Maureen Child - The Highest Bidder

“I do,” she swore, rocking her hips into his hand as he held her. The heat of his palm pressed to her core was agonizing, thrilling. And not nearly enough.

“Not yet,” he whispered, “but soon.”

Then he dipped his head to take one pebbled nipple into his mouth. His lips and tongue tortured her with exquisite care. He lavished attention on first one nipple, then the other, until he had her twisting wildly beneath him while holding his head to her, making her half afraid he would stop.

He suckled her, drawing deep at her breasts, and Charlie whimpered with the sexual need that grew and grew until it was all-encompassing. Vance’s mouth on her breasts. Vance’s hand at her core. Vance’s breath dusting her skin.

A sensual haze dropped over her vision, blurring him, the room, even the slant of sunlight that now looked like a simple wash of gold across everything. She didn’t need to see, she told herself. All she needed was him . All she cared about now was the next touch. The next stroke. The next pull at her breasts.

“Time to lose these,” Vance murmured as he lifted his head to claim a quick, hard kiss. Then he flicked his wrist and the elastic band on her panties snapped.

“Good,” Charlie said, swallowing past the knot in her throat. She parted her thighs for him and he caressed her heat, drawing a sigh from her as she whispered, “That’s good.”

“About to get better,” he promised.

Sliding first one finger then two into her depths, he stroked her, inside and out, until she was trembling, quivering, from head to toe. She clutched at him—arms, shoulders, back. She dragged her nails down his skin, loving the feel of him beneath her hands. His thumb moved over the most sensitive spot at her center and Charlie jolted at the lightninglike sensations that shot through her.

Wild now, hungry beyond the telling of it, she rocked her hips like crazy, trying to take him deeper, higher, and she groaned because it still wasn’t enough. She needed to feel his thick, hard body pushing within. Charlie felt her climax building and coiling inside her and she yearned for it, ached for it.

“More, more,” she whispered, voice broken on a gasp.

“Want it, Charlie. Want it more than your next breath,” he said softly, lifting his head to watch her face.

Her gaze caught with his, she managed to choke out, “I do . Want it. Want you . Always have.” She shook her head from side to side on the cool silk and licked her lips as he pushed her closer, higher, faster. “Always wanted you. Now have to have you. No more waiting, Vance.” Her gaze pinned his. “Now.”

“Now.” He lifted his hand from her core and she nearly wept with the loss of him.

But in seconds, he shifted on the bed, tore off what was left of her panties and tossed the ruined scrap of lace over his shoulder. He ran his palms up and down the length of her legs and smiled when he glanced at the high heels she still wore.

Charlie managed a short laugh in spite of what she was feeling. “Your fantasy?”

“Not until you’re wearing that satisfied smile.”

She wiggled her hips and parted her thighs even farther. “I’m ready when you are,” she said.

“Almost.” He reached for the bedside table, yanked open the drawer and grabbed a condom.

“I didn’t think. I—” Charlie was grateful. She’d been so caught up in the sensual delights, she hadn’t given a single thought to protection.

“Only one of us had to,” he told her as he tore open the foil square, then sheathed himself.

He knelt between her thighs, scooped his hands under her behind and lifted her slightly off the mattress. She looked up into his eyes and saw a need that matched her own. She had never known anything like this before. Hadn’t realized that sex could be so … much . Always before, it had been … nice. Pleasant. But there was nothing “pleasant” about sex with Vance. This was raw, powerful, all-consuming need . If she didn’t feel him inside her soon, Charlie knew she would lose what was left of her mind.

And as that last coherent thought twisted through her brain, Vance pushed himself inside her in one hard stroke.

He was big and thick and oh, so good. Charlie gasped, then groaned his name as she lifted her hips into him, taking him even deeper until he filled her so completely, so totally, she couldn’t imagine ever being without him inside her again. It was as if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment. For this man. She felt it. Knew it deep in her soul.

He moved in her and her body tightened around his, her inner muscles clenching and releasing as he led her into a dance as old as time. Her back arched, her hips rocked furiously as she rode the crashing wave of pleasure he induced.

He set the rhythm and she matched it. He touched her, she stroked her hands up and down his chest, his abdomen. He lifted her legs and set them on his shoulders, allowing him to go deeper, higher within her.

Charlie gasped at each invasion and nearly wept at each retreat. Passion exploded between them and as her climax peaked, sending her shrieking into a world filled with light and color, she heard him shout her name just before she felt him follow.

And as their bodies reached completion, they clung to each other like shipwreck survivors huddled on the shore.

Moments later, Vance whispered, “It’s those shoes, Charlie. Never get rid of those shoes.”

And she laughed, delighted.

In the kitchen twenty minutes later, Vance rustled up some cold Chardonnay, crackers and some cheese. As he took down two wineglasses, he paused for a moment and thought about the woman waiting for him in his bedroom.

Slapping both hands to the granite counter, he let himself remember the incredible feeling of being deep inside Charlie’s body and how he’d had the momentary thought that he’d like to stay that way forever. Almost instantly, he’d instinctively pulled back from that word.

He didn’t do forever. What he did was weeks. Maybe months, tops. Forever was for people too dumb to know that lust wasn’t love. Desire wasn’t lasting and passion cooled off just as fast as it burned.

Reluctantly, he scraped both hands across his face, then pushed them through his hair. He glanced across the room at the view through his windows and told himself to get a grip. What he had with Charlie was damn good, but that’s all it was.

All this self-exploration only went to prove that he’d waited too long between women. It had been more than three months since he’d stopped seeing Sharon—Karen—something.

Scowling now, he realized he not only couldn’t remember her name, he couldn’t remember anything else about her, either. While Charlie, on the other hand, was indelibly etched into his mind. If he never saw her again, he’d still recall everything about her. Never see her again . Okay, he didn’t like that thought, either. But that was only natural, he assured himself. At the beginning of an affair, which this most certainly was going to be, everything was brighter, hotter, better than anything that had come before.

Wasn’t it?

A silent voice inside him argued that Charlie was different from any woman he’d been with. What he’d just shared with her had shaken him right down to his bones and he didn’t even want to try to figure out what that might mean.

Instead, he grabbed the tray of snacks and the glasses in one hand and the bottle of wine with the other and headed back to the bedroom. Just outside the doorway, he muttered, “Keep it simple, stupid.”

Charlie was sitting up in the bed, waiting for him, and everything in Vance stilled for a long second or two. The woman was stunning and just looking at her made him want her all over again. Scowling, he told himself it meant nothing. But a voice in the back of his mind whispered something else entirely.