Almost, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d have the courage to really strip for me. Whatever it is you think working for this guy will fix, it won’t. What do you need? Money? I’ll give you money if you promise to walk away from this and never look back.”

“So I’ll work for you instead of him?”

“No strings. You never have to see me again.”

“Are you seriously trying to save me?” she asked.

“Yes. I am.”

She studied him a long moment before her fingers curled on his cheek, the simple, delicate touch, sending a rippling sensation through his body. “You know what they say about those who try too hard to save other people?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “They say, they need saving themselves.”

His hand slid to hers. “I’m way beyond saving, sweetheart.”

“So am I,” she whispered.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Then you’re looking too hard for something that’s not there.”

“I don’t think so.”

“If I can be saved then so can you.”

His lips twisted cynically. “We aren’t even in the same universe. Believe me. I’m lost. You can still be found.”

“You sound so sure.” She reached up and stroked his hair from where it already began to fall from the back at his neck, his fingers tugging it forward. Every time she touched him, his entire body burned. She had no idea how much willpower it required for him not to slide between her thighs and settle in for a long, hot night. “I wonder,” she contemplated, studying him with big, gorgeous eyes, he could get lost in forever, “if maybe we should both try to save each other and then in the morning, pretend we didn’t?”

Or maybe, Blake thought, in the morning he’d fly her off to some tropical paradise, away from this wicked winter hell of Alvarez’s world, and convince her she never has to come back.

The negotiation…

Blake’s mouth came down on hers, and this time he didn’t hold back. He wanted to save her. She wanted to save him. She didn’t have a chance where he was concerned, but the wicked heat of her kiss, the delicate play of her tongue against his, sure as hell would go a long way in helping him forget why that wasn’t possible, at least, for tonight.

His hand slid down her neck, over the soft silk of her shoulder and he tugged her bra strap down with him. Her skin was cool and he was hot. He wanted her hot in a nearly consuming way. It was illogical but he really didn’t care. His mouth traveled the delicate line of her shoulder blade and downward. Her fingers played in his hair, her touch affecting him far too easily, but then there wasn’t a lot of softness he let in his life. Normally, he’d snatch her hand, and hold it over her head. He’d do the touching, not her, so why wasn’t he doing that now? Why wasn’t he stopping her? Why the hell was he lingering at the sweet spot at the base of her throat when he could be ripping away her panties and burying himself inside her?

After all, he’d been on the edge before he’d ever met her, ready to finally get what he wanted, what he’d craved for two years. Knowing he was still too far away. His need for an escape, for something hard, fast, and furious, should be driving him. Instead an inescapable, dangerously distracting, need to save this woman, to please her, consumed him.

His fingers traced the clip in the center of her bra and unsnapped it, closer to having her completely bared to him. He wanted her bared to him. He wanted her naked, panting, and screaming his name. Blake caressed away the silk of her bra and framed her high, full breasts with his hands. She arched into him, and moaned when his mouth closed down on the rosy peek of one nipple. He took his time, teasing her, licking her, enjoying her, rather than ravishing her, slowly kissing his way downward, until he peeled her panties down her hips.

Something dark and needy expanded inside him at the sight of the dark, well-groomed triangle of hair between her thighs. He slid off of the bed, and took the panties all the way down her legs, at the same time he went to his knees, pulling her towards him.

She rose up on her elbows, her big brown eyes wide with emotion, without arousal, and yes–there it was again – just a hint of trepidation. No matter how hard she tried to hide the truth, a night with a stranger wasn’t the norm for her. Not even close.

His gaze raked over her lush breasts, his cock thick and pulsing, and he tugged his shirt over his head and got rid of it. He tossed one of her high-heels and then the other. “No shoes, keeps you from running away.”

“Then maybe you better take yours off,” she commented.

“I never run.”

“Neither do I,” she said. “But even the score. Shoes off.”

His lips quirked at her challenge and he gladly complied. “Satisfied now?” he asked settling her feet back on his thighs.

“Not yet,” she said. “But I have high hopes I will be.”

He laughed at that bold statement. She was a contradiction of fearless and fearful that intrigued him. “You will be,” he promised, and one by one, he rolled the lace-topped silk slices down her legs, skimming a path down her long, shapely legs. The woman had a killer body that would have had any man begging to be right here, opening her legs to him. And open she did as he settled one delicate instep on each of his shoulders.

He stroked a finger down her core and her legs quivered. “Slick and hot,” he approved. “You sure feel like you want to be saved.”

“I’m not sure saved is the word-”

Blake buried his face between her thighs, and suckled her nub. She gasped in surprise and he watched her fall back onto the mattress, her pink painted nails digging into the comforter. He smiled with satisfaction, lapping at her, delicately teasing and licking, even as his finger slid insider her, stroking her. And she unraveled for him, oh yeah she did. Soft moans and sweet nectar that were so sexy and perfect he could have licked her all night, but she wasn’t having it. She shattered for him, her body shaking, arching deliciously against his mouth and hand.

And then she rolled to her side, hiding her face, again with a contradiction. The bold beauty who’d challenged him to please her and now the shy beauty who’d just been pleased. Blake wasn’t having any part of her hiding from him. If he was going to influence her, and clearly sex had become his weapon of doing so, he needed to get to her, he needed to connect beyond an orgasm.

Blake tossed his jacket that was still on the bed and slid in front of her, lacing his hand into her hair and forcing her to look at him. “What are you hiding from?” he asked, and he wasn’t just talking about sex. “Me or something else?”

Her eyes went wide, sparking with emotion. “Nothing. I’m not hiding from anything.” She slid close to him, pressing her soft, perfect body against his. “What are you hiding from? And why aren’t you inside me already?”