Kathy Lyons - In Good Hands

And there was the gauntlet thrown down in challenge. Did she have the nerve to pick it up? It had been two years since she’d played any type of sex game with anyone. Two years since she’d put on stilettoes and done up her hair. Two years of burying her nose in every type of bizarre holistic treatment she could find. And none of it had been as fun as this moment right now. So did she go for it? All the way?

How could she not? After two years, she was beyond ready.

She stretched her hands up in the air and slowly pulled out the pins holding her hair in place. She knew he was watching her, so she worked as slowly and as seductively as possible. And then, when she was sure he was good and caught, she flashed him a wink. “There’s a Tantric game I’ve always wanted to play,” she said.

He swallowed, but that was the only indication she’d affected him. Well, that and the bulge down below. “A game?” he rasped.

She stepped right up to him, leaned in close and moved her lips to his left ear. She even pressed a hand to his chest so she could feel his heart beat under her palm.

“He who comes first, loses.”

He released a growl, low in his belly. Like a great beast coming awake after a long sleep, and at the sound, she knew she had him.

“Sounds like a good game,” he said as his hands slid around her waist. “You think I’m going to play with you? You think I’m going to risk a potential deal with Mandolin just to get you in bed?”

“I do.” She nipped at his earlobe with her teeth.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I got your attention,” she said as she thumbed open two buttons on his dress shirt and slipped a finger inside. There was a light dusting of hair there, just enough to be manly without detracting from the muscle she felt beneath his skin.

“Lots of women get my attention.”

His hands began creeping upward toward her breasts. Her nipples tightened and her breath caught and held. She’d forgotten how hot this was. How absolutely incredible it was to just let go.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one stuck in an elevator with you.”

He chuckled and the rumble of his body was like a low throb in her own. “True.”

And then there was a moment’s pause. His hands stilled, and so did her own. They both stopped teasing, stopped tempting, stopped everything as a single question filtered through the air: Were they really going to do this? His gaze caught hers and they communicated silently. Was this worth the risk?

“Do you have a condom?” he asked.

“In my purse.” Then she glanced around the freight elevator. “Any cameras?”

“Nope. And I’ve got a clean bill of health.”

“Me, too.”

His smile was slow in coming, but it was all the more devastating because of it. The man was potent. His nostrils had flared, his hands were strong and he was physically backing her up against the wall. And just when she thought he’d pounce, he held himself back and waited while her breath stuttered in and out of her chest.

“He who comes first loses?” he asked.

“That’s the game.”

“And what do I get if I win?”

She let her hands slide down until she was stroking the very long, large length of him. “You get invited to round two.”

“I like the sound of that.” He paused for effect, then moved an inch closer. “Game on.”

He wasn’t subtle in going for it, not that she expected him to be. His hands slid to the back of her skirt and, within a second, she felt the zipper slide down, then her skirt dropped to the floor. She was standing in her thong and thigh-highs. If she were going to back out, this was the one move guaranteed to make her run for the hills.

She didn’t. In fact, she kicked the fabric away while she undid the buttons on his shirt. She meant to act strong but her fingers were trembling and she fumbled with the last buttons. Or perhaps it had more to do with the way he was stroking her thighs, running his fingertips along the edge of her hose before cupping her backside.

God, he had good hands, firm and large enough to support her as she wrapped one leg around him to pull him tight. So they could press heat to heat despite the fabric between them. Lord, he felt so good that she thought about impaling herself right then and there. She wanted him deep inside her; she wanted to be stretched to the very limit.

With that thought in mind, she went to the button of his trousers, but her fingers were too clumsy and there wasn’t enough space as he pushed her firmly against the padded wall. A second later, he was pressing his full body against hers, trapping her fingers. Her hands were useless as he began to thrust, groin to groin, over and over in a steadily building rhythm.

Oh, unfair! she thought. Her hands were pinned but his were free to pop open the buttons of her blouse. The black lace bra beneath had a front clasp, and so it took no time at all for him to free her breasts. He filled his hands with her and began to squeeze in just the right ways. She let her head drop back as hunger shuddered through her body.

Her heart thrummed, her skin flushed hot and her breath came in tight gasps as he manipulated her nipples. She didn’t remember ever having the desire build so fast before. He couldn’t be able to make her come without even pulling down his pants!

He bent down to put his mouth on her breasts. She knew without a doubt that if he was as skilled there as he seemed to be everywhere else, then she’d lose their little game within seconds. He was that good—or it had been that long for her. Either way, she wasn’t going to give up that easily. With a sudden surge of strength, she freed her hands and shoved him away.

He stumbled backward. Not far, but enough that she could take some measure of control back. Dispensing with the niceties, she grabbed either side of his shirt and yanked. Buttons popped off and his shirt was halfway down his arms in a single motion.

His eyes widened as he looked down at first himself, then at her. “That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

She grinned. She’d guessed he liked women who could match him power for power. Clearly she was right. With another yank, she had the shirt all the way down to his wrists, but the cuffs caught and held.

“Take it off the rest of the way,” she ordered, “or I’ll just rip it.”

He shook his head, his white teeth flashing again. “You’re not that strong.”

She arched her brow. “It’ll hurt.”

His grin widened, so she took the challenge. She jerked as hard as she could, but the fabric was stronger than she expected. As she was busy hauling on his shirt, he used her movement to spin her around and trap her backward against his chest. And worse, his shirt now held her captive whereas he had an arm free to stroke her.

If it were only his free hand caressing her shoulder, her breasts, her belly, she would have had less trouble resisting him. But then he did something no man had ever done to her before. His lips found the back of her neck. Not just the base of her skull but lower along her spine, as his chin pushed her blouse aside.

She felt his breath across her skin, the stroke of his lips as he teased her flesh, and then the slight scrape of teeth before the soothing circle of his tongue. On her neck and all the way down to between her shoulder blades. Her entire nervous system went limp with delight. God, never before had a man found that zone and used it to his advantage like that.

The wave was upon her before she even knew it was coming. She cried out in shock as she lost control of her body. Waves of pleasure rolled through her. They were sudden and wild and the best orgasm she’d had in years.

Thank God, he held her through it all, his arms firm, his stance solid. She might have collapsed onto the floor in an undignified, boneless heap otherwise. But he was a gentleman, supporting her as she writhed in his arms. And when she finally recovered, when she at last found enough strength to settle her feet beneath her, only then did she look up to his face. He’d won their bet, and so she expected to see a very male smirk. She didn’t. His expression was open in surprise. She might even have said he looked dazed.