Page 35 of Taken With You
That wiggle turned into a shift of position. She must be uncomfortable, slumped like that against the cabinet. He slid himself out of her body. While he shucked off the condom, she straightened up and, gripping the counter’s edge, dropped to her feet. He tossed the evidence of their pleasure in the pull-out garbage bin and then straightened up to find her leaning into him, face upturned.
An imp danced in her eyes. “Tell me you have more of those.”
“Enough for the night.” Her hair tumbled in sex-rumpled disarray, and he did his best to keep it that way by rifling his fingers through it more. “I like this new partnership you’re proposing. But it could use more work.”
“I second that motion.”
“The resolution passes.” He gestured to the hall. “Shall we move this meeting upstairs?”
She grinned and stepped past him, crouching to scoop up the discarded dress and thong before straightening. Despite her nudity, she strode down the hallway like a runway model, glancing over her shoulder with a wink as she caught him watching. Hell, a monk couldn’t pull his eyes away from that heart-shaped ass as it shifted in alluring ways.
His heart pounded harder. He was already dreaming about what he would do to her. He wanted her lost in pleasure, if only to bind her closer to him.
What the hell?
He shook off the thought, one of many that threatened to creep in and spoil the purity of this pleasure. Tomorrow was soon enough to consider the complications of tangling in the sheets with his business partner. Tonight, he had to taste every inch of her, take her body from every angle, and work out some of the heat that had been building up. He was pretty damn sure this wasn’t just a clash of hungry libidos, but that left him only with more questions.
As she climbed the stairs ahead of him, giving him a cock-teasing view, all those questions burned to ashes. She turned around at the head of the stairs, giving him a perfect view of curve of waist and ass.
“My place,” she said, gesturing to her closed door, “or yours?”
“Mine. Bigger bed.”
More room to maneuver.
“Oooh, lovely.” She twisted on a slender heel. “I’ve been dying for a peek into the lion’s den.”
He followed her through the shadows. She swung his bedroom door open and then fumbled against the wall in search of a switch. The room lit up, brighter than it needed to be. The brightness illuminated an angry pink blush on her backside. Maybe he’d been a bit too rough with her against the counter.
His worry faded when she cast him a gaze still logy with pleasure. “Original furniture, right?”
He shrugged at the unmade bed, the faded throw rugs strewn with his climbing clothes, and garish gunmetal headboard. Redecorating wasn’t high on the list of the things that had to be done. He was grateful that the Brunichelli heirs had been willing to sell it to him, lock, stock, and barrel.
“Not even a framed picture on the nightstand. It appears like you’re just visiting, Garrick. Like it’s a hotel room.”
He was, and it did. “Like a hotel room,” he said, turning the light dial to dim, “the bed is very comfortable.”
Her languid blink suggested she was allowing him get away with the dodge, at least for now. He didn’t want to waste time talking about how he was always on airplanes. How he had a house in the Hamptons but rarely spent any time in it. How his CFO was already screaming for him to come back to Manhattan, and his operating manager kept calling him about fires that needed to be put out. Bringing her into this bedroom pleased him in many ways, not the least of which was finally having something personal in his temporary living space.
He stepped into her, seized that waist, and kissed those lips he’d long swept clean of gloss. They were softer now, tender, and encouragingly eager to engage.
He slid one hand up to her curious black bra. Beneath the silky material, he weighed the soft give of her perfect breasts.
“I’ll show you,” she whispered against his mouth, “how to peel it off, if you’d like.”
“Can I do it with my teeth?”
“Another time,” she murmured. “I’ll remind you.”
She stepped back, right up against the end of the bed, and then gripped her own breasts. His balls tightened as she squeezed. Curling her fingers beneath the edge of the bra, she pulled gently, separating the cups from her skin from the top down, until the cups of the bra lay upside down in her hands, and her sweet, firm breasts were revealed with a pout of rosebud nipples.
His mouth watered as if one tight peak was already against his tongue. Two steps and he could have one in his mouth. But she’d put somethingelsein his mind earlier, something he couldn’t stop thinking about.
He stepped over to his closet, the slider already open. His suitcase lay half unpacked on the floor. He reached in amid the half-empty hangers, never taking his eyes off her, until his hand curled over two lengths of silk.
He pulled them out. “I made you a promise.”
The bra tumbled out of her hands.
