Page 21 of Body Shot

In the morning, she downs a fast cup of coffee then heads home. “Thanks for coming to the bar with me last night,” she says as we linger at my door. “It was fun, right?”

“Right.” Whoa baby, yes.

“I’ll figure something else out for us to do next weekend.”

I shake my head, smiling. “Okay, sure.”

I spend the rest of the day reviewing all the information I need for the presentation I’m making tomorrow at the National Health Institute. While we’re making progress with our research, enough that we’ve been able to attract the attention of various corporations, government research councils and charitable foundations, we have to continue to work on raising the funds we need to operate.

My usual focus is fractured. When it comes to work, I’m usually single-minded and conscientious, but I can’t seem to stop my brain from replaying what happened last night at Conquistadors. Over and over. Not just my brain, my body also can’t stop reliving it. I’ve never experienced sensations like that before—the adrenaline rush of taking a risk, of doing something so spontaneous and sensual and erotic. The unbelievable pleasure Beck gave me.

I’ve lived in a world of intellect for so long, not a world of physical, carnal pleasure. I’m cautious, not reckless. Sensible, not senseless. I give up. Maybe if I just close my eyes and go through it all from start to finish, that will get it out of my head. Like the sweetest dream, I drift, remembering,You want me to pour that tequila over you and lick it off.

God! I picture that—golden tequila trickling between my breasts and Beck’s dark head right there to lap it up. When he sucked on my nipples, I thought I was going to implode, melting right into a puddle in his hands. Giving myself over to the sensuality of it—tasting that tequila, letting the warmth spread through my body, pooling at my core. Then tasting the cinnamon and caramel on Beck’s lips. His hungry, demanding kisses, his tongue in my mouth.

Damn. Now I’m almost as aroused as I was last night, and since that was highly aroused, I’m pretty damn wet and aching. I bite my lip and look around my home office. I’m alone, why not? I slide lower into my chair, spread my legs and slip my hand beneath my shorts and into my panties.

You want me to fuck you, gorgeous?

I can’t believe I asked for that. I wanted it more than anything in that moment, which is scary because I have big goals and dreams I’ve been working on for so long, and that all disappeared in a heartbeat. All I could think of was assuaging the fierce ache between my legs . . . and Beck.

“Yes,” I moan aloud, fingers finding slick heat. My tongue swipes over my bottom lip, eyes still closed. “Yes, please fuck me.”

I relive the feel of Beck’s beard on my inner thighs and the sensitive skin of my pussy. Even now I feel the residual effects of that . . . my flesh lightly abraded, my thighs sore. I find my clit and circle one fingertip over it . . . oh God, yes, that feels so good . . .

I remember my panties ripping, him entering me . . . so thick and hard. He’s a big man . . . stretching my tight channel with his cock, filling me with such a delicious pressure, pleasure pulling up hard and tight inside me, just like it is now, twisting and burning . . .

My cell phone buzzes on the desk. I jerk my hand out of my panties and bolt up in the chair, nearly falling off it.Shit.It’s not like someone just walked in on me; why am I so jumpy?

Biting my lip with guilt, I grab my phone and peer at it. I don’t recognize the number. I swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, gorgeous.”

Beck. I’d recognize that smoky voice anywhere. “Hi.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound out of breath.”

“No, I-I was just . . .”Masturbating. While thinking of you . . .”Um, doing some work.”

“Really? Your work makes you sound sexy.”

My cheeks burn and I close my eyes. If he knew what I was really doing . . .

“I have something for you I want to drop off.”

I swallow. “Now?”

“Sure. Unless it’s a bad time for you.”

I struggle to fill my lungs with oxygen, the adrenaline rush of being interrupted doing the two-fingered slot rumba tingling through my veins. I shouldn’t do this . . . “No, it’s fine.”

“Just need your address, sexy girl.”

Oh God. I’m not a sexy girl. But right now I feel . . . yes, sexy. Wanton. And dammit, aroused. I give him my address and a few brief directions.

“On my way.”

Great. Fantastic. I set down my phone with trembling hands. My pussy pulses with unfulfilled need. I just need to come . . . it’ll take him a while to get here. Probably. Actually I have no idea where he lives, or where he was calling from . . .

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