Bedding the Bachelors Box Set (Books 1-3) (7 page)

She'd ached inside when she'd realized it had just been another fantasy. Just like she always ached for Rhys. And just when she'd started to fall asleep, with the vague idea that maybe Max wasn't going to show, she'd heard the hotel door open.

Now here he was, standing no more than five feet from the bed, his tall form as broad-shouldered and powerful as the one she'd conjured in her fantasy. And although she was a little nervous because she didn't know exactly what was going to happen, she wasn't freaking out. In fact, that slow, lazy glide of slick pleasure had started inside her again, weighing her down with a pleasant but confusing infusion of desire. Obviously, her eyes were seeing Max, but her body was ready to reach out and touch Rhys.

Even without her glasses, she could tell Max was feeling a little off-kilter, as well. Somehow, that gave her added courage.

Wow. She was about to get her game on with one of the Dalton twins, maybe not the right one, but at least the one who, unlike most men in her life, was here to give her what she needed and not the other way around.

Well, kinda.

She took a deep breath. It's showtime.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she got to her feet, then immediately threw out a steadying hand when she swayed.

Whoa. Not wearing her glasses was not only putting a hazy edge to her vision, but throwing her equilibrium off balance, too. Shaking back her hair, her hand still gliding over the bedcovers for balance, she skirted around the mattress toward Max. Deliberately, she threw her shoulders back and kept her chin up.

She was tired of men who sucked in bed and blamed her for their suckiness. She'd take her fair share of responsibility, but not all of it. At least she was proactive. At least she was willing to learn. And who knew? She was a good student. If Max was a good enough teacher, maybe she could make her fantasy come true. Not with Rhys, of course, but maybe with Jamie. And if not with him, then maybe someone else.

Coming to an abrupt halt, she smiled. She was starting to think that her vow to give herself one last chance to find a man was silly. She'd never been a quitter, after all. Pleased with her realization, she raised her gaze to Max.

He hadn't moved. Just continued to stare at her as if her offer to please him had rendered him speechless or, at the very least, given him second thoughts.

They couldn't have that.

Raising her arms, she turned in a slow circle, ending the show with her hands resting on her hips. “Well? Is this sexy enough for you?”

***

Sexy enough?

Was she sexy enough for him?

Rhys licked his lips, but was careful not to make any sudden moves. If he was losing his marbles, he wasn't about to do anything to rattle his brain back to life. With her simple camisole and boy-short underwear, she was showing less skin than women often showed at the pool. Hell, the girls wore less material on stage.

But this was Melina, and he was seeing parts of her he'd never seen before. The surprisingly deep shadow of her cleavage that looked velvety smooth. Hard-tipped nipples poking against the double layer of her bra and thin camisole. And the buttery, smooth skin of her upper thighs that pressed together just underneath the vee of her pussy. Groaning, he couldn't decide which crevice he wanted to explore with his tongue first. The one between her breasts or the one that was trying to protect the vulnerable folds of her sex along with her simple yet feminine underwear.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze jumped to hers. A small furrow had formed between her brows. As he watched, her already pink cheeks flushed until they were cherry red. He saw the moment insecurity began to replace her bravado.

That jerked him out of his daze fast.

She was offering him what he'd craved for years. He wasn't about to embarrass her.

Moving the last few steps toward her, he raised his hand, stroked her hair from her face, then cupped the back of her neck. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up. “I'm good. Better than good. I just never thought you'd actually do it. Come to me, I mean.”

“Of course I would, silly. I have nothing to do all weekend but learn what pleases you. It's my birthday present to myself.”

Rhys's chest tightened. He was her birthday present? Since when? Was it because he hadn't called her? That he'd tried his best to drive her away? Had maintaining his distance finally made Melina realize how much she wanted him? If so, the agony had been worth it. “You've got it wrong, sweetheart. You're giving me the present, and it's not my birthday for another six months.”

But what about his reasons for staying away from her, his inner, and wholly annoying, voice interrupted. The picket fence? The two-point-two kids?

He slapped the voice away fast. He wasn't thinking about that. He couldn't. Not with Melina in front of him.

“Do you want to—” She raised a hand and pressed it against his shirt. “You know. Undress?”

“Is that what you want?” When she nodded her head, he moved to step back, but then froze. He couldn't let go of her yet. He kneaded her neck, loving the way her eyes glazed over and she bit her lip with strong, white teeth. “Do you want to know what I want?”

She cleared her throat. “Of course. That's why I'm here, remember?”

Right. She was here because, by some miracle, she wanted to know what turned him on. As with magic and most other things, action was his favorite means of communication.

He bent down, and her eyes narrowed in that adorable semi-squint again. When his closed lips touched hers, they fluttered shut completely. Thinking she had the right idea, he closed his eyes and savored that first moment of contact.

It was like diving into heaven. Her lips were soft. Her breath even softer. Gently at first, his tongue sought hers. Rubbed. Parried. Thrust. When her breath hitched, he growled and opened his mouth wider, angling his head for optimum penetration.

Her mouth was so sweet, her taste so intoxicating, that he immediately imagined how sweet she'd taste in other places. Beneath his pants, his cock swelled to such stiff readiness that his ragged groan sounded tortured. Shakily, he pulled away. “I need more of you. Need to feel you against me.”

Her eyes were fixed on his fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt, but when he finished the last button, he reached for her. “Let's get you comfortable first,” he said. To his surprise, she shook her head.

Instead of backing away from him, however, she moved closer, snaked her hands inside his open shirt, and placed her palms against his chest. With a look of wonder, she slid her hands up, then down, then up again. “You're so—” She swallowed audibly. “You're so warm and hard.”

He wasn't just warm. He was hot, and her hands on his bare skin were burning him alive. “Melina,” he groaned. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he dragged her hand down to his throbbing dick. “Here. Just for a minute,” he pleaded. “Please touch me here.”

He let go of her hand, but she didn't move, and he wondered if he'd moved too fast too soon. But then she cupped him through his jeans and rubbed gently. His head fell back, and he gritted his teeth at the pleasure.

“Does that feel good?”

He glanced down, but she wasn't looking at him. At least not at his face. Her gaze was plastered to her hand and what it was doing to him. “It feels like heaven,” he gasped out. “Better than heaven.”

That made her look at him. “What could be better than heaven?” she teased from beneath heavy eyelids.

He couldn't resist touching her any longer. He cupped her breasts, pushing them together and deepening her cleavage before he buried his face in it. Kneading her breasts gently, he dipped his tongue inside her top and into her soft skin. “So sweet.” Slowly, one hand dropped down to the hot spot between her thighs, making her jerk. “So hot. Are you wet, Melina?”

“I-I—”

He raised his head to look at her. “Are you?” he crooned.

She just shook her head.

“No?”

She shook her head again. “I-I—”

“It's okay,” he said. “How about I find out for myself?”

He curled his fingers around and underneath one leg of her underwear. He groaned when her juices immediately covered his fingertips. She whimpered. “Oh, yeah. You're wet. Just like I've always imagined.” He found the hard nub of her clitoris and pressed firmly against it.

“Oh, my God,” she panted. “What are you doing? I'm supposed to be pleasing you.”

He chuckled. “Believe me. Nothing pleases me more than knowing that you're wet and hungry for me. You hungry, Melina?”

Slowly, he pushed one finger inside her. The hand cupping his dick tightened then dropped away completely, moving to grab his wrist. She didn't try to pull his hand away, just held him in a tight grip as if she wasn't sure what she should do.

Good thing he knew exactly what he was going to do.

A second finger joined the first, and he twisted them, curving them to find the spot that made her head drop onto his shoulder and her moans louder. She was trembling hard, but he suddenly realized that he was, too.

Abruptly, his patience left him and his need grabbed him by the throat like a wolf going in for the kill. “You know what else I like, Ladybug? A big, soft bed underneath me when I make love.” When he tried to withdraw his fingers from her, her grip on his wrist suddenly tightened and tried to keep him where he was. He bent down and kissed her, using his teeth this time to add a new dimension to her pleasure. Slipping his wrist from her hold, he swung her up in his arms, carried her to the bed, and gently tossed her down. “Undress. Now.”

He saw her eyes widen at the hoarse command, but he was already frantically ripping off his shirt even as he kicked off his shoes. He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his hips, underwear and all, and left them on the floor with his socks. When he looked up, she hadn't moved. She was staring at his dick, a look of amazement on her face that made him swell even more.

“You're definitely magnum-sized,” she whispered.

He hardly registered the comment. He was a little bigger than average, but she'd have no trouble taking him. Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her toward him and reached for the bottom of her camisole.

“Wait—” she squeaked.

He pulled her top over her head and threw it across the room. Eyes taking in her lacy bra and the plump flesh filling it, he reached for her shorts.

“I want to see you. I want to touch you,” she insisted.

The shorts followed the camisole. Just as she had stared at him, he couldn't take his eyes off of her pussy. Holy crap, he thought.
Who would have thought it?

“You've got a Brazilian,” he choked out as he reached out to caress the tiny strip of chocolate-brown curls.

She cleared her throat. “Actually, the girl who did it told me it's called a Metro Strip. She told me to go for a heart, but that seemed a little too silly given what we're—”

“Did you get this for tonight?”

She hesitated, then nodded her head.

He ran a finger through her pink, sweet flesh, parting her until his mouth watered. Pushing his finger inside her then slowly easing it out, he watched it grow more and more damp as he pumped it gently inside her. Her muscles clenched him, trying to hang on, sucking him so tight that sweat beaded on his forehead.

He dropped to his knees, shouldered his way between her thighs, and prepared to eat his fill of her. Quick as lightning, she reached out to cover herself, something that was hard to do with his finger still inside her, and he growled in frustration.

“This is supposed to be about your pleasure,” she reminded him.

That did it. Extracting his finger, he raised himself up, stared right at her, and licked her juice off his finger. When her eyes widened, he grabbed both her wrists, stretched her arms above her head, and leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You want to please me?” he breathed.

She nodded her head.

“Then this is what you're going to do.” He leaned down and kissed her neck, trailed a string of kisses to her ear, and then nipped at her earlobe before swiping it slowly with his tongue. “You're going to use your hands for one thing and one thing only. You're going to unhook your bra and bare your breasts. Then you're going to cup them. Your fingers are free to do whatever you want there. Tease your nipples. Pinch them tightly or gently. You do whatever turns you on. But you are not going to cover yourself from me. You're going to let me touch you and lick you and do whatever the hell I damn well please to please you, do you understand?”

“Is that…is that what you really want or are you just being nice?”

Laughing, he gentled his hold on her wrists and guided them to her breasts and the front clasp of her bra. “I want that more than anything in the world, Melina. I promise you.”

She stared at him, her hesitation apparent. Then she nodded and twisted the clasp of her bra so that her small breasts spilled free.

***

Had she actually thought her breasts weren't sensitive?

Even with her blurry eyesight, she could see him looking at them. Granted, she couldn't tell whether his gaze was complimentary or not, but with his erection still pressed strong and sure against her belly, she'd place bets on it being complimentary. At least her breasts were convinced of that. They were swollen and achy—the type of achy that was indefinable yet intolerable to ignore.