Hot in the City. Samantha Hunter
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She moaned, her head falling back.
“Keep kissing me, don’t stop.”
Della wasn’t sure she could do it, the increasing friction and pace of his thrusts blanking her mind and taking her higher, but she did keep kissing him.
She framed his face with her hands, drawing back from the kisses as pleasure spiked. She couldn’t do anything but look in his eyes as her entire body was taken over, the pleasure rippling through every nerve ending, leaving her helpless to do anything but ride it out.
Seconds later, he took her mouth in a wet, hot kiss and groaned so deeply that she could feel the vibrations of the sound all through her. Her arms latched around him as he gave in to his own release, and miraculously triggered another intense, quick climax for her, too.
As his movements slowed, only their ragged breathing and gasps filled the space. Della was still holding on, though they were both slick with sweat, their bodies still clinging, still connected.
“Oh my,” she breathed against his skin, unsure she could stand on her own if he let her go.
He knew, and took her to the sofa, setting her down slowly, and then he sat, too, pulling her alongside him, cuddled against his chest.
“You are...incredible.”
“Me? I just hung on. You were the incredible one,” she said, smiling against his side.
“It’s like I told you on the plane. We’re great together. I had a feeling we would be. I’m glad we had the chance to find out.”
Della paused, her mind clearing somewhat.
“That sounds like a goodbye,” she said.
He tipped her chin up with his fingers, looking down at her. “Not yet. The night is young, and like I said, there are a lot of things I want to do to you, Della.”
Happiness surged and she bit her lip, flirting up at him from beneath her lashes.
“There are a few things I’d like to do to you, too.”
“I can’t wait to find out. But maybe a shower first?”
She nodded, her imagination swimming with the possibilities of what they could do to each other under the hot water.
“That sounds like fun,” she responded with a smile, standing and holding out her hand to him.
He followed her down the hall, and Della smiled secretly to herself, thinking that this was what she had been looking for. The blow-your-mind kind of sex that everyone talked about. She had finally experienced it, and now she was about to experience some more of it.
In fact, she wanted to enjoy as much sex with Gabe as humanly possible before he left, because she had a feeling this was going to be a one-night thing.
Taking his hand as she pulled him into the shower stall, she turned on the water and sank to her knees before him, fully intending to live every single fantasy she could, while she had the chance.
GABE WASN’T PROUD of himself as he snuck around Della’s house while she slept, but it was a necessary evil. After she passed out, he extricated himself from her arms and went downstairs for a more thorough look through her office and then returned upstairs. She was still asleep in the bed, naked, exhausted and wrapped around the tumbled sheets in such a sexy way that he thought about waking her up again. But he wasn’t done.
He slid his fingers along the edges of the built-in bookcases, a small flashlight held between his teeth as he noticed books on just about everything. A good deal of fiction, but also science, math, art and, more unexpectedly, sex.
Several books on the art of lovemaking and the biology of pleasure, he noted with a raised eyebrow.
Well, from his experience, she’d definitely done her research. She wasn’t terribly experienced, he could tell, but she was eager and imaginative. That was preferable, in his book.
He studied the arrangement of the books, looking for anything odd or out of place, something that had been turned differently or was misplaced, but found nothing. No bugs, nothing that would suggest she had been compromised in any way.
Except by him.
He investigated the lamps, her clock, the vents...anyplace someone might hide a camera or a microphone, but there was nothing.
Gabe was happy about that, for several reasons. He shouldn’t have been happy, but there was undeniable relief that Della appeared to have no involvement in his current investigation.
Though he still had to go through the locked files on her computer.
He understood now why she had balked when he’d asked to be taken upstairs earlier in the evening. This part of her home was clearly her private space. The entire home was lovely, but this was the place where she truly escaped.
A huge four-poster bed, very feminine and wickedly comfortable, dominated the room. It had been tough for him to stay awake, waiting for her to drift off.
The white cotton frills that rimmed the canopy were balanced by plain wool rugs and simple furniture that gave the room a Zen feeling. Built-in bookcases lined one wall, and there was an easel near a pair of French doors that led out to a terrace. A half-finished watercolor—amateurish, but still charming—sat on the perch. She was painting the view from her veranda, it seemed. And what might have been a bird, but it was hard to tell, exactly.
“Gabe?” Her sleepy voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts, and he switched off the flashlight quickly, leaving it on the dresser, where he’d found it as he went back to the bed.
“Did I wake you up? Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”
“What are you doing?”
As he approached the bed, his cock twitched with interest. Incredible, after the mini-marathon they’d enjoyed. He hadn’t been this interested in a woman for some time.
“Just looking for my clothes.”
“They’re downstairs,” she said on a yawn.
“Oh right,” he feigned, knowing that, but needing to come up with some excuse in case she’d noticed him hunting around her room.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to. I shouldn’t have stayed this late. Early morning.”
“Oh. Okay,” she said, sounding mildly disappointed, but accepting. “I’ll walk you down.”
“No need for that.”
“I want to. I’m awake anyway.”
She slid out of bed, and he could see the contours of her shape in the sliver of light peeking in through a curtain.
He hardened, and had to keep himself from touching, his mind scrambling to stem his reaction. He usually had much better control over himself than this.
Della switched on a low light and took her robe from the chair near the bookshelves. How could she look even sexier putting something on?
Her mouth was still swollen from their kissing, but her lips turned down slightly at the edges. Her hair was tumbled everywhere around her face from how he’d combed his fingers through it while pressing her down into the mattress. He looked away. Della was far too tempting.
He slid a look as she bent down to pick up something from the floor, the edge of the robe riding up to the edge of her upper thigh. He groaned, crossing to where she stood and sliding his hands over the soft roundness of her backside. He pushed the robe up, nudged his erection against her bottom and heard her catch her breath.
“Maybe I could stay a bit longer,” he said, giving in as she rose and leaned back against him.
She turned to him with a sigh. She planted her hands on his chest