In Good Hands. Kathy Lyons
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“Take it off the rest of the way,” she ordered, “or I’ll just rip it.”
He shook his head, his white teeth flashing again. “You’re not that strong.”
She arched her brow. “It’ll hurt.”
His grin widened, so she took the challenge. She jerked as hard as she could, but the fabric was stronger than she expected. As she was busy hauling on his shirt, he used her movement to spin her around and trap her backward against his chest. And worse, his shirt now held her captive whereas he had an arm free to stroke her.
If it were only his free hand caressing her shoulder, her breasts, her belly, she would have had less trouble resisting him. But then he did something no man had ever done to her before. His lips found the back of her neck. Not just the base of her skull but lower along her spine, as his chin pushed her blouse aside.
She felt his breath across her skin, the stroke of his lips as he teased her flesh, and then the slight scrape of teeth before the soothing circle of his tongue. On her neck and all the way down to between her shoulder blades. Her entire nervous system went limp with delight. God, never before had a man found that zone and used it to his advantage like that.
The wave was upon her before she even knew it was coming. She cried out in shock as she lost control of her body. Waves of pleasure rolled through her. They were sudden and wild and the best orgasm she’d had in years.
Thank God, he held her through it all, his arms firm, his stance solid. She might have collapsed onto the floor in an undignified, boneless heap otherwise. But he was a gentleman, supporting her as she writhed in his arms. And when she finally recovered, when she at last found enough strength to settle her feet beneath her, only then did she look up to his face. He’d won their bet, and so she expected to see a very male smirk. She didn’t. His expression was open in surprise. She might even have said he looked dazed.
She twisted, her legs still wobbly. But before she could ask her question, he swooped down to kiss her. It was a deep kiss, but it was also gentle, almost reverent.
“You’re amazing,” he said. “That was…amazing. I’ve never seen a woman look so hot when she comes.”
She didn’t know how to answer. After all, she was the one who’d just come without even stepping out of her thong. He was the one with the incredible mouth. And now, when she was obviously speechless with shock, his smile did shift to a cat-ate-the-canary grin. And then he slowly unwound her from his shirt.
“Name it,” he said when she was standing directly before him.
She blinked. “Name what?”
“The time and place for round two.”
5
ROGER DIDN’T TRY to hide his grin as Amber struggled to find her dignity. She needn’t bother. He thought her the sexiest thing alive just as she was. She had that cool exterior, but she’d come apart in his arms. Just from what he’d done to her neck. And didn’t that just make him feel like a major stud?
It didn’t even bother him that he had a boner the size of the Sears Tower. He was beyond happy—and that was the most bizarre thing given that they were still trapped in this damn elevator.
Meanwhile, Amber blinked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “I never…” she began. “I mean, it’s been a while, but never before…” She shook her head, put her hands to her red cheeks and groaned. “I don’t know what to say.”
She looked so vulnerable that he reached out a finger and stroked just below her left ear. It was all he could touch behind her hands. “You don’t have to say anything. It was great. Seriously.”
Her hands fell away, and she frowned at him. “Okay, so you are gay.”
He blinked, his vision of himself as a male stud disappearing by the second. “What?”
“To put it in Claire’s words, no man is that virtuous unless he’s gay.”
He laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but just the idea that they had been taking bets on his sexuality seemed funny to him. He was so not gay. And to prove it, he grabbed hold of her hand and pressed it hard against his length.
God, that felt good. She knew how to hold a man, even through his trousers. Right pressure, right stroke. His breath shuddered through him and his eyes practically rolled back in his head.
“Not gay,” he said. “Want me to prove it?”
“Yes,” she breathed, and his eyes snapped open. Her skin was still flushed, but there was definite hunger in her eyes. “God, yes,” she repeated when he just stared at her.
He didn’t stop this time. He didn’t hold himself back, and he sure as hell didn’t go easy on her. He had her pressed up against the wall in a second. Her blouse was still open, her bra swinging free, so he could have filled his hands with her breasts. He wanted to fill his hands with her breasts because she had great ones. But his hands were too busy dropping his trousers.
Thankfully, she was helping him, her hands shaking as much as his. And when his pants and boxers finally dropped to his ankles, they both released a moan of pleasure.
Her thong was in the way, and he started to peel it down. But she grabbed him by the ears—ouch!—and pulled him eye to eye.
“I ripped yours,” she said.
He grinned. “As you wish.” Then he grabbed both edges of the lacy elastic and pulled. She watched him do it, her eyes lit with joy.
“That is so hot!” she breathed. Then when he was going to go right back to her, she pressed a hand to his chest. “Condom.”
He bent down to his pants and pulled his wallet out, flipping it open to the appropriate pouch. But again she stopped him with a touch, this time on his wrist.
“How long has that been in there?”
He frowned a moment, thinking back. Erg. Much too long. Sure, he had dates with hot women, but it’d been over a year since he’d brought one home with him. “Better go with yours.”
She leaned down to get her purse, and he almost came right there. Even though she’d bent her knees in a rather demure pose considering she was naked in all the important parts, he could see the pink rounded curves of her bottom, and knew just how fabulous it would feel to flip her around and drill her from behind.
He didn’t. That would be crass. And besides, he didn’t have the condom on yet. But he could imagine and stroke those luscious curves as she moved.
She was still bent down when she turned to pass him the foil packet, giving him a mischievous wink. “Like what you see?” she asked. And then, damn if she didn’t extend her legs slowly while keeping her head down. Good God, she was flexible!
His hands were shaking as he suited up in record time. To hell with crass. She was giving him the choice, and he took it. It was only a half step to position himself, and then—yes!—a single, deep thrust and he was embedded inside her.
She gasped, her back arching beautifully. But then she gripped him. A long, low squeeze that started at his base and rolled up to the tip. Tight and hard and where had she learned to do that? He made a sound that might have been a growl, and she chuckled right before she did it again.
That was it. His brain fuzzed completely out and there was no stopping him. He grabbed hold of her hips and began to pump. He meant to pay more attention to her pleasure—God knows, he meant a lot of things—but he had no control. Not when she kept squeezing him like that.
And then, sweet heaven, she tumbled over the edge. She arched and cried out. Her grip became impossibly tight before she began to milk him in a strong pull. He slammed into her one last time, then erupted like never before. Holy cow, he even blacked out for a moment. And the pleasure of that release was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Heaven. Pure heaven!
But