Take Me (4 page)

Without another word, we both climbed out of
bed and walked hand-in-hand to the bathroom. It took a moment for
the water to heat to a comfortable temperature. When we stepped
into the shower, he grabbed the tiny bottle of body wash.

Ian proceeded to lather every inch of me. In
contrast to his rough, exciting manner last night, he was
exceedingly gentle. His touch coaxed a response from my body, not
demanding but teasing. Slippery palms slid over my skin, seeking
every plane and crevice.

I half-expected him to press me against the
tile wall and fuck me. Instead, he reached for another bottle. His
fingertips massaged the rich vanilla shampoo through my hair.
Warmth rippled along my nerves that had nothing to do with the
steamy shower and everything to do with the man. He pulled the
showerhead from its mounting, dialed the spray to a more delicate
setting, and carefully rinsed the suds from my tresses.

“Turn around,” he said.

I blinked droplets from my lashes and looked
up at him. Passion flared in those pale eyes. I wasn’t sure what he
had in mind, but my body was already eager to find out, and my
imagination had its own ideas when it came to a pulsating water
massager. I pivoted.

“Put your foot up on the ledge.”

I obeyed, all too aware of how open the
position left my pussy. Solid, masculine muscle pressed against my
back and thighs. His erect cock twitched between my ass cheeks.

He dialed the massager to a third setting.
The gentle pulse of water drifted across my chest. My nipples
puckered under the combination of the spray and his fingers
plucking the hard nubs.

Water sluiced down my stomach and through my
thatch of trimmed hair before mixing with my juices. He eased the
showerhead lower and lower.

I knew what was coming, but when the
throbbing water hit my pussy, I jerked in his hold. A moan escaped
me as my nerves beat in time to the liquid stimulation. His free
hand moved south, his fingers entering my passage as the water
vibrated against my clit.

My palms covered his hand, encouraging him,
letting him know exactly where and how I needed to be touched. My
ass ground against his cock in its own rhythm.

Need built inside me as water and his touch
drove me to the conclusion my body demanded. I shuddered as my
pussy convulsed around his fingers once again.

Ironic that this was the very thing I’d
planned for last night. I just hadn’t expected to have company. I
giggled like a girl discovering sex for the first time. I couldn’t
help it.

“What’s so funny?”

I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You discovered my secret vice.” I pulled him close for a kiss.
That simple act rekindled my passion despite the recent orgasm.

He held me tight as his mouth ravished mine.
I played with the damp hair at the nape of his neck, but his erect
cock twitching against my abdomen beckoned.

I eased one of my hands between our bodies
and wrapped my fingers around him. His soft moan vibrated against
my mouth as I fondled his shaft. I broke our kiss and knelt before
him.

“Lacy,” he murmured. “Wait.” He hooked the
showerhead back in place.

I smiled up at him and winked. A swirl of my
tongue and he was hard in my hands. And mouth. I sucked and licked
until his sac tightened.

He blinked water out of his eyes and stared
at me while I gently stroked his testicles. Time stretched in that
intense look.

When wrinkled skin relaxed, I wrapped my lips
and hands around his shaft. He palmed the back of my neck and
thrust. I tilted my head and relaxed my throat, letting him fuck my
mouth until he came with a roar. Hot, salty come filled my throat,
and I swallowed every single drop of him.

* * *

We scrambled to dry ourselves and get
dressed. I was in the bathroom dealing with make-up when I heard
him mutter, “Dammit.”

“What’s wrong?” I swiped each cheek with my
blush brush. When he didn’t answer, I poked my head out of the
bathroom. “Forget something at the airport?”

“No. It’s—” He stared at the pile of foil
packets on the nightstand. “We forgot to use protection one time
last night.”

I thought for a second. The delicious way Ian
had woken me. He was right. “I’ve got my medical tests after my
ex—” I glared at the ugly still life on the opposite wall. Bringing
up that bastard was the last thing I wanted to do this morning.

“That wasn’t exactly what concerns me. And
you don’t have to worry about contracting anything from me.” Ian
chuckled ruefully. “Not unless I caught something from my own
hand.” His expression grew serious. “It’s the other problem.”

I gave him a wry grin. “I think I’m a little
too…mature for the other problem.”

“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve gone
through menopause?”

“I…” A tiny sliver of worry pierced my bliss.
“No.”

“Then it’s a possibility.” He was terribly
earnest about the whole thing.

I wanted to deny his concern. The very idea
of me pregnant at forty-three was laughable, except neither of us
were amused. I counted days before I shook my head. “Even Vegas
would give me pretty long odds in that department.” I tried to
smile, but Ian looked positively grim.

“Promise me you’ll contact me if…” He
couldn’t say the word, and I tried very, very hard not to think
it.

This was only supposed to be a fling.

Something must have changed in my face
because he cupped my cheeks. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“Let’s not put the proverbial cart before the
horse.”

He kissed my forehead. The gesture was so
sweet when I knew he could be so dominating, The combination made
me want to drag him back to bed. “C’mon. We’ve got a plane to
catch.”

We quickly gathered the last of our
belongings. After I slung my carry-on over my shoulder, he ran a
finger over the engraved plate with my initials. “‘M.’ ‘L.’ ‘S.’
Are you that big of a soccer fan?”

“Har, har. I haven’t heard that one before.”
I stepped into the hotel hallway, and he pulled the door shut
behind us.

“The ‘L’ stands for ‘Lacy.’” He just wasn’t
going to let this go, was he? “So what’s the ‘M’ stand for?
Mildred? Matilda?”

“I’m not discussing it.” I headed down the
corridor toward the bank of elevators.

“C’mon. Give me a hint.” With his longer
stride, he caught up with me in three steps.

“No.” After last night and this morning, his
playfulness threw me off my game. Was he trying to prove something
after all his scare tactics about possibly knocking me up? I jammed
the “Down” button with my thumb.

“Then throw me a bone. What about the
‘S’?”

“Fine, I’ll tell you mine when you tell me
yours.” My words popped out as the elevator doors parted. Five sets
of eyes stared at us with a mixture of shock and annoyance. The
sixth set belonged to an elderly woman who didn’t bother to hide
her grin.

It wasn’t her amusement or the other
passengers’ reactions that made my face heat like a lobster boil.
It was the realization I’d screwed Ian six ways to Saturday and
hadn’t known his last name

* * *

I was shocked, and pleased, to discover our
concierge from last night had booked us adjoining seats in first
class. I hadn’t even glanced at the boarding pass last night in my
eagerness to get to the hotel.

Part of me wished I could get out of my
interview in order to spend more time with Ian, but I’d worked too
hard to get to this point in my career. I couldn’t fritter the
opportunity away because my hormones had other ideas.

It didn’t help that Ian idly played with the
delicate skin at my wrist while we waited for the rest of the
passengers to take their seats. A sharp buzz came from his jacket
pocket, and he pulled out his phone. He frowned and tapped a reply
before he turned off the device and replaced it.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“A client wants to meet this morning at
eleven.” He flashed a bright grin. “I’d rather have breakfast with
you first.”

“I can’t. I have my own business meeting this
morning. Remember?” I gave him a rueful smile.

“Then dinner tonight.”

“Persistent, aren’t we?”

He leaned closer so only I would hear his
words. “When I see what I want, I go after it.”

I shivered at his tone, his look. Already, my
pussy dampened from that alone. Okay, maybe the memory of
everything he did to me last night helped.

Maybe I was hoping for more in the taxi. I
hadn’t bothered putting on panties. Instead, I wore only a garter
and stockings. Maybe I wanted Ian to introduce me to the Mile High
Club.

So many temptations cocooned my thoughts. It
was Friday. Not to mention, I had more than enough time accumulated
to take an extra personal day if necessary, but something said if I
stayed with Ian, I would never leave his bed.

This was just supposed to be a fling.

Except it wasn’t a fling. It had turned into
an addiction. My tongue ran over my upper lip. “I don’t know how
late I’ll be, and my flight leaves at seven tonight.” The plane
jolted and the engines revved as we pulled back from the gate.

“Reschedule your flight.” He cupped my cheek
and ran his thumb over the spot I’d licked, daring me to suck on it
as I had last night.

Despite my good girl misgivings, my inner
slut did just that. His pale eyes darkened as he watched me worship
his thumb with my mouth.

Exactly the same way I’d worshipped his cock
in the shower.

His breathing had grown ragged by the time I
released him. “I’ll text you when I’m done. That’s all I can
promise.”

“Where are you going for your meeting? I can
wait for you there.” He waggled his eyebrows.

I knew he was teasing, but his behavior hit
the button that reminded me too much of the ex. All those false
accusations of me cheating to cover up his own infidelities. I drew
back. “You’re pushing too hard, Ian.”

He looked away and blew out a harsh breath.
If he was angry, it was better to know now and end this as the
one-night stand it was supposed to be.

Finally, he said, “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a cream-colored
business card. “I would appreciate it if you would text me if you
have the time this evening.”

I took the card and read the black embossed
writing.
Hollister & McKinney, Attorneys at Law, Ian
Hollister.
Underneath his name, the office address and phone
number were listed as well as his cell phone number and e-mail
address.

I didn’t know which surprised me more—that
Ian was a lawyer or that he’d finally revealed his last name. The
irony that I’d been worried about scaring him by telling him about
my interview wasn’t lost on me. I’d tell him tonight.

After he fucked my brains out.

Right then, I knew I’d made my decision to
postpone my flight. I met his expectant gaze. “What happens if I
don’t contact you until midnight?”

He grinned. “I’ve always wanted to be the
recipient of a booty call.”

We both laughed, the tension disappeared, and
the rest of the short flight to Tampa was exceedingly pleasant.

* * *

As we waited at the taxi stand, he murmured,
“I’d ask to share a cab, but I presume that would be pushing
again.”

“It would be.” I laid a hand on his jacket
sleeve. “I’ll text you. I don’t break my promises.”

He cupped the back of my head and laid a
soul-searing kiss on me. Our tongues tangled, fought, caressed,
until the airport’s traffic director cleared his throat, loud
enough it cut through the exceptionally noisy loading area.

My lipstick was smeared over Ian’s mouth.

“Tonight,” I guaranteed.

“Tonight,” he repeated.

“The ‘S’ stands for Sullivan,” I said before
I climbed into the taxi and gave the driver the address for
Radcliffe Software. As the cab pulled away from the curb, I turned
and watched Ian recede in the distance. A perplexed expression
tilted his full lips. Giving him my last name shouldn’t have been
that much of a surprise.

Did I have another reason to move to Tampa? I
pulled out my compact to repair my make-up, but the question
wouldn’t leave my mind. I knew better than to make life decisions
based on the hormone high of initial attraction. However, nights
with Ian would definitely sweeten the pot.

So would mornings and afternoons.

I pushed my thoughts of him into the
compartment with the rest of my personal life as I’d always done,
but he refused to stay there. Memories of him, of last night and
this morning, teased me.

Common sense shoved against the erotic images
of undressing for him. Of him finger-fucking me while the oblivious
cab driver guided his vehicle through the thunderstorm. Of him
forcibly taking me from behind and how much it excited me.

It’s new and kinky and a one-night stand.
That’s all it is.

Except he wanted to see me again.

No, he wanted to fuck me again.

Exasperated with my mental gymnastics, I
tossed my compact and lipstick back into my purse. I pulled out my
phone and tried to focus on my notes about Radcliffe Software.

Twenty minutes later, my libido was
reasonably under control when I slid out of the backseat of the
taxi and tipped the driver.

After the receptionist announced my arrival,
the person who strode into the lobby was everything I’d expected.
Emmett Radcliffe move with the grace of a man half his age. He
prided himself on his ‘60’s style, from the long gray hair and
equally long beard to the brilliant yellow Hawaiian print shirt,
cargo shorts and flip-flops.

I followed him through the maze of tables,
chairs and a plethora people using various electronic devices. The
personnel gave off an odd sense of intensity and nonchalance at the
same time. Maybe this would be the type of place where I could fit
in.