Into the Fire (11 page)

He put his arm around Lila and bent his head to press his lips against her hair. How could she have thought for even a minute that he didn’t want to be seen with someone as gorgeous as her? Her natural beauty, combined with her sensual response to the food tonight, made him crazy. And that was before she opened her mouth. Her food knowledge was encyclopedic, and it gave him a hard-on every time she got that zealous light in her eye. There had been a couple of moments at Standing Room where he had thought she might barge into the kitchen and commandeer a stove to try one of her new ideas for the Inferno menu. He would have paid to see the look on Zane’s face while he watched Lila cook. Watching her cook was even more arousing than listening to her talk about food, and she belonged to him.

Tonight.

The thought drew him up short.

He looked down at her. Sensing his gaze, she turned her head. A slow smile tilted her lips. She looked pleased about something. “What are you thinking about?” He wondered whether it was related to the Inferno menu or if, like him, she was anticipating spending a few hours thinking about something other than work.

Her eyes gleamed. “I’m thinking it’s after dinner, and you’re all mine now, Jackson. We made a deal, remember? That’s not all I’m thinking, though.” The car pulled up in front of his building, but he didn’t take his eyes off Lila. She reached past him to open the door. Her breast pressed into his arm, sending an arrow straight to his groin. “I’m also thinking that payback’s a bitch, and you’ve been awfully bossy tonight. Shall we?”

He couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.

Chapter Twelve

Jack led her straight up the stairs and into his apartment. It was huge and posh, but she didn’t have time to process any of that because he dragged her up the stairs and into his bedroom. He flipped on the light and yanked the comforter to the bottom of his king-sized bed.

Sudden fear sucked at her. What was she going to do with him?

He must have seen the doubt in her eyes because he chuckled. “Don’t chicken out now, Delilah. I’m intrigued.”

She pushed her fears back below the surface. She had Jackson Calabrese at her mercy. She wasn’t going to waste it. She tugged his t-shirt up over his head, exposing his torso. It made sense to start at the top, right? His chest was rock-hard and warm under her palms. His arms were sculpted with smooth valleys for her to trail her fingers through. His abdomen was ridged with muscle and she wondered how many crunches it took to get abs like his. She didn’t want to know.

She reached up to kiss him, and it was heaven to feel his arms steady her. She felt herself melting, trying to get closer. His mouth opened hers, and his tongue stroked the sensitive underside of her upper lip. He tasted sweet and smelled faintly of chocolate.

He whipped her shirt over her head, breaking their connection.

“Hey! I’m in charge.”

“Sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look sorry.” But he would, she promised herself. “Take your pants off.”

He didn’t move.

She snapped her fingers in mock impatience. “Not so easy when the shoe is on the other foot, is it? C’mon, strip.”

A wide grin split his face as he toed off his shoes and socks. “Oh, you are so wrong about that. I just couldn’t believe my luck there for a minute.” His hands made quick work of his buckle, button, and zipper. He shucked his jeans and underwear to the floor. “I thought I was going to have to beg to get you back into bed.”

He’d planned on begging? “Don’t rule that out just yet.” She moved forward and gave him a gentle shove onto the bed.

She started to follow him down, but she felt silly in her jeans. Slowly, she got rid of them, feeling his intense gaze on every bit of skin she uncovered. The amount of food she had consumed weighed heavily on her mind.

“Close your eyes, Jack,” she whispered.

His brows drew together, but he obeyed. He looked glorious stretched out on his zillion thread-count sheets waiting for her. She sat beside him, stroking her hands over his body. He lay quiet, obviously enjoying the attention. She leaned to nibble the path her palms had taken. Every so often she would linger on a particularly succulent spot, and his breathing would hitch and become harsh. At the moment, she hovered near his belly button.

Her hand drifted lower, stroking the springy hair on his thigh then the tender inside of his leg. When her hand closed over him, his eyes shot open.

“No peeking,” she admonished.

“Guys like to watch,” he growled.

“Oh,” she frowned, letting him go. “That’s a shame.”

His eyes slammed shut.

“That’s more like it.” She put her hand on him again. His hips bucked. She bent her head to taste him. Salt coated her tongue as she slid deeper. His thighs were tense. His hands were fists. Every part of his body was responsive to her, and it gave her a heady sense of power. She wanted more. Arousal pooled low in her belly, and she drew him deeper.

Jack flung an arm over his eyes, probably to keep them shut. Maybe she would let him watch…in a minute.

She scraped her fingernails down his thighs, making him groan. She experimented with her tongue, watching him as she stroked one way then the other. She rose to focus on his tip then sank to see how far she could go. He groaned and grabbed her arms. “If you do that…” he warned.

She slowed but didn’t stop.

His mouth fell open, and his shallow pants increased her desire to see him lose control. She hoped for luck and opened the drawer of his bedside table. An open box of condoms lay on top. She grabbed one. At the sound of foil tearing, he jerked beneath her. She smoothed the condom down his length and slid out of her panties. Then she moved on top of him.

As he filled her, uncertainty punched through her center, stealing her breath. He reached for her, and she grabbed his hands, holding them. She had burned for him in her dreams so many times. She had thought being the one on top would make her the one in control, but she had never felt more vulnerable in her life. She couldn’t hide her emotions. She was taking him, but she felt taken as well, exposed by her desire.

“You can open your eyes now,” she said, hearing the plea in her own voice.

His eyes flew open and his gaze met hers, filling her with confidence again. She bent to kiss him, and the connection grew stronger. His features were drawn, making his cheekbones stand out starkly in his shadowed face. His eyes were luminous and tender.

Did he know? Would he guess she was living out her fantasy? There was no stopping now, even if he did. She rocked over him, her entire being focused on the connection between them, becoming stronger by the second, driving them harder together. He thrust up to meet her. She looked into his eyes and caught fire.

Ecstasy rushed through her, and she ground against him. She heard herself scream. Intense spasms shook her legs, and she collapsed on his chest, unable to do anything but survive the blaze. He rolled her beneath him, and she clung to him, wrapping her knees around his hips, her arms around his neck, her mouth open against his neck, taking him in as he continued to move inside of her, stroking fire through her body.

He moved fast and hard, and her body began to tighten again.

His gaze pierced her for one endless second before every muscle in his body tensed and he surrendered. His climax sparked another fire within her, as if he had lit a fuse. She hung on as the spasms, harder this time, wracked her again.

He groaned, clasping her tightly and slowly falling to the side. Under the weight of his arm, she floated and tried to piece her world back together again. What in holy hell had just happened between them? She caught her breath. The moment when Jack looked into her eyes had shaken her down to her foundation. There had been nothing adversarial about it. They had been two people coming together seeking connection. Lying here with him, she felt like they had found it.

She closed her eyes as he rolled off the bed and padded toward the bathroom, sudden knowledge settling over her like black water. She was in over her head. She wasn’t wired for one night of no-strings sex. This overwhelming urge to give Jack everything and more wasn’t going to end tomorrow. She’d fallen in love with him. Hell, she had probably fallen in love with him six months ago.

Jack was a force of nature. His effect on her defied explanation. She had gone to work at Inferno believing him to be an arrogant ass, but all of the people in his circle who loved him, all of the amazing things he had accomplished at Inferno, and the way he took control of the company in his father’s absence had changed her perception of him. She couldn’t spend one night making love with him and go back to hating him.

Jack had swept her off her feet.

Now she understood her recurring dream wasn’t entirely about sex. It was also about sharing emotions, feeling needed and desired, and having her needs and desires met by Jack. She didn’t want to make him miserable anymore. She wanted to break through to the man she remembered, the passionate man who had shared his ideas and dreams with her, the man who had made love to her and changed something inside her, the man she had believed him to be before the competition. Their time together had erased her resentment of him, leaving in its place the desire to understand him.

Her feelings about Jack reminded her of the time she had waded into the ocean to the edge of the sand and stood firm. Every wave that hit her shins had washed a little sand from beneath her feet until she lost her balance. She felt as if every minute spent with Jack washed away a little more of her resolve. She needed to make a decision. Step forward or race back to firm ground?

She watched him walk back to the bed.

He climbed in bed and covered both of them as he pulled her into his embrace. His skin was warm and soft. She felt every breath coming in and out of his lungs. His heart thumped beneath her hand, and she felt its echo in her body. Pure comfort overwhelmed her. It wasn’t tomorrow, and she didn’t have to make a decision yet. She relaxed against him and slid into deep sleep.

…

Bit by bit, Lila became aware of something warm pressed up against her back, a hard arm around her stomach, a hand on her breast. She relaxed, enjoying the familiar dream. Her body had already kindled, and the heat built slowly, following a path from breast to belly, lower. She shifted, leaning back, and met resistance.

A low voice rumbled in her ear, “Ready for breakfast?”

She jumped, but she couldn’t scramble away from the arm wrapped around her hips, the hand that was still stoking her fire. “I thought I was dreaming,” she gasped.

“Is this a dream you have often? I like that.” His hand was busy between her thighs. She couldn’t answer him. At some point, she must have been dreaming. How else could she have reached the point of no return so quickly?

She felt his lips on the back of her neck and arched to give him better access. His fingers moved swiftly to take advantage. “Yes,” he whispered as she opened to him.

He thrust one arm beneath her. The twin assault of one hand on her breasts and the other sliding between her thighs was impossible to resist. He had no mercy and no intention of allowing her to escape. His arms tightened around her, and she held tight, letting him take her.

His fingers plunged and dipped into her then settled with relentless attention on her clit. Brilliant colors burst beneath her eyelids at the almost painful pleasure he drew from her. He pinched and she screamed, seeing only bright, white light as she climaxed, held nearly immobile in his strong grip. Just as quickly, the tension in her body ebbed, leaving her soft and yielding. He eased her forward and reached over her head. She heard a drawer open, and anticipation built within her again. She began to turn toward him, but he grasped her wrists and pulled them over her head. She felt mindless as he eased her legs apart and lowered his weight onto her back. “Is this okay?” His rough whisper made her shiver.

“Yes.” She clenched as he sought entrance, arching her back to take him in.

He was in no hurry this time. He moved his hands from her wrists to the bed on either side of her head. She lay beneath him, quiescent, as he slowly thrust in and out of her body. A strange pressure began to build as he stroked inside her. The sheet rubbed her hard nipples, arousing her further. She was lying at the edge of the ocean again, and the waves were reaching for her. She grew unbearably sensitive. Jack thrust harder, and she whimpered, wanting the waves to hit higher. She screamed when they did. Ecstasy crashed over her, dragging her in every direction, nearly splitting her apart.

She knew Jack was with her. She felt him in every part of her and heard him gasping her name as he curled over her. Slowly, the waves receded, leaving peace in their wake.

Jack rolled them sideways. She felt him reach between them for the condom, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he leaned to whisper, “Coffee.”

She smiled without opening her eyes. “You’re trying to turn me on again, aren’t you?”

He slid out of bed. “Worth a shot.”

A few minutes later, he came out of the bathroom. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll make you breakfast. If we stay up here, we’ll never make it out of bed, and you must be hungry.”

As if on cue, her stomach gurgled, and he laughed, pressing a kiss just above her belly button. “Can’t have you going hungry.” He padded toward the door, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms from the chair on his way out.

She stared after him for several long moments, trying to recover her equilibrium.

Finally, she sat up in bed and glanced around the room with curiosity. The walls were a rich purplish-gray, and the wall-to-wall carpet was a lighter shade of gray. The furniture was dark and spare, dominated by the leather headboard and an enormous television on the wall. She slid out of bed, and her feet sank an inch into the plush carpet.

Her apartment would fit into his bedroom. Likewise, she assumed his fridge would be stocked with breakfast options instead of holding the bare minimum to keep her alive when she wasn’t working. She walked into the bathroom and eyed the Jacuzzi tub and the luxurious glassed-in shower tucked into the corner, more evidence that her world was not his world.

She would love to lounge in that tub, but she didn’t want to keep him waiting. He didn’t seem in any hurry to kick her out, but she’d take a quick rinse and get dressed anyway. She turned on the taps then doubled back into the bedroom to find a hair band in her purse. As she searched, her phone began to ring. She glanced at the display. Was it eleven, already? Slowly, she hit reject, then sent a quick text to Betsy and Jenna, telling them she was too busy working to talk today.

Guilt rushed through her. She knew exactly what they would say about her feelings for Jack. They were right, but she wasn’t quite ready to hear it yet. She piled her hair on top of her head, found a clean towel in the closet, and stepped into the steam. The hot water felt amazing, but she forced herself to keep her shower brief, only taking the time to snoop through his toiletries and find the source of his scent—a pricey-looking shaving gel, the scent that haunted her dreams.

Quickly, she toweled off and dressed, admiring the décor of his enormous apartment on the way down the stairs.

He stilled when she entered his gleaming kitchen. “Going somewhere?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered, watching him.

“All the restaurants are closed today. I don’t have plans.”

Was that an invitation? Her heart skipped a beat. “Jack, we said one night…”

“We already blew that to hell this morning.” A wicked grin curved his mouth, and heat shot through her. He set a cup of coffee in front of her and added a dollop of cream, just how she liked it. She bit her lip and looked away, so tempted. How much could she give before she lost too much? He tipped her chin and bent to press a whisper-soft kiss on her lips. “I make a mean frittata.”