Blackmailed Into His Arms. Margaret Mayo
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fingers dug into the flesh of her buttocks, pulling her closer to meet him on each thrust.
Harder, faster, he drove the air from her lungs, his own breaths coming rapidly. She tightened her legs around his waist, her nails raking his sweat-slick back.
“Chase,” she moaned.
“Elena,” he groaned in return before burying his face in the curve of her neck and biting gently on the taut line of muscle that ran across to her shoulder.
The orgasm, when it came, rocked her, made the room feel like it was spinning around them and spilled through her like a tidal wave. She gasped … then stopped breathing altogether. Above her, Chase gave one deep, final thrust and shouted with completion.
A second later, he collapsed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Instead of being uncomfortable, she smiled at the boneless, total relaxation taking over his body. She could feel his heart racing in his chest, in tandem with her own, his breath stirring her hair.
Sooner than she’d have liked, he groaned and rolled away. He lay flat on his back, arms and legs spread wide, while he continued to breathe heavily.
“You’ll be the death of me, Elena,” he said with a heartfelt sigh, rolling his head to the side so he could look at her. He grinned. “But I’ll die a happy man.”
Before she could respond, he pushed up from the bed and walked stark naked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Suddenly conscious of her blatant nudity and the fact that she was sprawled like a rag doll in a less-than-attractive position, she hopped up and hurried to the dresser for a nightgown.
Slipping it on, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were rosy, the rest of her skin aglow. Her lips looked puffy, reminding her of that old term, “bee-stung.”
She’d never had bee-stung lips before. But then, she’d never been kissed quite as senseless, quite as passionately before, either.
Since her hair was a tousled mess, she ran her fingers through to untangle the long strands, turning just as the bathroom door opened. Chase stood there, still blessedly naked, his hands braced on either side of the doorjamb. Just the sight of him made her pulse pick up and the slippery fabric of the nightie feel rough against her bare skin.
“You didn’t have to get dressed on my account,” he quipped.
She smiled somewhat nervously, curling her painted toes into the soft, thick carpeting. “I’m not used to lying around in the altogether.”
“Too bad,” he said, striding forward and stopping directly in front of her. Using the knuckle of his index finger, he tipped her head up until she had no choice but to meet his crystal blue eyes. “That’s something I’d pay money to see. Besides, we weren’t entirely finished with our dessert. We still have champagne and quite a few strawberries to get through.”
“Well …” she said slowly, butterflies flapping sensuously in her belly, her courage growing in direct proportion to the longing heating up his gaze. Hooking her thumbs under the thin spaghetti straps at her shoulders, she slowly began to peel them down her arms. “It’s just a teeny, tiny scrap of satin. You could get it off again in no time, if you really wanted to.”
Desire flashed across his face, followed by the wicked lift of one dark brow. “Really?”
He replaced her thumbs with his own fingers and finished the job of sliding the top of the nightgown down, uncovering her chest, then her breasts and ribcage. As soon as the straps were free of her arms, he released them, letting the garment drop to the floor where it pooled around her feet.
“Well, will you look at that,” he murmured in mock astonishment. “You’re naked again. Just the way I like you.”
She squealed in surprise when he wrapped his hands around her waist and bent slightly to lift her onto one shoulder.
“Chase! What are you doing?”
“Turning caveman,” he responded without apology.
Stalking to the bed, he flipped her over and dropped her unceremoniously in the middle of the king-size mattress. She bounced on the tight springs and giggled as she couldn’t remember doing since she was a little girl.
Taking two steps to the side, Chase grabbed the bottle of Cristal by its long neck and then hopped on top of her, pinning her in place.
“This time,” he said, his tone leaving no question of his intent, “I want to see how champagne tastes when I sip it from your belly button.”
“All right,” she agreed, stretching out, ready to once again be a part of this man’s dessert. “As long as I can do the same to you.”
Six
The next morning Chase got up even earlier than usual, slipping out of the bedroom while Elena was still asleep. He closed the connecting doors so nothing he said would be overheard, then set about rescheduling his appointments for the day. It wasn’t an easy task, considering most of the meetings had been set up weeks in advance and it was earlier than most of his associates’ offices opened.
But by the time Elena made an appearance—once again wearing the short, sexy green nightie and matching robe that accentuated the emerald of her eyes—his day was clear and he was ready to put his plan into motion.
Although he was chomping at the bit to get going, he tried his best to act normal. He sipped his coffee and read the paper. When she pressed him to eat breakfast, he grumbled, but managed to down a couple of sausage patties and half of the western omelet she transferred from her plate to his.
An hour later, he rose from the table and repeated his speech from the day before, telling her he would be busy until dinnertime and that she should go out and have fun, at his expense. He handed her the same gold card and pile of cash she’d left on the dresser yesterday.
Out in the hall, he took the elevator to the lobby, but instead of leaving the hotel the way he normally would, he found a spot behind a bank of slot machines where he could keep an eye on the entrance without being seen.
He waited longer than he’d expected, checking his watch every few minutes. It took more than an hour for Elena to finally step off the elevator and head for the revolving doors leading outside.
She wore brown chunky heels, loose linen slacks the color of sunflowers and a form-fitting top with renaissance sleeves. Dark-tinted sunglasses were perched atop her head, and she carried a good size tan tote on one shoulder.
Hopping up from his stool, Chase followed her, staying a fair distance behind so she wouldn’t spot him. She stopped on the sidewalk, pulling the sunglasses down to shade her eyes from the bright mid-morning sun as she glanced in both directions, then started walking.
It seemed to Chase that they strolled down the street for an awfully long time. The sidewalks were already crowded, tourists flooding in and out of casinos and storefronts. Perspiration beaded his brow and pooled inside his thousand-dollar designer suit.
He was no stranger to working up a sweat, having grown up on a working ranch in Texas, where it could get just as hot as Nevada. Even though he’d chosen a different path and had more money than Croesus, he still enjoyed spending the day helping his parents or brother on their connecting properties. Currying horses, shucking hay, fixing fences … He just didn’t usually do any of those things in a fine Italian suit that cost more than his brother’s favorite saddle.
If Elena didn’t get to where she was going soon, he was going to give up and flag down a taxi to take him back to the Wynn.
Almost as soon as he thought it, she turned into a storefront. He stayed outside, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the giant plate glass windows.
So she was shopping, after all, he thought. The confusing part was that it wasn’t a fancy boutique, didn’t carry shoes or jewelry or designer clothes. It was a candy and toy store, full of fun, colorful products that would have had any child squealing