Command Performance. Sara Jane Stone
Читать онлайн книгу.
and looked away, the image too hot to handle over nachos. Was she ready to move beyond chitchat and accidental touches? The new Maggie cried yes, but not here. Not yet. One kiss from this man would lead somewhere, and she didn’t want their first round to be in the backseat of a Toyota at the fairgrounds. Definitely not part of her fantasy.
“So you’re Special Forces and all you can do is change a tire?” she asked, trying to shift the mood before she reconsidered her position on backseat sex.
“You didn’t hear this from me, but over the years I might have learned how to hot-wire a car.” He used one chip to scoop up a pile of loose cheese. She followed the movement of his hand to his mouth. How would those lips feel against her skin, trailing kisses up her inner thighs, lingering over the place that was pushing her closer and closer to saying forget the chips and take me to bed, right now?
Not yet, she reminded herself. Forcing aside the image of hot kisses, Maggie pointed to a table full of knobs and pipes. “But you couldn’t tell me what those are?”
He finished chewing and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want to talk about car parts?”
His leg pressed up against hers, and this time it stayed there. Definitely not an accident. It was as if he couldn’t sit across from her and not touch her. It should have made her nervous, the clear, physical signal that this man wanted her. But it didn’t. Instead, excitement and anticipation flooded her body to the point where she could barely remember what they’d been talking about.
Car parts. He’d asked if she wanted to discuss car parts. The answer was no. But—
“What do you suggest?” she asked.
“Now that we’ve eaten, I’m ready to start thinking about those orgasms you asked for. Unless you need more time. We can take a walk around and peruse the merchandise. But I had to say something. It was starting to feel like the elephant at the table. I keep trying for small talk, but the O word is front and center in my mind.”
“That’s my fault.” She clasped her hands together on the table. “I’m bad at this, and I should never have been so direct.”
“Hey, I liked your approach.” Hunter reached out and rested one of his large hands on top of hers. It was an intimate gesture, but it felt right. More than right, it felt good. Reassuring. “It was a first for me, but a welcome break from most boring getting-to-know-you conversations.”
“So you’ve had a lot of experience with this? With one-night stands?”
“A time or two.” He shrugged. “I’m one of those guys who run away from romantic commitment. But orgasms? Those I can deliver. But first...”
His voice trailed off as he rose slightly, reaching across the table with his free hand.
“What?” she asked.
“You have some cheese on your cheek.”
Cupping her jaw in the palm of his hand, he swept his thumb over her face, gently brushing the corner of her lips. Maggie hadn’t learned much about men growing up, but she recognized the soft stroke against her skin for what it was. It had nothing to do with fake cheese. This man wanted to claim her.
He returned for a second sweep, this time running over the full width of her lips. She leaned into his touch, relishing the warm sensation between her legs. She parted her lips and allowed her tongue to dart out and lick the cheese off his hand. Then, in a move the old Maggie would never have considered, she captured his thumb between her lips and gently drew it into her mouth, sucking lightly. His smile widened, suggesting he liked her bold response to his simple touch. She ran her tongue up and down his thumb the way she longed to lick another part of his anatomy.
Hunter let out a low moan. No doubt he’d understood her unspoken message loud and clear. She didn’t want to be the only one enjoying orgasms tonight.
“Maggie.” He spoke softly, barely above a whisper, his eyes locked with hers.
That one word, her name, made the sizzling heat between them jump from an I-think-I-want-you eight to an I-must-have-you eleven. Forget sex in the backseat of her car. If one of them didn’t pull away soon, they might be heading toward sex on the picnic table after all.
Smiling, he withdrew his hand. Maggie felt the absence from head to toe, but silently promised herself it wouldn’t last long. Once they were alone, she had every intention of running her lips over him again. And she wouldn’t limit herself to his thumb.
“So, what will it be?” he asked, his tone low and seductive.
“Car parts or orgasms?” She tucked a curl behind her ear. “Orgasms, please.”
“I have one more question.” Hunter stood and walked around the table to offer his hand. He’d recovered his light, playful tone, but his gaze remained intent. “Did you drive here?”
Maggie placed her hand in his. “My car’s parked in the lot.”
“Great. My hotel is five minutes from here. Unless you’d rather go to your place?”
“No, we can’t go there.” On her feet and steady, she pulled her hand free and turned to pick up her purse, hoping he hadn’t seen the panicked expression flash across her face. She couldn’t take him home with her. She needed the freedom to walk away in the morning, or tonight, if things didn’t go as planned.
“Marriott it is,” he said playfully. Maggie felt her panic ease. “May I have your keys?”
She led the way to her rented Toyota, rummaging through her bag. She’d gone for sexy shoes, but opted to keep her sensible holds-everything-but-the-sun purse. Including the condoms Olivia had given her. She stumbled as her hand brushed the box.
“Easy.” He took her elbow and guided her through the crowd. Maggie kept her eyes on the exit gate. She felt her face flush and knew if she looked at him now, he’d see the pink in her cheeks. All from a box of condoms. But, oh, the promise they held.
From the corner of her eye, Maggie saw a pair of tall blonde women in strapless tops and painted-on jeans checking out Hunter. Judging from their near-perfect bodies, the blondes did not have a linguine Alfredo problem.
Hunter released her elbow and pressed his palm flat against the bare skin on her back. He drew her closer until her hip brushed the side of his body. Instead of moving away from him, she leaned into his touch, enjoying the way her skin tingled. Half an inch lower and he would have touched the fabric of her shirt, but no, he’d opted for the intimate she’s-mine touch.
“Honey, you’re a helluva lot prettier,” he murmured.
She glanced up at him and followed his gaze to the blonde Barbie look-alikes. “Thanks.”
He smiled down at her. “Find your keys?”
“Right. The keys.” His hand stayed firm against her skin, guiding her through the gate as she turned her attention back to her bag. But she could barely focus. Not when he was touching her. She’d never been so aware of a man, never had her imagination fast-forward to where his fingers would go next. Higher or lower?
The sounds of the car show faded as they made their way through the parking lot. “They’re in here somewhere. I can drive. I know where the Marriott is—”
His hand fell away and she instantly missed the feel of him as he allowed her to step in front of him. Five minutes and they would be at the hotel. Five minutes and he’d be touching her again. If only she could find the key...
Warm breath tickled her neck and Maggie lost her train of thought.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. Soft fingertips swept her hair out of the way and then...lips. Soft, full lips.
Oh, God. Oh, my. Oh, yes...
She melted. His arm snaked around her waist, drawing her back against a hard wall of muscle. Sensation rushed down her body, settling into a warm ache as her knees went weak. He’d hit the