Once A Bad Girl (5 page)

Lottie jerked her chin up. ‘No! No, it isn’t.’

‘Ask me to call.’

There was only one answer she could give, though it broke something inside her to do it. ‘No. You’ll do it in your own time. You said you would, and I believe you.’

‘Such a good girl, aren’t you?’ He slipped a hand into his back pocket, pulled out a glossy black phone and held it to his ear. His gaze never left hers as he spoke, his answers brief and to the point. Was that Marlene Blakemore on the other end? Was that buzz her famously husky voice? Lottie felt a little fangirl buzz herself. Pulling the thick white mug towards her, she inhaled some of the steam, then took a delicate sip.

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ she said as soon as he ended the call, wishing the horrible mix of guilt and embarrassment would take a hike. ‘Now I feel like I owe you.’

‘You do.’ Both palms met the table top and he leaned towards her, biceps curving tight against shirt sleeves. She wondered how that curve would feel under her hand. ‘You see, the male ego is a delicate beast. Easily wounded. Not sure it’s going to recover, to be honest.’

‘I’ll kiss it better,’ Lottie said without thinking. Her heart tripped as his sensual mouth curved into a wicked grin. Only a man who was very, very confident about his ability as a lover could pull off a smile like that.

‘It’s a big ego.’

Lottie gripped the edge of the table tight and swallowed hard. They both knew they weren’t talking about his ego. ‘How big?’

‘Huge. I’m not sure kissing will be enough to fix it.’

‘Then what do you suggest?’

‘I want you,’ he said simply. ‘Under me. Coming harder than you’ve ever come before. That should do it.’

And suddenly she knew. If she didn’t give in to this fire burning between them, if she didn’t explore him the way she wanted to, if she didn’t let herself find out what it was like to have this man make love to her, she would regret it. Always. But there were things he needed to know, first.

‘I haven’t had sex in eight months,’ she said quietly, glancing down, not wanting to see his reaction, wishing she could treat it like a game, wishing just for once that she didn’t have to take everything so seriously.

‘I see,’ he said, and there was a wicked edge to his voice. ‘Are you worried your virginity might have grown back?’

‘Do not even think about mentioning cherries,’ she shot back. ‘Or popping.’

‘I won’t,’ he said easily, ‘if you shut up and kiss me.’

Lottie got carefully to her feet. He was leaning against the worktop, arms folded, watching her from under heavy lids, the intense message his body was sending out clashing totally with his joking words.

She moved closer, tried to remember how to breathe. He was strong and warm and didn’t budge an inch as she clumsily pressed her lips against his. There was no other contact, just that touch of his mouth against hers. It was chaste and nothing, and the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced all rolled into one, and it knocked her sideways.

‘Hell,’ he said, as his hands came up to take her hips and hold her steady. ‘Let me in.’

The sensation threatened to overwhelm her as the kiss turned dark, intense. He took it further, his tongue touching her bottom lip, letting her get her first taste of him. The fever that had flashed between them from the moment their gazes had locked back in City Hall rushed through her, hotter, stronger than anything she’d experienced before, and Lottie pushed her hands into the silk of hair at the nape of his neck and wondered how she’d ever thought she could resist this.

He wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her against him. ‘God, Lottie, I want you.’

There was so much rough heat, so much raw desire, so much hunger in those words that Lottie forgot he was a stranger. She forgot that she didn’t know him. She forgot about the past, about all her mistakes. She lifted her head, dug her fingers into his shirt, pulled until the first button gave way, exposing a triangle of toned, tanned flesh. ‘Then have me.’

Her dress hit the floor before they’d even left the kitchen. His shirt followed suit in the hallway. Hands met skin, exploring feverishly, as she tasted his neck, his chest, then yanked open the waistband of his trousers so she could get her hand inside and grab one tight, firm buttock. The fire inside her soared higher, consuming her, as she wrapped herself around him, clinging to him like she was afraid he might vanish if she let go.

His retaliation was torture. Strong fingers eased under the strap of her shell-pink bra and slowly, slowly moved it away from her shoulder until the soft satin followed it down, exposing one dark, aching nipple. He lowered his head and ran his tongue over that hard peak.

Pleasure overloaded her system, her senses, and she could feel each hot stroke of his tongue spark a fire between her legs. Lottie arched her back and wrapped her hands across those muscular shoulders, his skin warm and smooth under her palms. She knew she didn’t deserve this, but she was only human. No-one could be expected to say no. ‘Do that again.’

He lifted his head, and they stared at each other. He gave her that smile again, the one that made her wobble, and the fire inside her grew hotter. Lottie reached around her back, fumbled open the clasp, and introduced her bra to the floor.

‘And here was me, thinking you were shy.’ His gaze moved lower, stroking over her naked flesh, down to where her nipples poked out, dark and puckered. One hand came up and covered her left breast. ‘I love your body,’ he said huskily, moving closer until she was pressed up against the cold, hard door, with his big hot body plastered against her, keeping her there, letting her know exactly what she was doing to him. ‘I knew I would.’

‘Really?’ she heard herself say, as he rocked his hips against her and she felt the full, hard length of his erection press into her belly, felt the corresponding rush of pure female pride. ‘I’m not exactly in great shape. You can eat a lot of ice cream when you haven’t got a boyfriend.’ And don’t think you’ll have sex again. Ever.

He covered her mouth with his hand. ‘Hush,’ he said. Then he lowered his head and licked her breasts some more. Every touch was hot, potent, shot through with excitement. Every touch only made the next one more precious. She kicked off one shoe then the other, the polished floorboards wonderfully cool beneath her bare feet. Up on her tiptoes to taste his mouth again, the sudden increase in height difference only adding to the thrill. And it
was
a thrill, she thought. They both had something to prove, to themselves and to each other.

Thick, coarse hair teased her fingertips as she traced a curving path round the base of his erection, and he proved one thing—he was hot for her. Lottie had forgotten how much she liked a man’s body, and this man’s body was perfect. Hard and tough and just for her. A rush of emotion crashed into her, as he went perfectly still and let her explore.

Lottie glanced up, saw colour rising high on his cheeks as she slowly stroked him. She hadn’t let herself even think about being with anyone in the past eight months. She’d locked that part of herself away, denied her need for touch, for contact. But the hunger burning openly in his eyes made her feel like she was worth being with. More than worth it.

‘Much as I can tell you’re enjoying your little power trip,’ he said, his voice deep and amused, ‘I want to see you naked on white cotton sheets.’

‘Do you have white cotton sheets?’

‘White cotton sheets,’ he said, punctuating each word with a hot, erotic nip at her jaw, ‘on a bed which deserves to be broken.’

‘I’ve never broken a bed before.’

‘But there’s a first time for everything.’

Those words jolted her back to reality. Yes, there was a first time. There was also a second. Lottie slowly pulled her hand out of his trousers. He stopped her just as her fingertips grazed the head of his penis, and held her hand still. His eyes were dark, the blue a thin, bright ring, his neck dark with colour. ‘You can trust me,’ he said, as if he could read her thoughts. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’ And she believed it, 100 percent. But could she trust herself? She wanted to.
He
made her want to. ‘Yes,’ she said again, with more conviction this time. ‘Yes.’

‘Get used to saying that,’ he murmured, as he banded an arm around her waist, crushing her aching breasts firmly against the hard width of his pecs and they took the stairs. ‘You’re going to be saying it a lot tonight.’

Somehow, they managed to make it upstairs, though Lottie barely noticed herself move, too distracted by his ability to pinpoint all the most sensitive spots on her throat. Sensation swamped her, sending her into a swirling haze of delicious sensitivity where every part of her body felt astonishingly alive.

Josh was her whole focus. She couldn’t see anything else. Not even the sound of a door being kicked open registered, until he took her waist and tossed her back onto a lake-sized mattress and she realised that this was it.

She was in his bedroom, on his bed. There was no turning back. Propping herself up on her elbows, Lottie watched as he toed off his shoes and kicked off his trousers, her heart pounding so hard she felt dizzy.

Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his black jersey boxers and eased himself free. She shouldn’t stare. But, dear lord.

Muscle ridged his stomach, curved his arms. His skin was tanned a light golden brown, and dusted with just the right amount of dark hair, over his chest, down the middle of his belly. Her gaze drifted over his stomach to the point south of his belly button where the tan stopped. His erection was thick, gleaming at the tip, and pointing right at her.

He was so beautiful. And yet he needed to question why someone would say yes to a fumble in a cleaning cupboard. An odd sort of pain lanced through her, and Lottie had to look away, biting down on her lip. She knew why he had to question it. She was no different to all the other women who’d approached him, who’d used him. Except that she wanted to be. Oh god, she wanted to be.

‘You can look,’ he said as he moved over to the table and tugged open the top drawer. He lifted something out, tossed it in her direction. It landed flat on her belly and sat there, gleaming, and she placed a hand over it, feeling the foil press into her fingers, confirming to her that he was just as perfect on the inside as he was everywhere else. ‘Go on. Be a bad girl. Look at the naked man.’

So she did. She looked. And she wanted to wrap herself around every inch of that gorgeous male body and show him that not everyone wanted him for anything other than himself.

He strolled back to the foot of the bed and with one swift tug on her ankles, Lottie found herself flat on her back, staring at the ornate ceiling rose and trying to remember how to breathe. Warm hands met her knees, slid up to her hips, and in a move that had her blinking, her knickers were gone. Heat roared between her thighs.

She moved to sit up, but he stopped her. ‘You said you trusted me,’ he said.

‘I do,’ she said, and it was the truth.

‘So relax.’

‘I am relaxed,’ she lied.

‘Sure about that?’ He dipped his head and flicked the tip of his tongue against all that heat. ‘How about now?’ He made the move again. Her fingers dug into the bed, her back arching uncontrollably. Oh, he was good, so good. Right now, there was nothing she could do. Nothing except grab the sheets and hold on tight.

It started somewhere in the pit of her stomach, building and building as he licked into her, soft, hot, over and over until she didn’t know whether to fight to stay grounded so she could have his mouth on her longer or surrender and let herself fly. Then everything went tight. Her eyes slammed shut and she soared into a soft, cushiony darkness.

And wondered if she should feel awkward about going off like a rocket in three seconds flat.

Cool air replaced the heat of his mouth, and she forced her eyes open. The mattress moved and he closed in on her, long and lean, covering her with all that delicious warmth and strength, and her vision suddenly blurred.

‘What’s wrong, Lottie?’

‘Nothing,’ Lottie swallowed down the lump in her throat. ‘It’s just…’

He touched her cheek so delicately, as if she was made of antique porcelain, not flesh and blood and crazy emotion. ‘No-one’s ever cried on me before.’

‘What do they usually do?’

His mouth moved slowly, sensually over hers. ‘Scream.’

She could feel the thick weight of his erection pressing against her, hard against soft as he settled himself between her thighs, but it wasn’t where she wanted him to be. Her hands met his chest and she pushed him up, then shoved him down onto the bed. She picked up the condom, searched his face for a moment, wanting him to understand.

He folded his hands behind his head. Yes, he got the message, she thought, relief rushing through her, that flash of sadness gone. His gaze never left her face as she rolled it on. Lottie locked her hands onto his thick forearms, as the hot, insistent throb of desire started up inside her all over again. ‘Do you trust me?’ she whispered, leaning forward so that her breasts grazed his chest as she straddled him, the outside of his hard, hair-roughened thighs pressing against the soft inside of her own, putting her in control.

He smiled.

‘Good.’ The she started to move.

He set his hands to her hips and rocked her into a slow, sexy pace, as if they had all the time in the world, as if this wasn’t just crazy afternoon sex with a stranger. His body fascinated her, all that slow, sensual power laid out in front of her, so tightly leashed. She ran a hand over his belly, exploring the hard ridges of muscle, the soft play of hair under her fingers, and she let herself go, let herself feel and explore, her touches alternately gentle and desperate, echoing how she felt.

The sighs of the bed barely registered. There was nothing in her world but him, inside her, under her, filling her senses. ‘Lottie…’ he said, his voice deep, dark, edged with something she didn’t really understand. ‘Lottie, I…’

But the rest of his words were lost, because suddenly she was there, right there, no warning this time before the explosion that had her arching her back, pushing hard against him, wanting all of him as spasm after spasm of pure joy clutched at her.