Amy J. - Single Father Seeks...

He chuckled darkly as she melted, her leg slipping limply off his shoulder as she sank down, sliding down the wall and straddling his thighs.

“There’s a bed a few feet away,” he said.

“Too far,” she gasped, rocking against his thickness.

He reached for his trousers, fumbled in the pocket, and she barely noticed because he never took his mouth from her. He bent her back over his arm, and then he was inside her, driving upward and clasping her against his wide chest.

“Oh, sweet heaven,” he groaned, cupping her bottom and giving her hips motion because he couldn’t stop it. Bryce pushed his fingers into her hair, loving the sounds she made, that she was as demanding as he, because he craved her. Craved. He’d never hungered for a woman from first sight, never had instant fantasies and instant arousal as he had with just looking at her. The moment he spotted her in that plain black dress, standing off to the side, he’d been preoccupied with her. Wondering what was under that simple dress, enjoying the shift of silk as she walked. Wondering what she looked like with her hair down instead of in that tight, reserved twist. He even liked the way she sipped champagne. And the way she looked at him, slow and possessive. As if she knew what he looked like naked, and she was in a hurry to see it firsthand. As if she knew one touch and they’d be unrestrained and reckless like this.

No one would have suspected. She had an innocence in her face, a cheerleader all-American scrubbed clean look, but a body like a movie star. All woman, ripe and curvy. Not skinny and flat. He loved it. And knew, even if she wasn’t rocking against him, that he held a real woman in his arms. A woman who enjoyed being a woman. And he wanted to do nothing but see pleasure on her beautiful face.

Bryce got down to the business of giving her exactly what she wanted and tasted every inch of her he could reach, stroked her, nipped and soothed and discovered the backs of her thighs were extremely sensitive. Then suddenly, they were over the top, thrashing against each other, rolling across the lush carpet. In the space of a few minutes they tried three positions, laughing as they contorted, then gasping when the friction was almost too much to bear, hurrying, taking only seconds for a thick kiss, and when he had her beneath him, vulnerable, he pushed into her with a measured deliberation that made her cry out and claw for him. She locked her legs around his hips and thrust and pulsed, touching him everywhere, and he held her off the floor, pushing and retreating, watching her pleasure ignite over her exquisite features. He would take that moment with him forever, he thought. Never had he been with a woman who was so confident in herself, in her sexuality, and it made him want her more. She gave as much as she took.

Then it came.

The heavy rush of heat and sensation, a tingling so intense it felt like needles on his spine. Like a throbbing wave about to crash. Suddenly she gripped his jaw and whispered, “Take me with you,” and he pushed, once, twice, and they reached for the stars together.

She cried out and bowed like a ribbon of womanly passion.

Time stopped. Soft moans and panting breaths filling the expensive hotel room. Moonlight spilled through the windows and coated them as his desire beat a throbbing pulse inside her, stretching as her feminine muscles flexed and pawed around him.

Bryce looked down at her, trembling with the power of their loving and she smiled up at him, pulling his weight onto her. She was barely sated, her foot sliding up his calf, his thigh, her hands stroking him, holding him as if she’d known him all her life and not just the past few hours.

With a hard sigh, he rolled to his side, tucking her close, yet before they could catch their breath, pagers went off, a cell phone rang.

He kissed her deeply. “Ignore them.”

“I can’t.” But she kissed him back anyway, then disentangled herself from him.

He rose up, reaching for her. “Where are you going?”

“I have to answer that.” She knew from experience that whoever was on the other end of that line would not give up. “Don’t want hotel security coming up and asking why we’re still making so much noise, right?”

He didn’t give a damn. He wanted her again.

But she was already going for the phone, gathering her clothes as she talked softly. She looked back at him, and he let his gaze roam her naked body, to the deep chestnut brown hair spilling down her back. Man, she was luscious. She smiled, returning the stare with equal intensity. He felt himself grow hard again. Then she slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

Bryce looked around at the debris of clothes, and started to reach for them, then gave up and fell onto the carpet.

He’d never done anything like that before. Never.

A total stranger. A siren in a little black dress and pearls.

Less than five minutes later she came out of the bathroom, fully dressed and pulling on the strappy little sandals that made him want to taste her ankles. She walked to him and stopped. He hadn’t moved. Good grief, he could still scarcely breathe.

“I have to go,” she said and her eyes were all business.

“Now?”

Her sudden smile was small and purely feminine. “Yeah. No strings remember?”

“And no names.”

She tipped her head to the side. “It’s better this way. You have an important job and I’d just be a complication.”

“Just who the hell are you?”

“An embassy secretary.”

“Liar.”

Her expression, one that had been so open with emotion minutes ago, slammed closed. Cold. Detached. And making him think that the woman standing before him now was a ghost of the passionate creature he’d held in his arms. He didn’t like it.

She tossed him his pager, and he caught it. “The first lady is calling you.”

He looked at the pager and wondered how she could tell from just a number. Or was that just an educated guess? Most Secret Service agents in a crowd didn’t look very secretive. When he looked up, she was lowering onto his lap, her arms wrapping his neck. Her mouth played over his with a heat that seared him again.

Now this was the woman he wanted to be with. “Can I interest you in another round, darlin’?” he said against her lips as his hands moved under the hem of her dress.

What a temptation, to discard her duties and have another romp with this hunk of man. But her partner needed her. “You could always interest me, secret agent man. But, I have to go.”

She stood, bent to kiss him once more, leaving her scent branded into his skin, and he lay there like an idiot and watched her walk out of his life. Forever. He knew it was forever. Excitement like that was once in a lifetime and neither of them, obviously had the time or the will to grab hold and keep it. Bryce had a feeling that the lady in black was just a dream and none of this was real.

Five years later

Beaufort, South Carolina

Ciara needed to hide. To go deep under.

In a spot not even the CIA would think to look.

The world was a big place. She could be anywhere, right?

And this small southern town was just the right ticket. It was historical and touristy. If need be, she could blend in. A CIA safe house, a cabin in the wilderness would have been better, but she’d have to go through agency contacts to get one and Ciara wasn’t trusting anyone just yet.

She’d already trusted the wrong man, she thought with a cynical twist to her lips and a glance in the rearview mirror to see if she were being followed. And that’s the reason she was dropping out of sight.

She blamed most of that on herself. With the exception of a one-night affair five years ago, she’d been burned enough by men whose job it was to lie and deceive and gain crucial information. When did she get so clueless about them? When had she refused to believe a thing a man said? Gee, she thought. Maybe when her partner started showing up late for rendezvous and had more cash than they earned in a year. And the worst of this was, that two years ago they’d been lovers. Though it was long over, she’d let old feelings interfere with her judgment, and didn’t see what was really going on. And it had taken her a while to admit it. He’d used her emotionally and professionally, and that she’d allowed it to happen was too humiliating to swallow. She’d never make that mistake again. Not with any man.