Just A Little Taste (2 page)

“So, Mr. Hughes.... Would you like a tour?”
The way she spoke sounded as if she was asking if he'd like a tour
of a much more personal sort. Heaven help him, he couldn't deny
that he very much wanted an intimate tour. Of her. And with Claire
otherwise engaged....

This would be the perfect opportunity to
snoop around the house. And now that he knew who she was, and who
she was related to, he could get the grand tour without drawing
attention to himself.

“Absolutely.”

Elise led him through the throng of people,
past the quartet, and into a long central hallway. She spoke
softly, telling him about this and that. He found himself watching
her speak instead of paying attention to the layout of the
house.

“What do you do, Mr. Hughes?” Damn, her
accent was sexy. English with a touch of French. She must have
spent a great deal of time in England.

“I was an architect,” he lied.

“Was?”

“Before my wife died. Afterward I left the
firm. Right now I'm trying to find inspiration to go back.” It
almost sickened him how easily the lies rolled from his tongue. How
easily he stuck with the story he'd created.

But Zeus's email flashed through his mind. It
was a bet to see who was the best. Seven thieves. Seven days. Seven
priceless prizes.

His prize was a bottle of 1787 Lafitte
G.W.

The
bottle.

There was only one left in the world. It was
somewhere in this house, and it was his job to steal it.

“I'm so sorry,” she said in that soft,
feminine voice. She put her hand on his arm and stared up into his
eyes. He knew she meant to comfort him, but this close, when he
could make out the aqua flecks of her eyes and inhale her delicate
perfume, it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself.

“Don't be. It was years ago. I've moved on. I
find the architecture in Europe rekindles my spirit.” He gave her
his most charming smile. She seemed relieved by his words.

“Would you like another drink? The Marguex is
excellent.” She glanced at the empty champagne flute in his
hand.

“Sure.” Lucky for him, it took a lot more
than a few glasses of bubbly to get him drunk. “I bet it takes a
massive kitchen to feed a crowd like this,” he murmured as a waiter
passed by with an hors d' oeuvres tray. He scooped one up and
popped it into his mouth. The salmon mousse melted on his
tongue.

She smiled. “And a massive wine cellar.”

“Was it original? To the house I mean.” He
tried not to smile, tried to remain aloof as if his only interest
was the house.

“I'm not sure. It's right through here, if
you'd like to see it.” The look she was giving him told him she
didn't care if they 'saw' the cellar or not. His blood came to a
slow boil, and he suddenly felt the need to undo the top button of
his shirt.

“Lead the way.”

He deposited his empty glass on a nearby
table, excitement surging through him as she linked her fingers
with his and pulled him through a sitting room and down another
hall. She paused in front of a large, ornately carved door and
twisted the ancient knob. A burst of dank, slightly musty air hit
him in the face.

She reached out and a light flickered on,
showcasing a stone staircase.

“Shall I go first?” he offered.

“You can catch me if I fall.”

“Gladly.” He started down the steps. Her high
heels clanked against the stone as she descended behind him.

He was so close to the prize he could feel
it. This was the perfect spot to store the Lafite bottle. His
nerves were on red alert.

“Are you a big wine drinker?” she asked as
they came to the bottom of the stairs. A cool, cavernous room
awaited them. Everywhere he looked, there were rows and rows of
dark bottles lying like little torpedoes waiting to be uncorked and
enjoyed.

“Evidentially not as big as your father.”

She trailed her hand over the smooth glass of
a nearby bottle as if she were caressing her lover's body. He
instantly wanted to be that man.

“Hardly anyone is.” She studied one row and
then another before selecting a bottle. “This is Daddy's first
love. Some would say his only love. He always has to have one more
for his precious collection.” She stepped over to the wall-mounted
corkscrew and expertly removed the cork. She reached for two
crystal goblets and poured a perfect four ounces in each before
turning toward him.

“This is a great vintage.” She rattled off
details about hints of this, notes of that, but he wasn't paying
attention. His focus was zeroed in on her lips. So perfectly
shaped. Glossy, pink, and begging to be kissed.

“You know your wine,” he said when those lips
stopped moving.

“I grew up around it,” she said and handed
him a glass. Then she took a sip. He did the same, watching her
over the rim. She stared back at him, seemingly uninterested in
small talk.

Some women he knew would be uncomfortable
with the silence. Uncomfortable locking gazes. But she simply
stared him down, sipping her wine. But he could tell that her mind
was churning.

He broke from the staring contest first and
stepped to the nearest row of shelves, reading the labels. He moved
along as if he were in a library, reading the spines of the
books.

“How many bottles do you suppose are down
here?” he asked.

“I don't know. Five thousand? Maybe
more.”

“That's incredible. I've never seen a
collection like this. It makes my little wine cooler back home look
pathetic.”

She laughed that lyrical laugh of hers and
told him to finish his wine.

“I'm starting to think you're trying to get
me drunk,” he teased.

“Do I need to?”

His cock sprang to life, and he forgot all
about the bottle of 1787 Lafite he was looking for. He set his
glass down on a nearby wine barrel and did the same with hers.

“Does this answer your question?” he asked,
cupping her cheeks in his hands. Staring deep into her eyes, he
dipped his head toward hers. Their lips brushed against each other
in a whisper of a kiss.

The spark of electricity between them
surprised him. But her sweetness stalled his thinking. He could
only feel.

Brax moved his mouth over hers, memorizing
every soft detail. Every delicate sound coming from her throat,
every breath.

Her arms wound tightly around his neck,
pulling him closer. He had no objections.

Closing his eyes, he deepened the kiss,
reveling in her warmth. They shared a breath, and he let his tongue
slide along the seam of her lips. His hands roamed down over the
curve of her waist to the flare of her hips before sliding up her
bare back to cup her shoulders. She opened for him; in the next
moment she pressed herself against him, her breasts crushing
against his chest.

He groaned and tightened his hold. Their
tongues collided and tangled, and her fingers threaded through his
hair. She tasted like the wine, only sweeter. Warmer. Wetter.

Reveling in her kiss, her touch, he ran one
hand down her spine and felt her shiver against him. He cupped her
ass with his palm and pulled her hard against him. His body soaked
up the soft feel of her. The way her hips shifted against his
erection made him think of an erotic dance. It made him wish they
were both naked with an exotic song playing in the background.
Something seductive and heady...like Elise.

A bolt of white-hot electricity jolted
through him when she sucked on his tongue. He groaned into her
mouth and shoved his hips against hers.

She pulled back, gasping for air. Brax
searched her gaze and found a look of blazing desire that matched
what he felt. It served to heat his blood more.

She leaned in close and rubbed her cheek
against his. The tips of her fingers gently scraped along his
scalp, giving him chills.

“I have a secret,” she whispered.

“I promise to keep it.”

She laughed, and he loved the sound of it. So
light and happy. So genuine.

“I'm not wearing any panties.” Her voice was
husky, seductive, and he felt the impact of her words deep in his
gut. His cock was fighting to get out, to dive into her.

She pulled back and met his eyes. The corner
of her delicious mouth was turned up in a way that made him think
of his cock sliding in and out of those lips. He grinned down at
her. Naughty girl.

“And I bet no bra either,” he murmured,
staring pointedly at the ample cleavage on display.

“Wouldn't you like to find out.” Such a saucy
reply from such a seemingly demure woman. Damn, he was going to
come if he wasn't careful.

“I certainly would.” He wrapped his hands
around the back of her shoulders and held her still as his tongue
trailed down from her collarbone to the valley between her
breasts.

Elise let her head fall back as his lips
trailed over her skin, feathering kisses. Heat spread over her
slowly, as if every inch was catching fire. He kneaded her
shoulders with his fingers and nipped at the side of her breast. A
sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh escaped her lips, and
she clutched his head with her hands.

Slowly he made his way back up to her lips,
kissing each corner before plundering her like a treasure chest.
His hands flattened down her back, his heat branding her. A moan
built in her throat, and she pushed closer. Desire slickened her
pussy, and she opened her legs so she could rub against him. A
noise overhead made her realize how crazy this was. Fucking a
perfect stranger in her father's wine cellar. Anyone could walk in
on them. The thought brought a rush she hadn't expected.

But it wasn't just the idea of being
caught.

Braxton was so perfect.

So cocky and assured. He definitely knew his
way around a woman's body. As if he'd read her mind and wanted to
prove her right, his warm hands slid inside the back of her low cut
dress and cupped her ass. His strong fingers massaged the flesh.
More cream gushed from her core, and she ground her hips against
the steely length of his cock.

Wordlessly he picked her up and turned toward
the large oak table in the center of the room. Her backside hit the
cold surface, but it did little to cool the heat he'd ignited
inside her.

With a brush of his talented fingers, the
straps of her dress slid down her arms.

His hands closed over her breasts, the thin
fabric doing little to camouflage her excitement. She knew by the
look in his eyes that her hardened nipples pleased him. Slowly he
rubbed his palms over the eager peaks in a circular motion that did
funny things to her insides. His eyes grew shuttered, and he tugged
the fabric down.

“Exquisite.” The slow, sure smile he gave her
made her stomach flutter. She laid back and let him look his fill.
Something about being on display for this man was incredibly
exciting. Perhaps it was the anticipation of what he would say or
do next. But it was also the thorough way he studied her, as if she
was a priceless piece of art in a museum.

He bent his dark head and flicked her aching
nipple with the tip of his tongue. It was an image she'd never
forget. His large hands cupped the weight of her breasts, holding
them up so he could alternate between them. She arched against him
as his lips closed over her nipples, sucking them into the moist
heat of his mouth. The flames inside grew hotter with each tender
tug of his teeth.

She felt his hands skim down her legs,
gathering the fabric. Suddenly a breeze hit her mound, and a shiver
raced over her thighs.

As he knelt between her legs and blew cool
air over her pussy, Elise thought there was a good possibility she
might pass out. She'd known the moment she'd laid eyes on him that
he was the one who could tempt, torture, and delight her. There was
something about his tall, dark, and handsome good looks. Something
mysterious in his green eyes.

He was definitely living up to that silent
promise his eyes had made to drive her wild.

A thick finger probed her slick folds.

“Wet for me, baby?”

“Soaked, monsieur.” Warm hands spread her
thighs, and she felt the flick of his tongue on her clit.
Electricity seemed to sizzle through her veins. She dropped back
against the table and cupped her breasts in her hands, all her
focus on the cluster of nerves being driven wild between her
legs.

Slowly he licked one lip from top to bottom
and then the other. Then he pulled her slick folds apart and
speared her with the tip of his tongue.

“More,” she whimpered, wanting to move
closer, to have that tongue all the way inside her.

“Less?” he teased and pulled back. She lifted
her head so she could stare down at him. He had a mischievous glint
in his gorgeous green eyes, and she felt another jolt of desire
deep inside.

“More,” she told him again. A smile spread
across his handsome face, and his dark head bent between her thighs
once again. One long, thick finger slid deep into her core,
twisting and turning, driving her crazy with the slow friction.

He pushed her thighs father apart until she
thought she might split in half. His mouth was hot on her pussy,
devouring her. Long, slow licks followed by quick, little flicks
had her pushing herself into his mouth. A low laugh rumbled out of
him, and she was surprised when the vibration turned her on even
more.

She pinched her nipples and pulled them up
until a pang of pleasure/pain coursed through her. Slowly she
twisted and massaged them before pulling on them again.

He turned his finger inside her sheath and
curled it slightly. She forgot all about her aching breasts. The
pressure inside was odd and exciting at the same time. He sucked on
her clit and wiggled his finger again.

An orgasm snuck up on her and swallowed her
like a tidal wave. Powerful and stunning, she lost her breath as it
claimed her, body and soul. She bit her bottom lip to keep from
crying out, but she couldn't stop the moan that climbed up her
throat. Over and over he suckled on the tender nub, drawing out her
pleasure.