Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After: Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texas Billionaire's Baby. Lois Dyer Faye
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“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about you being here—in my room. And in my bed.”
He brushed kisses over her jawline, cheeks, temples. Jennifer’s eyes drifted closed and his lips moved softly over her lashes and against her sensitive skin. Just that quickly, she fell back into the haze of need and desire so abruptly interrupted moments before.
She threaded her fingers into the thick, silky dark hair at the nape of his neck and urged him closer until his lips met hers.
Heat built, quickly becoming a firestorm as the kiss turned urgent. Without taking his mouth from hers, Chance lowered the zipper at the skirt of her dress. The backless gown had a sewn-in bra and his fingers stroked over the bare skin of her back.
Jennifer reluctantly lowered her arms from around his neck, a quick shrug sending the loosened gown free to pool at her feet. She knew a moment of self-consciousness when Chance stepped back, his dark eyes searing as he swept her from head to toe with one swift glance. She wore only a tiny pair of red lace bikini panties, thigh-high sheer hose and the red stiletto heels.
“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, bending to brush a quick, hard kiss against her mouth before taking a step back again.
His gaze focused on hers, he stripped his tie loose and dropped it on the floor, shrugged out of his tux jacket and tossed it behind him.
He caught her waist in his hands and drew her nearer.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he instructed, his voice husky with arousal. His thumbs moved in slow circles, as if he was unable to stop caressing her.
Reassured, Jennifer took only seconds to slip the black studs free. When she finished, Chance took them from her cupped hand and dropped them on the nightstand before holding up his hand. Jennifer unfastened the cuff links, one by one, and dropped them on the pile of studs. Chance immediately shrugged out of the shirt, pulling her flush against him, his hands threading into her hair to tilt her face up to his. When his mouth settled over hers, Jennifer sank into the sensation of his soft lips, gentle and demanding all at once.
The hard muscles of his bare chest teased her sensitive breasts, the fabric of his tux slacks faintly rough against her thighs. And his lips on hers sent desire throbbing through her veins.
She murmured incoherently and Chance laid her back on the bed before he stood, toeing off his shoes, pulling off his socks, unzipping and shoving his pants and boxer shorts down his legs. He bent and pulled open the drawer in the bedside table, ripped open a packet and a second later, rolled on protection. Then he leaned over her, slipping his thumbs under the narrow bands of red lace on her hips to tug her panties down her legs. He dropped the bit of lace and silk on the floor behind him before bending to press a kiss against the faint outward curve of her belly.
Jennifer gasped at the heated brush of his mouth against her sensitive skin. He stroked his tongue over the indentation of her belly button and she moaned. Frantic to have him closer, she tugged at his arms, fingers clutching the hard muscles of his biceps to urge him nearer.
He surged on top of her, his mouth taking hers with urgency, one knee nudging hers apart to make space for him. Then he was inside her. Jennifer cried out, drowning in pleasure and need.
It had been too long for her and, all too soon, Chance drove her over the edge.
Sated and drowsy, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her, a slow smile curved the sensual line of his mouth.
“I’m guessing it was good.” His words weren’t a question but she nodded, too satisfied and boneless to speak, nonetheless.
“Let’s try it again,” he murmured against her mouth.
And a moment later, despite being certain she couldn’t move a muscle, Jennifer was again burning with heat, twisting urgently beneath his mouth, hands and the steady thrust of his powerful body.
Just after midnight, hunger lured them out of bed and downstairs to raid the refrigerator. Dressed only in Chance’s white tux shirt, the long tails hitting her at mid-thigh and sleeves rolled to her elbows, Jennifer perched on a tall stool and propped her elbow on the island countertop, leaning her chin on her hand. The kitchen was beautifully appointed and everywhere she looked, something drew her eye. But after a quick glance around the room, her gaze returned with fascination to Chance. Grey boxer shorts hung low on his hips as he bent to peer into the refrigerator. His powerful shoulders and chest were bare as were his thighs and long legs. Despite the long hours they’d just spent in the bedroom upstairs and although she’d felt sated and content only moments earlier, heat stirred in her belly once again. She shivered as she contemplated running her palms over his back while his weight pinned her to the bed.
“How do you feel about spaghetti and cheesecake?”
Her eyes widened and she straightened. “Yum. What kind of cheesecake?”
He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Regular, I guess, except it has chocolate on the top.”
“Even better,” she said promptly.
He grinned at her, eyes warming. “You like chocolate?”
“Of course, who doesn’t?” she responded.
“I definitely do. The local café has chocolate crepes so good they can make a grown man cry. We’ll get you some for brunch tomorrow.” He turned back to the refrigerator and moments later, nudged the door closed with his hip because his hands were full of food containers.
“Here, let me help.” She jumped down from the counter and hurried to take a plate of cheesecake from him. He’d balanced it on top of a deep blue casserole dish, where it tilted and wobbled precariously.
“Thanks.” Chance slid the casserole onto the tiled counter and removed the glass lid. He stirred the red sauce and spaghetti noodles and popped the dish into the microwave, set the timer and closed the door.
“I think we should seriously consider cutting a bite of cheesecake while we wait for the spaghetti,” Jennifer told him, eyeing the swirls of dark chocolate on top of the cake.
“Sure, why not.” He took a knife and a fork out of a drawer and joined her, bracketing her against the counter with his arms and body. “You cut.” He laid the utensils on the countertop on each side of the cheesecake and bent to nuzzle his face against her nape. His hands settled on her hipbones.
Jennifer closed her eyes, her body going boneless as she melted back against him. His hands slipped beneath the hem of the white shirt and stroked upward, over her belly and midriff to cup her breasts.
“Ohhhh, that’s not fair,” she moaned as her nipples pebbled against his fingers and her hips settled into the cove of his. She tilted her head back against his shoulder, the thick silk of his hair brushing her throat as he bent over her to press his mouth against the upper curve of her breast.
She twisted in his hold, slipping her arms around his neck, her body pressed flush against his as she tugged his mouth down to hers. His hands cupped her bottom, lifting her higher, and the kiss turned hotter, more carnal.
Behind them, the microwave alarm buzzed loudly as the timer went off.
Chance eased back from the kiss and lifted his head.
“Want to skip the spaghetti and cheesecake and make love on the countertop?” he asked, his voice rasping with need.
Jennifer was torn but before she could decide, her stomach growled. They both laughed.
“That’s it. Food wins,” he declared, pressing one last hard kiss against her mouth and stepping back. “First we’ll feed you, then we’ll get naked again. Let’s go back to bed.”
He reached behind her and picked up the cheesecake plate, handing it to her with the knife and fork. “You carry this, I’ll get the spaghetti.”
“What about plates? And don’t we need another fork?” she asked, still disoriented and flushed.
“Nope.”