Vicki Thompson - Drive Me Wild

Alec wasn’t even in the room yet and she was already coming into her own. She smiled seductively at the woman in the mirror and made a soft purring sound. She was going to be bad, very bad.

The door lock clicked.

She leaped back from the mirror and frantically smoothed her hair into place. Who did she think she was? Then she buttoned her suit jacket all the way up to her neck and scrambled for her shoes.

She had one on and was hopping around trying to get the second one in place when Alec opened the door, the doggie bag in one hand and a single red rose in the other. Had she really invited him to make love to her all afternoon? She couldn’t imagine herself ever doing such a thing!

Yet here he was, and she’d practically promised him that a fancy hotel room and her fantasy guy would make her lose her inhibitions. She’d hinted that if he peeled away her nice-girl persona, he’d uncover a purring sex kitten. What had she been thinking?

The room began to spin. Still holding her other shoe, she staggered back toward the bed and sagged against it while she struggled to breathe.

“Molly?”

“Oh, Alec. I…I think I’m going to faint.”

ALEC KICKED the door shut and rushed over. Dropping the rose and the doggie bag to the floor, he lifted her onto the oversize mattress. Her feet dangled above the carpet. “Okay, now put your head between your knees.” He guided her head down. Her hair was even silkier than he’d imagined, but he couldn’t think about that now. His first priority was keeping her conscious. “Breathe deep.”

She gasped for air.

“Through your nose. It gets the oxygen to your brain.”

“How do…you…know that?”

“I was premed for a couple of semesters.” He listened to her breathing and was relieved when it evened out. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine.”

“I—I know. But I can’t…believe this.” Her shoulders started to shake.

“Molly, don’t cry.” He stroked her silky hair. “Everybody panics once in a while. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not crying.” Her giggles erupted as she lifted her head to look at him.

“Hey, you’re not getting hysterical, are you?”

“Maybe.” She grinned at him.

“I’ll bet you could use some water.” He started to turn toward the bathroom.

She put a hand on his arm, holding him in place. “That’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?” He peered into her face.

“It’s just that…” She started laughing again.

“What?”

“Well, I didn’t expect to end up with my head between my knees.”

A rushing sound filled his ears and his heart started beating crazily.

She smiled at him, her pink lips parted, her cheeks flushed. “I thought most likely it would be your—”

He groaned and swooped in for the kiss, going from zero to sixty in three seconds flat, all his careful plans left in the dust. At last he was kissing Molly, and life couldn’t be better. Her mouth tasted like cherry wine—sweet, rich, addictive. He wanted her naked and on her back in that bed. Now.

She seemed to be of the same mind. Shoving her fingers through his hair, she let him have his way with her mouth, and any woman that free with her mouth was ready for some serious loving.

He was just the guy to give it to her, too. Vaguely he remembered a different plan, one that didn’t involve stripping her clothes off immediately, but nothing seemed more important than getting her out of her little suit. If only he could make some headway with the buttons on her jacket, they’d be in business.

Except he was at an awkward angle and the buttons were square. Whoever had put square buttons on this jacket should be shot. Then she got into the act, trying to help him. In the frenzied tangle of fingers, a button popped off and fell to the floor.

He drew back immediately, feeling clumsy. “Damn, Molly. I didn’t mean to—”

“Who cares?” Breathing hard, she glanced down at the front of her jacket and fumbled with the buttons, managing to unfasten two more. “What idiot would think square buttons were a good idea?”

“Somebody who doesn’t like sex.”

“Exactly.” She finally pushed the last button through the hole and glanced up in triumph. “There!”

As the lapels of the jacket drifted aside, Alec expected to see some kind of lacy bra appear. It took him a couple of seconds to realize it wasn’t there. She was all creamy skin and tempting shadows just beyond the line of fabric. He gulped. “You aren’t wearing a—”

“Nope.” She braced her hands on the bed and gazed at him, her color high.

Desire tensed his muscles and interfered with his breathing. “You’ve been like that…all day?”

She smiled at him. “What do you think?”

He wasn’t having much luck thinking about anything except what was under that jacket. “I think you’re incredible. And full of surprises.”

“Thank you.” Her green eyes glowed. “And in case you’re interested, the jacket’s unbuttoned now,” she added softly.

His voice was thick with anticipation. “Oh, I’m interested.” He trembled as he imagined sliding his hands beneath the jacket. Then he remembered the rose he’d brought and then dropped on the floor when she’d started to faint.

It was now or never for that rose. He’d meant to hand it to her with a James Bond flourish, but that moment was long gone. Gazing at her open jacket, he could feel an even better moment coming up.

“I, ah, brought you a rose.” He reached down and picked it up off the carpet.

“That’s very sweet.” She reached for it.

“Wait. Stay like that. Like you were before.”

Looking puzzled, she braced her hands on the bed again. “Like this?”

“Like that. And let me…seduce you. Just a little.”

A LITTLE WAS ALL it would take. Molly’s nerves still vibrated from that humdinger of a kiss. She was ready to start removing clothes and testing the mattress. But if they plunged right in, so to speak, this encounter might turn out like the others she’d had—brief, mildly satisfying, ultimately forgettable. She didn’t want that. She wanted to be inspired.

Alec himself was pretty inspiring, standing in front of her with a fragrant, blood-red rose in one hand. The bud was beginning to open, its outer petals gently unfurling, its inner ones wound into a knot of color. She felt like that rose, her center curled tight with promise while a sweet ache urged her toward the heat, toward bursting into bloom.

Alec’s dark gaze swept over her and his breathing quickened. She waited, her heart dancing, to see what he’d do next. First, he brushed the velvety rose against her cheek, and the look in his eyes made her dizzy all over again. Remembering what he’d said, she breathed in through her nose, imprinting the scent forever on her memory. Now she would always think of Alec whenever she smelled a rose.

He dragged the rose gently across her lips, still moist from his kiss. “You have…a perfect mouth,” he murmured.

Warmth crept through her, coaxing her into a lazy, sensual pace so different from the urgency of a moment ago. The muted sounds of traffic, buffered by the drapes, increased her sense of delicious isolation. Cocooned here with Alec, she could imagine herself doing…anything.

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