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Authors: Jaci Burton

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BOOK: Summer Heat
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“This is the Big
Easy, 
cher.
 We don’t get too formal.”

She shrugged and
mumbled something about different worlds.

He’d like to show her
different worlds. He’d like to grab hold of this ice queen and really melt her
frosty little ass. And if he guessed right, Melissa would be more than eager to
have a little warmth. If ever a woman looked like she needed to get laid, it
was this one.

And he bet she wasn’t
even aware of how badly she really needed it. Just the little strike of warmth
he’d sent her proved how unfamiliar she was with the kind of heat a passionate coupling
could provide.

His brother’s warning
not to screw with their new partner flickered in the back of Aidan’s mind.

Flickered, then snuffed
out like rain on a campfire.

Chapter Two

 

Melissa unpacked and
stared into the closet, occasionally glancing at the clock on the nightstand.

Aidan offered to take
her to dinner tonight, although she’d tried to beg off, claiming jet lag. But
he’d sprouted a horrified expression and indicated he’d be shamed severely by
his family if he didn’t at least take her to dinner on her first night in town.

She’d finally agreed
despite the warnings clanging in her head about having anything remotely
personal to do with Aidan Storm. Then again, he hadn’t said anything about this
being a date, or even personal. Only that it was customary for him to take a
business partner out to dinner.

With a frustrated sigh
she closed the closet door, stepped into the opulent bathroom and turned on the
shower. Jets shot out from both walls, the steam rising and clouding up the
glass doors almost immediately.

Exactly what she
needed. A nice shower to whisk away the flight aches and sweat from the humid
air outside. She stripped off her clothes and stepped inside the frosted glass
enclosure, delighting in the soft spray hitting her on both sides of her body.

Lord, she was tired.
She closed her eyes and let the jets pound away. They felt good, almost like
getting a massage. She leaned back into the spray and the stream on the front
side of her angled right between her legs.

Mmm, nice. She needed a
massage there, too, one of a different variety. Then again, these jets were
nice and soft and stroked her clit in just the right spot.

She leaned back further
until she sat on the overhanging ledge at the back of the shower, and adjusted
the spray head on the side wall until it hit her pussy. She shivered, feeling
the sweet tension build deep inside, the water pulsing against the incessant
ache she’d carried around for most of the day.

Ever since she’d laid
eyes on that hot devil, Aidan Storm.

She moved her hands
over her breasts, her nipples pebbling against the palm of her hands. With her
fingertips, she lightly caressed them until they tightened, sending shots of
pleasure straight to her core.

She allowed the surging
water to do its job, imagining a man’s head between her legs, his soft, wet
tongue licking her pleasure spots.

Only it wasn’t just a
faceless man. In her mind, amber eyes locked with hers, holding her in his
gaze, mesmerizing her until she was unable to look away. It was Aidan she
imagined between her legs, doing magical things to her body.

She lifted her hips to
meet his mouth, her body crying out for the release only he could bring.

Even in the shower she
felt his heated touch, nearly unbearable in its sweet torture.

“Please,” she whimpered
aloud, knowing no one could hear her. She begged the Aidan of her imagination
to take her over the edge, to give her the fulfillment she so desperately
craved.

He licked the length of
her, the double sensations of his tongue and the pulsing water making her
quiver with the building storm. When he plunged his tongue inside her she
trembled. As he fit his mouth over her clit, she climaxed with a loud moan of
pleasure, her orgasm raging through her until she feared she might fall to the
floor.

She grabbed for the
ledge to brace herself, still feeling the aftereffects of an orgasm that nearly
blindsided her in its intensity.

She blew out a breath
and reached for the shampoo with shaky hands.

If she didn’t know
better, she could have sworn that scene had been real.

* * * * *

Aidan smiled up at the
ceiling. He lay naked in his bed, fully visualizing Melissa in her shower. His
cock was rock hard and nearly ready for release, but he’d wanted her to come first.
He squeezed his shaft and stroked the length of it, his hips rising off the
bed, his orgasm building.

Such a nice surprise to
slip inside her thoughts. It was rare when it happened. He’d never gotten
inside someone’s mind before outside the family. Not that he hadn’t tried. Too
bad he couldn’t visualize her naked body, but his thoughts had merely become
mixed with hers, so he could only see what she saw, feel what she felt.

His mother would say
they had a psychic connection, that there was something special about Melissa.
But Aidan didn’t buy into all that magic and destiny crap. The magic he used
when it suited him. The destiny and finding your soulmate was something his
overly romantic mother tried to drum into all of them for as long as he could remember.

No such thing as a
soulmate. And Melissa certainly wasn’t special. She was just a woman he had the
hots for.

Funny that they’d both
been masturbating at the same time. When he lay naked on the bed, intending to
relieve the hard-on that had tortured him all day, he found himself psychically
connected to her. He’d felt her pleasure as the shower jets pulsed against her
clit.

So, his cool Bostonian
had a hot side. Not that it surprised him. He’d known it from the second she’d
turned her emerald green eyes on him and tried to hide the fact that she was
full of passion and fire.

Easy for kindred
spirits to spot each other. She had as much of a stormy nature as he did. Their
only difference was that he recognized it in himself. Melissa, on the other
hand, was in deep denial.

Too bad her orgasm had
broken their connection. If it hadn’t he might be catching a glimpse of her
naked body about now as she stood drying herself in front of the mirror. As it
was, he’d have to imagine.

Good thing he had a
vivid imagination. He swirled his thumb over the tip of his cock, rewarded with
a pulsing of silky fluid. He was close. Very close. That shower scene turned
him on and he could come right now if he wanted to. But he wanted to think
about Melissa a little while longer, imagine it was her hand on him, sliding
her long fingers around his shaft and squeezing, then stroking the length of
him until he was so deep into the moment he’d be fucking her hand.

Which is what he did
now, his movements becoming faster and harder as his body begged for release.
Visions raced through his mind. He and Melissa in her shower together, the jets
coming at them from all sides as they touched and tasted every inch of each
other. Then, carrying her to the bed and thrusting inside her pussy until he
came harder than the shower jets.

It was all too much.
With a last, frenzied stroke and groan of pleasure he came quickly, hot fluid
spilling as the spasm of his climax rolled over him.

When at last he
relaxed, he felt satisfied but still wanted more. Much more.

Melissa Cross was a
challenge. Someone who’d made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in him on a
personal level. But deep down inside, he knew damn well she was lying to him
and to herself.

She wanted it so bad
she’d allowed a psychic link between the two of them. And now that one had been
established, he was going to fire Melissa’s libido up so hot she’d be begging
him to fuck her.

At least that’s how he
hoped it would play out. If he guessed wrong, he might be the one doing the
begging.

* * * * *

Melissa stood in front
of the mirror, not certain whether the outfit she wore was acceptable or not.

A brief moment of
indecision and she pulled the dress off, flinging it on to the bed where it
landed on top of the ten other things she’d already tried and discarded.

Good thing she hadn’t
brought her entire wardrobe with her—otherwise she could be at this all night.

Dinner. Casual. New
Orleans. August. What was she supposed to wear?

And, more importantly,
why did it even matter? She’d never obsessed for so long about dressing for a
date.

Not a date. A business
dinner with a business colleague where they would discuss business items. That
was as far from a date as one could get.

Screw it. She was hot,
irritated and had about five minutes to throw something on before Aidan
arrived. Hopefully he’d be late again like he had been for their appointment
this morning.

Grabbing a short cotton
and spandex dress, she threw it on and dashed into the bathroom to run a brush
through her hair, then placed a clip around the ponytail to hold it in place.
Her cheeks were flushed from her one person fashion show, so she certainly
didn’t need to add any blush. Besides, anything she wore would just melt off
her face in this humidity, anyway. And she thought Boston summers were bad.

She looked in the
closet door mirrors and assessed her appearance. The dress was a little short
but at least it was cool. A mint green, and lightweight so she wouldn’t sweat,
with thin straps holding it up. She slipped on her sandals and turned sideways.

What exactly are you
looking for? And why do you even care how you look? Get a grip, Melissa, it’s
just a business dinner!

She was dressed, she
looked reasonably decent, and she was ready. Enough of the primping in front of
the mirror. Good thing, too, because a tap on her door indicated that Aidan was
on time.

Figured. She walked to
the door and opened it, then immediately forgot how to breathe.

Attractive as he’d been
in his suit, the man standing in front of her dressed in dark blue jeans and a
black polo shirt literally took her breath away. Now she could see the body his
suit had only hinted at earlier.

He had to be
six-foot-two or taller. And he was lean, with well-defined muscles, especially
his biceps and shoulders, which stretched the polo shirt tight. Her fingers
curled in response. She quickly thrust them behind her back to avoid the
burning desire to run her palms over his chest and see how hard he really was.

Maybe not just his
chest, either.

“Evenin’, 
cher
,”
he said with a smile.

“Good evening.”

“You look hot.” His
warm eyes raked over her. She swore she grew hotter with every second of his
assessment.

Melissa took a deep
breath and mentally fought to keep from saying, 
so do you
.
“Thanks.”

“Hungry?” he asked.

She grabbed her purse and
walked through the doorway. “Ravenous.”

“Just how I like my
women.”

She turned her head and
met his wink. This was going to be one long evening. She really was going to
have to watch what she said in front of him.

They stepped outside
and the blast of hot air nearly knocked her over.

“Doesn’t it ever cool
off here?” she asked, dampness gathering between her breasts.

“Yeah.” He signaled the
valet to bring his car. “In December.”

The young man in the
red vest rolled to the entry in a sleek, silver Corvette. Aidan held the door
for her while she slipped inside. He paused before closing her door and she was
cognizant of his eyes on her legs as she tucked them inside the low vehicle. At
least she’d worn panties.

Melissa had no more
buckled her seatbelt when the car’s engine roared to life. In an instant, Aidan
tore off down the driveway and flew onto the street. She shot a glare in his
direction. “You didn’t tell me I’d need to increase my life insurance before
getting into a car with you.”

He grinned, his eyes
masked behind dark sunglasses that only made him look sexier. “I like driving
hot cars. And fast.”

“Noticing that,” she
said, her right hand instinctively gripping the side handle on her door. “And I
forgot my helmet, too.”

“You won’t need it.
Trust me, you’re safe with me.”

She believed that one
as much as she believed she’d be a brunette in the morning.

In very short order
they entered the expressway.

“Where are we having
dinner?” She was surprised that Aidan wouldn’t take her to one of the touristy
French Quarter restaurants.

“My parents’ house.”

Her right foot slammed
down on the imaginary brake on her side of the car. “Excuse me? Your parents?”

“Yeah. They wanted to
meet you. So do my brother and sisters.”

Did she get engaged and
wasn’t informed? Had she known they’d be dining with his family she’d have
chosen a much more conservative dress. Actually, she still couldn’t figure out
why she’d worn a dress that clung to her and was way too short for a business
dinner.

“I’m not dressed
appropriately for dinner with your family.”

He quickly glanced over
at her. “You look great, darlin’”

“I’m serious. I feel
awkward about this, Aidan. You should have told me.”

“I didn’t know. Mom
called me right before I left my apartment and said I was to bring you to
dinner. Apparently Logan had told her you’d be spending a month down here
working with me and she thinks you need some home cooking. Besides, they’re all
curious about you.”

Great. An evaluation
along with dinner.

“Couldn’t we do this
another night?” she asked, hoping to stall a family meet-and-greet. She wasn’t
certain she could handle a large family like Aidan Storm’s.

BOOK: Summer Heat
6.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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