Ava Gray - Skin Game

Despite himself, despite layers of calculation, he smiled. He heard himself say, “Rey—” before he managed to cut it off.

The woman was charming . Her dossier hadn’t included that.

Christ. His fingers curled between her thighs. So many aliases and he’d almost told her his name. Maybe he should retire after this job, settle down on some small island. He was either losing his edge, or Kyra Marie Beckwith was dangerous in a way nobody had warned him about.

“Rey,” she repeated. “Doesn’t that mean king?”

“King of the road.” He ran his fingers along her inseam, making her thighs tense.

“Cute.” She sounded really breathless, squirming against the seat.

Her foot increased the pressure on the gas as he went further. Reyes smoothed in slow circles, tantalizing her with the question of when he’d move on. The worn denim felt soft and smooth beneath his fingertips, but it would be nothing compared to the satin of her sun-kissed skin.

She would be wondering how long before he took the metal tab and unfastened her jeans, how long before his fingers delved into the open V of her fly. If he did, he would find her panties damp. He wanted to make her come, just like that, a furtive touch creating a complete loss of control on her part.

Desire gnawed with near painful ferocity, but he wouldn’t act on it. No, this was a calculated tease, an appetizer. Judging by her expression, she wanted more. It would be dangerous to go further with her behind the wheel of a car. He decided that was part of what appealed to her—that element of risk.

Good to know.

With a faint smile, he grazed the placket of her jeans, stroked the joined teeth of her zipper. She moaned softly, lifting her hips. Then trailed his fingers away. Eventually, she turned with a heated, foggy gaze, as if just figuring out he didn’t intend to go further.

“So . . .” he said. “One room then?”

In answer, Kyra pulled into a motel parking lot as if her precious whitewalls were on fire.

By the time Kyra registered them and paid cash for the room, she should’ve cooled down. The pounding in her head had receded, leaving other impulses in its place. She should start thinking better of this decision. Instead she could only remember how long it had been since she’d been touched.

Raw and hungry sex with strangers was the only kind she’d ever known. She’d need to stick around in order for it to turn into something more, and she never did. This guy wouldn’t be an exception to that rule, but he might well turn out to be her best lay yet, if the way he looked was any indication.

She’d take what she wanted from him, and then ditch him. It might seem like a risky prospect to someone else, but maybe that was part of what she craved—the thrill of danger. He shut the door behind them while she took stock of their lodgings. Simple prefab furniture, paintings bolted to the wall, television affixed to the storage cabinet. The place had been decorated back in the 1970s, if the garish shades of burnt sienna and avocado were any indication. The chair by the window had a ripped vinyl seat.

“Nice,” she said with a mocking smile. “Romantic. You gonna run out for some protection while I slip into something more comfortable?”

The guy—Rey, he’d said his name was—cocked a brow at her. Surely he didn’t think she rolled with a purse full of condoms in case she got lucky. Or maybe it was her tone that startled him; he probably didn’t realize a woman could be horny as hell without losing her mind.

“Promise me you won’t go anywhere,” he said, spearing her with a midnight gaze.

“I won’t leave before you get back.” Which wasn’t quite what he’d asked her to pledge, but he didn’t seem to notice the difference.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes. Get naked,” he ordered as he went out the door.

Ordinarily the demand in his tone would put her back up and make her disinclined to sleep with him, but he’d been on her radar since before he ran a knife against her new tire. Kyra would bet he offered exactly what she wanted in bed: rough, demanding, no-holds-barred sex. She squirmed just thinking about it.

Because she wanted to, not because he’d demanded it, she stripped off her clothes and laid them on the chair. Most likely she should have closed the curtains first, but she didn’t hurry as she sauntered over to do so. If anyone got a glimpse of her body, well, it was a good one. She’d used it often as a distraction.

Kyra rarely permitted anyone close enough to touch. That was work related, and she only reached out when she intended to steal. Sometimes she missed physical closeness with an ache that threatened to tear out her heart, but she lived with it, knowing she really didn’t have a choice.

She took a quick shower and turned down the bed. Waiting for him, she couldn’t help but picture how good his hands had felt on her thighs. Kyra felt herself grow slick, aching to be touched. It seemed a shame to waste it.

By the time Rey returned, she’d teased herself to quivering readiness. Just as he’d asked, she lay on the cool white sheets, naked. When he pushed open the door, she lifted her fingers to her lips.

“Goddammit, you started without me.”

She lifted a shoulder. “You turned me on.”

To her amusement he tossed a shiny silver box on the nightstand. “There.”

Her mouth quirked. “A twelve-pack? You’re ambitious.”

“Never hurts to be prepared.”

“You got that right,” she murmured. “If you can keep up, you’ll need three or four of those tonight.”

Rey paused. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a fact. Are you going to take your clothes off, or do I need to do it for you?”

A shudder worked through him. He closed his eyes and curled his hands into fists. It was a moment before he moved, and then it was to pull his shirt over his head. He didn’t bother draping like she did, just flung his things in his haste to join her on the bed.

Ah, gorgeous. Kyra hadn’t misjudged him. He actually improved when he got naked: broad shoulders, taut abdomen, and such delicious bronze skin. All told, she didn’t think she could’ve picked a better partner for a night’s pleasure. He had a lovely cock, made for exactly what she wanted.

In a move she hadn’t anticipated, he went straight for her mouth, licking and nuzzling her lips with raw hunger. Though she usually preferred to get right to the fucking, she kissed him back, bit down on his lower lip until he whimpered. She ran her hands through his inky hair, surprised to find it was silkier than she’d expected. Heat kindled as he tasted her, so she threw a leg over his hip and rocked against him.

Surely he’d take the hint. Slap a condom on his cock and shove inside her. She’d never been with a man who made her wait after she made it clear she wanted to fuck. Kyra had already taken care of the foreplay, after all. Before his arrival, she’d caressed her own breasts and tugged on her nipples, stroked her own labia and teased her clit. She only needed him for the final act.

Rey didn’t seem to have received the memo. He kissed her until she couldn’t get her breath. She ran her nails down his back, wanting to punish him for being so slow.

He nibbled from her lips to her jaw and then down her throat. Kyra tipped her head back and made a low growling sound in her throat. He bit her. She felt herself lubricate even more, so slick and ready for him.

“Don’t make love,” she managed to say. “Just fuck.”

In answer, he licked a slow circle around her nipple. “You’re not in charge, Kyra. Try to tell me what to do again, and I’ll stop. If you want to be completely in control, you should do it yourself.”