French Kiss (12 page)

Until, at last, she was firmly impaled, he was buried to the hilt, and they were both gasping for breath.

Sexed up and horn
y, frenzied and overwrought, neither was sure whether to preserve the dizzying pleasure—to sustain the wild, seething sensation as long as possible—or feverishly move on.

Less disciplined, Nicky went off the deep end first.

Even as her orgasm commenced, Johnny debated his options.

She liked multiple orgasms.

He could give her this one and wait for her next one.

If he was made of stone—maybe he could.

Or if this was his usual casual sexual encounter.

Or if he hadn’t felt like coming for the last twenty minutes.

“I’m takin’ your wave, babe,” he whispered.

With superhuman effort, she levered her lashes marginally upward and gave him the sweetest I-can’t-talk-right-now smile.

He was impressed. She’d really struggled to respond.

There was something memorable about the effort she’d taken to please him and gratification as well in the strange
delight—maybe even happiness—he felt in fucking her. He was probably flipping out; maybe having Jordi back brought with it this rare enchantment. Or maybe Nicky Lesdaux
was
different from all the rest.

Whatever. But he came that time like he’d never come before. That much he knew. And as he lay braced on his elbows afterward trying to catch his breath, he was already making plans to fuck her again. And if this meant he was going ape-shit—screw it. He was having a helluva good time.

He held her afterward, after the condom had been disposed of and he’d dug up a couple towels, after he’d gotten himself a cognac to try and dispel his strange mood. After she’d lay inert for so long he was beginning to worry.

He held her close, her head on his chest, the scent of her perfume tickling his nostrils, and they counted the lights on the Eiffel Tower like children might. Like he’d done years ago the first time he’d come here on the school trip funded by cookie sales and car washes.

“This is about as close to heaven as it gets,” she whispered, arching up to kiss his strong jaw.

“Amen to that,” he whispered back. “I think I’ve entered your nirvana.”

“Nice, hey?”

“Yeah, nice.”

And then they lay in companionable silence, both feeling as though they’d crossed some inexplicable line.

He was the first to shake away the outre feeling. He didn’t really believe in nirvana other than as a possible lapse of judgment for carnal reasons. “I was thinking,” he said.

“Let me guess.” Her voice held a smile.

“You get three chances.”

“Do I get a prize if I guess right?”

“Sure do.”

She laughed. “You’re ready for sex. I’m ready for sex. We’re both ready for sex.”

He pulled her up on his chest, brushed the curls away from her face with his palms and found himself momentarily nonplused by a curious sense of longing. Nonsexual.

She looked at him searchingly. “What?”

He gave his head a shake, as though it was possible to dislodge the odd feeling with so small a gesture. “Nothing.”

“I’ll bet you’re tired.” She gently touched his cheek. “You haven’t slept at all.”

“Nah, I’m good.” He smiled. “So tell me what you like best— sex-wise.” Keep it casual. Keep it about fucking. Don’t go off track.

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“You probably wouldn’t like to do it.”

Now he was intrigued. “Sure I would. Give me a hint.”

“Make me do something.”

“Like what?”

“Like I have to do something you tell me.”

“Like S&M?”

“God, no. Like you won’t fuck me unless I kiss you or—”

He grinned. “Kiss me where?”

She sat up, straddling his hips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have even said anything. But you asked and”—
she shrugged—“I don’t know…
you make me feel really sexy, that’s all.”

“More than usual?”

“Yeah, as if your ego needs bolstering. A whole lot sexier if you must know, okay? Now you can add another notch to your belt and forget my name in a couple days. Not that I expect you to remember my name.” She blushed. “Jeez, why don’t I shut up while I’m ahead?”

He was looking up at her, thinking she was about the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time. Starlets and groupies and little rich girls looking for something to break the boredom didn’t hold a candle to this candid, sometimes outspoken, always honest lady from some small
town in Garrison Keillor land. “
Talk all you want. And just for the record, you’re pretty unforgettable. Now, if you want me to make you do something, how about we try something like a man and a maid.”

“Really, you don’t mind? That story makes me
so
hot.”

“You know that, do you?” he said gruffly.

“What? You’re getting huffy about me having sex? This from a man who can’t remember how many women he’s fucked?”

“So sue me. I’m not in the mood to picture you having sex with some guy, okay? It screws up my concentration.”

“Then I’ll have to pretend you’re a virgin, too, or maybe I won’t be able to come again.”

“You’re lookin’ for trouble, babe.”

She grinned. “Promises, promises.”

“I’ll promise you this,” he growled, lifting
her up as though she were weightl
ess, rolling her under him and plunging inside her without waiting for a condom or her okay or directions from her for any game. “
I’
m gonna fuck your brains out. And you’d better be on the pill cause I’m not stopping.”

“Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not.” She held his gaze. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Screw you until I can’t screw anymore.”

“I’
m not sure I like that.”

“Too bad.” He didn’t break his rhythm.

“What if I told you to stop.”

She was beginning to pant, so he figured he was home free on that one. “I wouldn’t,” he said.

“I could make you.”

He laughed.

“Hey!”

“How about you make me stop doing this,” he murmured, easing first one leg, then her other over his shoulders, holding her hips in a harsh grip and pounding into her.

Oh, jeez, oh, God, he wasn’t playing, he really was doing whatever he wanted to do, and she was getting so turned on she was going to come like—RIGHT NOW!!

He half smiled and slowed down enough for her to feel the entire shimmering wave and once her orgasm had died away, he picked up the pace and started all over again.

“No, no, not yet,” she whispered at first, for a brief, fleeting few seconds, but he knew better, and before long, she was panting and gasping and clutching at him as though he was her lifeline in a hurricane. And that time they came together.

He didn’t even wait to wipe up; his cock had a mind of its own. It surged upward again, higher, larger, as though her hot, slick cunt had bewitched it. He really took his time that go-around, all his nerves on high alert, every sensation seemingly magnified, a kind of revelatory intensity of sensation bombarding his brain.

“Can you feel that?” he hissed, sliding in until he hit bottom.

“Oh, God, oh, God
…
”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shut, her words no more than a whisper, so he figured she was feeling it just fine.

Like him.

In fact, his head was going to blow off this time.

Or as near to it as the human body would allow.

It must be the scent of Paris in the air.

Or the lights of the Eiffel Tower out there.

Because this was a kind of raw lust he’d never felt before.

“Don’t st
op,” she breathed. “Please…
”

He couldn’t. She didn’t have to worry.

He couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

T
hat first tear
sliding from under her
cl
osed lids finally made him stop—brought him back to reality. Filled him with guilt. Gathering her in his arms, he sat up, held her close, and apologized over and over again. Until her eyes fluttered open and she whispered, “I wanted you just as badly. You’re just stronger, that’s all. You can last longer.”

“I should call a doctor.” He was stricken with remorse. He’d gone crazy. There was no other word for it.

She smiled faintly. “Give me a minute to rest.”

“No way,” he muttered. “We’re done.” Christ, he might have really hurt her.

“Maybe we can talk about it.” Her smile was pure sunshine. “I have this insatiable craving, you see. I figure you’re too good looking, and that’s why I’m out of control.”

“Whatever,” he said, not willing to agree. Although his own feelings were as inexplicable. He thought maybe having Jordi back was the reason, or being dead tired. Maybe they were both just in
some peculiar, quirky, tie-me-up, tie-me-down place, and in the cold light of day, they’d be back to normal. “We’ll talk about it later,” he added, needing time to deal with the shit going on in his head.

“When later?”

Her voice was a seductive whisper, her green-eyed gaze provocative as hell. “Not for a while,” he said. The last thing he needed were headlines about some lady ending up in the hospital because of him.

“Five minutes?” she pleaded.

He blew out a breath, inhaled deeply, and tried to think rationally. “We’ll talk about it in half an hour.”

“Okay,” she said.

A smile slowly formed on her damned kissable mouth, and he was suddenly shaken to the core. He wasn’t going to be able to say no. Whether in five minutes or half an hour or tomorrow, he fucking wanted her.

“
I
gotta go. Sometimes J
ordi
wakes up early."

The soft sound was
warm against her car, the voice de
liciously familiar, the words a first
for her in
terms
of
male excuses. They tended to be more like,
I have to go to work,
or school,
or
once, walk
my
dog.
Not that she’d had tons of morning-
after excuses, but she’d had her
moments. She’d even heard the
one about having to catch an early flight,
although that had been
understandable. She’d met the
guy on a layover in Miami. But
having
to
get up
for a
child?
Johnny had the perfect alibi for a
quick retreat.

“Ummmm,” she mumbled, not up to
any
conversation that would be patently false. Anyway, she was still half-asleep after a very,
very
lovely night of flame-hot sex.
And
seriously, still all aglow from Johnny’s exceedingly pleasurable attentions. There
was no way was she going to say anything to put him on the spot.

“I’ll mee
t
you back here at noon for lunch.”

Dropping a light kiss on her cheek, he walked away.

Yeesss! So it wasn’t just a wham, bam night of steamy sex. Lifting her lashes marginally, she watched him leave with the kind of adoring gaze predicated by a night of unbelievably fabulous orgasms. He’d dressed so quie
tl
y she’d not even heard him. But then he’d probably had plenty of practice at quick getaways. Not that she was going to complain when she’d benefitted so exquisitely from his expertise. The man was good at what he did— there was no doubt about it. And she wasn’t talking about his music.

And now she’d see him at lunch!

She fell back to sleep with a smile on her face.

H
ours later, she
came awake with a start. Quickly glancing at the bedside clock, her eyes flared wide. OHMYGOD!!! IT WAS ELEVEN-THIRTY!!

Which meant she had only a half hour to shower, dress, and make herself presentable for lunch. The time wouldn’t normally be an issue, were she in other than her current milieu—i.e., in the presence of a man who consorted with the great beauties of the world. A bit more makeup and attention to detail than usual was
definitely
called for. Or if the world had been a more perfect place, her own hairdresser and design consultant on call. Or even better—enough time to go out and buy something
decent
to wear.

Damn. If only she’d brought a better wardrobe.

If only she actually
possessed
a better wardrobe.

Unfortunately, her closet was a disaster zone of leftover-from
-colle
ge grunge, the requisite black suit, and mostly Gap— because the store was conveniently close to her house.

Aaaagh…

W
hen the knock
on the door sounded precisely at noon, Nicky shouted, “Just a minute,” sprayed another spritz of perfume around her neck and shoulders and shook her damp curls into place. Wrinkling her nose at her Gap-clad reflection in the mirror, she grabbed her jacket (Okay, that was nice because she had a very talented friend who designed in leather) and purse (ditto there). But she was pretty near to marching into Chanel first chance she had and recklessly spending a month’s salary on a decent outfit.

When she opened the door, Johnny surveyed her with a quick head-to-toe look. “You look nice and clean,” he said in a low, sexy, highly insinuating drawl that went a long way toward saving her a bundle at Chanel. “How were the museums?” he added with a much-too-knowing grin.

She grinned back. “Very educational.”

“Liar.”

“So, I was tired. You, apparently, never sleep.”

He winked. “I had better things to do last night.”

“Did you actually go to the toy stores this morning?”

“Yep.”

Of course he wouldn’t disappoint his daughter. What was she thinking? “Did you buy them out?”

“Yep. Including something for you.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding.”

“What did you get?” She couldn’t help herself. She loved presents, and one from a toy store couldn’t be expensive like the Chanel or Hermes he’d tried to give her. She could enjoy this one.

“You have to wait.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“That’s no reason.”

“Because I’ll show it to you tonight, then.”

He’d said
tonight
, as in he was having sex with her tonight. Her vagina quivered in anticipation. She could feel the melting sensation send little waves of warm pleasure throughout her body. Taking issue, however, with his way too arrogant presumption that there was no need to ask her if she wanted sex with him tonight, she took a stand for female independence. “What if I were to say no?”

A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. “Then I’d try to change your mind,” he smoothly replied, his gaze once again neutral.

“What if you couldn’t?”

“Then I’d try harder.” He didn’t say this was a pointless conversation because he had no intention of irritating her. He leaned in closer. “I’d try really, really
hard
,
”
he whispered.

Oh, God, oh, God
…
she remembered how hard he’d been, how resilient and indefatigable. How lusciously
large.
“Okay, so maybe tonight’s good,” she said, in a suffocated tone. “Damn you.”

“I feel the same way, so we’re even.” He knew what she was damning as well as he knew that he shouldn’t get involved with her in any way, shape, or form. She was building a tree house for Jordi. The construction would take weeks. He wasn’t good with long-term relationships or
any
relationships, for that matter. He could be getting himself into one helluva mess.

“So we’re making trouble for each other.”

He blew out a breath. “Probably.” His mouth quirked in a rueful smile. “But screw it.”

She half-smiled. “Is that an invitation or a casual statement.”

He laughed. “If we had time”—he glanced up and down the hallway—“it would
definitely be an invitation.”

“I’d be happy to take a rain check.”

“Ask me why I’m not surprised.”

“Now why would I do that?”

Her voice had taken on a tiny edge. Oops. Dipping his head, he brushed her lips in a conciliatory kiss and eased
her
back a step so they were both inside he
r room. “You’ve been on my mind—
like constantly.” He shut the door. “So, if you
want a
rain check right now, I’ll change our reservation. How’s
that?”
He ran his finger lightly over the severe line of her brow.

“No, no, don’t…
really, I shouldn’t be so—”

“Hot for sex?”

She gave him a look.

He laughed. “We’re both hot for the same thing—okay? Although, just for the record, Vernie scares the shit out of me, and she and Jordi are waiting downstairs.” His grin was boyish and sweet. He kissed her again, a butterfly kiss. “Why don’t I make good on this later?” he whispered, lifting his mouth from hers. “I promise you’ll like it.”

Who was she kidding? Sex with him
was awesome.
No way was she gonna be difficult about when
and where.
“I
am
hungry,” she said, planning on collecting her reward
for
Miss Congeniality later tonight.

H
e crooked his arm and grinned. “
Then we’d better see that you’re fed.”

Carnal images from last night having to do with eating you-know-what suddenly surfaced, and her temperature racheted up big-time. Followed by a jolt of lust that rippled up her vagina, leaving her breathless. For an unnerving second, she debated the embarrassing ramifications that might ensue should she actually touch his outstretched arm. Not that she had a choice; he was expectantly
waiting.

So with due warning to all her senses and sensibilities to
behave,
she gingerly placed her palm on his arm—and found that instead of behaving, SEX, NOW, NOW, NOW, was being instan
tl
y communicated to every susceptible nerve in her body. She should have known better. The impact of his physical beauty and animal magnetism up close and personal was irresistible.

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep from pleading,
“
Please, please, can we have a quickie
?”

“Fucking A you turn me on,” he murmured, as though reading her mind, or perhaps under the spell of the same prurient fairy dust. Dragging her into his body, he slid his hands down her back and held her hard against his rising erection
. “I’ve been missing you someth
ing
fierce.”

“I’m feeling out of control—insatiable,” she whispered, twining her arms around his waist.

“Christ, I could fuck you right here and now.” He grimaced, his nostrils flaring wide. “You’re screwing with my head, babe.”

“I don’t like this mindless obsession any better than you,” she muttered. “Maybe we’re bad for each other,” she suggested with that minor portion of her brain not entirely overwhelmed by lust.

“Uh-uh. No way.” He might question his abnormal cravings for this woman, but not the inevitability of his fucking her again.
That
he was going to do. “It’s just going to be a
long
day for both of us,” he said with a sigh. Letting his hands drop, he took a step backward. “So I’d better keep my distance. Restraint’s never been my strong suit.”

To which all the tabloids would agree with full-color photos to prove it. In an effort to keep her face off the cover of
The Star
and save her family from embarrassment, Nicky said, “Maybe I shouldn’t go for lunch.”

“Hey. You’re coming for lunch,” he growled, all strong, virile male.

“Hey,” she shot back, a tremor in her voice. “Tone down the macho shit. You’re turning me on. Okay?”

He spun away, needing to get a grip on his raging lust. Slamming his palms against the wall, he hung there, head down, breathing hard.

Nicky shuddered, so incredibly aroused she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t come standing right there.

The air reeked with sexual need.

Like, the more you get, the more you want.

An almost uncontrollable cra
ving hung in the balance. Abruptl
y pushing away from the wall, constraint evident in every muscle in his body, Johnny said, “I’m good now
. Under control”—he smiled tightl
y—“more or less. But don’t touch me, don’t look at me, don’t even pass me the bread at lunch, or I might carry you off to the nearest dark hallway and fuck yo
u senseless.”

Nicky smiled faintl
y. “I’m so horny, I’m not sure I’d take issue. Look”—she held out her hand—“I’m shaking. Did you slip me some ecstasy when I wasn’t looking?”

“I wish—because this drug-free, permanent hard-on I have for you is
freaking
me out.”

She shouldn’t have felt so gratified. She should have taken his comment at simple face value—as in he was unhappy with the intensity of his lust. But there it was—the difference between men and woman. She
adored
being wanted
that
badly while he was jumpy as hell over wanting her too much.

Mars and Venus.

Immutably at odds.